#i just hate this so much and i’m so tired and i just want some fucking help

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XXX)

Chapter 30: ‘You liked me well enough in black; I make you a gift of these objects’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! Some shopping for our lovebirds that turns into Andrew fighting for his life…

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3322

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Here are my black clothes

I think now it is better to love no one than to love you. Here are my black clothes, the tired nightgowns and robes fraying in many places. Why should they hand useless as though I were going naked? You liked me well enough in black; I make you a gift of these objects. You will want to touch them with your mouth, run your fingers through the thin tender underthings and I will not need them in my new life.

Louise Glück, The First Five Book of Poems

The tailor was posh but undoubtedly talented. Then again, it was a tailor, posh was to be expected.

It was the old type of tailor, the one you saw in movies, the type that hid a secret passage to the secret service. Wooden walls covered with wooden shelves and clothes, wooden tiles on the floor, large corduroy armchairs. You walked in feeling like you didn’t belong there, like you should never have come in the first place.

Frank spotted you instantly when you walked in. You hadn’t seen each other in a few weeks, there were times when you missed him. There were times when you didn’t think of him at all… what a strange feeling… he was always in your thoughts for years…

You wished Andrew was there with you. You wondered if his classes were going well this morning, you wanted to make him a coffee and chat instead of working…

“Y/N!” Frank beamed at you, crossing the room to give you a hug. “I’ve missed you! We’ve spent too long apart!”

“Missed you too. You look well! Are you ready to choose your suit?”

“I’m so nervous,” he admitted with an uncomfortable laugh.

“It’ll be just fine.”

You said hello to Frank’s friends and family members gathered in the shop. Only a few people, including the three best men.

The tailor came in a few minutes later, started taking care of his clients. You remained quiet while the group was splitting its attention between Frank’s suit and his best men’ clothes.

The plan was simple. You had to give him terrible advice. You had to ruin the suit, make him look ridiculous. Something that Sam would hate.

That was the only way to weaken the wedding with today’s activity.

You waited patiently, watched Frank try suits on. Every piece of garment shattered your heart.

You should have been the one discovering the suit on your wedding day. You should have been the one he talked about now, asking if you would like that colour on him, hoping you would find him handsome.

He was. He was handsome. So fucking much. You wanted to shout, to claw your eyes out of their sockets with the pain of it. He was so handsome, and you should have never been here. Instead of seeing him try on all these suits, you should have been the bride hiding her dress from him. But you weren’t. You were just the friend he was turning his attention to now, asking for an advice.

And you couldn’t do it. Couldn’t ruin this for him. You were too kind-hearted for that, or perhaps, you were simply too much in pain.

You struggled to put a smile on your face.

“I think navy blue is better than green on you.”

“You think?” he asked, looking at the two shades.

“It matches your eyes better. Makes them pop.”

He smiled, bright and excited.

Had he ever smiled like this thinking of your wedding? Of marrying you?

“Thank you, Y/N. You’re always right with those things.”

“Because I pay attention.”

Your answer held more meaning than it seemed, but he didn’t notice. He never did. Not when it was you.

And you wanted revenge now. You wanted him to regret you. You wanted him to see that you were enough, that you were always enough, that Sam wasn’t better than you… even if you didn’t really believe it. Frank had chosen Sam. Andrew had been in love with her, and now that he was starting to move on, it was to be with a woman who wasn’t you.

You excused yourself, looked for the bathroom. The moment you turned the lock on your door, the tears were let free.

You looked so sad when you came back.

It was almost noon when you stepped in the office, Andrew had been waiting for you to eat his lunch. He didn’t have classes for the rest of the day, and neither did you. He was relieved about it, you clearly needed some help.

“How did it go?” he asked as you closed the door behind you.

You didn’t answer at first, instead you took the time to take off your coat, let yourself fall in your office chair and throw your head back towards the ceiling. You let out a dramatic moan, Andrew chuckled at the sound.

“That bad, huh? Did you make him choose something terrible to wear?”

You didn’t answer.

“Let me guess… you saw him in there, it broke your heart, but you didn’t lie and helped him look stunning for his wedding day.”

“How do you know? That’s exactly what happened.”

“I know you. You’re too kind to do something so mean and selfish. Hiding a few bottles of champagne is one thing, making your ex look like a fool on the most important day of his life is another.”

“I’m so pathetic. I feel so… pathetic…”

“You’re not. You’re just heartbroken.”

“Same bloody thing.”

“What can I do?”

You looked at him then, tears in your eyes and looking so sad… so damn sad…

But then you looked angry instead, wrath burning through your gaze and Andrew shuddered at the sight.

You looked gorgeous like this, despite your eyes reddened with tears. Fierce was a good look on you, it had always been…

“I’m going to make him regret me so fucking much he’ll beg to get me back.”

He raised an eyebrow, surprised by your determination.

“And how do we do that?”

“By making me look so fucking good he’ll have nightmares about leaving me.”

Andrew’s heart skipped a beat. His words came out in a whisper you didn’t hear.

“You’re always gorgeous, Y/N…”

“We’re going to this party they’re throwing two weeks before the wedding. So… in…”

“Two weeks.”

“Yeah… in two weeks. God, I can’t believe it’s the end of April already. Exams will be back in no time.”

“Don’t mention that…” Andrew winced. “Besides, we’ll have to go through the conference first…”

“Did you have an answer for that by the way?”

Andrew smiled.

“Main speaker on the second day. Forty-minutes presentation.”

“That’s awesome, Andy! Congrats!”

“I’m going to hate every second of it.”

“You’ll be brilliant.”

“We’ll need to rehearse your presentation too.”

“Yes, thank you for helping me.”

“Don’t mention it. We’re a team.”

You exchanged a tender smile, one that reached gratefulness for more than professional support.

“Anyway, I’m going to go shopping after work,” you declared. “I’ll buy the most gorgeous dress for that party. And Frank will be at my fucking feet.”

Andrew chuckled at that.

“Alright, good plan.”

“Actually… can I be insufferable and ask for your help?”

“Pardon me? My help? I don’t know anything about dresses…”

“You’re a man. You know what men like. Actually, you know what? We could go now. Be back before two and work this afternoon.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

“Okay…”

Andrew gathered his things in a hurry, let you babble away while you exited the office. He didn’t mention the way your voice was shaking from time to time, how your eyes still glistened with withheld tears.

He didn’t mention any of it. He merely drove you to the shop you liked.

Andrew didn’t know what to do while you browsed through expensive dresses, selected a few, asked for his opinion. He didn’t really have any. He had no idea what he was supposed to do to make you smile again, to make you happy, to make you feel as beautiful as you truly were…

You walked in a fitting room with five different dresses to try on. There weren’t many people in the shop at this hour, only an old woman with her grand-daughter were looking for a dress for the young woman. The elder lady started chatting casually with Andrew while they both waited in front of the cabins.

“Your girlfriend is looking for a dress for a special occasion?” she asked, and Andrew fiercely blushed.

“Oh… no, she’s not… we’re not… She’s not my girlfriend.”

She gave him a look, one that annoyed him a lot.

“Right… I see…”

Andrew ignored her, her grand-daughter showing her a dress the perfect excuse not to answer.

And then he heard you calling his name in a quiet voice…

His heart didn’t just skip a few beats, it stopped altogether. Butterflies didn’t cut it, these were fireworks in his stomach.

You were standing there in an emerald dress that fell across your calves, a low cut on your cleavage that made his wildest fantasies about you seem mild.

“What do you think? I like this one.”

You turned around to show him the back, or rather, the absence of clothing on the backless dress.

Andrew couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think…

You were so… so…

“How do I look?”

You were so… so…

“…Breathtaking.”

You blinked up at him. And he tried to hide his reaction, but he couldn’t. He must have looked stunned, a deer in headlights, and he couldn’t help it. You were so…

“…Perfect.”

You raised a surprised eyebrow, a shy smile forming on your lips.

He wanted to kiss you so badly. He wanted to touch the skin of your back the dress revealed. He wanted to run his fingers along your cleavage. He wanted to tear that gorgeous dress off you…

He cleared his throat, averted his eyes so he would stop staring at you.

“Yeah… that’s… a good one.”

“I have another I like, hang on.”

He nodded, unable to look at you. He could feel warmth spreading through his body, but he would never survive the humiliation of getting a boner in the middle of a shop because you were trying dresses on…

“Not your girlfriend, huh?”

Andrew turned to the stranger, the old woman giving him a knowing smile.

“You’d better make her your girlfriend, before it’s too late.”

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

“No, of course not.”

She heaved a sigh, looking at the closed curtain of the fitting room where her grand-daughter had disappeared.

“My husband looked at me like that, you know? The way you look at her. And I can only hope my grand-child will find someone who will look at her like that, too.”

“Like what?”

“Like she is the most beautiful thing on this earth.”

She stared right into his eyes.

“The way you must be looked at when you are loved.”

Andrew struggled to swallow, looked away, fiercely blushing.

Christ, he was a desperate case. And if a stranger could notice his feelings for you, surely everyone had… what would you say if you noticed? Would you push him away? Would you break his heart?

You walked out of your cabin again, wearing a black dress this time. And Andrew tried to hide it better this time, but you looked divine. It fitted your curves perfectly, it made your body look like sin…

“What about this one?” you asked, turning around, and Andrew hated himself for being unable to stop himself from staring at your arse.

“Yeah… that’s a good one too,” he nodded, clearing his throat.

“Which one do you prefer?”

“I… I don’t know…”

“Come on! I like both. I don’t know which one to pick. What’s your favourite?”

He struggled to control his breathing, to slow down his heart.

“I… erm… I really liked the green one.”

“The green one?”

“Yeah, it… you’re gorgeous in this dress too though.”

He heard you clearing your throat too.

“Right… the green dress it is, then.”

“Yeah… okay… grand… erm, like… good…”

“Thanks, Andy.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Christ, please, don’t mention it…

“I’ll get changed real quick.”

He hummed as he nodded, still unable to look at you.

By his side, the elderly lady chuckled, and Andrew wanted to dissolve into nothing, a puddle on the ground, to simply be atomised into thin air…

You bought the dress, Andrew drove you back to Trinity in relative silence. He was too busy picturing you in these dresses again, too busy trying not to picture you in these dresses again.

When you walked back to your office though, it was obvious that you were still sad. That search for a semblance of power over a situation you couldn’t control was gone again. He let out a long exhale through his nose as he looked at you sitting behind your desk. He crossed the room, avoiding the lamp hanging from the ceiling, and gave you a soft smile.

“You’re alright, Y/N?”

You shook your head.

“I’m sorry… I just… I can’t get over it.”

“It’s okay. You’re upset, that’s all.”

“Seeing him like this… wearing these suits… he should have been wearing them for me…”

“I know. I know, Y/N.”

“I want my life back.”

“But you have one. You have one now. You don’t need him in it.”

“I feel like I need him. I feel like I… like I just messed everything up.”

“You didn’t. You didn’t mess anything up. None of this is your fault.”

“If he chose her, then I must be lacking something…”

“You’re not. Trust me, you’re not lacking anything. It’s his loss if he can’t see what’s right in front of him.”

You looked up at him, surprised by the sudden harshness of his tone.

“You don’t need him, Y/N… you… you could have better than him. You… he’s not… He’s not even paying attention to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t really care. I think he’s a little too selfish for that.”

He shook his head.

