#i kind of feel like I’ve been on a negative kick lately but I just had to get this one out there

[whitegownsandflowercrowns]

Dear Fellow Creatives:

You are not entitled to anyone liking your work

You do not have to read negative reviews of your work

You are not entitled to anyone liking your work

You do not get to bully, belittle, or even stalk people who don’t like your work

You are not entitled to anyone liking your work

Creating a piece of art, whatever form that takes, takes a lot of bravery, and I appreciate and love you all for that bravery

But still, you are not entitled to anyone liking your work

[nereidprinc3ss]

hii i love love how u write spencer omds🥸

uhh i was wondering if you could write sth based off the song “we’ll never have sex” by leith ross? pls dont feel pressured to write this btw😭😭😭 hope ur having a good day lovely💗💗

hello my love i have no self control so this is extremely long and plotty but i love this song and i hope that this is any good at all crying emoji (i'm on a laptop LOL) enjoy!!

warnings/tags: angst/fluff, fem!reader, negative self-talk from reader, mentions of past sexual coercion/feeling used, mentions of past excessive drinking to combat social anxiety, ive been watching a lot of new girl lately and i think it shows, SO FRIENDS TO LOVERS, happy ending

You weren’t expecting to end up on Spencer Reid’s worn-leather couch at two in the morning, clutching a chipped mug of coffee in your hands as you listen to the sounds of the city from the street below. But there you are, sitting with your legs folded under you, in your favorite dress and first date-night makeup (now bleeding and smudged from all the crying.) And realizing that despite considering him one of your closest friends, you haven’t been to his apartment in a long time. There are, of course, good reasons for that—but you try to push those from your mind. 

“I’m really sorry about this,” you sigh, staring at your warped reflection in the glassy black surface of your coffee. Spencer is coming out of the small kitchen, now bearing his own cup. 

“Please, stop apologizing.” 

You glance up, tentatively studying him from behind the safety of your mug. While he may not have been asleep when you knocked on his door ten minutes ago, lachrymose and barely verbal, he must have been getting ready for bed. He’s clad in patterned pajama pants, mismatched socks, and an FBI crewneck that is just big enough to reveal the collar of the tee-shirt underneath. He’s already taken out his contacts, and you were startled by the reminder that he also has glasses. 

“So...” he begins, bringing you back to the present moment, “we don't have to talk about anything, if you don’t want to, but...” 

You sigh, watching coffee bubbles swirl like stars in a galaxy. 

“It’s fine. Honestly, I’m kind of embarrassed. I didn’t really think, I just... ended up here.” 

“Yeah... where did you come from?” he laughs quietly. “Not that I’m complaining. But I recall you not living super close by.” 

“No, no. I was actually on a date. Kind of.” 

“Ah.” There’s a beat of silence, and ostensibly Spencer is waiting for you to say more, but instead you take a sip from your mug. “At two in the morning?” You nod dully, staring at the labyrinthine pattern of the Persian rug.  

“I’m taking it that it wasn’t a very good date...?” 

A whoosh of air escapes from your puffed cheeks. 

“No it was not. Not by the end, anyway. It actually started really well, which made it even more disappointing when he...” you laugh, but there’s not much humor in it. “Well, when he kicked me out of his car on a street corner because I didn’t want to sleep with him.” 

You don’t look to see Spencer’s reaction—only take another long, baleful sip of coffee and ignore the heavy silence.  

“I’m really sorry. You... you deserve so much better than that.” 

An attempt at a jaded scoff from you falls flat. 

“Yeah, well. Tell that to the last three white house interns I’ve gone on dates with. It’s the same thing every time.” 

“Have you considered going on fewer dates with white house interns...?” The nervous humor is a thin veil over genuine critique. You shrug, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“It’s not just them. Every single guy I’ve liked since I was 15 has been like this. Even my past relationships, I felt like I was almost... tricked into, you know? I mean, these guys, they act all understanding and willing to take it slow or whatever, until you’re in a relationship, and suddenly they’re guilt tripping you so hard and making you feel so obligated to...” you catch yourself just in time, glancing up at Spencer. You’re not sure what to make of his expression. The drawn brow and slightly squinted eyes trained so intently on you could be sympathy, or anger, or pity, or apathy—you look away, not sure you even want to know what he’s thinking. “Sorry. You don’t need to hear all about that. Basically romance is exhausting and since I’ll clearly be single forever I’m considering running away to join a nunnery.” 

When he doesn’t respond for too long, you look back up quizically. 

“I’m not sure you know what romance actually is,” he says as soon as your gaze meets his, like the eye-contact activated some kind of hair-trigger in his vocal box. 

You blink, lowering the coffee cup to your lap. 

Says Spencer Reid? 

“...sorry?” 

He flushes, stammering to clarify himself. 

“I just meant—I—I know I’m not exactly fighting women off with a stick—” he interrupts himself with a self-conscious (adorable) laugh— “but... but I have been in love, at least once.”  

“Maeve,” you say, gently—trying to shove down bitter guilt as you remember how jealous you’d been when Spencer had first told you about her. “I remember.” 

He swallows and nods. 

“We never even met—we just talked. All the time. I had no idea what she looked like. But it didn’t matter at all. Because I knew her, and I loved her. Maybe things would have gone further if I hadn’t been calling her from public phone booths, but that wasn’t the most important thing to either of us. We were still in love.” You try to shut out the sharp ache in your chest. Being jealous of the way he speaks about a dead woman is so wrong.  

“What I’m trying to say is that romance isn’t solely about sex, or even physical appearance. It sounds to me like you’ve been with a lot of men who don’t understand that. And it would be such a shame for you to write romance off in general before you even get to experience it. You are... an extraordinary woman. You’re funny, and intelligent, and kind, and so capable of being loved. One day, someone is going to see beyond your pulchritude and prove that to you. I hope you let them try.” 

More tears blur the pattern on the rug, pooling in the rims of your eyes before spilling down your cheeks in fast, fat drops. Shakily you set the cup down, resting your elbows on your knees and hiding your face in your hands. You sniff once. Twice. Shake your head quickly, attempting to wipe the tears away without further smearing your makeup everywhere. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Spencer breathes, leaning forward but obviously unsure how to comfort you. “Please don’t cry, I wasn’t--I was trying to do the opposite of this.” 

“No, I’m sorry! You didn’t have to—you didn’t—I’m sorry. That was way too nice.” 

But you're not crying because he was nice.  

Someone will love you, but not me. That’s all you can hear. 

His voice is a mere whisper when he next speaks. 

“I meant every word.” 

You take a shuddering breath, allowing yourself a moment of reprieve behind the peaceful black of your eyelids. You can’t be looking at his face when you say what you’re about to say. 

“I had a crush on you for the longest time, you know.” 

Ringing silence. But it doesn’t last as long as you’d imagined. It’s not as world ending. 

“Had?” 

The little smile in his voice is like a fist around your heart. 

“Yeah. You know what changed?” 

“What’s that?” 

Absolutely nothing. 

“Every time I got super drunk and started hitting on you, you’d just drive me home. And I did it a lot. Like, for months. But you were such a gentleman. It drove me fucking crazy. So eventually I figured you just didn’t like me and I gave up.” 

Another stretch of silence. A breeze comes in from the open window, fluttering the curtains and cooling the tears on your face. His response is sad when it finally comes. 

“You thought I didn’t like you because I didn’t try to take advantage of you when you were drunk?” 

“Pretty much.” You smile ruefully, fingertips still pressed over your eyes. “God, listen to me. No wonder I get treated like garbage.” 

“Stop. Don’t talk about yourself like that. Did you hear anything I just said?” 

You sniff, looking to the ceiling. 

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. It was really sweet.” 

More silence. 

“But you don’t believe it.” 

A bitter laugh poisons the air around you. 

“I don’t know.  I’m kind of tired of waiting for someone to prove it to me. Just for once, I want someone to be interested in me beyond having sex in the back of their fucking... Range Rover, or whatever. Like, maybe all that stuff you said is true, but there’s no evidence to support it, and I know logically you’re probably right but I can’t help wondering if... if I’m the outlier. Maybe there just isn’t someone for me like that. Maybe I’m just gonna be the sex in the back of the Range Rover girl forever.” 

A noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob forces itself from your throat and you bury your face in your hands again, shaking your head. 

“Wow, I am so sorry,” you say a little too loudly, “I did not mean to be this honest tonight. Did you spike my coffee?” 

“You are not the outlier,” Spencer whispers.  

You sniff, lifting your head haltingly to look at him. 

“What?” 

His voice shakes slightly as he speaks. 

“You said you can’t help wondering if you’re the outlier, and maybe there just isn’t someone for you like that. That’s not true.” 

“Spencer, those are just words. You can’t possibly know that. Statistical probabilities don’t count.” 

“That’s... that’s not how I know.” 

Your heart drops as you study his face.  

No. 

Surely he’s not saying what you think he’s saying. 

