#i feel really anxious at certain points in the day and why exactly i feel like that.

[beykhabarr]

Just saw a reel about 10 pm anxiety and I have never felt so validated before

[rafey-baby]

sweet treat 5

Shy!reader really wants to tell construction worker!rafe how she feels but what if he doesn’t feel the same?  

cw: the L-word, mostly fluff, reader being an overthinker and getting a little jealous, pda

wc: 2.3k 

hi! this is the last part of sweet treat (might write some extras but I make no promises) and just wanted to say how much I appreciate everyone who reads my stuff. the first part was my first proper piece of writing I posted on this account and I was overjoyed by the warm welcome and all the kind comments, asks & reblogs (nothing goes unnoticed by me!) so thank you so so much for being so lovely <33  

hope you enjoy xx 

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

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

It’s been exactly two weeks since she came to terms with the fact that she’s in love with him. She hasn’t been able to sleep all that well and has tried her very best to avoid Rafe, albeit fruitlessly since he insists on driving her home from work every day and on top of that, he often invites himself over to her house or asks for her to stay the night at his; not accepting her excuses about being tired and having to wake up early.  

”Why don’t we just…be tired and wake up early together, then?” His grin is playful when he argues with her reasoning. And how is she meant to refuse that? 

And if all that wasn’t already suffocating her, of course he’s now helping with the renovation of the cafe since her boss wanted to expand the business; make the small coffee shop into a bigger one in hopes of more space for new tables and seats because the amount of clients they got was beginning to be too much for everyone to comfortably enjoy their stay.

Therefore, she now has to practically work in the same building as him every single day because the renovation work isn’t disturbing the current cafe from running nor decreasing the number of customers with a sweet tooth or a craving for their usual morning coffee from strutting in.  

This wouldn’t be a problem, if Rafe wasn’t walking around all sweaty and dusty, biceps bulging whenever he’d lift wooden planks over his shoulder or carry around different equipment; looking as attractive as ever.

And with these newfound lovey-dovey feelings trying to break through the surface, she doesn’t know how she’s supposed to stop herself from ogling him or keep her rapid heartbeats to herself whenever he wanders over to chat with her on his breaks.  

She tries to act as normal as she can, but she can tell that he’s picking up on her excessive rambling and stuttering, flushed cheeks and anxious fingers fixing her hair every two seconds whenever he’s talking to her.

She’s certain he can see right through her, knows that she’s hiding something. She can practically see how he wants to bring it up more often than not but seemingly hasn’t found the right way to approach the subject yet and she can sense that she’s running out of time; can’t tolerate lying to him for much longer.  

She’s been thinking this whole thing through over and over, to the point of her head hurting as she bakes Rafe’s favorite lemon raspberry cookies as a distraction and because he’s been working so hard and she wants to surprise him; see the soft smile that makes the whole world glitter whenever he graces her with it.

She wants to tell him, wants him to know how deeply she feels for him, how much she appreciates him but every time she tries to open her mouth, the words seem to evaporate before they’ve even begun to sprout on her nervous tongue.  

What if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if this is all just a casual thing for him and she’s making it into something more than it is? These bleak thoughts turn her mood sour; a pout forming on her lips as she concentrates on topping the flamingo pink icing covering their most popular vanilla cupcakes with fresh blueberries.  

As she’s taking out Rafe’s cookies out the oven, she comes to the conclusion that she has two options; she either tells him she’s in love with him or she doesn’t. If she tells him, there’s a very high possibility of him looking at her with a crease between his brows and words about not wanting for this to be anything serious hitting her against the face.

And if she doesn’t tell him, then…well she doesn’t really have anything to lose, does she? Except maybe the what ifs haunting her for the rest of eternity.  

She tries to get rid of these tormenting thoughts with a shake of her head as she sets the cookies off to cool down and begins to place the finished cupcakes onto the display counter, trying her hardest to forget about it all.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Later that day when Rafe is contently munching on the cookies she plated for him and happily distracting her from work, someone approaches the counter; a girl with glossy lips and shiny hair.  

”Hi, could I get a mango matcha latte, please?” Her eyes are as green as grass as she places her order. 

”Of course, would you like it with ice or no ice?”  

”With ice, please,” she answers in a friendly manner.  

”Coming right up,” she gives the girl a polite smile when her payment goes through.  

”You’re working on the renovation?” The girl’s attention then turns towards Rafe, making Y/N’s gaze flicker over to them as she puts blended mango into the bottom of a tall glass. 

”Yeah, the cafe’s gon’ be twice as big as it’s now,” his gravelly voice drawls, putting the half-eaten baked good down.  

”That’s so cool, I’ve always wondered how construction workers are so strong. Do you go to the gym a lot?” A saccharine voice reaches Y/N’s ears, making her brows furrow as she’s measuring the right amount of matcha powder and trying to appear nonchalant.  

”Uh, yeah, yeah. Also think my workdays sometimes count as workouts,” he scratches the back of his head as she lets out a giggle. It wasn’t that funny, Y/N thinks with a roll of her eyes.  

”Hey, I was actually wondering if maybe you’d wanna hang out sometime? Could give you my number?”  

Something muddy swirls in her stomach at the girl’s straightforward question. She doesn’t appreciate the fact that she’s blatantly hitting on Rafe right in front of her. Even if she’s well aware that they’re not together and the girl probably assumed they were just friends, which they are.

However, she can’t prevent herself from turning grumpy from the mere notion of him being interested in someone else. After all, the girl is stunning and she wouldn’t really blame him if he wanted to at least consider her offer.    ”Nah, I’m actually not available right now,” he offers an apologetic smile when the girl’s shoulders slump.  

”No? That’s a shame. Well, let me know when that changes?” She gives him a flirty smile that makes Y/N quietly scoff as she pours the milk into the mix. 

”It’s not changing anytime soon,” she mutters under her breath, making both of them turn their heads towards her.  

”Sorry?” The girl asks, muted jade settling on her suddenly tense form. Fuck, did she really say that out loud? 

”Oh, um— just that…here’s your drink,” she peeps out, feeling Rafe’s eyes burning into the side of her face as she sticks a paper straw into the beverage; the ice cubes clinking together when she hands it out to her.  

”Right, thanks,” she says looking over to Rafe once more, seemingly expecting him to give her an answer of his own. 

”Uh…yeah, what she said. Not changing anytime soon,” his grin is wide, making the girl’s cheeks flush as she hurriedly leaves. 

And when it’s just the two of them again, she flits her eyes down, busying herself with a wooden container of tea bags she’s trying to organize, not wanting to face him. 

”What was, uh…what was that about?” His tone is teasing, an annoying smirk playing along his features. 

”Nothing,” she quickly dismisses, avoiding his gaze. 

”Nothing? You’re telling me you weren’t just really fucking jealous two seconds ago?” 

”N—no,” she can’t even convince herself with the pitiful denial. 

”Don’t worry, I’m all yours, alright?” He chuckles as he stuffs the rest of the cookie down his maw.

”How did you know I was craving these, by the way?” He asks around the mouthful as she tries to brush aside the sudden tingle in her ribcage and the blush dusting over her cheeks.  

- - - - - - - - - - - - - 

A few days later when her shift is coming to an end, her other coworker already beginning to take orders and telling her she’s free to go, she drags Rafe behind the counter and practically forces him to taste test a new recipe she’s tried out; a walnut carrot cake with lime buttercream.

”Wow, this is…amazing. The lime gives this fresh sourness to the frosting, it’s so good,” his voice is muffled by his chewing and her heart warms in response to his detailed commentary, never one to shy away from showering her in compliments. 

”You think so? I actually added the lime just cause I know how much you like citrus fruits so, I’m really glad you like it,” she beams up at him. 

”Yeah? Made this just for me, huh? Can I ask why I’m getting this special treatment all of a sudden?” His tone is playful, tongue licking over his bottom lip to clean up the bit of icing lingering there.  

”Well, cause I love you and—“ she blurts out and then her entire body tenses; mouth hanging open in chock and wide eyes slowly moving to look at him, trying to verify whether he heard it or not. Of course he did. She wasn’t exactly quiet now, was she?  

“You…you love me?” His brows raise in surprise. 

“Uh…I— I didn’t mean to…I mean, you probably don’t feel the same so doesn’t really matter. Just— um...just forget I said that. I don’t know why I—”  

“What are you talking about? You think I spend most of my time with you cause I…what? Dislike you? You can be so silly sometimes, you know?” He scoffs, setting the golden fork down on the porcelain plate. 

She stays silent.

“What I’m saying is that I’m obsessed with you. I mean, you’re even in my fucking dreams, right? But listen, love has always been a little…tricky for me to grasp onto cause my relationship with my family has always been…complicated? But if me wanting to spend every second of my day with you means I love you too then, shit, maybe I do. But I need some time before I can really say that shit, you get that?” His words are honest and raw and she thinks her rattling heart is going to beat out of her chest.

“Oh. I— um…yeah, of course. Take all the time you need,” she finally manages out.

“Hey, c’mere,” he says before he’s practically dragging her dumbfounded form into his embrace; beefy arms pushing her flush against his chest with a steadying grip on her waist.  

“I mean, we’re basically already dating at this point, no? Wasn’t sure how to make it official without freaking you out but since you love me, I think you’re all good, yeah?”

She croons something incoherent in response.

“So, wanna be my little girlfriend or what?” He asks into her hair. 

“I— of course I do,” she mumbles against his shirt.  

“Yeah?”  

“Mhm,” She hums before he tucks an index finger under her chin and raises her face to look up at him; thumb toying with her bottom lip before he’s leaning down and smearing a sloppy kiss against her mouth.  

“Shit, you’re so cute. Just wanna swallow you whole sometimes,” he murmurs with a soft smile tugging at his lips and blue hydrangeas twinkling with something syrupy in them.  

“I love you,” she mumbles, almost inaudible; words still too tender to consciously say out loud.  

“Say it again,” he practically demands. 

“Um…I love you,” her voice is nearly a whisper. 

“What was that? Think you can say it a little louder?” He teases.  

“Rafe, stop…you’re embarrassing me,” she whines, cheeks coloring over with a strawberry hue.  

“No, I’m not. Just wanna hear you say it,” his smirk is all big and smug and it makes her huff.

“ILOVEYOU, okay?” The words mesh together like fluffy clouds in the sky and her volume is louder than he’s probably ever heard it, a couple of curious heads turn to look at them, the lively chatter around them quieting down some.  

“Yeah? You guys heard that? She loves me!” He’s nearly shouting, looking around with a stupid grin on his face, making her flush and hide behind her hands as a few customers cheerfully titter in entertainment. 

”Congrats, dude!” Someone even yells.  

“Oh my god, Rafe. Why would you do that?” Her mortified eyes widen as she crouches down; trying to find shelter from behind the pale yellow counter. ”I’m never leaving my house again,” she complains with a glare.  

He doesn’t seem to be all that bothered by the whole thing, simply chuckling with dimples denting his cheeks; the light-hearted sound making her stomach flutter despite the humiliation crawling up her spine and making her want to vanish into the cracks on the floorboards.  

“Of course you are. I’m your boyfriend now which means I’m taking you out on a date tomorrow, yeah?” He lifts her up with a grip on her waist, pulling her flush against him as his devious fingertips slip underneath the hem of her shirt, smoothing over her bare stomach and making her let out a squeak.

Then he’s grasping her jaw in one hand and pressing his mouth on hers once again; her protests withering away like a dead rose when he slips his tongue past her lips, dragging out an involuntary whimper from her.  

She pulls away, hiding her face in his chest when she can feel multiple pairs of eyes staring at them. 

”Rafe, can we just go already?” She pleads with her voice small before he’s guiding her out of the coffee shop with a big palm resting on her back, calming her down some.  