“I see you with him, you know? You’re not yourself. You’re not… babbling away about cinema, or literature, or art or this recipe you’ve just tried or… it’s like you just shut down. And you listen, and then you make a tiny summary of all the things you wanted to say… but you’re so fucking smart. You’re so fucking interesting. You’re… you shouldn’t be with someone who doesn’t care about what you have to say. And he fucking broke your heart! Why do you still want him? Why…?”

Why do you still want him, instead of me?

But he didn’t say it. He stopped, and closed his fists tightly.

Andrew was growing annoyed, angry even. And of course you noticed, he reckoned he was doing a pretty bad job at hiding his true feelings.

“Y/N… Frank… I’m not saying he’s a bad person, but…”

“But?”

“But he doesn’t deserve you.”

You raised an eyebrow, visibly unimpressed.

“Really? Why not? It’s not like I’m anything special, anyway.”

Andrew frowned hard.

“Are you listening to yourself?!” he asked with something aghast in his voice, a genuine incomprehension that surprised you. “You’re… you’re amazing. You deserve so much better than him! You deserve to be treated with respect, to have someone who actually pays attention to you, who cares about you, who listens to you when you’re talking about your passions, who’s not going to disregard what you’re saying simply because they disagree…”

But you interrupted him with a scoff.

“Perfection doesn’t exist, Andy. I’ve learned as much in life. I don’t have a choice but to settle for less than that.”

“There’s a difference between accepting someone’s faults and flaws and setting the bar so low it’s actually buried underground…”

“You’re one to talk! You’re still in love with Samantha despite how she hurt you, despite the fact that she doesn’t give two shites about your poetry or your work, about the fact that she won’t make a single fucking effort for you…”

“Who says I’m still in love with her?”

You raised a surprised eyebrow, and you were genuinely taken aback this time, Andrew could tell.

“You’re not?” you asked, your tone quieter, Andrew guessed that it was a side-effect of your surprise.

“No, I’m not. I’ve learnt my lesson. I want to move on. I… I’m moving on.”

“Wow… that’s… good… That’s really grand, Andy. Is it… because of that woman you mentioned?”

Andrew’s heart sped up, he could feel himself panicking, he closed and opened his fists multiple times in an attempt to slow down his breathing.

“I… I mean… kind of…”

“Kind of?”

“I…”

He took a deep breath, gathering his courage.

“I want to be with her. I… I just… I haven’t told her yet.”

“Why not? You should ask her on a date.”

But he shook his head.

“She won’t say yes. I know her, she won’t go on a date with me, not for now. Besides… It’s too soon… for me too, I mean. I need to put Sam behind me for good, before I can try to be with her.”

You stared at him with a blank expression… or rather, not blank. The opposite. Like you felt something but tried to show the opposite reaction. The result was unreadable to him.

“I’m glad you’re moving on.”

But your tone was flat, and you didn’t seem happy at all.

“Thanks,” Andrew answered anyway.

You heaved a tired sigh.

“Please, don’t judge me with Frank. I… you don’t understand.”

Andrew sighed too, let the air out through gritted teeth.

“No, you’re right. I don’t understand. I mean… I do. I do understand the process of grieving for a life that wasn’t fully yours to begin with, but you thought would belong to you. But that’s the thing, Y/N. You need to start grieving now. You can’t remain stuck there forever. You… You deserve to be happy. You deserve better than that. Don’t do that to yourself. Especially not for someone like him. We deserve better than this, Y/N.”

You stared at him now, tears in your eyes, a sight he wished he could banish forever. He would take all of your pain away if he could, he would suffer it in your stead.

“It’s not that easy, Andy,” you shook your head, taking a step back.

“It could be. It could be, Y/N…”

“I’ve loved him for so long…”

Andrew slowly nodded.

“You could love again, with a little bit of time. He… he doesn’t care about you, Y/N. He doesn’t… listen when you talk. He acts like he does, but he doesn’t. He’s not interested in what makes you happy…”

“Neither is Sam with you.”

“I know. I know, and I don’t want that anymore.”

“But I want Frank.”

Your voice was shaking, it didn’t sound either earnest nor convincing. Still, hearing the words broke Andrew’s heart.

After everything… how could you still want Frank… why couldn’t you want him instead?

Could you… could you ever want him?

Andrew closed his fists tightly, until he could feel the sharp pain of his nails digging crescent marks into his palm. Perhaps you would never want him. Maybe it wasn’t just about Frank, maybe it was about him… maybe he was simply… not your type, not attractive to you, not good enough.

He let out a long, painful exhale through his nose.

“Would that make you happy?” he genuinely asked, voice quiet, deeper than usual, but softer than before as well. “Is that what will make you happy?”

You stared at him for a moment, then clenched your jaw. When you answered, he couldn’t read in your eyes whether or not you were telling the truth. Maybe you were lying… against all odds, he hoped you were lying.

“Yes.”

One word, breathed out, it was enough to break his heart.

Slowly, Andrew nodded.

“Alright, we’ll do it then. We’ll go to that stupid party. We’ll make him jealous. We’ll make him see what he’s losing by choosing Sam over you. If it’s what it takes for you to be happy… As long as it makes you happy.”

“Thank you.”

He stared at you as you walked back to your desk, sat before your computer, looked at the screen.

He turned around, blinking tears away, stood in front of the window behind his desk.

As long as it would make you happy…

[winchesterwild78]

An Unexpected Friendship pt 7

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, Jensen’s children

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Language, mention of death, Mention of panic attacks, some angst, SMUT! 

A/N: This is a short story written in collaboration with @cheekygirl2309.

This chapter has Jensen realizing how much he messed up and working on fixing what he broke, with a little help from a sweet little girl. 😀

No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. Written and edited fast-please overlook any errors. 

Minors DNI 18+

The next few days in the house were strained. The kids went to school and I stayed to myself for most of the day. Terri and the other nurse, Angela would alternate coming in and taking care of Jensen. His physical therapy was starting today, so Angela was waiting on the physical therapist downstairs with me.

“Hey, Y/N, how are you doing? This can’t be easy on you.” I looked up from the book I was reading, “I’m okay. My main focus is Jensen getting better. Then we can move on. His kids need him back to his old self.” “You and your little girl do too.” She offered a smile. I just nodded.

The pain in my heart had only grown since that day. Jensen and I hadn’t spoken since. I would wait until Terri or Angela was in the room with him before I’d go in and grab what I needed. I couldn’t look at him. Just hearing his voice broke me. 

Jared and Gen had come by to check on us and offer advice. They knew the gap between Jensen and I was only getting wider. Jared being the mediator he is, tried his best to help repair Jensen and I. 

“Jared, I appreciate everything you’re trying to do. I really do, but Jensen made it clear he blames me for the accident, and he doesn’t want me here. We haven’t slept in the same room since that day. I just have to figure out what to do. Jazzy loves him so much, and I love the kids. I can’t break her heart or theirs’, but I can’t continue to live with someone who is angry with me.” 

Jared pulled me into a big hug, “I’m so sorry, Y/N. You know you and Jazzy are welcome to stay with us if you need to. We know how you feel about going back home.” “I appreciate it, Jared, but I can’t drive a wedge between you and your brother. I love you guys too much to do that.”

As Jared and I talked, Gen went upstairs to check on Jensen. Angela was helping him sit back down when she walked in. 

“Hey Gen. It’s good to see you. Is Jared here too?” Jensen smiled. “Yes he is, but don’t use that smile on me Jensen Ross!” Jensen’s eyes went wide, “Whoa what did I do?” Angela excused herself to give Gen and Jensen some space. “You broke her fucking heart is what you did, Jensen. She’s lonely and so heart broken. She truly believes you blame her for the accident.” 

“Gen, I never said that to her. I don’t blame her.” “You might not have said it, but your actions speak louder than any words. Have you even tried to talk to her?” Jensen just shook his head no. 

“Dammit Jensen, you’re going to lose her and that beautiful little girl.” Jensen’s breath hitched. He knew Gen was telling the truth, but he wasn’t sure how to fix this or if you’d want to fix it.

The conversation with Gen and Jared was two days ago. Jensen had tried to reach out to you through text since you wouldn’t come near the room. He didn’t want to get the kids involved, so he figured he’d text you.

Jensen: Hey sweetheart. Can we talk?

Me: I’m not sure what there is to talk about.

Jensen: Us? How much of an asshole I am. How you have every right to walk away from me, and hate me.

Me: I don’t hate you, Jensen.

Jensen: Well, that’s a start. Can you come to our bedroom so we can talk?

Me: I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m really tired. Maybe we can talk tomorrow.

Jensen: Oh, okay. I’d like that. I love you, Y/N.

Me: Good night, Jensen.

I put my phone down and sobbed. I wanted to run into the room and hold him. Kiss his lips and tell him how much I loved him. I knew he was hurting, but so was I. I was scared of never holding him again, never feeling his love again. 

I sobbed into my pillow. Sleeping down the hall from him was so hard. I craved his touch, I wanted to feel safe enough to sleep, but I couldn’t. Then I heard a soft knock on my door. I wiped my face, sat up and said “come in.” It was Jazzy. 

“Hey baby girl, are you okay?” I asked, trying to hide the tears. “I’m sad mommy.” I pulled her into my lap, “Why are you sad baby?” “Because you’re sad, and Daddy Jensen got hurt.” “Oh sweetie, I’m okay, and Jensen will be okay too. He’s doing great with his healing and he’s starting to walk around more.” “But mommy, you’re not in there with him. You’re in here and you’re so sad. Sad like when daddy died.” 

My breath caught in my throat. I didn’t know she knew I was so sad, I’d only cry at night after I was sure they were asleep. “Oh baby, I’ll be okay. I’m just sad Jensen got hurt and is upset about it. Everything is going to be okay baby.” I kissed her head and smiled, trying to fight the pain away. I carried her back to her bed, gave her Braveheart and kissed her head again.

I went back to the guest room and crawled in the bed. Covering my head with the blanket and burying my face deep in the pillow, I let out a scream and then I just broke. 

Jensen laid in bed, flipping through the photo album I had made for him. He missed me so much, my lips, my hands, my body. He knew he fucked up and it was going to take more than a text to fix this. 

As he put the album away, he heard a soft knock on his door. His heart leaped in his chest. “Come in.” He said softly, but loud enough to be heard. The door slowly opened. Thinking he was about to see me, he was a little taken back when he saw Jazzy. 

“Hey baby girl, are you okay? Mommy isn't here.” She climbed on the bed beside Jensen and snuggled next to him, “I know daddy, she’s in the other room, crying like when my other daddy died. She’s really sad. I hear her cry every night. Are you going to die too?” 

Jensen’s heart broke, hearing that you cried every night, “No baby girl I’m not. I’m okay. Mommy is just sad because I’m hurt and she can’t help me. I promise you I’ll make Mommy’s heart better.” “Okay daddy, I love you. I’m going back to bed now.” “I love you too sweetheart, and thank you for letting me know about mommy.” She nodded and left the room. 

Jensen was determined to get to me. He grabbed his crutches and headed towards the guest room. He lightly knocked on the door waiting for me to answer. I couldn’t hear the door through the blanket, pillow and the sobs. 

He opened the door and saw me, head covered and buried in the pillow, he could hear my sobs. Tears fell from his eyes. It broke him to see me so broken, knowing he caused it. He walked to the side of the bed and sat down, lightly touching my back. 