Surely he wouldn’t do this to you after you’ve just told him everything you told him. You have been harboring feelings for him for years. Since you met. He can’t just spring this on you one night because you’re a little bummed out. If he felt the same, you would have found out a long time ago; he had ample opportunity to tell you. There was a period of months where you practically threw yourself all over him at every chance you got, and he did nothing. So this... this is just cruel—something you’ve never known Spencer Reid to be. 

You stand up, trembling slightly with rage and grief and humiliation. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t say things that you don’t mean just to make me feel better.” 

“What are you doing? Don’t--” 

You scoop up your purse, trying to get to the front door as fast as your gelatinous legs will allow. More tears are streaming down your face now and you don’t need him to see what he’s done to you—to see how much you care what he thinks. 

“It’s fine. Thanks for the coffee, I’ll see you around—” 

A hand around your wrist stops you in your tracks 

“Stop. Just... please give me a second to talk, okay?” 

With nothing left to give, you turn to him. 

“Don’t be mean, Spencer. Don’t act like you liked me too. That makes me feel... so much worse.” 

He takes a deep, shaky breath, as if steeling himself. Tawny eyes bore into your soul, and you realize that there is so much sheer nervous energy radiating off of him it’s infectious. Your heart begins to pound as he speaks. 

“I’m not doing that. I’m being an idiot, because you just told me that you don’t feel that way about me anymore but... but I do. And I have to tell you now because for six months I tortured myself wondering why you would flirt with me so much when you were hammered and then act like nothing happened the next day. There were so many times I almost told you how I felt but I didn’t and now I am because even if it ruins our friendship you need to know that somebody... that I wanted to be that person for you. I still do.” 

Your heart is like an unmoored zeppelin in your chest, bumping against your esophagus and threatening to either burst or jump out of your mouth. You take your chances, whispering so quietly it’s almost inaudible. 

“You... you like me?” 

“Yes,” Spencer sighs. “I have liked you for a very long time. And I’m sorry—” 

Whatever ridiculous thing he was going to apologize for, you don’t give him the chance. Instead you launch yourself at him, capturing his lips in a kiss that feels so much better than it’d ever been in your fantasies because it’s real. You hear his sharp intake of breath, but it only takes a second for him to respond, cradling your face in his hands like you’re the entire world. For a moment, time bends. Years of longing, of buried dreams crash into the present in a brilliant, dazzling explosion.

And then, as quickly as it started, he pulls away. The absence of his touch is like a vacuum, so much worse now that you know exactly how it feels to have his lips on yours, even if it was only for a few seconds. How the hell did you live like that for so long? How are you supposed to live like that ever again?

“You’re not thinking clearly,” he breathes, tilting his head back toward the ceiling like he’s barely holding onto his self control. “You just want someone to comfort you, I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re in an emotionally vulnerable state and confided in me which is manufacturing a false sense of attachment—” 

You grab his wrists, which still graze your jaw.

“Spencer, stop intellectualizing for thirty seconds. I promise you I am thinking clearly.” 

“You said you used to like me, past tense—” 

“Yeah, I did. Do you believe every single murderer who says he didn’t do it?” 

“No, but—” 

“Have you ever heard the phrase; a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts?” 

“Of course I have.” 

“Then what more could you possibly need to be convinced that I really like you? I already kissed you! What is stopping you?” 

Another deep breath is taken by him that seems to suck all the air out of the quiet room. Briefly, you wonder if you’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake. If you really do like him so much more than he could ever like you.  

Until he looks back down, eyes so golden-brown in the dim light, so kind and full of affectionate concern as he carefully assesses every square centimeter of your face, looking for... well, you’re not exactly sure what. It’s like he’s extracting every thought from your head, turning them over like sun-warmed stones until he finds what he’s looking for. He smooths his hands over your hair, brushing strands away from your teary face. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of holding your breath, he speaks. 

“I just want you to believe what I believe about you. But I don’t want you to have to rely on me or anyone else for your own self-worth.” 

“Well, don’t you think very highly of yourself,” you tease with a sniffle. He laughs—it's quiet, but his smile is so bright without even trying that suddenly you can’t remember why you’ve ever been sad. The small miracle of his laughter makes you feel so light, and you realize it has nothing to do with the way he makes you feel about yourself. It has everything to do with who he is. 

Once the giggles die down, you tentatively mirror his hold on your face. 

“Spencer, I don’t like you because you like me. I’ve liked you for an embarrassingly long time. I liked you enough that I gave myself a severe hangover at least once a week for three months just so I could have an excuse to flirt shamelessly with you.” 

A half-sad smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, and he gently swipes under your eyes. 

“You never had to do that. I would have welcomed your sober brazen flirting with open arms.” 

“Well... do you believe me?” you plead. His amber eyes shine. 

“I do.” 

“Will you kiss me?” 

“If that’s what you want.” 

You nod, rising on your toes to meet him halfway. 

When your lips meet again, it is sweet, and honest, and slow, and deep. Still, there is no desperation--no race to an imagined finish line, no clash of teeth and pawing hands. It is a kiss for the sake of it—as if it were the greatest intimacy. Not a precursor to sharing a bed, but something bigger than that in and of its own. Something just as worthy and important. For the first time, you think you’re beginning to understand romance. And while you wouldn’t mind if things did escalate, you also know that Spencer knows that’s not what matters right now. Because he actually understands you—he actually cares. He will wait until you understand that you mean so much more than that to him.

To that end, he pulls away, gently supplanting his absence with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“It would be polite of me to offer you a ride home, wouldn’t it?” he whispers, like it’s the last thing he wants to do. You bite the inside of your cheek, coming up with reasons not to go. One ridiculous one arises from the depths of your memory that you know he won’t be able to say no to. 

“Or... I could stay here, and we could watch one of those nerdy foreign films you’re always talking about?” 

A slow, perfect, high-watt smile blossoms on his face, and you know you’ve said exactly the right thing. 

“Nerdy? Oh, my darling girl... Soviet-era filmography is far from nerdy. небесная машина will completely defy what you thought you knew about the life of an average Russian villager in the 1950’s.” 

“Oh, good. Because I’ve really been meaning to change the way I think about the average 1950’s Russian villager,” you smile, already closing in to kiss him again. 

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

epilogue

Three hours later, you’re crying because the life of the average Russian villager in the 1950’s was so much worse than you’d previously thought. 

“It was good, right?” Spencer asks as the credits roll over a bleak snowy sepia landscape, leaning back to get a better look at you. You sit up from where you’d been leaning against him, furiously wiping your eyes. 

“It was terrible! Why didn’t you tell me that everyone except the kid dies in the end?!” 

“Because that’s the whole point of the movie!” he laughs, pulling you back into him. “I’m sorry. I probably should have explained how depressing this entire era of film was outside of the US.” 

“And also how long the movies were. I was not prepared for how many five minute long clips of empty fields there were going to be.” 

“You’re right,” he ammends, wrapping his arms around you in a way that gives you butterflies and makes you sleepy at the same time. “Next time we can watch whatever you want to watch.” 

Time passes like that—you in his arms, watching weak light slowly flood the room with half-lidded eyes and listening to the sounds of the city waking up from the street below, underscoring the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Thoughts float by like leaves on the ever-flowing current of your mind, and you’re happy to let them pass until one in particular catches your attention. 

“Spencer?” 

He hums, like he’d been deep in his own proverbial river of thought. 

“What does pulchritude mean?” 

It takes him a split second to remember the bit of conversation from earlier to which you are referring, but when he does, he chuckles, running his hand over your messy hair. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

And so you let it float away. 

[nmakii]

maki i beg you to write rin and s/o that also has sibling issues.. like not the "oh my sibling also left me lolol" issues like.. they're always gonna be in their sibling's shadow no matter what they do.. and their sibling absolutely hates their guts.. please..

I THINK I’VE SEEN THIS FILM BEFORE

— rin itoshi x reader with sibling issues

on behalf of older siblings, i side with sae :x

— rin itoshi

rins having one of those moments where he’s rethinking everything,,, like, he starts rethinking all about the times he’s been harsh to you. lowk start feeling bad :x

he’d try to be nicer. keyword: try. if you’re doing something braindead stupid, hes still gonna call you out hahaha

he’ll be more encouraging—ish… whenever you’re half-assing something (like example studies…), he wont be as harsh as he is with like bachira and the top 3… he’d go like “cmon… you know how to solve this. …do you need a hint..?”

and if on the very un-rare occasion, you do something that pisses him off, he would… do nothing! i know, shocking. he lobs u after all <3

this is only like… 1/4 because he feels bad for you and how your family’s treated you, and 3/4 because he wants to become the person he wanted sae to be.

hehe its actually pretty healing for the both of you. sometimes if the atmosphere is light and kind enough, you might even get him to smile a little bit :x <3

12:45. and you and rin were still up, studying for your math exam tomorrow.

“ugh..! i cant do it, rin. i don’t get it! y’know what? ill just fail..!” you frown, head in your hands. rin sighs. he really wanted to go to sleep, but he promised you that he’d help you prepare, and he has to follow through.