And despite the little scene he just caused, she thinks she might just be the happiest girl on the island as he helps her climb into his truck with a honeyed kiss warming the apple of her cheek.

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

Hi, please, please, please! I need a premise where Simon finds a pregnancy test in the house he shares with his wife believing it is hers, upset and anxious he asks her for explanations, without giving her the time to give an answer. The test was his girl's sister's ❤️ :')

A Good Father

Ghost x Wife!Reader

Ghost is anxious about being a father.

SFW, Extreme Fluff, Husband!Ghost, Wife!Reader, Comfort, Pregnancy Scares, Domestic, Softness, Vulnerability, Awkward Conversations, Innocent Misunderstandings, I'm reluctant to say there's humor, Scarcely Proofread, Drabble

Personally, I do feel like Ghost would be flustered if he found out his wife was pregnant with his first child. HOWEVER, I don't think he would act rude or distant or cold. Not on purpose. This is how I interpret that I guess. And thank you anon, this was an interesting topic. If you have anymore please don't be shy! ^^

Masterlist

It'd been an accident when he found it, and the kind of accident that could put a man six feet under if you weren't careful.

It was a sunny and rare fall day in which Simon had been let off work before you for once; a welcome change to his usual routine, as he'd been looking forward to surprising you.

He started with the kitchen, knowing it had been one of your least favorite places to clean. He washed and put away the dishes before wiping down the counters, making quick work with sweeping before mopping. In the blink of an eye he'd already straightened up the living room, which made the dining room light work in comparison. All that had remained was the bathroom, your second least favorite room to clean.

When he arrived home and saw you were gone, he'd thought to himself -- What would be a better surprise than coming home to your man and a clean home? It hadn't been as often as he liked where he was given such an opportunity, so he jumped at the chance without question the second the idea popped into his mind.

There hadn't been much to contend with, a few misplaced clothes and some used towels. He'd just begun picking things up when he'd suddenly heard something small clatter against the bathroom tiles. Finally he saw the tiny, long piece of white plastic sitting tucked between the toilet and the counter -- A pregnancy test.

At first glance Simon froze, unsure as to what exactly he was even looking at. It hadn't been every day he was faced with these sorts of things; you'd only recently broken the record for being the longest relationship he's been in. So when he saw it, his mind hadn't wanted to jump to conclusions. Not at first...

...But when he picked it up off the floor and felt the thing in his hands, it was as the whole world had stopped. His brown eyes skimmed over that red plus sign at the corner of the test and reality felt anew. A positive result.

A number of emotions ran through Simon, though none could be more certain than the sudden shakiness to his grip and the tightening of his jaw. A pang of nausea coarsed through him, soon followed by a sudden guilt for that. He must have stood in that bathroom for a solid three minutes before his thoughts had somewhat gathered...

Pregnant. You were pregnant, and you didn't tell him. Why? Had you not planned on keeping it, or were you simply just waiting to break the news to him?

Robotically, naturally, Simon finds himself continuing with what he was doing before, throwing the test away and continuing with cleaning. He hadn't known what else to do really; anything else and he may just storm out and call you about it.

But no, he wouldn't do that. He couldn't. His emotions are just out of sorts now and he's confused. There wouldn't be a point in channeling that confusion into anger and taking it out on you, especially since you're the one with the answers.

The final thing to clean had been the mirror. As Simon began to wipe the glass down, he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection. There he sees the battered husk he barely recognized at times. A father.

It felt unreal. Both too good to be true and a waking nightmare. He'd always dreamed of being a father some day, perhaps, in a different life which allowed him to be a part of his child's world in the proper way that he had desired. Some parts had been out of spite of his own father, having had some subliminal need to prove to a ghost what a real parent looks like. Other parts of him genuinely longed for a family of his own, and something he could be a part of from the start and see through to the end. To be a father would make him the happiest man alive.

Yet he wasn't ready, not now. Not in ways in which he felt he could really be of any use to you and your child. He feared every bit that could replicate his own childhood into his life today. There had still been so much of himself he'd felt needed to be set right before bringing someone into this world under him. He'd just wanted this moment to be perfect...

Simon didn't bring it up when you got home. Seeing the excitement on your face to see him nearly made him forget about the whole ordeal entirely. But it lingered on his mind like a heavy weight, and you could see it.

You asked him if he was OK, and despite himself he'd told you he was fine, only tired. He'd hoped that perhaps you might bring it up yourself, though you don't, merely continuing about the evening as usual.

Dinner was awkward, mainly do to Simon's stoic behavior, even moreso than usual. He stayed up to watch a movie with you, though he hadn't said much at all during it, forgoing his usual jokes and one-liners.

It hadn't been until you'd crawled into bed next to him that he finally spoke, though it hadn't been what you expected to hear.

"Do you think I'd make a good father?"

The question catches you off guard and you laugh and little, rotating yourself in his arms and resting your chin on his chest to look at him. From there you've felt his fluttering heartbeat dancing anxiously against your palms.

"Of course I do, Si'," you say. "Why?"

He's quiet again. Even in the dark you know those brown eyes are sifting through the room, looking anywhere but where you are. His hands over you shuffle slightly, and he sighs. "I have my doubts sometimes."

"I don't know why," you smile. "You're one of the best men I've ever met. I've always thought you'd make good "dad" material."

Simon can't help but smile. "Is that right?"

"I mean you've already got the dad jokes down," you tease. "What more do you need?"

You both laugh lightly to each other, and Simon feels a warmth grow in him that only you seem able to bring forth. Even when you know something is on his mind, you go out of your way to make him smile first. It's these reasons he loved you.

"Is this your way of saying you're interested in... trying?"

Unsure of what ruse you were playing now, and no longer being able to hold himself back any longer, Simon sits up, signaling to you that this was about to become something much deeper than anticipated.

"No," he says rather coldly. Too blunt for what he'd intended.

"Oh," you say, unable to hide the disappointment in you tone. You then look up to him, confused. "Is something the matter? You've been acting odd since I got home."

"I'm just wondering when you're going to break the news to me."

"The news?"

"Your first step into motherhood."

You pause. "My... what? What are you on about?"

"I found the pregnancy test."

You pause again, audibly making a confused "oop" noise as you tried to figure out what it was your husband was talking about. "Pregnancy test?"

The confusion in your tone now only makes Simon pause. "Yes," he says. "A pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test."

You're sitting there racking through your brain now, trying to recall when it was you took this said test. Having brought it up, all the thoughts Simon's had little time to sort through can't help but spill from him now.

"I'm not mad," he leads with. "I'm just... I wasn't...

"Oh!" You interject suddenly, a light bulb going off over your head. "That was my sister's!"

"...Wha'?"

"My sister came over this morning. She didn't want our mom to find it so I said she could do it here," you explain, before chuckling. "Though I'm gonna have to yell at her later since can't clean up after herself... Didn't mean to spook you though, love."

Simon sits there silent and frozen, still processing the last minute. "...So you're not pregnant then?"

"No," you laugh. "Not that I know of anyway."

No. He won't be a father after all. If he'd felt his emotions swirling earlier, they've torn into a twister now. He won't be a father.

It disappointed him, despite his reluctance earlier. Had he been looking forward to it more as the day went on? This was for the best, nonetheless. Now at least he could breathe again.

"Fuckin' hell," Simon lets out a heavy sigh, a boulder of stress dropping from his shoulders like a landslide. "Don't scare me like that, love. Y'nearly did me in with that."

You smirk, climbing back onto Simon until your legs were straddling him against the bed. You lean forward, letting your nose brush his and his breath detail his presence to you in the dark. Before you've kissed him, you linger there for a spell, simply marinating in the moment.

"I still think you'd make a wonderful father, Si'."

You feel him sigh, his body sinking comfortably beneath you, as you've felt his callous palms cup your cheeks gently.

"You'd make a beautiful mother."

"I'm still up for trying," you say. "If you think we're ready, I mean..."

Simon pulls you in, until your lips have found his, locking in its familiar ways. Between the soft pecks he'd left, he spoke to you softly, holding you close.

"We're not getting any younger."

(╹◡◠)

[megumiatethetable]

゜ ・ 。. 。・゜゜ ・ 。. 。・゜゜ ・ 。. 。・゜゜ ・ 。.

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 ಇ | (@𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞)

note: hiiiii this is my first drabble about choso here on tumblr. i apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes, try not to mind them too much. enjoy!

tags: self conscious!choso x reader, gn reader, confession, soft!choso, gentle reader, friends to lovers.

word count: 1.2k

゜ ・ 。. 。・゜゜ ・ 。. 。・゜゜ ・ 。. 。・゜゜ ・ 。.

The two of you are sitting at your favorite hanging spot. It's a hill covered in grass over your favorite park, presenting the lake and trees before you. You had begun coming here initially to teach Choso a way to hang out with other people, as he still was clueless on how to do so; but ended up coming almost every other day with him.

After getting to know Choso for a few months, you found out the great company he could be. Despite perceiving him as lonely and cold at first, you grew to understand the type of person he really was.

You had tries countless attempts to befriend Choso, and he yielded up until to a certain point. However, what you wanted with Choso was far more than just a friendship. It was impossible not to fall in love with such a careful, adorable, and sweet person.

"I just don't understand..." The half-curse says. He's looking out the horizon. You recognize this as Choso being too anxious to make eye contact with you. He usually did this when you first met.

"What is it?" You ask him.

He seems to think carefully before speaking again. "Why...why are you here with me?"

You tilt your head in slight confusion. You´ve joked about your weird friendship a few times before, it was no mystery that you liked sharing your time with Choso. "Hmm? What do you mean, Cho? We always come here after dinner."

"No, that's not what I meant." Choso replies. "I mean to ask...why are you here with me out of everyone else? Why am I more deserving of your time than the rest of them?" His voice trailed off into a whisper by the end of the sentence. "I'm nothing more than a freak."

You sat back with your back a little straighter this time, turning around to face him. You had totally missed the sad undertone of his voice. "Choso..." you reach out to touch his arm, but he flinches away.

"I haven't understood up until now why you´ve tried so hard to get closer to me." He explains, he stares at the moving waves of the lake. "This is not to be taken as ungratitude for you, no, that´s not what I feel at all. But...why? Why do you wanna hang out with me like this? Why do you smile as if you enjoy our conversations? Why do you bring joy into my life when you don't have to? What exactly is the reason behind all of this?"

Taken aback by the raw pain in his voice, you move to sit in front of him, so Choso has no choice but to look at you this time. "Cho, please look at me." You tell him, gently laying your hands on his arms.

He looks up, and you can immediately sense the fear in his eyes. Fear of rejection. And for the first time, you realize how hard it must have been for him to live around both human and curse, yet be accepted entirely by none.

"When I met you, I couldn't help but be in awe of you. You were both a human, and a curse, yet you had the biggest heart out of anyone I've ever met before." You begin, swallowing back your own nerves. This catches his eye and he looks confused. Since when where you this shy in front of him? "It's true, you are different from others, and that's what drew me to you. The way you talk about your brothers, the way you're protective over those you care about, how careful you are whith your words..."

Your eyes are drawn to his own, small hazel-colored eyes. "You're incredible, Cho. I want to be closer to you, because you're interesting to me, and I want to get to know you better and teach you about the world."

The brunette still hasn't moved away from your touch, and you realize how solid his arms feel under your palms. You try to dissipate the blush that suddenly starts spreading over your cheeks by looking back at the horizon. It's the sunset over the lake, what you pretend you are watching, but you can feel Choso's eyes on you.

"You shouldn´t think that way about me." He says quietly.

"Well, I do."

For a moment he looks back at the lake, the trees, the park. Anything else but you, because it hurts him the most, the sight of you, hurts him the most. To think about you that way and how things could never work out.