I shot up and looked at him. “Jensen, what are you doing here?” I wiped my face, trying to hide the fact that I had been crying. He lifted my chin with his hand, “Baby, I’m so sorry. I don’t blame you for anything. I fucked up. I took it out on one of the most important people to me, and now I’ve lost you.”

I looked at Jensen, I could see the regret and sadness in his eyes. “Jensen, you haven’t lost me, but you have to talk to me. We won’t make it if you don’t open up to me and talk to me. Why did you take it out on me? If you don’t blame me, then what was it?”

Jensen took a deep breath, “The day I got hurt I had been so distracted. All I wanted to do was be home with you and the kids. When Dee and I first started dating, we acted in the same town and didn’t have children, so being apart wasn’t an issue. After JJ was born it started to get harder, but we made it work. When you and Jazzy came into our lives, I never wanted to leave your side. Especially after everything you two had been through.”

“After I talked to you and you told me about Jazzy I got in my head. Thinking about how lonely she must be feeling and how she’d already lost one daddy and I was sure she was feeling like I left her too. I hated myself for making her feel that way.” I touched Jensen’s arm, “Jensen, she’s okay. I promise.” 

“What about her mommy?” His green eyes, full of regret, looked deeply into mine. “I’m getting there.” My breath hitched, it was hard to look him in his eyes. I swallowed hard, being this close to him I could feel his body heat. My heart rate picked up. Then his hand brushed against my cheek. I leaned into his touch. It had been too long since I felt him. 

Instinctively I leaned closer to him. I could feel his hot breath mixing with mine. “Jensen..” “Y/N..” My lips crashed against his in a kiss that was full of need, regret and love. Oh so much love. His hands tangled into my hair as we deepened the kiss. The pain, sorrow and anger from the past few days was slowly starting to melt away. 

When we finally pulled away from each other, our chests were rising and falling quickly taking in air. “I am so sorry, sweetheart. I never should have taken anything out on you. You and the kids are everything to me. I’d be lost without you five. Please baby, don’t leave me, don’t leave us.” 

“Jensen, you can’t do that to me. You can’t push me away when things get bad. You have to talk to me, if we’re going to make it, we have to deal with things together.” 

“I promise baby, I will never push you away again. I love you sweetheart, so much. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you’ll still have me.” 

I placed my hand on his chest, “Jensen, I love you so much. These past few days have been horrible without you. I hated this distance between us.” He placed his hand on mine, “Then let’s go to our room and go to bed baby.”

I nodded as I helped Jensen stand and we walked back to our room. Once in the room, Jensen closed the door and I helped him back to the bed. He set his crutches to the side, and I slid in the bed. 

Jensen offered me his arm, and I scooted towards him, laying my head on his chest. He kissed the top of my head. “God I love you so much. I can’t believe I almost lost you. I’m so fucking foolish.” 

“Jensen, what really  happened on set? I know you well enough to know what we talked about before didn’t distract you that much.” Jensen sighed, “Well the scene I was shooting involved me saving a little girl about Jazzy’s age. Homelander was using her as bait to get to her parents. He killed her father and the little girl was crying out for her daddy. I had to rescue her, and when I started to grab her all I could think about was Jazzy and how I wanted to protect her and you from Robert. I started to have a panic attack and felt dizzy, lost my balance and fell. I was so embarrassed.” 

“Jensen, having a panic attack isn’t something to be embarrassed about. I’m sorry that scene triggered you and caused you so much pain. We are safe, Jensen. Safe because we have you. I hope you know that little girl in the other room sees you as her daddy. She feels safe with you, with your children. I see you as my partner, my love, my forever, my home. I love you so much Jensen, nothing will ever change that. You saved us not only from Robert, but from our empty life.”

Tears pricked Jensen’s eyes, and he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on my lips. “I see you as my love, my forever, my home too. I see Jazzy as my daughter, you both fit perfectly here with us. I know the road that led us together was paved with heartache and loss, but I am so glad I have both of you.” 

I let out a deep sigh. “Baby, what’s wrong?” Jensen asked softly as he held me tight. “I was so scared seeing you in that hospital. It brought back all those buried feelings from when I lost Joshua. I was so scared I was going to lose you too. Then I’d have to go home and tell our babies you weren’t coming home. I didn’t know how I was going to survive that.” 

Jensen kissed me and pulled me tightly. “I’m okay, baby. I promise you won’t have to have that conversation with them.” 

I smiled and relaxed against him. “Oh, Y/N, can we get rid of the nurses now? They are great, but do I really need a nurse when I have you?” “Maybe. You don’t like it when Terri or Angela give you a bath?” I giggled. “You know what, no.” He laughed. “The only woman I want to see all of this is you, my love.” 

“Okay, I’ll call the agency tomorrow. Besides with you doing physical therapy you should be back moving around by yourself soon. I think we can tell them goodbye if you’re sure.” 

“Oh yes, I’m positive.” He kissed me again. “Hey sweetheart, do you think tomorrow you can help me take a shower?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I’d love to, now let’s go to sleep.” 

“Good night sweetheart, I love you.” “Good night, Jens. I love you too.” We kissed again and then I fell into a peaceful sleep, wrapped in his arms. 

The next morning when I woke up I woke up with Jensen’s strong arms still wrapped around me. I snuggled closer to him and nudged him awake. “Jens, I need to get up and get the kids ready for school.” “Just five more minutes, please.” He said in a gruff voice, pulling me closer to him. 

About an hour later I was heading out the door with the kids to get them to school. Jensen was up and doing his physical therapy. He had a doctor’s appointment later in the afternoon, so he wanted to shower and be ready. 

When I got back home his physical therapist was getting ready to leave. I stopped him to check on Jensen’s progress. He told me Jensen was doing really well and he thought Jensen would be released back to work in another week or two. He just wouldn’t be able to do any stunts for another few months. 

Walking into our shared room I saw Jensen sitting on the bed without his shirt on. I bit my lip. God he was a gorgeous man, even covered in sweat from his workout. “You ready for your shower, baby?’

“More than ready.” He smiled. I put the plastic over his cast and started the water for him. He had a towel wrapped around his hips that left nothing to the imagination. My thighs clenched together. 

Seeing Jensen practically naked had my body reacting in ways that even made me blush. 

Jensen smirked, “Like what you see, darlin’?” 

I bit my lip, “God yes.” I let out a breath. Jensen pulled me closer and kissed me deeply. Biting my lower lip as he pulled back. 

I set up the shower seat for him. I knew it was easier for him to navigate the shower sitting down. I helped him in and handed him the showerhead. His bottom lip poked out in a pout. I chuckled, “What’s wrong?” “I thought you were going to help me.” “Jens, in order for me to help you I have to get in the shower, and I have my clothes on.” Jensen smirked, “So take them off.” 

I could see his length growing and my desire building. I slowly started to remove my clothes. My heart beating wildly in my chest. 

With my clothes off I climbed in the shower with Jensen. His eyes scanned my body and I blushed. “God you’re gorgeous, baby. Come ‘ere.” He pulled me close to him and I stood between his legs. His length was rock hard as it pressed against my thigh.

Jensen pulled my lips to his and kissed me. His hand snaked up my thighs and fingers went in between my folds. He smirked against my lips feeling how wet I was. I gasped as his fingers slid inside me, setting a rhythmic pace as he hooked his fingers up. 

My hips are moving in tandem with him. My hands rested on his shoulders as I began to give into the pleasure that was moving through my body. It had been so long since he touched me and I was embarrassed I was already close. 

I bit my lip to stifle the moan, “Jens, oh fuck, I’m close.” His fingers hooked up and he started rubbing my clit, “Let go for me baby.” His lips attached to my nipples, and he sucked hard. I screamed in pleasure. “Oh fuck, Jensen! I’m cumming.” My head fell backwards as his hands continued to work their magic. 

My legs began to shake and I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. “Jensen, I need you.” I breathed out. Jensen pumped his length a few times and I straddled him, taking every inch inside. I placed my hands on his shoulders to help steady myself. As Jensen adjusted and pushed further inside we both moaned. 

“God, you feel so good baby.” Jensen’s head laid in the crook of my neck. I began to move my hips and grind down on him. “Yes, baby! Keep doing that.” He kissed my lips in a deep, passionate kiss. 

I felt I needed more leverage so I got up, pulling a groan from him, then I sat with my back against his chest. I took his length in hand and guided him in. My legs placed firmly on the ground in between his. I used his thighs to steady my hands as I continued to bounce up and down. Each bounce pulled Jensen closer to his release. 

“Fuck! That feels so good, Y/N. Don’t stop, oh fuck! I’m gonna cum.” Jensen grabbed my hips and with a grunt I felt his load shooting inside me. His body trembling under mine as he filled me up. 

When he was done I stood up, cleaned myself and him up, and turned off the water. Jensen stood with my help, wrapped his arms around me and kissed me deeply. “That was amazing, baby. It’s been far too long.” I kissed his lips, “Yes it was, and yes it has been.” 

“Best shower sex I’ve ever had.” Jensen chuckled. “I’m glad, it definitely was for me too.” 

After we got dressed, Jensen pulled me in for a kiss. “I love you, Y/N. Thank you for not giving up on me, on us.” I lightly touched his chest, “Jensen, I will always fight for you, for us. I love you too.”

We left our shared room together, heading downstairs to leave for Jensen’s appointment. No matter what the doctor said today, I know we both will tackle it together. 

Tags are open, if you want to be added or removed, let me know.  

Tags: 

@nescaveckwriter @kr804573 

@k-slla @jackles010378 

@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx 

@roseblue373 @cheynovak 

@jassackles  @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa 

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 

@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27 

@manicjk @stoneyggirl2 

@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi 

@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87

@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld

@nancymcl @baby19sthings

@cheekygirl2309 @oceean

@kindollss @foxyjwls007

@lmg14 @cevansbaby-dove

@spxideyver @reignsboy19

@deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy

@ladykitana90 @quietgirll75 

@superrey @kamisobsessed

@obliviousap @ninii-winchester

@mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @whimsyfinny

@bobbdylan @star-yawnznn

@reignsboy19 @monkey-d-hoshizora98

@depressionbarbie2023 @livingdeadblondequeen

@mandee7

[nandolonso]

Title: Nights like this (Kimi Räikkönen x Reader)

Warnings: Kimi catches you dancing, mostly fluff, a little bit of stress, and sweet-sweet Kimi.

I want a man like this. When will God hear me out?! T_T

Word count: around 1500

English is not my main language, so I’m sorry for any mistakes. I'm also sorry for the picture and the blurred wife, but I wanted to set the mood. PLEASEFORGIVEME.

//

“Y/N,” Kimi called out your name. His voice broke the silence three times in the last 30 seconds. But nothing. No answer. Not even a little sound. Nothing. Weird.

However, you didn’t hear a thing. You were at the bottom of your shared house, inside the study with headphones on. Although, you could have chosen not to work thanks to Kimi, for some reason you still didn't want to “live that up”. You wanted to bring something to the table, and you wouldn't have been able to sit on your butt all day anyway. So, you worked. A little too much these days. All week. All month. And let’s add plural to the end of those words.

The last period has been particularly difficult for you. You had to work with a lot of clients as an account manager. And sometimes (well mostly), your bosses were assholes. More than once, Kimi almost went to your workplace to finally put them in their place and burn that place to the fuckin’ ground. But you always shut him down for some stupid reason. Even though, they would deserve it. Because all you've wanted to do lately is quit. You were burnt out, you were tired. But at least you had one thing in your life that was worth everything: Kimi.