“d—ugh… dont be negative. i know you’ll be able to pass.” he pats you on the head. “do you wanna… review the concepts one more time, and solve one more problem before bed? i can help you study one more time in the library, okay?” he offered.

“mm… i need a breakkk..!” you groan. a break would mean having to stay up later… “i… fine… i need a break too…” rin groans. “..! what the hell does that mean..?!” you lash out at him, face pouty with a frown.

“…im joking. but, i am getting tired…” he says. he takes note of your guilty face. “i… sorry for keeping you up, rin… after this, you can sleep…”

fuck.

that face was making him feel guilty. “i didn’t mean it like that. im just saying its late, and you need to sleep early if you want your brain functioning.” he rested his hand on your shoulder. “cmon, let’s take a five-minute break and get back to this. okay?”

you nodded.

1:36. you were finally done, and much more confident than you were an hour ago. “yes, i got it!” you cheered. rin’s lips curled up at your enthusiasm. “it’s late now. get plenty of rest, okay? don’t panic, and just do your best.” he says.

you look at him like a child at their new pet; full of adoration and affection. you quickly ambush him with a tight hug, causing rin to wheeze out, the air in his lungs being kicked out in an instant. “ack..! ghh..! l..let me go…” rin heaves.

eventually, you do let go, choosing to move to a looser hug around his neck. “thank you, rin…” you smile. something in your gratitude stirs rin’s heart. as if the past was gone, and all that was left was the future.

“i..it’s no problem, okay? just go rest already, you need sleep…” his words and body language conflicting; his words pushing you away, and his hands pulling you closer as his lips find the crown of your head. he reluctantly lets you go sooner or later and helps you to clean up the various papers and textbooks.

as rin puts away his belongings, you cuddle up with him. “my favorite private tutor…” you snicker. rin rolls his eyes. “private tutor? that implies im getting paid to do this for you…” he frowns. “what?! my payment is my love for you..! isn’t that enough..?!” you argue back.

rin tried to hide the laugh that comes from his throat, but it’s quite obvious from the smile on his face. “…fine, i guess so. but, a little more loving wouldn’t hurt either.”

[residentflamingo]

Late Night Talking

Hirai Momo x fem! reader

Summary ———> Y/N can’t fall asleep, so she has a late-night conversation with her wife to help her relax.

Genre: hurt/comfort & fluff

Warnings: mentions of loneliness

A/N: I just had to write this one out. I haven’t been able to get this scenario out of my head for weeks! I hope you enjoy this little drabble I wrote out <3 You can also check out my other stuff if you would like! It is very much appreciated ❤️

Word count ———> 2,360

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

→ 2:00 AM

You hated not being able to sleep on nights like this these.

You were currently sitting up in bed, restless, trying to do whatever you could to fall back asleep. You tried counting sheep, blinking your eyes rapidly to get them tired, and turning over to your side, but still nothing.

Meanwhile, your wife Momo, was sound asleep right next to you. Her chest rising slowly up and down, mouth slightly open with drool coming out of it, and one of her hands interlocked with yours. She was for sure sound asleep, and you were also a teeny bit jealous that she could fall asleep faster than you could. But of course, you still didn’t mind the cute sight of her sleeping.

Today had been one of those days where life kicked just you in the ass over and over, and you couldn’t do anything about it. Work had been really busy today, and it brought you to the edge of a nervous breakdown just waiting to happen.

Your boss kept stacking an endless amount of papers on your desk, demanding that each paper be finished at a certain time. Along with your coworkers who kept pushing your limits, trying to constantly talk to you and be a distraction while you were working. You usually love them to death, but today just wasn't one of those days.

Work was one of the main things you were stressed about, but other kinds of thoughts had been running through your mind as well. About four hours ago, when you got in bed comfy under the covers, your mind started racing and thinking about things that worried you even more. Th negative thoughts had taken over, bringing your mood down severely. In your mind, you were fully convinced that you felt lonely and bothersome to others.

Lately, you didn't feel like you had anyone to turn to. Your friends were good people, but they just weren't good listeners, so you felt like you couldn't tell them anything really personal. With Momo, it was easy for her to tell when you were feeling off. During hard times, she had always been a shoulder for you to cry on, and you would never forget it. But lately, it wasn’t so easy for you to reach out to her.

She had just gotten done with the world tour, and she was absolutely exhausted. You felt like you would be another burden to her if you were to tell her about your struggles. So you tried to suffer in silence for as long as you could. But it was eating you up inside, and it was becoming too much. In the back of your mind, you hoped Momo would notice first instead of you trying to come forward about it.

While you were deep in thought, you didn't realize that Momo had slowly woken up beside you. She fluttered her eyes open, only to find you sitting up and not asleep. She grew worried, so then she shifted around in bed, rubbed her the sleep out of her eyes, and began to speak to you.

“Hey, what-” Momo muttered in a low whisper, causing you to jump in surprise at the sudden voice coming from beside you.

“Ahhh! Oh my gosh, Momo. You scared the shit out of me! Don’t scare me like that…”

Momo chuckled, “Sorry honey…” She slowly leans over, and gives you a soft kiss on your forehead. When she pulls away, she brings her hand up next to your face and gently moves your hair behind your ears.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just wondering, what are you doing up this late, hm?”

You smiled at her sweet gesture, and then sighed at the thought of how long you’ve been trying to sleep for.

“I’ve been trying to sleep for a few hours now… But no matter how hard I try I just can’t fall asleep.”

"Hmmm... maybe I can help with that. Talk to me honey, what's been on your mind lately? Is there something else bothering you?"

You got nervous, knowing you had to finally confess to her how you felt. " Well, I don't know... I don't really want to tell you because I know you just got off tour, so I wouldn't really want to bother you with-"

Momo quickly interrupted you and put a single finger over your lips saying, "Nope, shush shush. That doesn't matter at all. No matter what happens with my job, or how busy I am, you are always my top priority. You are my wife after all honey. I will help you with whatever you need."

You smiled, feeling so thankful that your wife is as sweet as she is. She always makes you feel loved with her kind words and affirmations. You exhaled a long shaky breath and looked up at the ceiling trying to think of what to say to her.

Expressing your feelings out loud wasn't always your strong suit, but tonight, your wife made you feel as if that wasn't ever a problem in the first place. Momo sat up and layed on her side, looking at you intently, making sure to give you all of her attention.

"Well... lately I've been feeling really stressed out from work and I don't know how to deal with it. My boss keeps loading me with so much work, giving me unbelievable dates for when I have to finish them. He doesn't do that to anyone else in the office but me. It's like he hates my guts or something... I-I also feel really pressured, since next week I have to present a very important slideshow for a meeting with all of the advisors and the CEO. I have a really bad feeling that I'm going to fail and lose my job. Even worse I might disappoint everyone, including my parents."

Momo pouted after hearing your confession, feeling sad thinking about you being stressed out. She hated seeing you this way, especially since it was happening right under her nose.

"Oh, baby I'm so sorry. I've always hated your boss too, he gives me the creeps. And, I know exactly how you feel about worrying if you'll disappoint people. It’s the worst kind of feeling. We can’t control how people feel most of the time, but we can control how we rise above from the mistakes we have made. So if someone gets disappointed in you, they were never supporting you fully in the first place. I know you’re gonna do great on your presentation. You’re the smartest person I know, and you’ll figure it out like always. Just do it like how you always do, and I assure you those businessmen will be impressed. And if you fail, I will be right beside you to comfort you, and we can figure it out together. If your parents do get mad... let them. They need to understand that mistakes are normal in life and that it's not the end of the world. You are a hard worker Y/N, don't ever forget that."

After Momo was done talking, she softly grasped your hand and brought it up to her lips, giving it a sweet and loving kiss. She then looked back up at you and smiled, "I love you so much Y/N. I know you're gonna do great next week.”

“Thank you, honey... But there’s something else I have to tell you too.”

Momo tilted her head in confusion, “Hmm? What is it?.”

“Well... lately I’ve been feeling really lonely and I’m not really sure why. It’s not because of you at all, I just have these negative thoughts that go through my mind sometimes making me think that nobody cares about me, and that I’m a burden to everyone. It’s really bothering me and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Your eyes started watering up over the emotional confession you just shared, and tears began to flood out of them. Momo quickly noticed, so she wrapped her arms around you to bring to closer to her embrace. “No no no, it’s okay honey don’t cry.”

She got a little bit emotional too, seeing you in such a state like this. Momo loved you with every single fiber and cell in her body, so seeing you like this really made her tear up inside. She held you for a little while rubbing your back and saying sweet nothings in your ear to help calm you down some. “I love you so much... You’re so sweet and kind. You’re so beautiful. I’m so lucky to have you as my wife.”

Not long after, she moved her hands to both sides of your face and gave your forehead a soft and loving kiss. She looked you in the eyes reassuringly and said, “You are so loved, I promise you. I wouldn’t be able to function without you. Please don’t ever hesitate to come to me when you’re struggling okay? I don’t care if I just had a long day at work, or if I’m on tour, I’ll always be there for you. Your friends, the girls, all love and care about you very much.”