A bitter taste floods Choso's mouth before he speaks. "We can't. I'm just a curse who's slightly more human, I don't...I don't deserve you. Don't deserve your care." He shakes his head, and looks away again. He can't tolerate the idea of being worth any ounce of love in this world, beside his brothers'. "The amount of people I've hurt, they make me just a curse. I'm no better than any of them. So why—?"

You reach out again, catching his hand, grounding it before he begins inflicting himself any pain. You've seen Choso do it before, scratching at his own neck, out of anxiety and fear. "You defended your brothers out of love, something a curse doesn't feel."

"No. That's different." He still doesn't seem to be listening, he doesn't want to believe it. "The way you trust me, how you care about me. If you keep doing this, I'll..." he stops for a moment. Choso's too scared to say the next part. "We can't, we shouldn't."

This time, the half-curse doesn't stop your hand from reaching out to his face. How you trace his cheek, and jawline, as he swallows. "I'm not deserving of your love." He whispers, but his eyes can't leave yours.

And despite all of his hurtful words towards you, he hasn't moved an inch away from you. If anything, his eyes are begging you not to let go of him. Choso can only slightly shake his head as you lean in to his lips. "I'm sorry." You whisper, all before kissing him.

The moment your lips land on his, he pulls you against him, his body melting against you. Choso's arms gently holding you, his hand moving up to touch your own. You feel his fingertips shaking, as they hold your hand.

"I love you," You confess against his lips, between kisses. “I love you, Cho."

It had been impossible not to fall for him during this time you'd been getting to know him. How you'd both found trust with each other, and how protective he’d grown over you. You wanted him to be yours only.

Choso pulls away to cup your face and look into your eyes. “I love you so much more than you can imagine.” He whispers, so quietly you can barely hear him. “And now that I have you like this, I don’t wanna ever let you go.”

You throw your head back and laugh as Choso pulls you into a warm embrace. You can feel him flustering against you. “I’m serious.” He says into the crook of your neck. "You're stuck with me now."

"I wouldn't wanna be anywhere else," You tell him, smiling and kissing along his cheek and curse mark, enjoying Choso blushing under your lips. "My Choso."

゜ ・ 。. 。・゜゜ ・ 。. 。・゜゜ ・ 。. 。・゜゜ ・ 。.

˗ˏˋ 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐸𝑛𝑑 ˎˊ˗

@𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 (𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒): 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞.

[dimepdf]

𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆.+ 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀 𝐊𝐎𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐄

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. the first thing kenma worries about when revealing the feelings that you have for him is his own self-worth.

pairing. streamer!kenma kozume x reader

word count. 1.9k

genre and warnings. hurt/comfort, angsty, tooth rotting fluff, friends to lover, streamer!reader, discord calls, insecurity, anxiety, miscommunication, nicknames, mutual pining, crying confessions NOTE BETA'D | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

Kenma was a sometimes dense type of guy. He wasn't necessarily dumb, just had a difficult time wrapping his head around certain situations. 

His overthinking was the main reason why he felt so left out, even around his own friends. 

It was just the way that his brain was wired, into his confusion and clutter of thoughts.

One of those thoughts was the obvious crush you had on him. What he was mostly confused about was how he just didn't really understand why you thought of him in such a way.

Kenma wouldn't be able to tell exactly when you started showing interest in him, just the moment that it all just started making sense to him. You and him finished live streaming to his audience.

The post-stream tradition was always for you two to stay and chat for hours in the discord call for hours into the night until you would officially tap out to fall asleep against your desk. Kenma didn't really mind your long rants or the random conversations that would last until the next day.

If anything, he had just grown to love your voice and how talking to you just came naturally, to the point where he would multitask anything with you in the background, going about his business usually.

But tonight was a bit different for him. "Hey, "hey you okay Ken?" Your question came through his headset as Kenma sat slouched against his gamer chair, his legs spread out as his head lulled.

Surging forward as he broke from the trail of thought that had turned him completely silent, letting out a small hum in confusion, his eyes glancing over his screen. "Uh, sorry, I think I'm just drained or something." The blonde yawned, looking at the clock and noticing that it was just a few minutes before it would be midnight.

"Go to bed then sleepy," you say in a gentle tone, and Kenma leans his head in his palm as he listens to the clicks from your keyboard coming through your mic as you type in a sense of comfort.

"I know, I just wanted to stay up with you for a bit." He spoke in barely a whisper, hoping his noise suppression was able to pick up his sleepy tone.

"No, just go to bed and call me back tomorrow." The request didn't give much room for discussion as Kenma hummed, blinking lazily at his bright screen before opting that your idea was better than him trying to push himself to stay awake.

"Mkay, I’m heading out then. Goodnight ___."

"Night night, Kenma. I love you." Kenma had heard before he had clicked out of the call, an exhale coming from his mouth as he stretched against the leather of the chair. 

In his head, Kenma was wondering why the phrase he had heard come from your mouth so many times had seemed to sound so much different. He thought that maybe it was just the way you would have said it, speaking more gently than your usual semi-aggressive tone.

Whatever it was, Kenma had trouble sleeping without his thoughts spilling over in an anxious fit, trying not to drown in his own thoughts about you until it just all suddenly clicked all at once.

All the compliments and the way you would speak to him were now just making so much sense to the point where Kenma had to calm himself down from turning into a flustering mess as he lay in bed. How everything that you two would normally do together had just seemed so much more intimate.

It had all just made him feel so sick, not that he was digested in you in any way. 

If anything Kenma thought that you were a very pretty girl which was why he just didn't get it at all. 

Kenma saw himself as the most average guy ever. How could someone as beautiful and funny as you fall for someone like him? You two were nothing alike. 

Kenma usually found himself listening and staying quiet more as you led the conversation with your friends. 

You were always the one to invite him to things and always knew how to make him feel more comfortable whenever he was stressed about talking to new people or handling new situations.

Kenma always thought of himself as the disposable one, always following you about like a lost puppy. 

The only reason why he even had the friends that he did now was that they found you interesting and he just happened to be the package deal that your friendship came with. 

Which would always make him feel so fucking sad, always feeling as if he was holding you back from forming other relationships with people because of his selfishness. 

You were a very friendly person and Kenma always just had the fear that you would make many more friends to the point where you didn't need him anymore.

That thought of heartbreak scared him, so Kenma drifted away from you, not wanting to handle that situation at all, so he did what he did because he did not confront it or you in any way.

The two of you only speak whenever you stream with your usual group of friends. You no longer have your long chats after Kenma, always leaving a call with everyone else as soon as you end the stream. 

Every time that you managed to join a call with him, Kenma would always find some excuse about being too busy planning streams, struggling with his sleep schedule, or just dealing with stuff in his personal life. 

All these were just things he would tell you just to run away from his feelings. Each time he would leave you abruptly, causing an odd hurt in his heart.

Kenma just wished you hadn’t thought of him the same way he would have thought of you, and that he was better off just not knowing or understanding his own emotions as they continued to bubble over to the point where he would have to snap himself out of daydreams about you. 

If he wasn't streaming, he was thinking about you, fantasizing about what could happen if you two had pursued a romantic relationship, one where he could kiss you, hold you, and more thoughts that made him feel ashamed.

When he had gotten your message about wanting to check in on him, Kenma felt a slight tug of guilt in his chest. 

Immediately swipes away the notification and turns his phone on silent, no longer getting notifications, wrapping himself more into his lone streams to help himself feel distracted from dealing with his feelings.

Kenma didn't know how to handle things until they had gotten too out of hand, the routine of dodging and ignoring you expanding long enough to the point of weeks. He doesn't believe he has ever felt this guilt, and he knew that you were most likely wondering what you had done so wrong to be treated so harshly by the one person you would spend most of your time with.

He would see some tweets and comments under your videos from your fans mentioning him or how you just didn't seem to have that usual loud and funny personality that they associated with you, how you just seemed to have changed for the worse in the mood. 

Kenma felt like shit knowing that the reason for your change was all his fault, but he felt like it was all for the best.

Over time, the messages Kenma would get from you just became more depressing to look at, the short and sweet greetings and memes turning into longer paragraphs of you apologizing for something that you didn't even have an idea about.

youruser: can we talk please?

Kenma almost jumped out of his skin when he heard his phone vibrate from you trying to call him. His fingers reacting to her could even process hanging up the call before it could even ring twice.

youruser: i can literally see you online boy.

Kenma continues to reject the second time you call, his stomach dropping again and again with every attempt.

youruser: Kenma. 

The third call is the one that Kenma lets ring before answering.

"Ken-ken!" Your familiar chirping tone pierces through his headphones. Kenma pauses for a second, his thoughts clouding over, scrambling to think of what to say.

He waits for a moment, then says, "Oh, you're kind of loud, hey."

"Wow, that's kind of rude considering that you’ve been ignoring me this entire month. You're lucky that I care about you." Your sentence starts in a softer tone, souring at the end of the sentence as Kenma winces at the fact that you were so forgiving no matter the troubling things and obstacles that he had put you through. 

He much prefers you hating him than forgiving him completely. "I’m sorry, I've just been…busy." Kenma was lying, he knew that you were aware of that.

"Hm, okay fucking liar." You responded irritably as a pregnant silence followed, after settling through the call, even the sound of your typing coming to a halt.

"I don't know how to put this," he starts with an inhale, "but, uh, you have feelings for me." You make a choked up sound over the phone, taken aback by the sudden confession.

"I'm sorry, Kenma," you stammered as you panicked, not giving him a chance to respond before continuing. "I’m so sorry, I can't—don't want anything to change between us, we can just forget about it, please. I don't want to lose our friendship." you ramble on, your voice shaking as you begin to stumble and cry. 

Kenma grips his desk until his knuckles turn white. "No, no, it's not your fault, fuck, nothing's your fault," he begins to console you while also finally expressing the strange feelings he had been suppressing for nearly a month.

"I like you too, and that just—it fucking scares me. I don’t want you to date someone like me when you could be doing so much better. You deserve so much more than what I have." He admits before falling into silence, now that the secret was free Kenma felt as if there was a giant weight lifted off his shoulders finally shedding the burden of holding onto all of his emotions.

"Oh god, you stupid man thing," you sniffle before proceeding. "Kenma, I don't want better than you, I just want you with all the flaws you think you have or all your screw ups. I like that you've always been there for me no matter what. I like that you put up with me and my stupid jokes. I also like that I can talk to you so easily. I mean, that fact that you don't think you're enough is the most insane thing ever to me because you're all that I could ever want." 

"You actually want me?" Kenma asks softly. "I would even make a pinky promise on it."

"Woah, a pinky promise," he repeats with a laugh. "Are you sure? I mean, that's a lot of commitment. You're practically asking to be stuck with me forever."

"I wouldn't mind that one bit."

And with that, everything is back to normal. Furthermore, Kenma could officially call you his girlfriend, just not without turning into a stuttering, bashful mess. 

You found it adorable that he would still somehow be so nervous yet open around you.

It took him some time, but Kenma liked to think that he had eventually got it. It felt wonderful to have finally figured out why you liked him.

🔖 @yazmunson / @prblmtic / @zuuki / @awkwardaardvarkforever / @jadeisthirsting

tap here to be added to taglist.

[destinyc1020]

Confession: a lot of your anons, and you, are saying exactly what I’m thinking. I think Z unfollowing everyone threw newbies and younger fans for a loop. She’s been saying for a while that social media makes her anxious. I think the strike and postponement of her movies allowed her to see what life is like when she isn’t constantly working. She and Tom were able to continue building their lives together. They decorated their homes. They spent quality time with their families on different continents. Z was able to live without having to post on socials and I think she maybe realized how much she enjoyed being offline. She’s not about to get rid of Instagram, but unfollowing everyone is a way to make going online to post a quick pic about work easier. There are a lot of fans who feel entitled to her life, and messaging her, Darnell, and her family intrusive things. Once Challengers is released, I can see that immature people will flock to the comments, just like they did after a certain scene in TCR.