You couldn't tell how grateful you were for him. Although everyone called him “The Iceman”, you didn't know that side of him at all. Yes, he was honest, straightforward, sometimes grumpy, but never towards you. With you he was always kind, loving and understanding. He hated everyone but you. And he showed it to you. More than anyone else ever had, he showed you what it truly meant to love: genuinely and unconditionally.

Kimi furrowed his eyebrows as he pushed himself away from the kitchen counter – where he had prepared everything for your dinner together – and headed downstairs. He was worried about you as you didn’t reply to him, and he hadn't heard anything from the study for a while now. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but for some reason it gave him an incredible sense of calmness to hear you rattle around even when you were “quiet”. He adored you, in a way that sometimes it scared him.

Meanwhile, before you knew it, you stood up from your working table with your headphones on and started to dance. The beat was infectious to you, closing your eyes, you imagined the whole place was yours. You moved with confidence, spinning, and striding gracefully, bending low and rising up with a flick of your hair, your hips swaying side to side. Completely lost in the tunes, you danced like no one was watching.

But someone was watching, and it was Kimi. He leaned to the doorframe as the scene unfolded in front of his eyes: your carefree and confident side surfacing. His mouth went dry, and he felt rooted to the spot as he watched you. Even in just sweatpants and a sports bra on, he’d never seen you look more beautiful or more captivating. Or sexier… He swallowed hard and tried to ignore the sensation which started to take over his body.

He didn't want to bother you, but he couldn't take his eyes off you. He heard the tunes from your earphones, as it was blasting at full volume. He recognized that “girly music” (as he called it) from TikTok. He suppressed a smile, secretly loving when you watched those stupid videos next to him and laughed like a fuckin’ maniac. He loved your laugh.

Song after song, you put on a full show for your (not-so) imaginary audience. When you finally spun around and opened your eyes, you saw Kimi leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes glinting with amusement.

Even though you’d been together a long time, a blush crept up your cheeks. You quickly yanked down your headphones, only making the music blare even louder.

“How long have you been standing there?” you asked, but Kimi didn’t answer right away. Your breath caught as his gaze held yours, those icy blue eyes now smoldering with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Long enough,” he replied in that typical Kimi tone of his, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. You switched off your Bluetooth headphones, and the music started playing now from your phone speakers. A daring idea came to your mind.

“Dance with me,” you breathed out, extending a hand towards him.

“You know I’m not a good dancer,” he replied, his voice teasing. Lies. You both knew it; he was a much better dancer than he let on. You loved those moments when you’d both get a little tipsy and end up pressed close, unable to keep your hands off each other.

He shook his head a little bit, then sighed. After a few seconds, he pushed away from the doorframe and moved towards you, his gaze meeting yours. Your heart raced as he reached your side, taking your hand and placing his other firmly on the small of your back: his fingers splaying out between your lower back and…

He pulled you close, and you instantly melted into his touch, a soft sigh escaping as you began to sway together to the music. He led you effortlessly… Not a good dancer. Right. What a lie… The way he held you made your skin tingle.

It started right at your lower back, where he touched you. Then, the sensation slowly started to work its way all over your body. From head to toe, like a poison that spreads through your veins. That sweet, hypnotic, deadly toxin that you couldn't get enough of. Because when it came to Kimi, nothing was ever enough. You wanted more. More. To take and possess. And that feeling deep down scared you because no one had ever had that effect on you. It was intoxicating and something you never wanted to let go of. And you won’t because Kimi felt the same way about you.

As you looked up into his eyes, the song Nights Like This began to play, and suddenly, it felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room as the lyrics were written just for this moment.

Hold my hand until we turn to ashes...

Kimi’s gaze softened, his fingers pressing a little more firmly into the small of your back, holding your other hand tenderly with his. The way you looked at each other, the way your breaths mingled, it almost turned your world upside down. No matter how long you've known each other, that feeling never changed.

Love me 'til they put me in my casket...

Your heart skipped, feeling a rush of something deep and unspoken passing between the two of you.

I got all these feelings that I'm maskin’...

You wondered if he felt it, too: that quiet ache, the vulnerability the words held.

You let out a soft breath, barely above a whisper as you were singing the song, “Can I lay it on you? That’s what I’m askin”’.

And without saying a word, Kimi pulled you even closer, as if his answer was already there, steady and clear in his embrace.

You stayed like that with the song all the way through, completely intertwined with each other and swaying softly. When the song ended and another began, you pulled back just enough to look up into his eyes.

“Kimi,” you whispered.

“Kultsi?” he replied, a slight smirk tugging at his lips –barely there, but somehow, always present just for you.

“I love you so much… I hope you know that” you murmured, leaning deeper into his touch, feeling the last of your stress melt away. With him, you felt completely at peace, blissfully content.

“I love you more,” he replied, and leaned down to kiss you with the same impulse. He was more a man of action than talk anyway. He grabbed the back of your neck as he pulled you closer and deepened the kiss. His mouth sweetly explored yours, brushing his tongue against yours.

You pulled him even closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him back as if your life depended on it. Dinner was waiting in the next room, getting colder by the second, but he didn’t care; right now, you were all he wanted. You were the meal he craved. Even starved.

With a swift, effortless movement, he slid his hands under your thighs and lifted you, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, laughing as you pulled him closer.

He looked at you, his eyes alight with something deeper. That laugh...

“I love you,” he murmured again, his voice almost a growl, and carried you over to the worktable. He nearly swept your things to the floor, but you stopped him, quickly moving your laptop and phone aside. After all, you’d need those later…

You let out a soft chuckle as you did so and when you turned back, you could see his eyes darken with something. It made the air stuck in your lungs.

“And I’m going to show you just how much,” he whispered hoarsely and began to slowly undress you…

[scar-lie]

Omega Pt. 17 (Natasha)

Summary : you starting to reconcile?? To Natasha

Pairing : Alpha ! Natasha Romanoff x Omega ! Fem ! Reader

Warning : sad, panic attack, shout, hurt Natasha

Word count : 2,648

Too tired and lazy to write the murder/kidnapping/torture scene eheheh

Cherrylemontober

NO one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.

This is one of those days again where out of nowhere your tears are falling and you are being hormonal again, making you cry just at Natasha’s departure, and again, Wanda always knew that’s why she’s here, sitting with you on your balcony, offering silent comfort while the pups are sleeping peacefully on their bassinets after their 15 minutes of wailing again.

"Hey, are you okay? "Wanda asked when she saw that your tears had dried and you were just looking into the sky, completely lost in your thoughts, so she nudged you, making you get out of your deep thoughts.

“What? ”You look at Wanda with fresh tears running down your checks.

“I lost you for a minute there, you ok?”You sniff and nod at her and give her a smile.

“Yeah…yeah a little. I just really miss her, and I think the pups too.” Wanda nodded, understanding the situation.

I mean, you're just starting to let your guard down again and letting Natasha in; you’re getting comfortable with her and, of course, the pups too, so the sudden absence of Natasha for over a week and a few days takes a toll on you and the pups.

“If it makes you feel better, I made you some cookies.” You smile at her and nod.

“Cookies sound nice,” you mumble and stand up to go downstairs to eat the cookies and some fruits before the pups wake up.

But the sudden opening of the door with force that makes a loud sound when it hits the wall makes you jump out of your skin and ready to protect and run to your pups, but when you see it's Natasha who’s standing in the bedroom door, you sigh in relief that it’s not an intruder.

"Hi,” Natasha pants, putting down the duffel bag she’s carrying on her shoulder and smiling at you.

But you didn’t meet her expectation, you running to her and hugging her—no, but instead—you just stand in your position, looking at her coldly. You don’t know what to say, do, or feel... but you know that you’re angry at her. That’s why you slap her right on the check when you get close to her, making Natasha speechless and shocked.

“Ok...” Natasha mumbled, looking at your teary eyes, that you refused to run down your cheeks.

“I deserve that,” then another slap right after she finishes her sentence, and this is the signal for Wanda to quietly walk out, pups following behind her with her magic, and give you two some space.

“And that,” she looked down at you again with an apologetic look, analyzing your reaction and body language, looking for any since you don’t want her in your room; in your nest.

“I hate you,” you said with gritted teeth, and a tear ran down your right cheek. Natasha swallowed the lump on her throat, cursing herself to ruin her family again, but she wouldn’t change a thing if she went back in time, and she was not sorry for what she did.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha mumbles, not stepping forward to give you space that you might want and need, but instead you're the one who steps forward and starts to punch her chest.

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! "You keep chanting while punching her chest; Natasha just let you get out all your frustrations on her until you are tired; your punches are getting weak until you come to a stop.

Tears are running down your eyes while you look down; your shoulders are shaking because of the sobs you're making. Natasha slowly wrapped her arms around you, giving you time to react if you want to push her away or let her embrace you.

Instead you let her, your hands resting on her chest, leaning forward to have her warm body against you that you missed so much for over the past few days, your hands slowly traveling up to wrap around her neck, crying on her collarbone.

“Sshgh, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Malyshka,” Natasha whispers sweetly in your ear while rubbing your back and the back of your head.

When you didn't move nor stop crying, Natasha felt that all your weight was on her now, so she supported your body, kissed your forehead, and picked you up, closing the door with her foot and bringing you to the bed.

"Hey, hey, hey,” Natasha whispered, putting you on her lap when she sat on the bed, leaning on the headboard, hands gripping her sleeves, afraid she would leave again or maybe you're just hallucinating.

“Hey, Malyshka, look at me,” Natasha cupped your face and made you look at her when you're getting hard to breathe.

"Breath, Malyshka, breathe...” Natasha then gently put your head on her chest, making you listen to her heartbeat and feel her chest rising and falling, indicating for you to follow her.

“Follow my breathing, Malyshka,” she whispers, kissing your head and starting to inhale and exhale.

You nodded and focused your senses on Natasha, how she breathes, smells, feels, and how warm she is. You tried to follow her breathing, but when Natasha noticed it wasn't working, she quickly sang a Russian lullaby that Melina used to sing to her and Yelena.

When you hear her sing, you automatically focus on her voice, distracting you until you finally calm down, sniffling, and your shoulder shoke a little, but the tears finally come to a stop, making you sleepy until you pass out on her arms.

“I’m sorry, Malyshka,” Natasha whispers, laying you down gently, then going behind you and spooning you.

“I love you..so much, Malyshka.” You feel the shift of the bed and Natasha behind you, so you groan a little, turning around and gripping her shirt and nuzzling your face on her neck, under her chin, then you back into deep slumber, making Natasha follow soon.

—

You slowly open your eyes, groaning when you hear a faint crying, blinking your eyes to see more clearly and get yourself together, remembering what happened before you fell asleep.

“Natty? "You sat up; fear was evident in your eyes when you realized and saw that Natasha was no longer lying down beside you or anywhere around the room.

“Natty? "You called out again, getting out of the comfort of your bed, putting your slippers on to go proceed in the bathroom or the walk-in closet.

“Natasha? "Your panic got even worse when you didn't see her anywhere around the room, so you quickly ran out, heart pounding on your chest.

“Do you see Natasha? "You asked Sam when you saw him walking in the corridor, sweaty and out of breath.

“Uhm…no, I just got home from a...” You didn't let him finish you; quickly walk past him.