She gave you another peck on the lips, and rubbed her fingers along the sides of your arms. You could tell by looking in her eyes that she was trying so hard not to cry, and that she meant every single word she said.

“You are never, ever a bother to me. In fact, you make my life so much more brighter, and happier every day. You’re the reason I get up every day and get so excited to do things. All because of you. You are so special to me Y/N I don’t know what I would ever do without you.”

You smiled a chuckled a little bit, remembering when she first proposed to you at a beach. You two had been walking on the beach for some time, when she all of a sudden gets down on one knee and asks you to marry her. You said yes of course, and gave her the biggest hug while she spun you around in circles.

The funny part about this story is that right after all of this happened, Momo had seen a couple of crabs coming towards her, and got spooked making her immediately run off with you still in her arms. She had sprinted all the way back up to the shared hotel room you guys were staying at. You couldn’t stop laughing for about thirty minutes after the little incident, and that had turned into one of your favorite core memories with her.

Momo smiled after she realized she had made you giggle a little bit, “Hey what are you laughing about silly?”

You leaned into her embrace a little bit more, falling more in love with her with each word she said to you. She always knew exactly what to say in order to make you feel better.

“Oh nothing, I’m just remembering the time you ran off on the beach because some crabs scared you.”

Momo laughed along with you and leaned back away from you a little bit so she could look at you directly. Her hands rested next to your hips, just rubbing small circles around them.

“Okay listen, at least I had a good reason to run away from them! Crabs are scary...”

“Honey there were only two crabs on the beach. Two….”

You looked at her with your head tilted, questioning what her actual argument was. She was being so cute you couldn’t take it.

“My point exactly. Any crab is a threat to me! I am not trying to get pinched by one any time soon.”

You started laughing again uncontrollably and even snorted a little bit, leaving Momo sitting there stunned. She had no clue what to do now. All she could do was just stare at you in awe, and listen to your adorable laugh she always loves to hear.

About thirty seconds later once you were done laughing, you sat up again and gave Momo one of the biggest hugs you could ever muster up.

“I love you so much Momo. Thank you for always making me feel loved.”

Momo’s eyes teared up a little bit again, and she hugged you even tighter, not wanting this moment to ever end with you.

“You’re welcome Y/N. I'm always happy to help you."

You rested your head comfortably on her shoulder and smiled, feeling your eyes get drowsy from the comforting aura Momo constantly gave off. She quickly noticed and gave your forehead a gentle kiss once again. She whispered, "You getting sleepy honey?"

You nodded and mumbled, "Mhmm..."

Momo smiled and chuckled at your sleepy tone of voice. She then shuffled around in bed, and held onto you as she layed her body back down flat on the mattress. Then she pulled the covers over you two, and layed you on top of her so you could be comfy. She kissed the top of you head one last time, and rubbed circles around your back.

“Good night honey… I love you so much. Wake me up if you need anything okay?”

You smiled and hummed a response, “Okay… I love you too.”

Before Momo had tried to fall back asleep, she watched you for a little while, rubbing your back and making sure that you were okay. It broke her heart that you had been feeling this way for some time. But she swore to herself that she would pay closer attention, and would help you the best way she could this time around.

After a while, she finally felt content enough to fall back asleep, and gently wrapped her arms around you, closing her eyes knowing you were safe with her. The quiet sounds of your breathing perfectly matched with Momo’s heartbeat that you were hearing underneath you. You two had always worked in harmony no matter the situation. And right now, you and Momo were both asleep knowing everything would be okay.

You were no longer worried about that stupid presentation at work, and all of the papers you had to file that week. As long as you had your wife by your side, you knew that no matter what obstacle you had to face you guys could overcome it together.

[widowsistersandfriends]

Sisterly Love

Request: hi! could you do a fic with nat and yelena? i’ve been missing these sisters sooo much lately. maybe yelena is having a bad day so natasha gives her cheer up tickles (which yelena secretly loves) or something like that? with some gentle back tickles? if not, no worries! love your fics so much, you’re an amazingly talented writer!

Note: Thank you so much for the kind words and for this request! I appreciate you being patient with me getting this fic out. Nat and Yelena are so cute, and I love writing for their close sister bond. Enjoy!

Word Count: 857

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Yelena was having a rough day. It seemed like luck wasn’t on her side at all. First, Fanny pooped inside the house this morning, then Yelena found a bug in her cereal, and then she had stubbed her toe while walking to dump out her bowl.

The blonde was now on the couch, pouting and not doing anything to avoid any more bad luck scenarios. However, Natasha had noticed and was concerned since her sister was usually goofy and planning mischievous pranks. 

“What’s wrong Yelena?” Natasha asked softly, taking a seat next to her.

“It’s nothing Natasha,” Yelena said flatly, as Natasha knew something was wrong since her sister usually referred to her as ‘Poser.’

“Yelena, I know you better than anyone and I know something is up. You can trust me with whatever it is,” Natasha said, softly placing a hand on her sister’s shoulder.

Yelena knew it was true, but the only thing holding her back was embarrassment. It seemed silly to dwell over the small things that had happened today. Most of them were inconveniences but not anything that had hurt her or others. 

Yelena just shook her head and scooted away from her sister, much to Natasha’s dismay. However, being the excellent spy she was, Natasha could feel and sense the mischief coming off of her sister. She wasn’t in her grumpy mood anymore. She was in her ‘tough act’ mood.

“Guess I have to cheer you up somehow right?” Natasha said, following her sister.

The slight hitch in breath from Yelena was all Natasha needed to know that her sister was trapped and knew she was in for some form of tickling. 

“Natasha don’t!” Yelena gasped, as Natasha poked her ribs.

“Oh so she speaks!” Natasha teased, gently spidering her fingers up and down her sister’s sides.

“Nahahahat stahahahap,” Yelena giggled, squirming on the couch, but not pushing her sister’s hands away.

“You like this don’t you?” Natasha asked, as Yelena struggled to hold in her giggles.

“I wanna hear that happy laughter from my baby sister again,” Natasha cooed, as she gently dug into Yelena’s ribs. Despite it being gentle tickling, this made Yelena belly laugh.

“AHAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHATASHA PLEHEHEHEASE,” the blonde cried, half-heartedly swatting at Natasha’s hands.

“Please what?” Natasha asked.

Yelena continued laughing without saying anything, which Natasha knew that meant that her sister was enjoying this and didn’t want her to stop. She knew the minute she wanted her to stop she would be very adamant about it. 

“Are you all cheered up?” Natasha asked, skittering her nails over Yelena’s feet. 

“YEHEHES IHIHI AHAHAM,” Yelena cackled while trying to kick her sister.

After letting her sister recover, Natasha finally asked what was bothering Yelena.

“It’s dumb…I just had so many minor inconveniences that it put me in a bad mood for the rest of the day,” Yelena explained.

“Is that why you were moping on the couch?” Natasha asked.

“I wasn’t moping. I just didn’t want to have any more negative things happen to me today,” Yelena insisted.

“I understand why you felt that way, and I’m sorry all those things happened to you. But luckily those seem like isolated incidents, so they probably won’t happen too often,” Natasha reassured her.

“I guess so,” Yelena agreed.

“Come here and snuggle with me. It’ll make your day better,” Natasha said, patting a spot next to her. Yelena quickly crawled over and snuggled into her sister.

“You know what else was an isolated incident today?” Yelena asked after a bit. 

“What?”

“You being right,” Yelena said, as Natasha used one arm to trap Yelena and the other to scratch and tickle Yelena’s back.

“POHOHOSER NOHOHO,” Yelena squealed, jerking and squirming on the couch.

“What? I’m just giving you back scratches,” Natasha said innocently. Most people would see it as back scratches, but with Yelena, she was so ticklish that any trace or scratch would elicit giggles and laughter from her. 

“Don’t move,” Natasha teased, as she continued to scratch her nails up and down Yelena’s spine, causing the younger sister to shriek with laughter.

“Well you moved so I guess I have to punish you even more,” Natasha said, as she now focused on doing quick wiggles over the back of Yelena’s ribs. The blonde absolutely lost it, falling into hysterical laughter that could be heard from outside.

“Geez, your back is that bad?” Natasha asked teasingly, occasionally tickling her sides.

“Say I’m right all the time and it’ll be over,” Natasha stated, as she continued to drag her nails all around her back.

“FIHIHINE yohohou’re alwahahahays rihiHIHIGHT,” Yelena barely managed to squeal out.

“Now was that so hard?” The redhead asked, knowing that Yelena loved to say certain things just so she would get tickles.

Yelena pouted and returned to her position to cuddle Natasha.

“Feeling better?” Natasha asked.

“Yes,” Yelena said, stopping herself from calling her sister a poser for once.

The two sisters cuddled on the couch and napped. Eventually they were woken up by the sound of Yelena’s stomach growling, which they both knew what that meant. It was time for macaroni and cheese. With hot sauce.