Z didn’t post about her quick trip to Brazil to attend the con with her Dune cast mates. She did not post the trailer or any of the other BTS clips that were released. She’s really taking a step back (but will be posting about it once her press tour starts). I think she’s largely done using social media for anything other than work. It drives me crazy when people automatically assume that clearing her following is solely about Tom because the signs of her wanting to be less active have been there. Z wants to protect her peace. Her relationship is part of that, but I don’t think that’s the only factor.

It also drives me crazy that some “fans” keep insisting or hoping that a break up happened. The man literally caught on film and emphatically denied a break up. A day afterwards (just last week!), Tom needed no prompting to mention Z in an interview. People just need to let them be and remember that they’ve never been the couple to be caught out and about every week at some hot spot. They genuinely enjoy their privacy.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. 😜 Sorry for the essay. 😅

Thanks for your confession Anon 😅

Although, I will say, I don't think it needed a confession tag since I think most people would agree with you post lol. But anyway, I completely agree 100% with what you just said here. Everything you stated is exactly how I feel as well. I also think fans freaking out about her removing who SHE follows is dumb. Now, if she went and blocked everyone and went PRIVATE, then I would be like: "Oh snap!!!!!!!!!" That would be totally different lol.😅 I don't even know if she would be allowed to do that tbh lol. I think she realized what is more important. And there are plenty of celebrities who don't like social media, and who don't even have social media, and they are doing JUST fine lol.

RE: Breakup rumors... I wish fans would use more common sense smh... 🤦🏾‍♀️ Why on earth would they break up right after they JUST spent the holidays together in London with Tom and his family? 🙄

Second, like you said... Tom emphatically denied any breakup rumors.

Third, as you mentioned, he mentioned her unprompted on the red carpet of the CCA's just last week! At this point, I'm just assuming that people who think they've broken up every 2 seconds are either super naive, or are just engaging in wishful thinking. 🙄

[kaeyx]

somno poe <333

adding onto the fucking Poe in his sleep part y'know what would be weirdly funny. Him noticing how sore you are in the morning/the next day or two. and KNOWING you fucked someone, but he didn't visit you last night. so he gets jealous but also anxious because. what if he WON'T get a chance with you at all & he's losing you. He knows he cant do anything too drastic because he wants you to love him, trapping you in a book can wait until he knows for absolute certain who your partner is , if it wasn't just a one night thing

whoever you slept with must have done a damn good job, you seem pretty happy.

even better if you fuck him in his sleep multiple nights

he either makes more frequent visits to you at night or just kinda. tries?? to be more friendly w/ you, getting you gifts & staying close to you and making sure he has your attention when he can, without it being too suspicious.

But, we know Poe's smart. Ranpo beats him, yes, but he's Ranpo. We really need to see Poe go against other detective people. but anyway thats beside the point

point is, eventually he'd connect the dots between; 1) he can't find anyone else's items in your house other than people he knows don't fuck you, 2) he sleeps deeper the nights before he notices that you're visibly sore & he's more tired/groggy in the morning, 3) he swears you've been looking at him a bit differently. he can't tell if you're plotting something [when you should fuck him next] or if you're almost admiring(?) him, and 4) no one else has been acting differently around you. there's no giveaway for who the hell you could be fucking.

it'll probably take a while to actually consider it for long because he doesn't see why you'd actually want him, but eventually he realizes he was the one you fuck. instant flustered mess & instant horny.

I wonder if he'd start plotting down the days you do it so he can find a pattern, & the next night that you do it he just pretends to sleep; he's figured out what exactly you keep slipping the sleeping pills into, as well, so it's easy to avoid sleep by not taking the drugged drinks.. he wants to catch you in the act, just to be absolutely certain~

...this ended up a lot longer than i meant it to and i have no clue how

YEAH IT WOULD BE SO GOOD!! Poe feels terrible at first, like he's going to be sick, he even contemplates trapping you in one of his books. Whoever fucked you must have done such a good job, you look so happy... and you walk a little funny and wince when you sit down, he can't bare to look at you. He can't stop thinking about how you might have looked, sounded, how your perfect cunt would have stretched so wide and been filled so deep.... until you were dripping cum and your cervix was all bruised, and it wasn't even him who did it. He mopes around all hay, half hard because he keeps imagining you getting fucked but also miserable because because it wasn't him that fucked you. And every time it happens he does the same thing, wakes up groggy after sleeping a bit too much and finds you skipping around, smiling at him, walking funny as if you've just had your guts rearranged.

But no matter how much he investigates he can't figure out who the hell is fucking you! And yeah Ranpo is the better detective but not by that much, Poe should have figured this out by now! He's so sad and frustrated and still he's obsessed with getting his hands on you, jerking off every night while dreaming of you, sighing when he blows a fat load all over his hands and stomach, getting the sheets messy, wishing he was dumping all that cum deep inside you instead.

I don't know if he'd figure it out or not but eventually Ranpo would have to tell him, probably kick some sense into him too because Poe will be in denial. Ranpo already knows what you've been doing even if you haven't confided in him, and he can guess when you're planning to strike next. He tells Poe to not eat or drink anything after lunch, not even out of a sealed packet and especially not anything you make, and then pretend to sleep and wait. He knows his friend is in for a happy surprise.

[in-my-feels-probably]

Empyrean - Chapter Three

Chapter 3

As morning came, the smoke from the fire was still billowing black smoke into the already existing haze above the rooftops. In the aftermath of the explosion, the Barrel was buzzing. There was no doubt Pekka Rollins had caught on to who was behind the bomb, and Elham felt like she was walking on eggshells, having to look around every corner for danger. The Crows–minus Kaz, Elham wasn’t quite sure where he had skulked off to–ducked into a cafe near the edge of town.

There was one thing that was certain in Ketterdam. The cafe’s would always be open, and their bars would always be stocked.

There’s nothing like a bit of Kaelish cinnamon whiskey in your coffee in the mornings, and a nice stack of waffles. At least, that's what Jesper always told her. She wasn’t much of a day drinker herself. But the occasion called for it, and who was she to deny Jesper his little joys?

She ordered a coffee for herself, and Jesper pulled a flask out of his new coat pocket. They took turns sipping from the mug, and Elham tried not to grimace as the whiskey burned going down her throat.

“The coffee is shit here,” she grumbled, eying the stack of waffles Nina had ordered for herself.

“Don’t even think about it, Creed,” Nina said, although she hadn’t taken her eyes off her breakfast yet. “I’m starving. Drink your breakfast, darling.”

Jesper took another swig, handing the mug back to her. “Drink it. You need something in your stomach, and you’re stressing me out. Stop looking so anxious. I’m sure he’s fine.” Elham scoffed, raising a hand to hit Jesper’s arm. He caught it, giving her a playful grin. She glared back at him, ripping her arm from his grip.

“That’s not what I’m worried about, thank you very much. It’s the opposite, if anything. If any of us are going to survive this, my money is on him. What I am worried about is stepping out the door and getting swamped by Dime Lions. Not exactly what I would call a good start to my morning.”

“Neither is day drinking,” Inej mused, though she offered Elham a smile that was the first comforting thing she’d seen all day. “It’s worse out there today.”

Jesper rolled his eyes, taking the mug back from Elham. “Worse how? We had to sleep on that novice’s floor. This body deserves a proper bed.”

“Word is we also killed a constable,” Inej said quietly, bracing herself for everyone’s reaction.

Elham groaned, slumping against Jesper’s side. He let her, which she was internally grateful for. He clearly was feeling the same way, slinging an arm around her shoulder.

“I have so many questions. How? Why? Who? Where? When? I guess…yeah. I guess that’s all of them.”

“Last night, after you escaped from the wagon–”

“I’ve got to tell you about that later, by the way,” Elham interrupted, sitting up straighter. “A man lost two fingers by the time we got out.”

Inej ignored her comment, although she made it a point to slide the mug closer to Jesper and further away from Elham. “Constable Sem was his name. Shot with his own weapon. Stadwatch are shaking down every informant they know.”

“So, they’re pinning this on Jesper?” Elham asked, slowly putting together the pieces.

“That’s ridiculous. I would never shoot someone with their own gun. Besides, it’s not even a good frame-up.”

Inej nodded, pouring everyone a glass of water. Elham took her glass gratefully, giving Jesper a sympathetic look as he leaned back against the booth bench. She took a long sip before setting it down, resting her hand on his arm as she absentmindedly rubbed her thumb along the suede of his coat.

It really did look good on him.

“Have you seen him today?” Jesper asked, and Elham straightened up as she realized he was talking about Kaz.

Inej shook her head. “No. He’s avoiding questions, I suspect.”

“Yeah, from all of us.”

Everyone’s eyes slowly fell on Elham, who just shrugged. “I would tell you if I knew anything. I’m serious, I really would. I haven’t seen him since this morning when he left early. If I had to guess, he’s finding a way to get us a little more muscle. Even if we get Wylan in on this, the six of us aren’t going to be enough to take on Pekka. And I guarantee that’s what it’ll come to.”

Satisfied with her answer, everyone seemed to shrug it off. Elham felt her chest tighten when Jesper let out a sad sigh, leaning his frame against hers.

“Blowing up the Crow Club…”

“Makes you wonder what else he’s willing to destroy,” Inej added, and Elham decided she wasn’t going to allow her brain to venture down that train of thought.

The outcome didn’t look promising. Explaining Kaz’s personal vendetta against Pekka wasn’t exactly something Elham felt comfortable doing, especially since she didn’t know how much the group actually knew about Kaz’s past with Pekka. He had given her bits and pieces of the story to stitch together over the course of a few years, but even she didn’t know the full extent. He hadn’t brought himself to tell her just yet, and she wasn’t sure he’d ever muster up the courage to do it. Still, she wouldn’t pry.

His past was his own.

And he never pried in on hers, so she’d do the same with his. But she couldn’t deny the guilt she felt when she looked at Jesper and Inej’s solemn faces, knowing they knew she had a part in planting that bomb. She hadn’t even questioned Kaz when he did it. She went along with it like it was any other job. Sometimes, it scared her just how much she was willing to do for him, even at her own expense. She cleared her throat, drawing the attention to her.

“We can rebuild it. All of it. Make it something new. I know it was our home,” she started, her voice wary. “But it never would be again while Pekka has it. We’d never be safe living on Dime Lion turf. It’s just four walls and a roof, you know? Everything in it is replaceable. But this…us…we’re not replaceable. I’d watch the club burst into flames a thousand times over if it meant keeping everyone at this table safe, and away from Pekka. I’d even light the match myself.”

There was a blaze in her eyes as she spoke, and the Crows didn’t know what to make of it. Just as Elham opened her mouth to backtrack–or at least try to–she heard a familiar click of a cane on plank wood floors coming towards the booth. Wylan followed close behind.

Jesper scooted so he was pressed up against the window, and Elham followed his lead. Inej did the same on her side, followed by Nina. Kaz took a seat next to Elham, and Wylan sat across from him.

“You made sure you weren’t followed?” Kaz asked as everyone settled back into the booth.

Elham nearly scoffed at the question, and it seemed the rest of the Crows were feeling the same. “Of course we did.”

“Jes has a question to ask you,” Inej started, and Elham made herself small against the back of the bench so she wouldn’t be caught under the burning gaze she knew Kaz had set on Jesper.

Kaz had a way of looking at you that could bring you to your knees under the sheer weight of his stare. She hadn’t yet decided if that was a good thing or not. In this case, it definitely was not.