Going down to the common room just to find no trace of the redhead you've been looking for made you devastated, heartbreaking at the thought of her leaving again.

You're lips quiver, but you stop yourself to cry, so you go back to your room, head down low with a slumped shoulder, trying not to break down. Not at least you're in the comfort of your room, but instead you go to the witch room to see your pups and distract you for a moment.

“Wands? "You knock before you open her door, hearing the soft giggle of your pups, and when you open the door, you see them in the air with Wanda's magic surrounding them and Wanda entertaining them.

“Who's that? I think I heard Mommy calling "Wanda gasp, making them giggle a little louder.

“Hey, Y/N, what's up? "Wanda brought them down, and you sat besides her.

“Nothing, just wanted to be with these little cuties.” You smile at them and tickle them.

“You sure? "You nodded, not meeting the witch's eyes.

“Do you miss Mommy, huh? "You ask in the baby voice, and you make a face that makes them happy; you could feel Wanda’s eyes on you.

"And...” you look at the clock, seeing that it's near their naptime.

“It's nap time.” You give her a smile.

“You sure, you ok? "You hummed and nodded at her.

“Yeah, why wouldn't I be? "With that, you stood up, took the two pups, and came back to get the other.

—

Natasha sigh of relief when she finally got back from different stores. She does not want to leave the bed when she's so comfortable with you in her arms, but she also wants to do something special, simple but special, as a form of apologies and to just spoil you and the pups from now and to the near future.

She looks down at the bags she's holding, and only now she realizes how many she bought, but hey, who's complaining? No one, so she should be good.

“It's for then anyway,” she mumbles to herself while shrugging her shoulders and going to the kitchen to put down everything she bought on the kitchen island.

She started to short out everything she bought: foods, mostly your favorites, and a cheeseburger with onion rings and fries with some nuggets; baby clothes and their shoes; and a flower for you.

“I think I bought too much,” she mumbled, seeing all the things she bought, especially the food.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. Is Y/N awake? "Natasha asks, putting back everything in their bags and proceeding to your bedroom.

“She is Ms. Romanoff.” Natasha smiles and runs up to your room, knocking at your door before she enters with a smile.

But her smile faded when she saw your side profile with tears freely falling and a tired expression while looking down at the three pups, already asleep on the bed.

"Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong? "She quickly put down the bag and rushed to you, but before she could take you in her arms, you looked at her with pain in your eyes.

“STOP! "You put your hand up to make her stop.

“Hey, what's wrong? "She whispers softly that all you want to do is cave in and just feel her warmth again, but you shake your head.

“Stop, please, just don't.” Natasha stopped trying to reach out to her and stare at you; her heart was aching when she saw how hurt and scared you look.

“Please stop; she's not here; she's just my hallucinations.” You keep mumbling to yourself while gripping your hair, tugging the ruts of your hair.

“Hey hey, it's me; I’m real, Dekta, hey hey hey,” Natasha softly whispered, cupping your face and making you look at her.

“It's me, Dekta, I’m real,” you grip her wrist, tears slowly running down your cheeks while analyzing her facial structure.

“Natty? "You whispered, she whispered. Yes, for a moment you want to relish the warmth coming from her hand, but it quickly faded when you remember what happened a week ago.

You shake your head, taking her hand away from you, and quickly slap her across the face, leaving her stunt in her spot, eyes widening and confused.

“Get. Out,” you whisper, trying to suppress your sob and look away from her.

“Y/N-” you push her shoulder, but it takes more than a push and your strength to completely push her off.

“Now! "You growl, glaring at her. Natasha swallows the lump on her throat and nods, looking down.

“I’ll give you some space,” she whispers, and she proceeds to leave the room with a heavy heart. Natasha takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of her nose when the door is already closed.

“You ok? "Natasha looked up and saw Wanda just get out of her room.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. "Wanda takes a moment to take in what was going on, and by the devastated look on Natasha, leaning on your closed door, she takes it that it didn't go well with you two, so she walks forward and taps Natasha's shoulder with a small, soft smile.

“Give her a moment; she's not emotionally stable at the moment.” Natasha taps Wanda's arm as a sign of saying thanks.

With that, Wanda proceeds to go down to meet Vision for their afternoon stroll, and for Natasha, she stays at your door, waiting if you ever come out, which is not long after.

Natasha remains on the other side, not wanting to invade your personal space, but her eyes never leave you.

“I...” You look down with a frown while fidgeting your hand, and you slowly walk toward her.

“Does it hurt? ”Mumble and lean on her front when you come face to face to her and make her arms wrap around your body.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around her waist while you buried your face on her boobs.

“It's not; don't worry.” Natasha tightens her hold on you and kisses your head.

“I’m sorry too, for leaving just like that,” Natasha hesitates to tell you, but when you look up at her with those doe eyes, even if you try to hide it, Natasha clearly sees how upset, sad, and scared you are.

“I couldn't let them on the loose, knowing they could be around, wanting to hurt you again or the pups,” Natasha whispered, not proud of what she actually did; she wouldn't change any of what she did.

“What did you do? "You look up at her and make a small space between you two to actually look in her face.

“I go after them with Yelena... and kill them,” Natasha whispers, looking down at the floor, wanting to hide from you.

“You killed them? ”Your eyes widen, shocked by what you heard. You took a step back to ground yourself.

“I-” you quickly lift her shirt, looking for any sign of bruise, cut, or any damage around her body.

“Are you hurt? ”You asked in a shaky voice, and you quickly took your hands off of her when she winced when you touched her ribs, looking up at her, worried and concerned.

“I might have a broken rib,” she whispers, lifting her shirt more, and there you see a big bruise right below her left boob.

“And a few bruises on my back.” You turn her around and make her lift her shirt at the back, and you gasp when you see 3 big bruises.

“Then what the hell are you doing here? You idiot,” you shove her shoulder when she turns around to face you, but she winces again.

"Sorry,” you whispered and took her hand.

“You should be in the hospital; why didn’t you go there first, huh? ”You scold her for pushing the elevator button.

“I want to—” you’re not taking her excuses and continue scolding her.

“What if you’re bleeding internally? What if you pass out suddenly? Or worse..you—” Natasha took your face on her hands and made you look up at her; she caressed your cheeks and softly smiled at you.

“I’m fine; it's just bruises; I’ve had it worse.” Your lips tremble, and you hit her chest again.

“I hate you; you know that! "You sob when the elevator door closes and Natasha quickly pulls the emergency button to stop the elevator.

“I hate you for leaving; I hate you for being such a hardheaded; I hate you... I hate you! "You wipe your tears with the back of your hand.

“But I love you, and you're hurt,” Natasha's heart flattered, taking you in her arms.

“I’m sorry, I promise. I’ll never leave again. I’ll stay by your side forever, whatever happens. I'm sorry. I’m sorry, my Omega.” She kisses your forehead and pets your head.

“You're going to see Dr. Cho, end of discussion, ok?"You look up at her, and she nodded, pressing the emergency button.

“Whatever makes you feel comfortable and at peace, I’ll do it,” you nodded, hugging her back gently, not wanting to hurt her further.

[balrogballs]

Just thanking you for drawing Elrond as Lúthien-lookalike and not receding hairline Elrond because I’m so tired of people drawing him like the movies

congratulations on sending me this annoying ass message and thus becoming the reason why I will only ever draw Elrond with a receding hairline and steep widow’s peak from this day forwards 👍🏽

i genuinely do not understand why people have spent almost 25 years being so fucking deranged over this specific thing like what is going on in your life that some random actor’s hair loss trajectory is something you devote any brain space to! there was literally a fucking viral reddit post about elrond hairline discourse this year! why do people care so much! the films are nearly 25 years old!

also i’m sorry but literally every character in the films wore a wig, they would have sorted out his hairline in 2 seconds if they had wanted to (and they clearly lowered it for the Hobbit films when he’s meant to be younger + HW has worn hairpieces in most of his roles so is clearly fine with augmentation) so it was evidently a deliberate choice to keep it like that — and imo it’s a really good one! It’s interesting! He’s still hot! The catholic schoolgirl braids are fun! It’s eldritch! Elrond is old as fuck! He’s a card carrying old coot! Cirdan canonically has a Gandalf beard! Elrond is meant to be half human so ageing isn’t unrealistic anyway! If you had that kind of life you’d lose your damn hair too!

(tldr the guy is fit regardless of hair, i hate that i spent 10 minutes typing this response out re: the most pointless topic known to mankind and fyi the hairline doesn’t even negate the luthien thing, luthien was a woman so obviously she wasn’t going to suffer from male pattern baldness??? 😭)

[embersofnovember]

I LOVE YOU,

DON'T ACT SO SURPRISED.

remy lebeau x gn!reader

summary: you’ve only been a member of the xmen for a little over two months, yet remy’s already made it feel like a week.

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, remy’s a bully, justice for kurt!!, a lotttt of kissing, affectionate themes in general, no angst (for once?), a horrendous attempt at remy’s accent, idk what else

wc: 1312

notes: ignore how i died for a month or two but anyways i watched manchester by the sea the other day and i’m still wrecked

living in the x mansion is something you never imagined for yourself in the future, but never find yourself regretting. hidden away in the greenery, tucked away nicely, mutants roaming freely without the worry of being seen differently on their conscience. almost hidden in plain sight.

in a sense, it’s a better home than anyone else has ever had.

you’ve been living there for almost two months. it was hard to get used to at first, especially since you thought you were the only one—but, seeing everyone so calm, so happy and carefree certainly did make your heart soak itself in warmth. everyone greeted each other open arms.

mutants are normal. not everyone could read minds, or teleport, or move things with their mind, but some could, and you feel as though you’ve finally found a place that wants you.

there’s basketball matches on the court every other day. you and storm bake together. scott keeps a secret stash of liquor in his room, away from the kids and out of reach from logan, who will tear the place down in search for it if he ever found out there was any in the four walls you all call home. occasional movie nights, and you all took turns cooking dinner.

and some nights, when remy would come home from a mission, and would be a little too tired to walk to his room which was a little too far, you find him in your bed, with his head in your lap and your fingers tangled in his hair.

remy doesn’t have much shame.

it’s sweet little gestures the two of you indulge each other in. a slow process that happens more and more frequently as the days pass. things like fixing each other’s hair, catching each other’s stares from across a crowded room. he lets you win in every card game (kurt hates it—favouritism!). you let him sleep in your bed with the innocent price of either of you soothing the other. you take turns. whoever needs it more, or sometimes you just let each other tangle your legs and arms, and simply whisper to each other like you’re exchanging secrets.

you could get used to this. it’s a nice life, a life with a stark difference to the one you harboured mere months ago. sure, there were times, and you had your moments, but you were getting better.

you could get used to this. a life of domesticity that you couldn’t imagine before. october settles, similar to the cold in your skin, but you aren't thinking about that.

“oh, no,” remy tuts, shaking his head with a disapproving click of his tongue. he points metal tongs at kurt’s confused figure, and clicks them together twice. to this, kurt’s eyes widen. he isn’t even two steps into the kitchen.

“banned from de kitchen, oui? away, mon ami.”

you, however, had already gotten used to this.

“i didn’t even do anything!” kurt shouts defensively, german accent thick with frustration. remy near cuts him off with a groan, incessantly and impatiently clicking away with the tongs in kurt’s direction as he walks past.