[becauseplot]

So. Today's Inktordem. Did I absolutely bite off more than I could chew? Yes. Did it turn out? Kind of! But it's written and NOT past midnight so I'll take it. Also, reminder I swapped days 3 and 5. This will definitely not be the last time I shuffle things around :]

Spoilers for OPD lore! (Not sure about which episode in particular you need to have watched...? I think up through episode 5 is enough but proceed with caution anyway.) Additional TWs for implied/referenced child abuse and implied/referenced critical illness. Let me know if I missed anything! <3

DAY 5 (3) – ORFANATO

1999

Cesar pants as he races up the hill. Running through bushes, stumbling past rocks, dodging trees. Eventually, the slope gets steep enough that the trees fall away, afternoon sun hitting the back of his neck, and Cesar has drop down onto his hands to grab old roots sticking out of the earth for help.

Dirt kicks down. A little ways up, climbing much faster, Bruno has paused to look back at him. He grins. “C’mon!” And he keeps on climbing.

Cesar adjusts his backpack and gives chase. He doesn’t manage to catch up to Bruno, but Bruno is still grinning when he leans over the crest of the hill and offers Cesar a hand up. He scrambles up the last of the incline and stands, spinning around in slow circles.

“Woahhhhhh,” Cesar whispers, taking it all in. “Bruno, this is awesome! You can see everything!”

And you can. There’s the street below, winding around the side of the hill, and Bruno’s bus stop further along it. Down the slope are the houses, the shops, their school at the edge of it; cars weaving between it all like little beetles in the grass, people walking the streets like ants; and far away, towards the setting sun, the forest at the other end of town that sweeps over the distant hills.

“Pretty cool, right?” Bruno says.

“Really cool! How did you find this?”

“I dunno, I just kinda found it. I started looking around in the bushes behind the bus stop, and then I found that trail, and then I kept climbing and—” He throws his arms out, gesturing to the horizons— “I was here! Oh, and…”

He turns and squints against the afternoon sun, shielding his eyes. Suddenly, he points. “There. That’s where I live.”

Cesar comes over and peers over his shoulder, where Bruno is pointing. He shields his eyes with a hand. “…The woods?”

“Yeah. Well, the orphanage is in the woods, obviously. You just can’t see it from here because all the trees are in the way. But it should be riiiight there.” He pauses. He turns a bit. “Or actually, there. Or there. Or—“

He whacks Cesar in the face with his arm. Cesar stumbles back. “Ow!”

“Hey!”

“What the heck!”

“You were in my way!”

They devolve into giggles, Cesar cradling his aching nose, beaming. He happens to look at the bottom of the hill, and he gasps. “Bruno! Your bus!”

Bruno’s eyes go wide. He trots to the edge of the hill, where Cesar is looking. “…Oh.”

“We can run!” Cesar says. He sits down at the edge of the hill to start sliding down the slope. “We can be quick, we can catch it.”

“I don’t think so.”

Cesar looks back. Bruno doesn’t seem happy. “Won’t you get in trouble, or…?”

“Uh…” Bruno tugs at the hems of his hoodie. “It’s probably fine. The Sisters don’t care that much, I’ve been home late before.” Bruno shrugs and gives a small smile. “I like being here more anyway. The rooms get really noisy.”

Bruno comes and plops himself down beside Cesar, shoulders bumping. Though the sun is bright without the shade of the trees, the wind is a hair cooler up here, a breath of relief in the cloying heat of the approaching summer.

“Anyway!” Bruno says. “You know my secret spot now! And no body else does. That means we can come up here and hang out, just the two of us, whenever we want.”

Cesar’s eyes go wide. His chest feels light. “Whenever we want?”

~*~

2002

“So that’s…that’s negative eight, right?”

“No. When you subtract a negative, it becomes positive, remember?”

“Rrrright.” Bruno flips his pencil around and erases his work. The eraser smudges dark across the page, staining it. “Awh, no.”

“Hold on.” Cesar puts his history worksheet down where he’s laid his hoodie out on the grass and plops his pocket calculator on it so it won’t blow away in the breeze. He rummages through his backpack and eventually finds a spare pencil sitting at the bottom of his bag. “Try this one. I don’t think the eraser is dried out.”

“Thanks.” Bruno reaches up from where he’s laid out on his stomach in the grass and takes the pencil. He erases more of the page, cleaner this time. “So that means it’s negative four.”

“Yep.”

“And I have to…divide. To get X by itself.”

“Yep.”

“So uh, negative twelve divided by negative four…” Bruno starts scribbling. “…is negative three.”

Cesar tilts his head to either side, smiling a little. “Ehhh…”

“What do you—OH. Right. Right. Negative divided by negative is positive.” Bruno flops onto his front, face planting into his worksheet. “Why is this so confusing,” he mumbles into the algebra.

“I think you got it, dude.”

Bruno lets out a long groan. Cesar pats his head. Bruno whines and bats Cesar’s hand away like a particularly despondent cat. Cesar giggles.

Bruno lifts his head out of his paper with a deep breath. “Okay.” He picks up his pencil. “Negative twelve divided by negative four is positive three. Which is…” He draws a box around the answer. “…equal to X. And that one’s done.”

“Yeah! See, I think you’re getting it now.”

“Maybe.” Bruno sighs. “Thanks for helping me. I—I really don’t get this stuff, I don’t know why.”

“Of course, it’s all good.” Cesar thinks. “Though… What about the older kids at the orphanage? They must’ve taken this math before.”

Bruno looks away, picking at the grass with a scowl. “None of the older kids ever want to help me. They just call me stupid.”

Cesar frowns, a sudden anger sweeping through him. “What the fuck, that’s not fair!”

Bruno gasps. “Cesar!”

“What? It’s not! You’re smart! I mean, you get all this history stuff a lot better than I do. And you’re really good at chess! And came up with a reason for why we were late so freaking Mrs. Leite didn’t give us another detention.”

Bruno winces. “I mean, I told her you had to help me wash bird poop off the front of my shirt in front of the whole class. And now everyone’s being mean and weird about it.”

“Better than another detention.” And better than the truth, which was that he was panicking and crying behind the boy’s bathroom for the whole of recess just because the cafeteria was a little too crowded today and Bruno was there trying to help him calm down. Forget what Bruno thinks, Cesar feels stupid. “I’m so sick of doing garbage pick-up on the yard.”

Bruno picks up his pencil and spins it around. “Me too…”

Cesar swallows at that. His face gets a little hot. “You don’t have to stay when I get all…you know, panicky. Especially if it’s gonna make you late. I’m fine by myself.”

Bruno stops spinning his pencil. “But then I’d leave you alone?”

“Yeah?”

“Doesn’t that usually make it worse?”

Yes. “I’ll be fine, I mean, it always stops eventually.”

“Or I could stay, and it gets better sooner.” Bruno shrugs. “I don’t really care.”

Cesar hesitates. “But don’t you get in trouble with the Sisters? Or the Father?”

Bruno huffs, dropping his chin into his hands. “Everyone’s always in trouble for some reason. At least I’m not one of the ones getting into fights.” Bruno’s mouth screws up, eyes firmly not meeting Cesar’s. He looks out at the hills below, towards the forest. “Yeah…”

Bruno doesn’t talk an awful lot about what the Sisters and the Father do when they get in trouble, but he’s noticed Bruno sometimes comes to school wincing the day after they’re sent home with a detention slip. Cesar is scared to know what getting into fights would lead to.

When Cesar comes home with a detention slip, his mom just gets worried. She knows why he has it.

“Uh,” says Cesar, voice small. “Sorry. I shouldn’t mention it.”

Bruno just shrugs again.

Cesar’s foot bounces where his ankles are crossed. Then, he uncrosses his legs and slides down onto his front like Bruno, chin rested in his hands. Cesar stares at him. And stares at him. And stares at him.

Bruno, eventually, gets his eyes off that forest and looks at him. Another beat of intense staring, and Bruno makes a confused face. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re being weird.”

“I’m just looking.”

They stare at each other, contest.

Cesar blows air in Bruno’s eyes.

“Hey!” Bruno laughs. “What are you doing?”

“Thinking about the homework,” Cesar replies. “Do you wanna keep going?”

“Ehh…” Bruno scratches the back of his neck. “Only if you want to keep helping me. Don’t you have to go home soon?”

“Mom only really cares that I’m back home before it’s dark.” And it’s true. She doesn’t mind when she knows he’s hanging out with Bruno. Cesar takes Bruno’s worksheet and spins it around so he can read it. “So which one are you on now?”

~*~

2005

“…But she kept going on and on about going to the neighbor’s party, so then I just yelled at her to leave me alone and walked out. Went up to my room.”

“I uh, I take it she didn’t like that?”

“Ha, no.”

Bruno huffs a dry laugh from where he sits in the grass beside him. “Jeez. So then what happened?”

“Nothing. I didn’t come down, she didn’t come up. I went to bed and by the time I came down this morning she already left for work.”