“Good luck,” she mumbled, patting Jesper’s thigh.

He glared down at her, before looking up at Kaz. “Look, a lot has happened since last night. We found out we lost our home, and then you blew it up just to piss off Pekka Rollins.”

Jesper grew angrier as he spoke, some of his resentment landing on Wylan. Elham gave Wylan a small smile of reassurance from across the table, landing a swift kick into Jesper’s calf as a way of saying, lay off, and calm down. It’s not all on him.

“And?” Kaz asked, almost bored by Jesper’s recount of the previous night.

“Have you heard we also shot a Stadwatch with his own gun?”

Kaz paused for a second, but his voice didn’t falter. “All Stadwatch carry the same gun and it’s standard issue. This is Pekka Rollins firing back at us.”

“Who is this Pekka Rollins?” Nina asked, pushing her breakfast away from her. “Every time you say his name, your blood pressure skyrockets…yours too, Elham.”

Elham went rigid, risking a glance towards Kaz, before deciding that she should let him take the lead. After all, it was his plan that got him into this mess. His vendetta. Now, it was his mess to clean up, or–at the very least–explain.

“That’s not part of your purview, Heartrender,” Kaz said calmly, his tone toxic.

“You’re right. But I tend to have opinions, and…oh! Here's one. Anger clouds judgment.”

Inej piped in, trying to dissolve some of the tension amongst the table. “Pekka Rollins runs the Barrel.”

“He cheated his way into an empire by running cheap cons,” Kaz added. “He isn’t a boss, he’s a scourge.”

Elham nodded in agreement. “He’s a right fucking prick, if you haven’t gathered that yet. I don’t think anyone here has a nice thing to say about him. I certainly don’t.”

Nina nodded, settling back against the bench. “If you hate him so much, why not just hire me to kill him? Why hire me at all? Your Sharpshooter, your Valkyrie, or your Wraith could take him out, easy. Seems like you have a lot of options, so why me?”

“It’s not enough to kill him.”

A hush fell over the table, and uneasy glances were exchanged from everyone as they took in Kaz’s words. Elham was sure her face reflected anxiety, but inside, she felt something more. Rage. Kaz was right. It wasn’t enough to kill him. He needed to suffer.

Kaz seemed to sense everyone catching on to his moment of vulnerability, his mask of passiveness slipping back onto his face. “Killing him doesn’t help us clear our names. That’s why I need all of you, so I can hang everything back on him.”

“And we are the pawns who enact your personal vendetta?” Inej asked, glancing around the table.

I don’t mind being a pawn if it means getting to watch the King fall, Elham thought to herself, but she stayed silent.

“The four of us are under equal jeopardy,” Kaz said, looking between Jesper, Elham, and Inej, before looking between Nina and Wylan. “And if they catch us, we can’t protect you. You’ll have to turn to Pekka to see your man. No doubt with some very unappealing conditions attached.”

Kaz’s words reminded Elham that she had yet to ask Nina about the man she was so set on freeing. He must be quite the person for her to go through all this trouble. She made a mental note to remember to ask her about him later.

Jesper cleared his throat. “All that in mind, I mean…Inej, Elham, and I need to know the plan.”

“Um, yes…I, too, would like to know the plan,” Wylan added quietly, his first time speaking since he had sat down. He was a quiet person, Elham had noticed. She was really hoping she’d be able to get to know him better in the next few days.

Expectant eyes fell on Kaz, and the table was silent again. Kaz narrowed his eyes, before turning around to sweep the room and make sure no one was listening in on their conversation. He turned back to the Crows, leaning in.

“To get leverage on him, I need to know the scope of his business, inside out. There are two ways to learn this. The first is by following his private driver, tracking his schedule. Second…his accountant. Henrik Van Poel. If I get access to Pekka’s books, it’ll tell me everything I need to know. So, we need to get into that building.”

Kaz gestured across the street, and the Crows peered out the window to see what he was talking about. A building with three archways came into view.

“It’s where his accountant works. Although, there’s no way of knowing which office. That’s the mission. It looks like a typical office building, but it has a number of subtle features.”

“So, nothing for me to shoot?” Jesper asked.

Inej huffed, smiling to herself. “You can always shoot a lock if it makes you feel better.”

“You’re sassing me, but I recall that got you out of a jam once.”

Elham nearly snorted, covering her mouth as she tried to recover her laugh as a cough. “Sorry, sorry. My bad. Continue.”

Kaz rolled his eyes, exasperatedly staring up at the ceiling, before continuing. “This place values anonymity. The doors aren’t numbered. There are no names or placards. These aren't for businesses’ clients to visit, this is for people who value discretion. So…Jesper, Wylan, you follow the driver. Inej, I want you to take watch on the roof.”

Nina stood, leaving the booth with her plate in hand. Kaz continued giving directions until she came back, a fresh pitcher of water in her hand. She poured herself a glass as he directed his instructions at her.

“Nina, I need you with me while I copy Hendrik's books. Gunfire would only draw attention, but a Heartrender–”

“Has many skills,” Nina interrupted. “Like this. Second floor, second to last door on the left.”

Kaz looked taken back, almost surprised. “What?”

“Henriks’s office.”

Elham raised a hand, halting the conversation. “One, where am I going? And two, how do you know this?”

“I asked the waitress,” Nina said, like it was the most obvious solution. “People who work in places like that, they eat in places like this. Sometimes, they get the meals delivered. So I said, ‘Excuse me, but I have a delivery and I can’t read the directions.’ Ta-da.”

Elham smiled, clearly impressed. “Well, that’s one question answered, thank you Nina. On to the next. What am I going to be doing during all of this?”

Kaz turned to look at Elham, thinking for a moment before he spoke. “You’ll follow Inej’s lead and stand watch while she scopes out the best point of entry. I can’t have Jesper or Wylan making noise with guns or explosions, which is why they’ll follow the driver. But a sword is quiet enough, I expect. You’ll be there to help Inej, should she need it, and keep away any distractions by whatever means necessary. Nina will still go with me, seeing as her skills are proving themselves useful for the task at hand.”

“I like having her around,” Jesper grinned, making Nina smile.

“Mhm,” she started, turning her attention back to Kaz. “And I like truth. You said you’d get me in to see Matthias.”

Another silence fell over the group as everyone turned expectedly towards Kaz. Jesper leaned in to whisper to Elham as Kaz kept his eyes on Nina, clearly in thought.

“Scheming face,” he said, making Elham nod. “Should I be worried?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

–

Hours later, Elham followed Inej onto the rooftop where Kaz was waiting for them. He heard them coming, turning around just as Elham made it up the steps.

“What did you find?” He asked, turning back around to face the city rooftops.

Inej took the lead. “There’s a doorman even after hours, and a pair of roving guards in the halls. But I can get you in through a window if Nina watches the front.”

“I felt very unnecessary today, by the way,” Elham added, linking her arm with Inej’s. “Inej here is perfectly capable of handling herself. I spent the better part of my afternoon avoiding guards around every corner, trying not to make my boots click on the floor. I think my talents would’ve been better suited for babysitting Jesper, but that was up to you, boss.”

Kaz raised a brow as he looked at her, narrowing his eyes. “Did you drink today?”

“Oh, I haven’t stopped since this morning, babe.”

“You can thank Jesper for that,” Inej said, nudging into Elham’s side. “Don’t worry, she’s fine. I forced water down both of them, and Elham nicked Jesper’s flask so he’ll be dry for the rest of the day.”

Elham nodded, pulling her coat back to show the shiny flask in the inside pocket. “You’ll be happy to know I didn’t drink any. I still have my wits about me, I promise.”

Kaz looked at Elham for a long time as she began trying to shrink away from his gaze. He looked pissed, and his silence wasn’t exactly a good omen. Just as Elham opened her mouth to speak—and try and salvage the situation—he raised a hand, stopping her.

“Just don’t make it a habit…alright?” He said, content to drop it, turning back around to face the rooftops once more. “If this goes sideways, tell the others to regroup at Black Veil. Get the Heartrender. We leave in ten.”

“No,” Inej said, making Elham whirl around to face her. Kaz turned around as well.

“Not until you tell me what happened between you and Pekka.”

“Inej–” Elham started, but Kaz was quick to interrupt her.

“All you need to know is that I have a reason.”

Inej scoffed, shaking her head. “There’s enough secrecy in this crew as is.”

“Secrecy is the only way to survive the Barrel, Inej.”

“So keeping me in the dark is about survival?” She asked, turning to Elham. “You know, don’t you? You’d be asking questions otherwise, too.”

Elham sighed, laying a hand on Inej’s arm. “I know bits and pieces, and it’s not for me to tell. I don’t ask questions, and the Saints know I’m in no position to be lecturing other people about keeping secrets. I’d tell you if I could, Inej. Believe me, I would. I’m sorry I can’t do more.”

Inej gave her a nod of understanding, but it was hard to miss the look of obvious hurt on her face at Elham’s answer. Elham felt her heart sink as Inej stepped away from her, guilt settling in her stomach. Inej took another step towards Kaz, making him turn around.

“My survival, or yours? What about Elham’s?”

It was silent for a moment. Elham kept her eyes on the floor, and she had a feeling Kaz kept his there as well. Inej let out a defeated sigh.

“Trust is the other side of secrecy, Kaz. Remember that.”

Inej was gone before Elham could stop her. She let out a frustrated sigh, coming to stand next to Kaz on the ledge overlooking the city. He didn’t say anything, but she could feel his eyes on her as she stared ahead. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him, leaning her side against the ledge.

“You trust Inej, don’t you? I do. What’s the harm in telling her and Jesper something? Anything. Just a little bit to get them to understand that this is more important than they know. I’d be upset, too, if I was in their position.”

“But you’re not, are you?” He snapped, making her narrow her eyes.

“Don’t talk to me like that. It would do you good to remember that I am the only one who has stuck by your side for this long, despite the utter ass you can be sometimes. I wasn’t asking you to tell them your whole life story. I was just curious why you refuse to tell them anything at all. You told me, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t exactly pour my heart out to you, did I?” He spat, growing angry. “It’s taken years for you to piece it together, and even you don’t know the full story. I don’t ask about your past, Elham. Ever. So, don’t ask me about mine.”

He turned back to face forward without another word. Elham scoffed, an empty grin on her face. She knew he heard it by the way his shoulders tensed. She turned to head back down the stairs, stopping once she reached the top step. She looked over her shoulder to see him still facing forward.

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I want you to ask? That maybe I’d tell you, and all you had to do was ask. Inej is right, Kaz. Trust is the other side of secrecy. I figured, after everything…maybe you trusted me more than this. I guess I was wrong.”

Kaz finally turned around at her words, but he was too late.

“I’m going to find Jesper,” she said over her shoulder, already heading down the stairs. “Perhaps he’s in more of a talking mood.”

–

A/N - Hi! So sorry for the long wait on this chapter. It was originally one, but it was getting really long, so I decided to split it here. The second part should be out soon. Anyway, I hope you’re enjoying the story so far, sorry it’s taking me a while to get chapters out. I’ve been really busy, but I had a little while to write so I figured I’d at least get this chapter finished while I can. I’ll get back to this fic soon! Here’s chapter three for now, let me know what you think!

[oneweekoneobsession]

(Personal vent)

More than a year ago, I was first told, by my mom, that I might be autistic. Her therapist had told her that she might be, and when she had looked into it, she really felt that it fit with me. She gave me a book, and never talked about it again.

Reading the book, I felt that it explained so many things. It made so much sense. I had never really looked for an answer about my differences and my difficulties, but this felt like it. It was really a surreal experience to read a book just talking things I lived and struggled with. Especially since nobody had really acknowledged until then that my issues had an impact on me or was anything other than an inconvenience for others. It was liberating.