“me an’ de lovely lady are busy,” he says. his eyes pivot over to you, sitting on the counter with your legs dangling over the edge, busying yourself with stirring the sauce in the pot remy had forgotten about.

“all i would like is a drink,” kurt remarks, more under his breath than to both you or remy. his tail sags behind him as he walks, bush of hair covering the better part of his eyes as he walks past you, giving a quiet nod and that small smile.

already used to the antics between the two best friends, you learnt it was better than to interfere a long time ago.

before kurt extends out a hand to open the fridge, remy’s already shoving him into a headlock and affectionately scratching kurt’s scalp. as dramatic as kurt is, and as if this isn’t a common occurrence for him, he still yelps. he sounds distressed every time it happens, and each time you can’t help but laugh.

remy, of course, is all grins and dimples. when he lets go of the poor guy, he doesn’t stop. “thought you knew better than to come into de kitchen when i’m cooking, mm?”

“no,” kurt muttered in exasperation. a sour look adorns his features as he turns his back and opens the fridge (without interruption, this time), though you can’t hold the conscious thought that maybe kurt really had thought he’d been safe for a second. his accent gets thicker when he’s flustered. “nein, too many people love here for you to be hogging the kitchen!”

the look that remy sent kurt had a giggle bubbling from the back of your throat. then, his attention is on you. remy’s eyes snap from kurt’s to yours, raising a teasing eyebrow.

“you find dis funny, chére?”

uh oh.

your smile, mere a twitch of the corners of your mouth, disappears completely. expecting the similar fate kurt had been given, you scramble for an excuse.

“no, why would i? that’s—“

kurt slips away with a canned beverage before the other can notice. remy advances towards you with his signature pair of tongs, clicking them together with a taunt and a raised eyebrow. there’s the click shut of the fridge, the sizzle of frying fat and remy’s dreamy, dopey grin.

your fate is already sealed. letting out a sigh in resignational defeat, you think just maybe kurt had been spared.

“—that’s stupid.”

“is it now?”

“mm,” your hum, coupled with a few encouraging nods and a smile you slowly can no longer hide, remy’s in front of you before you can blink. a tender hand is brushing a stray hair out of your eyes.

the truth is, remy has never been so badly whipped for anyone in his entire life. he loves you with all of his heart. in the way that his nose accidentally brushes against yours, in the way you enjoyed playing with his hair, in the way he kisses the different expanses of your face repeatedly until he breaks a grin out of you.

like right now.

“rem, you’re cooking,” you remind him, attempting to hold a sense of firmness in your tone as he places a series of kisses along the tip of your nose to the bridge. you were xmen: you were supposed to be responsible.

remy is anything if not responsible.

“i ain’t gon’ burn the house down,” he chides between a kiss on your cheek, tone gravelly and thick with his cajun accent. “you ever known gambit to burn his precious meals?”

“well, what about the other day when—“

he cuts you off with a kiss on your lips. it’s a brusque action, but it’s one you’ve adapted to, one that no longer surprises you, and one you reciprocate with minimal ease. you laugh once, and he pulls away. then, he goes in again and you playfully slap his chest.

“remy!”

he lets out a groan of faux annoyance, landing one final peck on your forehead before he reluctantly steps away to go back to his place at the stove, where he’s fiddling with his beignets with a now concentrated brow.

he is always there. an enigma in the pearls of his teeth, a rose in a bush of thorns.

“‘m just saying, chére,” he starts, eyes narrowing with concentration. then a groan when he flips the pastry to find they’re more golden and caramelised than he would like to admit.

“that i’m right?” you tilt your head, hands balanced on the edge of the counter as your legs swinging mindlessly. to say you felt a little smug is more true than otherwise.

if you were anyone else, remy would’ve turned around and glared at you. instead, he just laughs.

“touché, chérie.”

masterlist!!

[xhyjin]

BORN TO DIE (pt 1)

| megumi fushiguro x sorcerer reader! x toji fushiguro

| the first time (and probably the last) you meet toji fushiguro, you realized two things; he didn’t smile like his son and he definitely wasn’t here to give you his blessings.

| #angst #fluff #tojifushiguro #megumifushiguro

| roughly 2k

| ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ : lowk was under pressure while writing this because i got so many votes on the poll for this story that i was scared of messing it up ><

__________________________________________________

dating megumi fushiguro came with a lot of struggles, such as not knowing much about his past, but it also came with many advantages—like his uncanny ability to help you when you struggled with a particular curse technique. he had a way of understanding your frustration without you even needing to explain it, guiding you through the basics of jujutsu like it was second nature.

“ugh, i swear, when you’re here, i can suddenly do it, but when you’re not, i keep struggling,” you groan, slumping to the ground with frustration written all over your face. megumi watches you with a soft gaze.

“well, i’m rather flattered that you want to do well in front of me,” he teases, holding out a hand to help you up.

you give him a pointed look and push his hand away. “don’t flatter yourself.” you stand up from the ground, wiping yourself off. “i’m tired, gumi. let’s go home and do nothing but kiss and cuddle,” you whine, leaning into his broad chest and burying your face against him.

megumi lets out a quiet sigh, his hand coming up to rest on your back. “you’re so dramatic,” he murmurs, but the slight smile on his face gives him away. “i’m not dramatic,” you grumble, your voice slightly muffled against his uniform. “if i’d been trained by gojo-sensei since childhood like you, i’d be a natural too!”

megumi raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. “you really think training with gojo would’ve made things easier? trust me, it’s not as great as it sounds.”

you pull back just enough to look up at him, narrowing your eyes. “yeah, right. coming from the guy who can summon shikigami without breaking a sweat.” ��practice goes a long way, sweetheart,” he says softly, pulling your face away from his chest so you’re looking at him. “and as long as i’m here to help you, you’ll be better than everyone in jujutsu high combined.”

before you can respond, he presses a sweet kiss onto your cheek, his calm confidence making your frustration melt away. “are you guys coming or not?” yuji groans from his spot on the floor.

“hey, they were just about to kiss!” nobara says, smacking yuji, her eyes gleaming as she watches the two of you like it’s some rom-com. “yes, yuji,” you roll your eyes, pulling away from megumi as the two of you grab your things and leave, hand in hand, with yuji and nobara on either side of you.

“let’s get some pizza, i’m starving,” yuji says as you all walk out of the school grounds. “ugh, pizza is too oily for this summer heat. let’s get sushi!” nobara insists.

“i’m okay with sushi” megumi says, shrugging. “me too,” you chime in, grinning. yuji lets out an exaggerated sigh. “i feel like you guys hate me.”

“sushi it is, i guess,” he mutters dramatically, leading the way to the sushi restaurant near the school. before you guys walk into the restaurant, you stop. “wait, i need to quickly run to the gas station over there,” you say, pointing toward the convenience store. “i just need to grab something. you guys go without me!”

“need me to come with you?” megumi asks, suddenly pulling you back to him before you can run off.

“no, gumi, i’ll be quick. just order for me and save me a good spot.” you press a quick peck onto his lips before pulling away, already starting to walk toward the gas station.

megumi shrugs, not thinking too much about you going alone since he knows you can handle yourself and use your curse techniques properly if needed.

you walk into the gas station, tapping your fingers nervously on the counter. “can i get a pack of marlboro cigarettes?” you ask the cashier, trying to sound casual, but your eyes dart around, making sure none of the group decided to follow you.

nobody knows that you smoke; you don’t even drink. but you started smoking as a way to calm yourself down. you pay for the cigarettes and head to the alleyway beside the convenience store. you grab a cigarette, reaching into your pocket for your lighter, but it slips from your hand.

“shoot,” you curse under your breath, watching the lighter tumble to the ground.

suddenly, a foot stops it from rolling any farther. you freeze, looking up to see who’s there. “need help with that?” a deep but spine chilling voice asks. before you can answer, the man steps closer, effortlessly picking up the lighter from the ground. without saying another word, he takes the cigarette from your hand, prying it between your lips before lighting it for you.

your heart skips a beat as you look up at him. you don’t know who this man is, but he eerily looks exactly like megumi, causing you to freeze up in shock, your mind racing. for a moment, you almost think it is him. you inhale the smoke, taking the cigarette out of your mouth before exhaling it all over his face. “do i know you?” you ask, doing your best to hide the nervousness creeping up inside you.

the man doesn’t flinch, his expression unreadable as he watches you, his gaze lingering for a moment before he speaks. “maybe you do.” he takes the cigarette from your fingers, placing it between his lips as he mimics your movements, blowing smoke all over your face. you groan in disgust, the hot breath and thick smoke hitting you at the same time. instinctively, you try to pull away, but he steps closer, his presence suffocating as you attempt to create some space between you.

before you can answer, a voice calls out for you.

“y/n?!”

it was megumi.

“fuck,” you mutter under your breath, quickly trying to get rid of the smell of cigarettes.

“what? scared of being caught smoking?” the man teases, his voice and tone almost identical to megumi’s. you’re a little shocked—not only does he look like him, but his voice is nearly the same too.

“fuck off,” you snap, grabbing a small perfume tester bottle from your pocket and spraying it all over yourself. without a second thought, you quickly walk out of the alleyway, hoping megumi wasn’t that near you.

“baby, where have you been? i thought you were going to be quick?” megumi says, his voice full of concern as he catches sight of you walking out of what he assumes was the store.

“i’m sorry, there was a long line and the cashier was taking forever,” you lie, feeling a pang of guilt for not being honest.

“it’s fine,” he replies, a small smile forming on his lips. “but let’s go back before yuji eats all your sushi.”

he leans in to hug you, and though you’re hesitant at first, you eventually latch your arms onto him, hugging him back. standing on your tippy toes, your head resting on his shoulder, you glance back toward the alleyway. to your relief, the man isn’t there anymore, but your eyes catch a burnt cigarette butt on the ground, a small reminder of the unsettling encounter.

“no hate, baby, but you need to stop being so near shoko and geto-sensei, you reek of cigarettes,” megumi says, pulling away from you and making a fake disgusted face.

you nervously smile, trying to play it off. “that’s mean.”

he chuckles, squeezing your hand as you grab it and walk back to the restaurant together. as you ate your sushi, the chatter around you faded into a muffled blur. your gaze fixed on megumi, who sat across from you beside nobara, casually eating as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

you couldn’t help but wonder about the man from the alleyway. was there some connection between him and megumi? the resemblance was uncanny—the way he looked, the way he spoke. it was too similar to be a coincidence. the thought gnawed at you, making it hard to focus on anything else.

“y/n, are you okay?” nobara’s voice snaps you back to reality. “i asked if you wanted to go to the mall tomorrow, just me and you, but you were too busy staring at megumi,” she teases, nudging megumi beside her and wiggling her eyebrows at you.

megumi meets your gaze, his eyes soft and filled with love, making your heart skip a beat.

“aw, you two are like little kids in love,” yuji coos, placing his head on his hand with an exaggerated sigh as he watches the two of you, clearly amused. you regain your composure, shaking your head with a smile. “yeah, sure, i’d love to,” you say to nobara.

“it’s getting late, let’s head home,” megumi says, gesturing to the waitress for the bill. “here, i’ll pay. sushi was on me, guys,” he adds, taking the bill and placing a sleek black card on the table that clearly didn’t belong to him.

“more like on gojo-sensei,” nobara jokes, causing yuji to burst into laughter.