“No, dude…”

“Yeah.” Cesar sighs. He keeps his eyes on the clustered city lights, burning bright against the black outline of the forest. “So I guess that’s why I wanted to stay out here tonight. I didn’t want to be sitting at home just…waiting for her to get back, you know?”

Bruno hums.

There’s a silence that follows. The crickets fill it. In the darkness of night, with his closest friend sitting beside him, Cesar finally finds the words.

“I just—I don’t like fighting with my mom. You know that. I feel awful afterwards. And then I start missing my dad, and then I feel even worse. I know—I know she’s just worried that I don’t have a lot of friends because it’s just her and I, you know? A-And I know she’s more stressed than usual because I overheard her talking to Mrs. Couto on the phone yesterday about how they’re doing layoffs at work—“

“Cesar…”

“—and she’s—well she’s newer than a lot of the staff there so there’s a good chance she’ll get cut first like last time…”

Cesar scrubs his hands up and down his face. “Ugh! It’s just shit right now, dude. I hate it.”

Bruno bumps his shoulder lightly. Almost as if on accident. “I’m sorry.”

Cesar sighs. “It’s fine. Thanks. I’m—I don’t know. It’s fine.”

“Is she… Going to be worried about you being out this late?”

“I’ve been out later. She’d guess I’m with you anyhow, so.” Cesar shrugs. “She won’t be worried.”

“…Right,” Bruno drawls after a moment. Cesar looks at him, confused by his tone. Bruno is grinning. “Because we’re so good at keeping out of trouble.”

Cesar gestures sharply at him. “She doesn’t need to know about the bike incident. She doesn’t. What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her.”

“Like how you suck at running?”

“Dude.”

Bruno chuckles, hiding his smile behind his hand.

“Don’t even joke about that,” Cesar says, even as a smile pulls at his lips. “She can’t know, because if she does, then she’ll tell Mr. Campos and then we'll be so fucked.”

“Relax, relax, I won’t say anything, I promise. We said to the grave, right?”

“To the grave, Bruno. Or Mr. Campos will actually murder us.”

Cesar stretches his arms out in front of him. He notices that moisture in the night air isn’t quite as dense as usual. With the breeze up here, it’s refreshing. “You know, if I ever, like, smooth things over with my mom, you should come over for lunch again sometime.”

Bruno chuckles. It gives Cesar pause; it’s a sadder sound this time. “I don’t think the Sisters will be letting me out much after this.”

Cesar grimaces. Ah yeah, the Sisters’ curfew. “Are you going to be alright?”

“Yeah. I’ll just have to play extra good for a while, you know?”

No, Cesar…really doesn’t. Cesar leans back on his hands and looks to Bruno. He can’t quite say the question, but…

Bruno gets the idea. He rubs the back of his neck. “It’s…better here than it is back there. The Sisters and the Father have been really weird recently, more strict about random things. Kish says they’re trying to ‘keep appearances’ for Mister Fritz.” Bruno sighs. “Everyone’s more on edge than usual.” He looks down, picking at the grass. “And I’m…”

“…You’re what?” Cesar asks.

Bruno stares at out at the city for a moment. He stares out at the forest beyond it. He hugs his arms around his knees. “…Nothing. It’s nothing. Things are a lot right now, is all.”

Cesar suddenly isn’t sure what to say anymore. He bumps Bruno’s shoulder with his own. Something is just slightly left of everything else. Cesar can hear the wind through the trees.

“I like it up here, though,” murmurs Bruno.

“…I do too.”

Cesar tilts his head back and stares up at the stars in the sky. They can’t see many, not with the glare from the city down below, but a few break through the void, little pinpricks of light.

He looks at Bruno. “Bruno?”

Bruno looks back at him. “Yeah?”

Cesar swallows. “…Do you ever feel like you just—don’t know what to do?”

~*~

2007

First he had to make up that quiz, then Mr. Medina wanted him to run those packets down to the main office, then Marcos stopped him in the hall about fucking math club again—it’s always everything at once, isn’t it? Cesar is huffing by the time he starts to climb the slope, passing his hands over the roots as he darts up.

“Bruno!” he calls ahead. “Sorry I’m late, I swear I…”

But the hilltop is empty. Just the grass and the late afternoon sun. Cesar stands at the edge of the slope heaving for breath, backpack falling off his shoulders, and stares at a little sheet of paper tacked to earth with the sharp end of a bent paperclip. Cesar stoops over and picks it up.

Sorry I missed you. I had to head back to the orphanage. I know you said you wanted to hang out, but you know how it is with curfew. (A short, scribbled-out phrase. “I can’t something.”) Maybe some other time.

—Bruno

It’s the most words Bruno has “spoken” to him in the last several weeks.

Cesar stares at the paper in his hands. He crumples it and throws it at the ground. Then he picks it up and un-crumples it and sits his ass down at the edge of the slope and does not cry about it. And then he goes home.

(Maybe some other time?)

~*~

2009

Cesar climbs the slope, beads of sweat on the back of his neck. It’s easier if you run up the side, let the momentum carry you part of the way, but…he doesn’t feel it today. Everything inside him is shaking, his breath thin.

And yet he climbs, and he sits down in the dewy grass, not giving a damn that it soaks through his pants. And he pulls his legs up to his chest and plants his face on his knees and wraps his arms around his head and tries to breathe.

The doctor’s appointment went awful. The disease has only progressed. His mom will only get sicker as time goes on. They’re looking at treatment options, what could make her healthier before it can get worse, and what could be more effective in the long run; they’re not the same thing.

It’s just the two of them.

It wasn’t always this way.

He wasn’t always this way.

Cesar takes a deep breath and lifts his head. There’s the street below, winding around the side of the hill, and the bus stop further along it. Down the slope are the houses, the shops, his old primary school at the edge of it; the traffic congesting the arteries of the city; and far away, towards the setting sun, the forest at the other end of town.

Cesar tilts his head to the side. There’s smoke coming from somewhere in the forest, staining the afternoon sky an ugly brownish-grey. Probably some dumbass kids and a campfire gone wrong. Cesar lies down on his back, folds his arms over his eyes, and waits for something to feel better.

[princejoffreyvelaryon]

Catching Up

( A part of @asongofgoldenfireandblackblood )

Starter with @moondancer-rp

Joffrey squinted his eyes, locking them on the a target a bit aways from him. He felt his step-sister, Baela, next to him, watching his movements. Her presence was calming to him, and he was happy he could spend quality time with her. As of late it seemed the two had not been together like this. They shared love for many of the same activities, and archery was the one they had chosen for today. But, although he was in a happy mood, he had a lot on his mind, and a lot he had yet to say to Baela. His focus felt all over the place, and the little red circle he was currently trying to pierce with his arrow was not a priority in his mind. 

Sighing, he released his arrow and watched as it landed close to the middle, but not quite. Annoyed, he looked to Baela to initiate that it was her turn to try. It seemed once the arrow was gone, he was ready to speak his thoughts aloud. “Step-sister, I’ve been wondering this for a while." He spoke as she readied her bow and arrow, awkwardly kicking at the grass beneath his feet. "What are your thoughts on this… situation going on, with your twin sister, and my uncle?” He didn’t stop to let her respond as his thoughts came pouring out of his mouth. “Do you like him? I must admit I…” he stopped, finally, realizing he did not want to say anything rude. He did not want to gossip about his beloved step-sister, nor about his uncle. He wanted to make sure what he said was true, but kind, and thoughtful. He was genuinely curious to hear what Baela had to say, and valued her opinion and words. 

“I do not know how to feel about him. I’ve never been particularly close with him…” His mind raced through a series of their encounters together, most of them being neutral or negative. He continued on, “I am not sure if he likes me, in fact, I know his older brother does not care for me at all… But, I am happy for Rhaena. She deserves  good man. I just hope Aemond is that man. She hasn’t told me much, to be completely truthful…” He trailed off, his signature pout forming on his face. He stared at the ground, thinking of something else to say. 

“Well, Aemond does take a great deal of Rhaena’s time now, I’ve noticed. That must mean he is a good man to spend time with.” Joffrey swallowed hard, deciding the change the subject. 

“It seems our little circle are all flying from the nest, now. You’ll be married soon, with Jace. Rhaena with Aemond, if they decide… I, to a Greyjoy, possibly. Lady Alannys, you know her.“ He stopped to examine her face, waiting for her to respond. He’d said a lot. Too much, perhaps, but now it was out, and his mood had gone up and down with every word that he spoke. He gripped his bow hard, feeling the engraved details on his skin.

[emotionallychargedtowel]

Utsukare S2E2 & relationship themes - making some progress!

OK, so after I wrote an entire dissertation about relationship dynamics between Hira and Kiyoi in season 1 and the first episode of season 2, where do we find ourselves in episode 2? Well, there’s definitely been some movement in the right direction. They’re also continuing to illustrate some of the tendencies that have not been serving them well. One way to sum up my take on this relationship is that they’re both incredibly ambivalent about intimacy--both having intense needs and intense fears--but that historically, Hira is more of a pursuer and Kiyoi more of a distancer. Both pursuers and distancers are always supposed to “fail” some of the time (by design) so that even distancers will experience some closeness and even pursuers will get the independence they need. But Hira and Kiyoi have been too entrenched in these roles at times. And Hira’s, um, shall we say, quirky ways of pursuing have had a fail rate that’s a bit too high even for avoidant Kiyoi.