(On a side note, it made me think about why, exactly, seeing people like me made me cry of joy. I never understood more the importance of representation than in that moment where I felt seen for the first time as who I was)

I spent months and months reading and researching autism and wether I might really have it every single day. I did every test, watched every video, saw every meme, followed every blog, everything. I was desperate for a definitive answer. Even though self-diagnosis is perfectly okay, I never felt really confident enough to do it. There is always this doubt, this thought of 'I'm faking it'. I felt to self-conscious and insecure about it, I couldn't dare self-diagnosing.

After a few months, I worked up the courage to talk to my sister about it. She is the person I'm closest to, and she had been really understanding in the beginning of my process. We talked about it (and how she realized she was probably ADHD), and if felt really nice, even though I was still so uncomfortable being so open about something that felt so personal.

We talked about maybe my getting an official diagnosis, and how it could help me, especially about finally having this sense of understanding of who I am, having the words to express what I'm living, and getting some help.

It still took more than a couple of months before we finally brought up this subject with my mom (since I didn't feel comfortable talking about it with my dad for personal reasons). We had agreed that my sister would do most of the talking, since I tend to have trouble speaking and expressing myself when anxious.

We talked to her about it a few months ago, and she agreed that it could be a good thing for me to pursue a diagnosis. She however warned me that it wasn't certain I would get it, and that it could be long.

My diagnosis assignment is still more than six months away. I can't wait, but I feel so scared. I don't even now at this point what I would prefer. Because, getting a diagnosis is mostly validation. For me, it would be a someone saying 'This isn't in your head, this is real'. Yes, it would be so relieving. But it is also so scary. First, having the confirmation that I spent my whole life being autistic and not having the support I needed would be a weird experience. It would also mean having to come to terms with the fact that my difficulties aren't just going to magically go away, even though I'll keep finding ways to make my life easier, every step of the way.

However, I think what I'm a most scared of is of not getting a diagnosis. What would I do ? Would I spend the rest of my life unsure whether I didn't get it because I'm allistic or because I masked to much or because I'm a woman, or because I didn't get diagnosed as a child ? Would this whole journey of self-discovery go in the trash ? Would I need to start over again ? I have always felt different than everyone around me. I felt broken, incomplete, inadequate. Even though I shouldn't need it to know that it's not true, this diagnosis would be proof that I'm not. It would mean finding a community of people like me. But what if I don't get it ? What if I just have to accept I'll never connect completely with anyone ? What if I just have to accept that my uniqueness, which I still strongly believe is a good thing, will make me unable to fit in with any one or any group ?

Anyway, I spent last night panicking and I wanted to talk about it because I don't see many people talking about this pre-assessment anxiety. I can't wait for the moment to come, because I feel like I'm going to burst with anxiety any moment. I'm counting the days, and even though I already got through the first four months of waiting, I don't know how I'll get through the next six. Oh my god, why is this so long ?

[maideninorange]

Hmmmmm 47 with Tsubakura and... Idk whoever you wanna write that particular brand of angst with because I can't decide between YabuTsuba, TsubaKuro, or some other ship I haven't thought of.

47. "I don't trust you to be alone."

Why do Yabusame or Kuroji when I could do Yabusame and Kuroji at the same time?

(TW: while nothing of that nature happens here, there are still detailed and heavy discussions of a planned suicide and mental illness (mainly depression, though there is also a little mention of anxiety at one point). Stay safe everyone!)

There was something wrong with Tsubakura.

Yabusame couldn't explain how they know something is wrong, but they just knew. Tsubakura is never this happy during their misery weeks, as they like to call them. They usually either sleep, roam, or murmur self-deprecating remarks, and so their mood can best be described as static.

So when Yabusame heard Tsubakura say with a smile that they will never need to worry about them again tomorrow, warning sirens sounded in their gut that they needed to do something. Fast.

And so they acted on their first instinct: drag Tsubakura over to Kuroji's place in order to see if they could help out. They may fool Jinbei and Shion (if only to a certain extent; Yabusame managed to keep them from following by promising to get them some tasty souls before they return), but they cannot fool Yabusame. They remembered Kuroji muttering something about being "so anxious they can't feel anything", whatever that meant. So maybe they can help Tsubakura?

Those were the thoughts running through their head as they knocked on the door.

"Yabusame, how many times do I have to tell you? I'm fine." Tsubakura insisted for the umpteenth time, "See, look at me! I'm fiiinnnee!"

All Yabusame saw were the sunken eyes and weathered clothes and hair of someone who hadn't bathed in days.

"No you're not!" they snapped back, "I'm so sorry, Tsuba, but there's something really, really wrong here. I don't know what, but..."

"I'm afraid you'll do something you'll regret," were the words that wouldn't leave their mouth. All they could do was give Tsubakura a pained, pleading look. They were not fine, otherwise they wouldn't be fighting so hard to avoid seeing Kuroji.

Tsubakura only scoffed, "Don't give me that look. I'm telling ya, you're overthinking this. Besides, what good is a burden to such a carefree airhead anyway?"

Yabusame wanted to respond, but they never got the chance to. Almost as soon as Tsubakura finished speaking, the door opened.

The person who greeted them was, of course, Kuroji. It usually is, since Yabusame is pretty sure they and Tsubakura are the only visitors they get on a regular basis, if at all. There were noticeable bags under their eyes and their muscles looked tense, but it was nothing too out of the ordinary for them.

"Great, what are you two doing out here at this time of-"

All of that ordinariness evaporated the moment they laid eyes on Tsubakura.

"Tsu-Tsubakura?! You seem rather-"

"I'm fine," Tsubakura insisted again, "Already said it about fifty-seven times to this wonder of the universe. How many times will I have to spell it out to ya too?"

"Says the person who obviously hasn't cleaned themself in two weeks," they stole a glance Yabusame's way, eyebrows raised as if asking them to explain themselves.

"Tsubakura, you're really scaring me," Yabusame began, unsure of how to really describe it. Frankly, they weren't really sure how they knew something was wrong with them. On the surface, nothing was, at least for them during one of these periods of empty melancholy they are prone to having. It was more just a gut feeling than anything concrete.

"I...I don't think you should be alone right now."

"What are you talkin' about? I'm fine, you'll be fine, everything will be fine tomorrow." They flashed a lopsided grin, slightly twitching, "I'll give them exactly what they want, and then nothin' bad oughta happen to any of you ever again."

Kuroji paled, their nails digging into their jacket. Their face hardened, "Yabusame-kun is right for once. I don't trust you to be alone either."

"Don't be ridiculous you two! I'm fine! I'm fine!" They repeated, laughing way too hard for it to be genuine. They took a step back. And another. And another.

"Oh no you don't!"

And then, Kuroji vanished from the doorstep and reappeared behind Tsubakura. They forced their hands under their shoulders, stopping them in their tracks. Tsubakura tried to stomp their foot on Kuroji's, but it did nothing to deter them.

It was then that Yabusame acted. They grabbed Tsubakura's wrists, wincing at their vacant stare, betrayed.

"Unhand me, you dumbasses! Why won't either of you listen to me?!"

"Are you even listening to yourself?! The only person in danger right now is you!" Kuroji shouted, "What would ever make you think killing yourself would protect us?!"

Oh?!

Yabusame blinked. Their grip on their wrists froze in place, their jaw slack, "Tsuba...You...Is Kuroji-san right? You were actually going to-"

"Yes!!! Okay?!" Tsubakura snapped. Then, they stumbled forward, their head hanging low, "Caught me red-handed..."

Yabusame faltered as they fell towards them, their hand shaking as they reach for the back of their head. All the fight Tsubakura once had was utterly gone. Only untold suffering remains.

They knew they weren't anywhere near as smart as either Tsubakura or Kuroji. Or most normal people, for that matter. But man, did Yabusame feel like an idiot right now. The allusions to their plan, once obscure and confusing, were now so...so obvious in hindsight.

Their odd joy over the past couple days, the sorting through various chemicals, and the allusions to things "getting better" tomorrow...It felt so clear to them now.

That did not change the fact the realization of Tsubakura's horrible plan felt like a searing knife had plunged through their chest.

Kuroji let go of Tsubakura, letting Yabusame scoop them up in a tight hug. They just stood there, tense, observing them as Tsubakura sank into the affection. Them not fighting tooth and nail against it was most likely the biggest sign that they really shouldn't be alone right now, and both of them understood that fact uncomfortably well.

Eventually, Kuroji moved. They put their hand on Tsubakura's back, stroking them lightly as their version of comfort.

"...Inside. Now."

Tsubakura raised their head from Yabusame's shoulder, eyes stained red, "But what abou-"

"Saragimaru is out stalking that ancient reptile they call their sibling." Kuroji affirmed swiftly, "As for the other two blabbermouths... They know better than to ask unwanted questions."

They rub their neck uncomfortably. Even if Tsubakura wasn't currently consuming all of their thoughts, Yabusame would've known better than to pry.

The moments after that felt like a blur. Kuroji approached, and so Yabusame adjusted Tsubakura so that they could both lead them into the shabby cabin. Hooaka and Aoji, like Kuroji had said, only stared in awe at them. A single glare shut down any lingering words either might've had on the tips of their tongues.

Yabusame only felt awareness return to them when they reached Kuroji's bedroom. They worked quickly to help Tsubakura sit down on the futon. The moment they touched the shoddy mattress, their dearest friend just curled in on themself.

They've given up on everything. And that broke their heart.

Kuroji was at Yabusame's side again in an instant, a washcloth in hand. They dabbled it on Tsubakura's forehead, an unreadable expression on their face as they drew in deep breaths.

"So tell me, Tsubakura: What would ever make you think killing yourself is magically going to solve all of our problems?!"

Tsubakura tensed, before slumping forward. Even with the clear pains in Kuroji's voice they must've been taking to restrain themself. Yabusame squeezed their hand, cringing.

"I...I really don't know. It's just that with their return, I just know they'll be gunnin' for both of ya, just like anyone else stupid enough to get close to me..."

Long, dirty nails went to dab away gathering tears from their gaunt face, "So I ended up thinkin' to myself: 'Maybe the little voice in the back of my head is right? Maybe y'all are better off without me in the way?' So-Sorry...No grand noble reason here...As disappointing as the rest of me..."

"Don't be ridiculous," Kuroji scoffed, "Would attempting to surpass you be such a difficult task if you were a complete disappointment?"

"Would be a waste of time either way," they refuted, monotone, "Always had this funny obsession with me..."

"My point still stands." They scowled, clasping their hands together, "Besides, wouldn't committing suicide be exactly what that asshole wants? To have known they've driven you to that point must make them giddy with joy."

"I guess...But I still don't get why both of you would want me alive. I've been nothing but awful to ya..." Tsubakura gritted their teeth, clutching Yabusame's tie, "Especially you, Yabusame..."

"That's in the past now though! I could never hate ya, Tsuba..." Yabusame went to lightly boop Tsubakura on the nose, hesitated for a moment (What if they get mad at me? They're going through so much...), then did it anyway before they could lose their nerve.

But Tsubakura didn't swat their hand or pout like they usually do. Instead, they weakly grasped Yabusame's wrist, gaze almost vacant. They turned to look at Kuroji, voice wavering, "Come on, you hate me, don't cha? You have to, after all my-"

"Think you're annoying as hell? Absolutely. But hate you? To the point of wishing for your death?" Kuroji pressed close to Tsubakura's other side, brushing the messy strands of unkept hair away, "Would I entrust my siblings' well-being to you if I wanted you dead?"

Tsubakura gaped, their breathing shallow. Tears pooled in their eyes, "There's no way...You mustn't miss me when I'm..."

"That isn't the Tsubakura I know talking. It's the little demon in your head." Kuroji reaffirmed, "I won't pretend I understand your feelings, but I know what it's like to be hated. Just know that-"

"Don't say it..."