“daddy’s money,” yuji chimes in, smirking.

megumi narrows his eyes at them, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “you know what? i’d like to only pay for mine and my lovely girlfriend’s meal,” he says to the waitress, his voice calm but pointed.

nobara and yuji immediately stop laughing. “wait, no!” they both say in unison, panic creeping into their voices.

“no, you guys don’t want me to do a nice gesture and pay for your meal, so you can pay for yourselves,” megumi says smugly, leaning back in his chair as nobara groans and yuji scrambles to check his wallet. you let out a small giggle, shaking your head. “gumi, be nice!” you say, your tone slightly teasing.

“yeah, ‘gumi,’ be nice,” yuji mimics, flipping his wallet upside down to reveal its emptiness. “seriously, man, i’m broke!”

megumi sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “hey, only she can call me that,” he says firmly before waving down the waitress again. “fine, i’ll pay for the rest of their meals too.”

the waitress nods, taking the card and disappearing for a moment before returning with it. yuji lets out a dramatic cheer, and nobara smirks.

“see? he does have a heart,” nobara teases, making megumi roll his eyes as he takes his card back. “you guys can go; me and yuji are heading to the arcade. unless you want to tag along?” nobara suggests as you all stand up and leave the restaurant.

yuji perks up immediately. “yeah! come with us! it’ll be fun!”

megumi glances at you, his hand lightly brushing against yours. “do you want to go, or should we head home?” he asks softly, letting you decide. before you can answer, megumi’s phone buzzes. he pulls it out of his pocket, staring at the contact name. “it’s gojo-sensei,” he mutters.

“why is he calling?” yuji asks, tilting his head in curiosity.

“gojo is like his dad, yuji. maybe he wants to know why his ‘son’ isn’t home yet,” nobara jokes, sending both her and yuji into another round of laughter.

megumi rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed. “you two are ridiculous,” he says before answering the phone. “what is it, gojo-sensei?”

megumi walks a few steps behind the group, his phone pressed to his ear as he talks to gojo. you barely pay attention to yuji and nobara’s playful banter, your mind distracted. occasionally, you glance over your shoulder, catching glimpses of megumi’s stern expression as he nods silently to whatever gojo is saying.

suddenly, he stops walking, his posture stiff. the abrupt halt makes you stop as well, causing yuji and nobara to pause and turn around to see what’s going on.

“megumi?” you call out softly, watching him closely as his grip on the phone tightens. his gaze flicks to you, his usual calm demeanor masking whatever was just said to him. the air feels heavier now, and all of you stand there, waiting for him to speak.

“i understand,” megumi says into the phone, his gaze fixed on you. he slides his phone back into his pocket before quickly walking toward you, gripping your arms firmly.

“ouch, megumi!” you protest, wincing at the pressure of his grip. but he doesn’t seem to notice, his attention sharp and unwavering.

“we need to get you indoors now,” he says, his voice firm and edged with urgency as he starts pulling you away. his strides are quick, his grip unrelenting.

“what’s happening?!” nobara shouts, panic clear in her voice. yuji looks equally alarmed, his eyes darting between you and megumi.

“gumi, you’re hurting me,” you plead, trying to wriggle free from his grasp.

“i’m sorry, y/n, but i can’t explain right now. we need to get you indoors now,” he says, his voice rising slightly at the end. the sudden force in his tone makes you flinch, his uncharacteristic harshness sending a chill through you.

as he pulls you along, his eyes dart around the area, scanning for something—or someone. every movement he makes is calculated, as if he’s expecting danger at any moment.

once inside the dorms, megumi is quick to shut and lock the door, his movements frantic as he pulls down all the blinds and checks every corner of the room.

“megumi, what’s going on?!” you ask, desperation creeping into your voice as you watch him move around like a maniac.

yuji and nobara exchange confused looks, their worry mirroring yours.

finally, megumi stops and walks over to you, his expression grim. “listen, y/n, you’re in danger,” he says firmly. “you’re being targeted by an assassin.”

his words hit you like a truck, and your knees feel weak. “an assassin?” yuji echoes, his voice laced with disbelief.

“why would she be a target for an assassin? she hasn’t done anything!” nobara chimes in, her voice high with confusion.

you don’t say anything, the weight of megumi’s revelation settling heavily on you. without a word, you sink onto the bed, your hands trembling slightly as your mind races.

“assassins don’t need a motive, they need an order. hell, they’ll kill a dog if they’re told to,” megumi says, taking a seat beside you on the bed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his chest. “nothing is going to happen to you, nothing,” he says, kissing the temple of your head while you continue shaking in fear.

“well, do we at least know who the assassin is?” yuji asks, taking a seat on the floor in front of you two. “that’s the thing, we don’t know. we don’t know who they are, why they’re after y/n, who ordered the assassination, or how powerful they are.” megumi says.

“i think i know who it is,” you say, your voice coming out breathy.

“who?!” they all say in unison.

[bloodnikki]

Ekko loves Jinx. He loves every side of her even if he can’t get the name right. He wonders why it’s a struggle to accept her as Jinx until she’s gone and it hits him.

Guilt. It’s guilt that made him unable to let go. It’s guilt for his people. If he accepted as Jinx, and loved her anyway, he would’ve been a failure to them. He wouldn’t have been able to look them in the eyes as he fought to protect them.

Powder’s still in there was code for I’m not a bad person for wanting her. It maybe why he was so angry he wouldn’t let him call her that. Jinx wanted him to remember her crimes. Jinx needed him to see her for who she was.

He gets why she stayed with Silco. He was an awful man but at least he cared for her enough to respect the person she wanted to be. Ekko had been ashamed to love her.

‘Hey, I know we were meant to have this big talk after the battle but I can’t. I’m tired of talking. We run around in circles. Powder, Powder you say and I say I’m Jinx and you give those big eyes and I feel shitty for being me and you feel shitty because I’m me. I can’t do that. So, I’m just gonna listen to Silco. I’m going to end the cycle. He came to me the other day talking about being brave enough to end cycles or some nonsense. He talks too much. I guess it’s finally time I listen. Kinda owe him one time seeing as I killed him.

Ekko, do you ever wonder what we could’ve been? I do. Not all the time. I’m not that crazy but I do. It reminds me of how fucked and jinxed I am and your stupid big eyes and I just can’t do this anymore. It would’ve been easier if you just killed me.

So, no big talk. Instead, I’m ending the cycle. I’m going to this place I heard about from Vander when he was still kicking around. Maybe if we met there things would’ve been different.’

Ekko.hates when he finds the letter stuffed in his things at the lab. He thinks how he thinks of it as their lab but it’s not. It’s all hers and she’s gone. Vi said she didn’t make it. He cries for what feels like hours. He leaves and can’t will himself back to their shared space.

He misses her so much. Everything reminds him of her. His feet take him back to their lab and he’s ready to mourn her all over again when he sees a letter that wasn’t there before. In large pink ink, the top read She Lives.

He flicks it open and the first lines make him chuckle. ‘I just can’t seem to die. So, the world is stuck with me. The world is stuck with me but that doesn’t mean I have to be stuck here. I doubt you’d like to come with. I’m scared you’d say no. So, I’ve gone on ahead. I’m going to check out this place here. If I miss you, which let’s face it, you most likely aren’t gonna come, I’ll leave a note on where I’ll head next. It’ll be like a game.’

Ekko hates how excited he is she’s alive. He hates the idea of not telling Vi or anyone. He tells Scar though. Ekko’s packing a bag and he tells Scar “she made it. I’m going. Things are covered here and ya got this and I’m going and-“

“Good. Go.” Scar understands. “Come back once you both are ready.”

“I… thanks.”

Ekko follows behind her. Some stops, he knows he just missed her. Everyone tells him stories about her and he reads her letters. He cries some nights looking them over. She leaves a photo behind for him. The back reads ‘look at me! I’m finally putting on some pounds. Maybe I’ll finally grow boobs.’ She looks beautiful.

Their messages are a one way street. She can talk to him but he can’t talk to her. It must be justice for all the times he shut her out when he wanted to speak to Powder and only got Jinx. Ekko buys a notebook on the way to the third town. He wants to write down his thoughts to share later with her.

It’s almost two years and he’s just missed her more times than he could count. He wonders if she’ll ever slow down enough to let him catch her. From her letters, it sounds like she’s scared he isn’t coming. He hates that she’s no faith in him. Of course he’s coming. He loves her.

It finally happens. He finally sees her in person and there’s no way she’s getting away, unless she runs. He really hopes she doesn’t run.

“Ekko.”

And that’s it. He’s never letting her out of sight again.

[my-fall-from-grace]

ok yknow what i’m gonna say it

no matter how “bad” logan has been or how “little” he deserves this 2nd year or how he’s a “pay driver” or whatever else y’all always say

he doesn’t deserve this. any of this

since the very first moment he stepped in a f1 car, he’s been treated as a joke. first it was the wtf is a kilometre jokes then rah rah eagles and now logan in the wall / fork found in kitchen / deuxmoi memes. every weekend, the commentators compare him to his teammate, ignoring the difference in experience and the way they aren’t even driving the same car and that logan was literally running last years specs multiple times. they compare him to oscar, who has driven multiple times f1 cars during test runs and is in a mclaren and the situations are not even remotely similar, ignoring that logan was promoted early, that he didn’t have much opportunity to drive f1 cars even for testing, that he was literally tossed into the deep end without any help and told to survive.

the only time they were even remotely kind to him was when they gave his car to alex. which thanks for the support or whatever but that is so backhanded i don’t even have the words to describe it.

i think we’re all coming to the terms with the reality that this will be his last year in f1. and i don’t think that’s fair for so many reasons. you promote him early, you give him a shit car, you talk bad about him in the media and you don’t promote him (lap of legends hello?) and you openly court other drivers for his seat. you disrespect him and allow others to disrespect him and that’s not right.

formula 1 is the dream for so many people. imagine achieving your dream, even if it’s in a joke of a team, even if it’s too early. but then you become the joke of a joke, you become the american, which is a bad thing. the outsider, the one who doesn’t belong. they make fun of you each weekend. they ask every day when you’ll be replaced.

(and yeah i agree. he does need to improve to have any hope of keeping his seat, f1 is brutal and it’s never been kind, and i’m not being naive and thinking oh it’s his dream and so he deserves it despite it all. i’m not saying that. what i am saying is that is a human being, just like nicholas latifi was, and some of you are too comfortable being cruel.)

speaking of being the american. they make fun of you as though that will punish the fia for putting 3 us races on the calendar. as though that will punish all the american fans who came to f1 through drive to survive. as though that will keep f1 pure and european and whatever the fuck else - they do the same to yuki and zhou and checo and lewis and even if logan’s situation is not even remotely similar to what they’ve experienced, there’s a bias to f1 that cannot be ignored.

but that’s not the point i’m trying to make. not today

this was your dream. this was your dream. and you were never allowed to enjoy it because you became the punchline of a joke the minute you accepted the seat. it was always going to end like this. you knew that.

so yeah. congrats to logan for achieving his dream of driving in f1! it’s unfortunate that he was never allowed to live it.

[starrcrossrose]

“This Is A Bad Idea”

“I Don’t Care”

Uhh HAPPY VALENTINES DAY *throws guys kissing at you and runs away*

If you wanna see more of them I have a LOT on my Patreon. Uhhhh yeah bYE —

[iguessitsjustme]

*takes you by the hand as gently as I can*

You can dislike Maya without turning her into a one dimensional villain that serves no purpose to the story.