Kiyoi made some overtures in Hira’s direction in episode 1 of season 2, but he had an unfortunate tendency to do things like kick him afterwards. Hira made an effort to persevere in a social situation but was so dense about it that it bit him in the butt, then pulled out a partial victory by being sincere.

The story episode 1 was based on is actually set closer to the beginning of their relationship, and it shows. So episode 2 starts out feeling a bit more settled in a vague way before we even get to much of the specifics.

One of Hira’s themes for this episode is massively overreacting because he thinks he’s failing in his duties as a “servant” to the “king”--while Kiyoi stands by, mystified. Once it’s because he ran out of ginger ale, and then he loses it because he failed to stay awake while waiting up for Kiyoi after a late night at work. This way of relating to Kiyoi is convenient because Hira can do things for Kiyoi, which makes him feel useful to him and like he’s earning his place in this relationship he’s convinced he’s unworthy of, but he doesn’t have to take the same kind of risk of rejection or feeling inadequate as he would if he tried to relate to Kiyoi as an equal. Of course, there are also huge downsides to this. Among other things, Hira treating him like a “king” almost alienated Kiyoi from him completely before their relationship had even gotten started. And of course, that kind of contact is never going to lead to the authentic connection they need to keep their partnership going.

Hira also got challenged on a version of this in a way that seemed fruitful. When Kiyoi praised his cooking ability (”you’re incredible”) after his own cooking mishap reminded him that “cooking is hard,” Hira responded that he was “just a small pebble.” Kiyoi’s response--”You’re my man. Don’t call yourself a pebble”--was effective in part because it put Hira in a position where calling himself a pebble would be casting aspersions on Kiyoi, which is basically against his religion. Arguing someone out of deeply held negative beliefs about themselves isn’t always likely to be fruitful, but in this case it was so earnest and done with so much knowledge of how Hira’s mind works that it was a worthwhile effort.

Kiyoi was working on his stuff even more in this episode, probably in part because it was from his point of view. In addition to parrying Hira’s “pebble” comment, he attempts to show him some spontaneous affection. The first time, he wakes Hira up and triggers a torrent of self-recrimination. The second time, his smooch attempt gets cockblocked by a phone call from Koyama. But he tried! He even tries using humor to get around Hira’s defenses, with a jokey, gentler version of his old insults--a strategy which, interestingly, reminded me of suggestions I’ve often seen coming from parenting experts.

Kiyoi also makes a fairly valiant effort to be civil to Koyama and mostly succeeds. Even when he admits to himself that he “can’t be mature” about Hira’s continued relationship with Koyama, at least he’s showing some self-awareness and acknowledging that being mature would be preferable if he could just pull it off. But the biggest thing is that he’s able to take Koyama’s criticism to heart in a constructive way (is it just me or does he show a surprising degree of respect for Koyama’s opinion?) and even tries to act on it by cooking for Hira. The food may have ended up being horrifyingly bad, but at least he gained an appreciation of things Hira normally does for him. And he actually voiced it! Season1 Kiyoi would never. How much of all this was due to shotgunning a bunch of pork-flavored wine? Some of it, probably, but it I think he should still get an A for effort. 

The high point of the episode for me was Kiyoi talking to Hira about entering the photography contest. He does pull rank and use his status as royalty to order Hira to do it, but it seems like that’s the only way he’ll listen. Then he goes into persuasion mode and does a really admirable job. It’s hard to tell how much of this is sinking in for Hira as he mostly just seems stunned. But Kiyoi makes a good argument, gives Hira a lot of direct praise in the most convincing way possible, and shows vulnerability in a way that gives his perspective a lot more weight. The part where he tells Hira that he looks best in his photos was really affecting.

I mentioned in a post earlier that the blocking for the post-hotpot fiasco conversation scene seems really meaningful. As I’ve mentioned before, the show’s director, Sakai Mai, is on the record as making a point of following yaoi manga conventions that place the seme on the left (and, where applicable, the upper portion) of the page/frame and the uke on the right (or lower) portion. The show’s leads even use this placement almost every time they do social media posts and it’s followed in most of their promo photos as well. Sakai has talked about strategically switching up this placement and how it’s often a signal of roles shifting (though she also says she likes to “trick” the audience by doing so). Well, in that scene, Kiyoi sits above Hira (he’s on the couch while Hira sits on the floor) and on the left side of the frame. He later gets down to Hira’s level when he starts talking in a serious way about the photography contest, but he remains on the right. This seems to be meant to signal that Kiyoi is behaving in a seme-like way here, and he is definitely doing more pursuing in a way that bodes well for getting his relationship with Hira to a more balanced place.

So, yeah. Growth! Progress! But not so much progress that is seems unrealistic or un-earned. It seems inevitable that more wrenches will be thrown in their path soon but here’s hoping they will lead to more growth in the long run. it’s been really interesting to see the way this second season is shaping up. It is so distinct from season 1 in a way that seems appropriate. The stakes feel so different. Not higher or lower, but different. There’s so much more humor, in a way that fits. The show has changed but it seems like a change that is appropriate and earned. I’m really pleased with it so far. 

[yumedoca]

You know, having seen the 2022 version of Nagisa in the new promo, I’ve gotta say I’m not a fan of Ryuunosuke x Nagisa. What with Ryuu not really being into it (and debatably not into men in general). Plus it’s another way her dad is controlling her life. I mean, more power to people who like it, but it’s just not for me.

Hai there! Hope you're having a great day!

I've seen a lot of different opinions when it comes to RyuNagi. I've seen people who like it, are meh about it and dislike it. Personally, I do like it but I do also have complicated feelings regarding this ship. I'm the kind of person who looks at the positives and negatives, so I'll list both side out so I can explain it better.

For the positives:

The concept of tomboy X femboy is a very cute one, it bounces off each other very well, especially here considering how both their opinions seem to differ when it comes to their upbringing

How the chapter 'One Night's Battle' gives a good start to their relationship when Ryu shows a bit of affection for Nagisa and how it shows that Nagisa is stronger than Ryu and earlier in the series, Ryunosuke has stated that her type is someone stronger than her!!

Nagisa does see Ryunosuke as fully female, unlike their stupid, delusional fathers.

This analysis here brings up a lot of good points about the ship, so read it.

Now for the negatives (the bits are more detailed since I figured explanations are more necessary for these):

RyuNagi does disservice to Ryu's character. Yeah, Nagisa follows the Takahashi trope of 'late love interest' the same way as Inaba does, but there's a difference in both guys and how they were handled in their romance with their respective girls. For InaShino, Shinobu's main character goal is that she wanted to be with a good man but she only keeps attracting weirdos and perverts. The only way to give her a happy ending is to have her end up with a good man, which in this case is Inaba. I love Inaba, he's sweet, cute, kind of silly and goofy and definitely not a pervert, exactly what Shinobu wants, a man with pure heart. Not only does this give Shinobu a happy end, but it also gives the reader satisfaction to know that Shinobu's story has come to a close since her goal has been achieved. Sadly, the same doesn't apply to Ryu. Ryu's main character goal was clear when she was first introduced, she wants to be a proper woman. But the story doesn't end that way, instead it ends with her being with Nagisa, still under the same 'misgendered' way she's been brought up. Of course, as the chapters progressed after her introduction, we were told that she'll want be with a man who is stronger than her, which ends up being Nagisa. But that wasn't what her character was supposed to be about, she was supposed to kick her dad's ass and win herself a sailor suit, not JUST end up with a dude with a similar upbringing as her. That makes her story feel like it had no proper closure, instead there's just a romance which had nothing to do much to her initial goal at all.

It had so much potential to be something more. Nagisa had to be introduced much earlier and they should've had more chapters together. Maybe, they could've made Nagisa and Ryunosuke discuss and bond over their stupid upbringing, maybe Nagisa could feel bad for Ryu, after hearing how much she wants to be a proper woman and how much her dad stopped her from enjoying herself and maybe help her enjoy things that her dad didn't allow her to (Christmas, Chocolates, etc.) and Ryunosuke fully falls for him because of his kindness... Then their romance would've felt even more natural. In the canon, it doesn't seem like they have that strong couple dynamic (cuz their final chapter has Ryunosuke just beginning to fall for Nagisa) ? I feel like if we had more screentime after 'One Night's Battle' with them showing their relationship develop, it could've worked better and would have had more dynamic. It's a case of wasted potential, but this potential will later be fulfilled by Ranma and Akane in Ranma 1/2, since they also have a similar tomboy and femboy fiance and fiancee thing going on, but sadly, that doesn't improve RyuNagi more than it should've.