Kuroji didn't get the chance to. Yabusame said it instead.

"You're not alone!"

And that was when the dam burst. Tsubakura pulled them and Kuroji in, ugly, messy sobs reverberating out of them. Yabusame wrapped their arms tightly around them, letting them bury their head into their shoulder. They could feel Kuroji's hands find their way to their sides, mimicking the gesture in their own way.

Yabusame felt like they remained in that hug for hours. They didn't even realize they had started crying themself until they noticed the small stain of tears on Tsubakura's clothing. But that didn't matter. Nothing mattered beyond the wails of Tsubakura's walls crumbling around them.

Eventually, Kuroji pulled away. Tsubakura made a weak attempt to grab their jacket, but that got them nowhere. So they settled for gripping Yabusame tightly, and refusing to let go.

That's fine though. Tsubakura needs it, so Yabusame is happy to provide it.

"I think...it might be best if you stay the night," Kuroji finally said, rubbing their reddened eyes, "Your shikigami shouldn't have any objections, no?"

Yabusame mouthed the syllables for "no". They actually weren't sure, but when has that ever stopped them or Tsubakura in the past?

"Good. I'll be making gyutan for dinner tonight. Yabusame-kun, prepare a bath for Tsubakura. Don't let them out of your sight."

Tsubakura perked their head up, sniffling, "But...But don't you have-"

"Aoji can use their special ability to clean themself if it comes to that, so you're not wasting water. Saragimaru never comes back until after midnight without a little...reminder, so they shouldn't be an issue," Kuroji listed off, "So no, you are not a burden, and I'm going to keep saying that until you believe it."

"But..."

"Think of it this way, Tsuba!" Yabusame cut in, "No Sensei telling you what to do for a whole night! Besides, this is your one chance to make Kuroji-san put ink in your food!"

"That's where your mind went?!"

But unfortunately for Kuroji, this did the trick. Tsubakura let out a small chuckle, hoarse from crying, but still geniune, "Mm, you heard the airhead. Put aaalll of the ink you got lying around in my serving! I want every last drop!"

"You two make me sick," Kuroji stuck their tongue out, "Give you just a little preferential treatment, and you'll take it a good kilometer and a half..."

"But aren't the best kinds of treatment the ones that go on for kilometers?" Yabusame wasn't entirely sure what they meant by that. Wasn't more usually better?

"Which is why this isn't a regular thing. I just felt generous tonight."

"Hah! You being generous...I think that's the best joke I've heard all day," Tsubakura snickered.

"Just go take your bath. And don't worry, I've been upgrading my security. They won't be getting in again anytime soon," The corners of Kuroji's mouth flickered upwards as they turned to leave.

"Take care of Tsubakura for me, alright?"

Yabusame nodded.

And with a soft thud, the door slid shut and Kuroji was gone.

Tsubakura turned to Yabusame, blowing their nose with the washcloth from earlier, "So..."

Yabusame put their hands on Tsubakura's trembling shoulders, "We'll get through this. We always do. They're not gonna beat us this time!"

Tsubakura patted them on the back, the closest they typically get to a full blown hug. They smiled, "Thank...you..."

"You're welcome. I don't know what I'd do without you." Were the words Yabusame wanted to say in that moment. But as gratitude is a rare sight from Tsubakura, they keep it to themself.

Tsubakura wasn't going to get better tonight. Or tomorrow night. Maybe a week from now if they're lucky. But their misery weeks will pass like always. They just needed a reminder every now and then.

But that was fine with Yabusame. Since happiness is out of reach for them right now, Tsubakura's well-being is all that mattered to them.

Until Tsubakura can find joy in life again in life, that is. But until that day comes, Yabusame will settle on being a comfortable support beam for them.

(Kuroji feels the same way, no doubt. Not that they'd ever say it aloud though...)

[hologramcowboy]

But my thing is if she can support Gen by driving her to the airport to meet Jared when he had his mental breakdown, why couldn’t she have done the same for Jensen? She didn’t even have to fly to him, she could’ve just FaceTimed him or talk to him through the phone and be there for him in that sense. I mean she flew to New York for NYCC and her and Gen have gone to New York together in the past. She flew up to Canada for her nepo role on Spn. She flew out for her role on that hallmark movie that Hilarie got her. She went all they way to Rome for the one recent con she went to. Hell, they probably flew for Sophia’s wedding. So Jensen’s telling me that every time she has gotten on a plane she needed to have a drink before she was ok? Yeah, I don’t buy that. I don’t doubt she has anxiety when it comes to flying or other things, but after all this time I would think she doesn’t need to drink to be comfortable. I also was anxious when I first flew, but I was better by the second time (and I didn’t need to have one drink).

Besides her not drinking is a blantant lie, we've seen her have full blown mental breakdown on Insta lives while fully drunk so she's not shy about alcohol, I think Jensen just idealizes her and turns a blind I or, perhaps, simply spends so very little time with her he truly is unaware of her habits.

Anyone remember the L.A video of her dropping wasted to the floor and the sidewalk on the street as Elizabeth Harnois and friends picked her back up? That video conveniently disappeared as she rose to fame but it showed her partying and how intense it was, plus the multiple pictures of her partying around Jensen himself back then. She was beyond wasted in most of the pictures. My point is Jensen likes to paint a nice and proper picture of her perhaps because even he cannot accept who he married. He wants to appear a certain way but enjoy another type of person altogether, why put on a facade? Why not just appreciate Elta for who and what she is? Sorry, getting carried away, I just really wonder why he feels the need to cover for her and constantly warp the image of her. At the end of the day, once she comes into play people see exactly who she is so what's the point in playing her up a different way? It's almost as if he wishes she were someone else...I'm just going to end on that cryptic note right there. A soulmate she is not. 🤣

[ughwhateveridek]

Blog 8

Past Life

"The soul is not born;

it does not die;

it was not produced from anyone;

Unborn, eternal, it is not slain, though the body is slain."

– Katha Upanishad

Past life is a previously lived life in a different body.

Just like how the sun rises and sets everyday, the Earth completes one rotation in 24 hours, it completes one revolution around the sun in 365 days, a plant grows then dies and then goes back to the Earth only to be reborn again, it is a part of nature for souls or energy to be reborn/reincarnated.

All of us definitely have experienced some extraordinary feelings, sensations or memories that seem to occur from a mysterious experience, some time or the other.

Biggest of those uncanny feelings has to be phobias or fears without a reason that you're aware of. Maybe you've never had a bad experience with water but you're still scared of drowning.

I, for example, am terribly scared of hotel rooms, but just at night. I'll be completely fine during the day but right as the clock hits 9 or 10, I suddenly become so paranoid that I can't keep calm. And no, I've not had something bad or dangerous happen in hotel rooms but still. And the fear doesn't just kick in once or twice, it happens everytime I'm on a trip and stay in a hotel. And I was so frustrated because I just couldn't figure out why I ended up feeling like that, EVERY TIME! It wasn't until last year that somebody pointed out that my fear is totally valid because maybe something bad did happen in my previous life and that's why I always get so anxious. Weirdly, I believed that.

There's also the fact that we sometimes end up seeing one same dream multiple times. Maybe it isn't just a figment of our imagination but a memory from our past life.

Same applies for Déjà vus.

Have you ever read about a certain historical period and have been really attracted to it? Like if you could, you'd go back and live in that era? That could be because in your previous life you lived in that age and now your soul craves that familiarity.

Also, the fact that some people are young at heart even later in their lives, the same way some people are old souls at a very young age. Feeling older than your age is commonly associated with having reincarnated many times. You are an old or a mature soul if you feel older than your age.

At times some of these things become so much that you're unable to live your present life well. You're so traumatized from your past that you can't be in the present unless you get over them somehow.

Past life regression helps people to do exactly that. Past life regression is a method that uses hypnosis to recover what practitioners believe are memories of past lives or incarnations.

It's not been Scientifically proven and I don't know how I feel about it either, but if it helps you then great.

I believe Soulmates are a wonderful example because they're the people who've been with your soul and not just your physical body that you had for one life.

Past lives, for me, reinstate the concept of 'heaven' and 'hell' in the sense that your actions matter. If you committed great sins in your past life you'll pay the price for them in this life. And if you continue to pay, and get over them, you'll be adding good for your further lives thus creating 'heaven' for yourself.

Whether you believe in all this or not, every thing, every action, good or bad, every person, even random strangers you see on the street, matter. And they matter a lot. And so do you. Just like how they're somehow important to you, you and your actions are important to others as well so don't you ever forget that.

[adapembroke]

Building an Astrology Practice You Love

A friend of mine asked a really great question about my astrology practice. I am on lots of different platforms. I am on Instagram. I have a blog. I have a Patreon. I have a membership program where I offer classes. She wanted to know, when I have something to say, how do I decide where to say it? This is a question that dogged me for a long time. I would be inspired, and I would agonize about where to post it to the point that the inspiration evaporated, and I was left with nothing. When I was thinking about how to answer her question, I realized that I no longer agonized about where to post, and I couldn't remember when that happened. I was just able to create with confidence. I thought for a while about why that was. I came to the conclusion that the change had very little to do with building systems or creating rules for myself and my practice. It had everything to do with a larger change in mindset about how I see my practice and its place in my life.

The Importance of Asking the Right Questions

Last year, I took a class with the marvelous Susannah Conway. Her main gig is teaching. She offers online classes about journaling, tarot, and working with your inner child. But she also offers a class where she gives a behind the scenes tour of her business. That business class changed my life. Until I took Susannah's class, I thought building a business (which is what an astrology practice is, even if we don't like to think of it that way) was about following a bunch of rules. Not just tax rules and legal rules. Those aren't negotiable. But rules about how things "should be done," rules about how I should live. Through taking Susannah's class I realized that if I was going to build a business that made me miserable, I should just get a job at a big office building. At least then my employer might cover my health insurance. If I am going to take the risk of working for myself and weather the ups and downs of an irregular income and having to deal with insurance and saving for old age by myself, I should be building a practice that actually makes me happy. This realization lead to a massive shift in mindset. Before, I asked myself questions like: what is the most effective strategy for getting astrology reading clients? Then I would look at the strategies and ask myself if I considered them to be ethical and authentic for me. Now, I ask myself what kind of life I want to live and how I want to share my time and expertise with my people. Then I ask about the most effective way to create what I want to build. I'm still asking the same questions, but the order in which I ask them is the difference between feeling empowered and feeling trapped and anxious.

The Astrology Practice I Love

So, specifically, what does that mean for me and my practice? What is the life I want, and how am I trying to build it? I like to have the flexibility to follow my curiosity. I get bored when I have to do the same thing every single day. Knowing this, I prioritize projects that give me the opportunity to explore things I'm interested in. On Patreon, I've committed to building a library of astrology lectures, but I don't make promises about what, exactly, the lectures will be about. This gives me the space to explore while creating enough structure that people know what to expect and can follow what I'm doing. Being unpredictable isn't always possible. When I am working on a platform (like Instagram or Patreon) that requires regular updates, I schedule things in advance, so I can have a regular release schedule without having to work in a regular and predictable way. When I have a commitment that requires me to personally be at a certain place at a certain time, I make sure that it's worth the sacrifice of flexibility. Partly, it's about making sure that I'm getting paid, but it's just as important that the commitment meet a need of mine in some way. I am an extrovert, so I have made sure that my most inflexible commitments allow me to work with people. The creative, content-creation side of my practice is almost entirely solitary. I need social interaction enough that I am excited attending pre-scheduled appointments. I like people, but I love going deep and building relationships. Few things excite me more than seeing a message or an appointment request from someone I know. To encourage my practice to lean in the direction of interaction with familiar faces, I have created massive incentives for people who want to work with me on a regular basis. People who join my membership program have access to my Discord community and the opportunity to talk with me in text chat almost every day. With their 50% off discounts, astrology readings are more accessible for them, too.