You can dislike Maya without disparaging the story and message the show is trying to convey.

You can hate Maya without moralizing your hatred. You can just hate her. It’s okay.

[wewillbeseen-butnotbeheard]

thank you for the understanding. i apologise if i appear as a “burden” (for this community, for whatever reason it may be) but if this is a civilised discussion then i need to get this off my chest

obviously i went on a streak of attempting to revile a lot of different pages/accounts on here. i assume some people noticed (i have dozens of asks since yesterday). it’s not the first time, i did it once over a month ago; albeit not as thoroughly as right now.

i have been met with a fair amount of genuine concern and empathy since, and at this point i feel bad for it again. it was only because i reached a point where i thought i would be better off with burning bridges with my own account as so i wouldn’t be welcomed here/whatever else. i’m tired of attempting to move on and failing because i just can’t seem to

but anyway. sorry for ranting (although this may be a rant) i think this is more relevant

i have a brief idea of my own position on this kind of thing, so i’m going to explain as simple as i can. i want to be an animal. probably my entire life it’s been something that i’ve “had” even if i didn’t realise that until recently. it was probably the one constant that shaped me as an individual when i was a little younger. it’s only ~RECENTLY that it’s progressively became a lot stronger as a desire. it’s put me in a situation where i have a lot of strong emotions about a lot of things

so i don’t TRY to be hateful to this community but it becomes overpowering sometimes and i can’t help it, even if i should.

there’s a notion that i come across often, that i’m “repressed”, or “in denial” or anything along those lines. i’ve had it been said to me by people that are probably genuinely important within this community/people that i happen to “look up to” as furries. it feeds into my own disdain for these spaces. let me explain. i don’t think i’m in denial, i don’t feel like it. i genuinely WISH i was in denial. the idea that i’m “denying myself” implies that i “am” a fox or whatever else. yet it only angers me because i would be better off i was in denial with myself. i don’t think i am.

it could come off as “not wanting to be those things”. but i likely say a lot of stuff that could be interpreted strangely. it is in my own nature to want to be an animal, so i would TAKE anything to get me closer to that, no matter how small (that doesn’t mean i would settle on it). I FIND IT HARD to accept this community as things are simply, because the idea that one can “be an animal” and i’m human feels like a punch to the gut. i was afraid of ever typing that out because i’m afraid it sounds immature, but it doesn’t come from a place of immaturity any more than anything else.

because when you start describing “nonhuman/s/etc. as “literally animals” then for me, the thought of wanting to be an animal comes into play. i yearn to be a PHYSICAL animal yet i would give almost just as much to be closer to it in any other regard. it’s only the stigma that i’ve built around “nonhumanity” that stray me from “wanting” to be it. (alongside just; not being one anyway.)

being told to accept myself hurts, because it implies that there is something to accept; or a prospect of getting closer to the concept of being something else. yet i can’t FIND it. i would jump at the first glimpse of that opportunity, as i have been trying to, but i can’t understand it.

i was called a fox in one of the asks, and (i’m sorry to get vulnerable, not as if i haven’t already) a tear literally ran down my face. i’m hardly an emotional person like that. i said not to call me anything like that, and i’m pretty sure they sent another apologising “i’m sorry for assuming what to call you” and i’m not going to lie. reading that felt like having my own guts emptied out. the point is, it’s my fault

ANYWAY. that was a lot of words. i’m sorry for dumping all of this onto here. but i hope that made it clear what i mean/am saying. once again, i don’t think i necessarily deserve forgiveness of any kind despite this. sorry. i hope i didn’t misinterpret anything, thank you for giving me a chance to discuss this and i hope this was coherent.

i don’t think my words hold much value to people like you, and i don’t think you would be willing to listen or take it to heart, but it’s still worth trying. i would like you to realise that you are human in every way. you are not an animal, you are not a dragon. (you probably already know this. maybe you’re in denial. i don’t know) either way, none of you would actually be willing to give it even a second of thought because you’re insecure about yourself, and you’re insecure because you know you’re human. i assure you that you will not reach full personal contentment until you live out your life without pretending to be a mythical creature. wtv have a good day

Ooh, I haven’t gotten one of these asks in a few years.

So I ask this, and every other question I will follow up with, completely genuinely, and if you’re willing to really get into the weeds discussing it I’d love to do so (though I’ll probably reblog any follow-ups to my other blog): why do you think you know me and my experiences better than I do?

Why do you think you can armchair diagnose me with insecurity? What evidence do you actually have for that, besides the fact that I’m nonhuman? What evidence do you have that I’m not already content and fulfilled in my life?

Is it possible that identifying as nonhuman is unrelated to those things entirely, and you’re making a false assumption?

I get it. It looks crazy, when you’re completely new to the concept. It’s weird - it is! But pause and listen to us when we talk about our experiences for a moment.

For many of us, myself included, finding nonhumanity is a moment of suddenly understanding - of pieces falling into place, of my life experiences suddenly making sense. Awakening is something that made me more content and fulfilled, not less - there’s a sadness in it sometimes, yes, but so too is there the comfort of understanding yourself in a new way, of realizing, oh. I’m not just weird. There’s not something wrong with me. There are other people like me.

(If this sounds a lot like the experience of figuring out you’re queer, there’s a reason for that.)

To use myself as an example of the flaws in your hypothesis: there’s… honestly not much dissatisfaction with my life right now. I’ve got a stable job with decent income. I’d like to be able to cut back my hours a bit, but that will come in time. I’ve got enough free time as it is to do my art and play my tabletop games with friends in my off time. I’ve got family and friends around me. Sure, I miss my wings, but I’m hoping to pick up powered paragliding in the near future and hoping that’ll scratch that itch at least somewhat. I’m doing pretty well, honestly. This isn’t the case for all otherkin, but it’s not the case for all orthohumans (people who aren’t alterhuman in any way) either. What it does indicate, however, is that your hypothesis that being otherkin inherently means you’re insecure and unhappy with your life is false, or at minimum flawed - if it were true, I wouldn’t exist.

So, I ask again: why do you think you understand my own experiences better than I do? And moreover, why does it bother you so much that I am the way I am?

The name for the thing you’re doing here, intentionally or not, is concern trolling - trying to push me out of an identity by professing concern for problems that don’t exist. Why? Why are you going out of your way to tell other people they’re wrong about their own identity? Why is your reaction, when you see an identity you don’t understand, to decide it’s unhealthy, or just make-believe, or whatever, and then to make that the problem of the people who identify that way? What exactly makes you think this is inherently unhealthy?

Would it not be better to devote that energy to trying to understand us, instead of trying to change us?

You don’t have to answer these questions to me, obviously, but I do encourage you to answer them to yourself at least. Pick apart your worldview for a minute and see if it actually holds up under scrutiny - it’s good for you, and mental enrichment to boot! If you are willing to really get into the weeds of this discussion with me, again, I’d love to do that - I love having discussions like this, and it’s good for me to have my worldview challenged every so often too! Please, genuinely, pick at the flaws in my logic if you see them - if it can be pulled apart under scrutiny, it needs to be pulled apart and rebuilt. No one on the internet is obligated to let a stranger do that, obviously, but personally I enjoy it - it’s a meat pumpkin for me - so let’s talk, if you’re up for it. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve gotten a good interesting antikin to debate with.

[itspileofgoodthings]

School is going so great and also I am so exhausted and also I am having an existential crisis

[thefabulousfab-3]

“I can’t believe Penelope got a happy ending”

Oh my god, you’re so right it’s not like this show is a romance where every main couple is guaranteed a happy ending. Oh wait…

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

holy fuck, this gives the zenin so much more lore than what we got in the manga. like the potential is right there to have this great inter-clan generational dispute and cold war but gege just breezes past it and then gets rid of it completely.

with all this cool new shut we’re getting about them, im almost glad that megumi was born a boy. like could you imagine just how much worse the zenin would have been to him if he was a girl? they already have the whole misogyny thing going for them and then their version of jesus pops up and it turns out that it’s a girl who wields their prized technique?

god, i can’t imagine just how much more controlling they would be towards megs, although im still not sure if the whole training until ur bones fall off would still happen. i feel like naoya would be different towards megs but we also know that the zenin are totally okay with incest so i hate where that would go.

It would have been bad.

See, I think the entire training until your bones fall off thing would still happen, but there would be an added layer of cruelty towards it. Because megumi was a little boy who was being trained in a way that even adults couldn’t have handled, so of course he spent a lot of time getting hit and a lot of time crumpling under the pressure and exhaustion. There are very, very few instances where he remembers actually leaving the training room on his own two feet. He usually was pushed until he collapsed and woke up later in the room they kept for him. But if he was a little girl in the same circumstances? They’d make every “failing” about her sex. They’d blame her being a girl for it and constantly use it as a source of sneering superiority.

It would also be bad because she would very much be seen as a source of descendants. Boy Megumi wouldn’t necessarily be exempt from that, but it would happen sooner for girl Megumi.

Bloodline is very important to the Zenin. Inheriting power, techniques—they want to continue the flow of power through the generations. And most of the Zenin clan (and the wider jujutsu world) believe that Megumi is the most powerful Zenin alive right now, if not Gojo’s equal, and the only reason why hes being graded as a Grade Two sorcerer is because gojo’s purposefully sabotaging his development. Like. Mindset is a huge amount of jujutsu ability. Yuuta went from getting beaten up by normal high schoolers to having some combat ability but needing inumaki to handle a semi grade one to being the second most powerful person alive in the span of a few months. He absolutely blitzed the previous second most powerful person alive when he would have lost that same fight a few hours previous. There’s a lot of people convinced Megumi’s on Gojo’s level but he’s been keeping him on a leash since childhood. But the powers still there in his blood.

That’s power the Zenin want to pass on, regardless of gender. But as a boy, Megumi’s got a little bit more leeway—men are accepted as warriors first in the clan, and age won’t affect his ability to procreate. If megumi was a girl? She’s got that goddamn biological clock ticking down. As the ten shadows, I think the Zenin would still expect her as a warrior, but they’d also have a fucking quota she needs to fill before the clock hits zero. And they’d have some very proprietary concerns about making sure no one outside of the clan has a chance to become involved with her. They’d want her to stay within the clan with her partners. And they’d be absolutely creepy and weird about how they went about it. It’s a little bit of a mercy that Megumi’s a boy.

[tricksterlatte]

It always makes me sad whenever stories with hopeful messages or lighthearted moments are sometimes dismissed as unintelligent or weaker than tragedies. Isn't joy and hope what makes a dark journey worthwhile? Not every story needs an unhappy ending to serve as a lesson.

I will forever be a fan of stories that say hey, maybe the world is a rough place, and it will always be this way, but you can make a difference with the people who matter to you. Even if no one else will know, even if no one else will remember, the ones you loved, and who loved you in return, will remember. People who are holding onto you, even at the end of everything else. People who remind you that new beginnings are born from the ashes.

My favorite stories will always end with love, hope, and the sun rising on the horizon after hell and high waters. The world can be so cruel, but we can choose not to be as individuals. Joy is as human as anger and sorrow. Joy is what we reach for when we are at our lowest, whether we realize it or not. We want what was lost back. I love stories where the characters reach the light at the end of the tunnel, emerge on the other side, and are allowed to heal. Even if they’ve done bad things, even if they aren’t perfect, isn’t that true of all of us?