For regular clients who aren’t interested in a subscription, I offer discounts for buying a bunch of readings up front. Making sure that my work is either flexible and exploratory or structured and social means that I am getting an essential need met through my astrology practice all the time. Getting those needs met gives me energy, even if I'm not meeting all of my needs all the time.

Your Mileage May Vary

It's likely that at least some of the people who read this will think the astrology practice I described sounds like their perfect hell. To me, it's heaven. It fits like the perfect pair of jeans. A lot of people would see this as a problem because there are no clear instructions, no 5-step plan to follow, no advice that will work for everybody. Me, I think it's wonderful. One of the things that makes astrology special is the way that it truly celebrates human differences. We can honor the humanity of others without pretending that we're all the same under the skin. I can recognize the experience of a person with four planets in Pisces without feeling like I need to live like they do when I have a chart with no planets in Pisces. You can build a practice that sounds like my perfect hell, and you can find clients who love the way you work. I can work in a different way that might not work with them so much. This difference style allows us to work side-by-side in the same industry without feeling like we're competing with each other because, at the end of the day, our way of being in the world is as different as Jupiter and Saturn.

[thatgirlpas]

overcome yourself to become yourself

nothing is promised.

As blunt as that sounds it always seems to sing true to me at certain points in my life. It’s annoying that it always comes about when death is involved, its a cold, chilling feeling that in some way has now brought me a sense of comfort. By comfort, I mean that by thinking nothing is promised, in a way it’s like f it let me live now, nothing is promised so now let’s release our worries and learn to enjoy life to the fullest. Not in a corny way but it’s true and it’s hard to recognise sometimes but those little moments like when you’re belly-ache laughing with your girls till you’re out of breath type times, or when you have special moments with a loved ones. You know the heart-strings pull , the omg- I-love-you-so-much feeling. The moments that are indescribable. I think that’s why I’ve started to pull my phone out at every given moment to just capture these feelings because its important. When I look back at these, I’ll remember the love and laughs. Which is funny because I scream daily “How can I live love laugh in these conditions??!”. Either way, Life comes and goes very fast. You’ll blink and you go from being that loud free-spirited teenager to this mature 20 something adult. To me, what’s crazy is that majority of the time when I look back, yes there were some good times that I enjoy but during that time I didn’t feel so great at that time. It’s like when you look back at old photos and see yourself and you think “ Damn was that me?” “ I look good af” and maybe at that time you didn’t feel so great at that time. I used to spend so much time again just THINKING. Stuck in my own thoughts that just bred from the unshakeable feeling of un satisfaction in my life. All that time had gone past and it was wasted on not feeling good about myself. I didn’t have my dream yet, I’m not financially where I want to be, nothing is going right, that all woe is me mindset. Not to invalidate my own feelings but sometimes it really was my own mind holding me back. It's so easy to think that everything is not my fault and everything is happening to ME. I would sit and overthink every detail that I dislike about myself, my life. In a way that rumination brought me comfort. Misery loves comfort and I revelled in that. It’s exactly like in Big Mouth where the depression cat is this big warm character that encourages the all negative patterns whilst wrapping a blanket around Jessie so that she doesn’t want to leave that one scene in the ward. Whoever was in the boardroom and pitched that scene was spot on by the way because that is exactly how it feels. When you hit a low and if feels like each day you’re fighting everything at this point. I might have moments where I can’t think past my daily worries, the usual bs but now I’m in a period where I have to remain present because again nothing is promised. I can’t change what happened today, last week or control tomorrow. I can only do what I can do today. It’s not the easiest process to go though, I have to wake up be my own cheerleader, be a daughter/grand-daughter,sister, cousin and the best friend. It’s a lot of roles to play in 24 hours. What’s crazy is that it’s never a chore its just life. You play your role. You show up, fuck shit up and leave. That’s how I’ve started to view things as an anxious babe myself, sometimes you get to that point where the scary parts of life aren’t so scary. Life is a scary but also exciting thing. you (I) just have to remember that nothing is certain, so do all really can do each day is survive the damn day. In that from when you wake up till you go to sleep. Show up and do your damn thing. That’s all you can do. Do You. If that’s me spending the day just doing laundry and cleaning or going to work or sleeping the whole day. That’s my day that day. We keep moving and do everything to become your true self and enjoy life to the fullest. all those fears are just thoughts and at some point you have to overcome yourself to become yourself.

Anyways this is just my thoughts at 1am x

[wontyoubemypanacea]

November 7th, 2022

I do wonder how much of them- how much of everyone, is scripted like I am. There are certain things that just come out of me because I know it’s what I am supposed to say. Usually, it’s moments I would otherwise be incredibly uncomfortable in- when someone is sick, when they’re upset, when they’re grieving. Words just just spill from my mouth- I’m so sorry, that's awful. You don’t deserve that. That is so much for one person to deal with. If you need someone, I’m here. Have you eaten today? Are you properly hydrated? Getting some rest? Let me know if there’s anything I can do.

It can’t be terribly comforting for anyone to hear me spit out these phrases time and time again like a robot. There are times I notice them being a robot too- when I tell them I’m having a bad day and they immediately jump into asking whether I’m practicing self-care, or when I tell them something means a lot to me and they reply that it means a lot to them that it means a lot to me, and we just get stuck in an endless loop.

I don’t necessarily dislike it- I’d be a hypocrite to dislike it, since they’re presumably doing exactly what I’m doing. I do feel bad when I get a robot response when I’m the first person to reach out, though. I know it’s probably because they’re busy at work and don’t have time to really respond, or maybe they just don’t have any really interesting thoughts about what I have to tell them, but it still feels like making a phone call and being met with an answering machine. (I have to remind myself that I’m certain they feel a similar way when I’m an answering machine, though.)

I prefer to let them reach out to me first. That’s my comfort zone- I let other people decide they want to pursue me, because I’m familiar with the feeling of being pursued and not wanting it, and I don’t ever want to make them feel that way, in case I don’t catch the social cues telling me that they want me to leave them alone. (Or at least, that’s what I tell myself. Maybe it’s actually because I don’t know how to reach out at all, at least not in a way that feels natural. Maybe that’s why I get the robot response every time.)

At the same time though, I fear that because I never reach out, I will seem disinterested. I see people on social media conducting “social experiments” by stopping being the first one to text and seeing how long it takes for the other person to finally reach out first- the concept that some people do that without warning makes me so anxious I feel ill. At this point, we text at least once or twice a day. On days when we haven’t spoken to each other, I get more anxious the darker it gets- do they expect me to reach out? If they haven’t reached out yet, that probably means they’re busy- if I reach out, will I be bothering them? But if I don’t, will one day turn into one week into a month into never talking to each other again?

The one exception to my aversion to being the first person to text is when I’ve made something for them. If I’ve written a poem or a love letter or drawn something I think they’ll like, I have no issue with texting first because then I have a reason. Then, if they ask me “Why are you bothering me?” (which I know they won’t, but what if they did?) I’ll be able to hold up my reason and be vindicated. “FOR THIS!” Of course, there are other reasons I make them art. It’s a guarantee that we will have something to talk about. Additionally, though I know they don’t enjoy accepting gifts, they seem to have enjoyed the art I’ve made in the past. It seems like it is generally a safe bet in terms of ways I can get the “I NEED TO MAKE SOMETHING FOR YOU” gift-giving love language out of my system with a limited method of communication like texting.

I’ve noticed I do that a lot with people I like. Generally, if I want to get in contact with someone I admire, like a clown, an artist or someone like them, I’ll reach out with art first. A gift to silently express that admiration without words, because if I used my words I’d sound like an utter weirdo. (If I could snatch the goofy sentimental letter I wrote to Circus Hollywood last summer out of their hands and burn it, I would. WHY did I think that was a good idea?) Art bridges the language gap, and also the charisma gap, that exists between a lot of the people I admire and I. In my eyes, they are far enough above me at this point that I can’t give them much, but at least I can give them that.

[flowerstardrops]

HAIKYUU BOYS HAVING A CRUSH ON YOU

GENDER-NEUTRAL READER

CHARACTERS: tsukishima kei & kozume kenma

( part i. akaashi keiji & kita shinsuke )

( part iii. suna rintarō & kuroo tetsurō )

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TSUKISHIMA KEI

He’s the type to actively deny his feelings the moment when he feels his heart pump rapidly at the sight of you. Inside his mind is a whirlwind of possibilities as to why he gets nervous around you all of a sudden, but he doesn’t want to consider having a crush on you. It’s not you who’s the problem, but rather, it’s the general troublesome concept of liking someone.

He holds his image to a certain degree of regard, and it would be irritating to deal with people making fun of him for liking someone. Besides, he has no idea if you like him back as well. There’s no reason for him to risk losing you and losing his reputation, which is why he doesn’t consciously act upon his feelings. He’s just trying to play it safe. He isn’t a risk-taker type, I’m sure.

Subconsciously, he wants to be around you though. But that thought makes him do the opposite. If you’re in the classroom, he’s probably elsewhere. If you sit beside each other, he’s probably always trying to avoid looking at you. If there’s pair work and everyone gets to choose their partners, he'll immediately go to Yamaguchi.

But if there is an inevitable circumstance that he has to talk with you, he’d try to play it cool by speaking seriously or insert sarcastic remarks. Sometimes, he can’t help but tease you though, and this causes a sudden anxiety to rise inside him. Shit, what if he offended you? It’s difficult for him to hide his feelings while also not turning to his subconscious mechanism of making fun of others. I personally think that it’s his form of affirming that “hey, we’re not friends, but I don’t really hate you”.

Overall, he’s not good at dealing with his feelings. He sometimes thinks about it so much to the point where he’ll withdraw himself further from you. But I know, eventually, he’ll come to the realization that he’s being counterproductive. He just needs something to snap him into place.

KOZUME KENMA

He’s not the type to deny his feelings, but he won’t act on it either. But sometimes, when you’re around, he just can’t help but shy away. Although, that’s fine because he’s typically like that with people he’s not close to, so it wouldn’t be that obvious that he likes you.

When you’re around, he’s silent. I mean, he doesn’t exactly know what to do with these feelings that he has. Should he take the initiative in order to start something between the two of you? But that’s tiring. Should he not do something, then? But it’ll make him irritated. So, at the end of the day, he’ll dismiss the feelings as something troublesome and irrelevant that he’ll force himself to stop thinking about it.

Honestly, if he really liked you, he’d probably be up to doing what you really like to do (as long as it isn’t something that’ll cause him to feel very anxious or tired, like skydiving or running a marathon). He’d probably set his console down and read a book with you if you want to, even if he doesn’t like it. He’d probably try to sneak his console between the book to make it look like he’s reading though. But hey, it’s the thought that counts.

If there’s an inevitable circumstance that you have to speak with each other. He’d most likely want you to take the lead in the conversation. Whatever it is that you’re talking about, he’s happy to listen to it, but he’s also relieved that he’s not the one doing most of the talking. Eventually, as you guys talk more frequently, he’d be comfortable with sharing some insights and stories as well.

When Kuroo finds out about his friend's feelings for you, he’d neither deny or confirm it. Kenma would probably send his friend an annoyed expression though, and that’s enough confirmation.

Overall, he’s not good with acting on his feelings but he’s not exactly bad at it either. He’s just probably scared of embarrassment in case you don’t like him. He cares about what other people think of him to an extent, and he doesn’t like being scrutinized for any reason.

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© flowerstardrops — do not commit any acts of plagiarism. i do not condone anyone stealing or copying my works, and especially posting these on another platform.