I've never actually thought about RyuNagi being another way her dad controls her life, like you said but I see what you mean, anon. This statement ties in with the character goal thing and the potential thing from the two points above. Personally, I think RT should've made Nagisa stronger than Ryu's dad and after the whole bonding, kindness and feeling bad for Ryu bit I talked about from above, they both kick his ass. Boom, karma.

So yea, that's how I feel. I think most RyuNagi fans like the ship for the concept and the little but still cute bits in canon, since a lot of fan works I've seen rely mostly on that. I remember seeing a RyuNagi fan manga months ago on Pixiv where it was something about RyuNagi celebrating Christmas. I can't read a lick of Japanese, but from the images I could tell they had more romantic progress than the actual canon. The handling of Ryunosuke has to be one of my least favorite things in UY. I'm much more satisfied with the other canonical ships (Mainly AtaLum, ReiRan, InaShino and even TsubaSaku!!) but sadly, RyuNagi doesn't feel entirely fulfilling to me. It's very cute but has wasted potential at the same time. And of course, no shade to anyone who likes this ship, I do too, I just wish it had something more to it.

Sorry for rambling and if I've accidentally called Nagisa a 'she' instead of 'he' then forgive me because it's a stupid habit I have and I can't seem to control it.

[aprilskyforever]

Henny ranks Eurovision 2023 - before the show

i’m kinda late with this this year, i admit. reasons? I guess I can say i’ve been busy, but it’s not all, truth is i’m not that engaged about this year actually... of course there are songs i love, but it’s not a year where i struggle to make a top 10 you know? anyway. enough negativity. let’s take a look, shall we? oh and please not that the songs are not in a certain order within each category.

category: can’t we have two winners please?

Sweden - yeah i’m in my patriotic era again. this is euphoria chapter two, in a good way, and it’d be so cool if she won purely from a statistic point of view... howEVER........ 

Finland - wouldn’t it just be great with a winner that was... a little rough around the edges? dirty, gritty, would scare your grandma only to later make her nod and say it’s quite a bop afterall? and it’d be the proper reward for finland who has brought their absolut a-game to their national final for the past few years - even though they’ve in my opinion picked the wrong winner from it. until this year that is. yeah, i think i’d like that.

category: added to my playlist and played frequently

Norway - mgp really stepped up their game as well this year and sometimes i even question if queen of kings is my winner from it (there’s tresko, ekko inni meg, love you in a dream etc etc) but my god it just goes so hard doesn’t it? although WHEN are they putting the version with the intro on spotify?? WHEN!!

Slovenia - you know sometimes i forget carpe diem is a eurovision entry because it just sounds like something i’d hear from an average band in my library?? idk how else to describe it. i just love it. and i love THEM. bojan’s charisma is.... sigh

Austria - it bops and it’s so CLEVER i love it

Serbia - hello??? i’m obsessed

Portugal - as soon as the beat kicked in on my first listen i was hooked. it’s flawless. and it’s the first portugese entry i’ve been really engaged in since.... uh... i started watching?? obviously i’ve liked entries from them but i haven’t really cared. this time i do.

Czechia - go ladies go!! i really hope this will be as epic on stage as in the mv. please please please

Malta - this is a sort of recent obsession, i didn’t really get it right after the nf, so we’ll see how long this lasts but i’m always having fun listening to it

category: also in my playlist but not as frequent

Estonia - it’s beautiful! but maybe not so original. my winner of eesti laul was meelik /:

Switzerland - i actually don’t mind the lyrics and i love the chord intervals in the chorus

Croatia - chaotic fun. and sticks to your brain like glue. mamaaaa kupila traktora... SC!

United Kingdom - this song was like a bubble gum. lovely and fun the first few listens but i got tired of it kinda quickly, sadly

category: i can recognize the talent here but i guess it’s just not for me?

Latvia - i’ve seen so many people hyping this and everytime i listen it’s like yeah this is good! and then i don’t feel the urge to listen again

Spain - yeah the performance was captivating but... that’s where it ends for me

Italy - it’s nothing Wrong with the song itself but it didn’t grab me and i had so many other options from sanremo i’d rather see here than Another Male Italian Ballad and this time by a returning artist on top of it so uhhhh yeah

France - i’ve listened to la zarra before the contest so i had some hopes for her and they were not fulfilled )): i like the disco beat and the last chorus - because that’s when everything finally reaches a fullness it should have reached WAY earlier in the song. do you feel me?

Moldova - you know i think i just need a few more listens to this and i’ll get around to it

Ukraine - don’t have much to say about it but it’s alright!

Georgia - this is that kind of song that you only hear in eurovision but when you do you absolutely love it and she does have very impressive vocals, i gotta say

category: they’re fine i guess/i don’t care!!!!!!/no that’s definitely not for me

Belgium - song is kinda catchy i’m ngl. but i cannnnnNOT cope with his styling.

Azerbaijan - it’s cute! that’s about it

Albania - i’ve listened to this exactly once and it was alright but nothing core shaking you know?

Netherlands - this one i think is alright everytime i hear it and then i immediately forget how it goes after it’s done. i couldn’t sing it back to you know matter how i tried honestly

Denmark - yeah it’s fine

Cyprus - i don’t caaaare i don’t care it’s alright but i don’t caaare

Lithuania - ehhhhh why couldn’t we have had beatrich instead ):

Germany - i guess i see why people like it but yeah no this is Not my thing at all

Australia - same with this

Armenia - this could go in the other category above here but.. i don’t like it enough actually

Iceland - yeah no. i don’t get it

Greece - for the love of god couldn’t someone have paired him up with an experienced songwriter and/or producer here because there are many great ideas but they just sound like a mess? it sounds so unfinished?? and i think i really would’ve liked this if it just sounded more... polished. worked on.

Israel - again a mess of a song with too many ideas in it and a very weird build. can’t get around to it

category: good god no

Ireland - someone asked an ai to write the most generic song ever and this is what we got

Romania - dude. bro. no.

Poland - this could’ve been a very basic but somewhat ok entry had there just not been the whole story with how it was picked and what kind of person she is

San Marino - this song feels like a threat. and WHAT is with the singer’s posture?? STAND UP STRAIGHT jesus christ

and there we have it! how much do we agree?

[spaceprincesszil]

My partner has been very supportive of anything I want to do and claims to love my body no matter what. I don’t think it’s untrue but he definitely likes the hourglassy-ness I’m developing better. He hates that my hips/ass shrunk.

In 2007 I was dating some lameass dude, fucking during a totally manic phase one summer. I was getting dressed and he looked up admiringly and told me I had a fat ass. I always have an ass, I guess, but as a white girl who hit puberty in the late 90s and grew up in the age of aughts fashion where midriff was king and your hip bones MUST show and that collar bone had to pop…it was like napalm. I had a fat ass. I was probably about 150-160 and convinced I was way too fat, my BMI at 5’7” was overweight.

Spiraled.

And that brings me to the other night. My guy says he likes thick girls, but when I look at who he looks at (since I’m queer af and have some overlap in who we find attractive, we both look at porn together) really he likes curvy hourglass girls with fat in all the right places, big tits big ass small waist thick thighs, which is not how I’m built right now or when I first moved in with him. Or fit girls. I do not see him look at girls as imperfect as me. was grabbing my hips admiringly and my ass and said something like “this is my wide load.”

I froze immediately, bc all I could think of was how that’s one of the labels Lardass in Stephen King’s The Body (or film Stand By Me) gets. I made some comment about it, and he immediately got upset, like “jfc I’m tired I didn’t mean it like that.” I want to give him the benefit of the doubt, he likes phrases like that in bed, but I certainly don’t like that one.

On top of that on the lunar eclipse he had a meltdown bc as I am heading back into a more socially acceptable weight category and be idk, approaching conventionally attractive, he’s worried I’m going to leave him. I tried to explain that anyone who couldn’t see I was worthwhile before would have trouble landing my attention now or in future. I don’t like chasers of any sort.

Being fat isn’t a personality trait for me, but neither is fitness, to be honest. I tried to be body positive but it doesn’t work for me, I hope to achieve body neutrality, and just be able to be grateful for what my body can do.

But “wide load” keeps echoing in my head.

My body has changed a lot this past year but it’s still not enough. If I was a normal amount of fat it’d be more noticeable.

Almost all my underwear and bras are too big and so are most of my pants. I can almost wear my partner’s pants comfortably, which is exciting to me bc I’d love to present more masc at times and I’d like to express that more, which is hard in a fat curvy femme body. I really want some more clothes but what’s the point if I’m still shrinking? I wish I knew how to sew.

Wide load.

Fuck man, like why? I don’t really think he meant to neg.

On top of everything I am not sleeping nearly enough, I keep waking up at 4 something and can’t fall back asleep. I haven’t been walking or moving enough and I think that’s why I can’t sleep through. I have not been great about keeping up with motion as part of my mental health practice.

So this morning while I’ve been waiting I am adding lots of workouts to some playlists, and I even did an arm workout with some little weights that I can already tell kicked my ass and will make me so sore. One exercise in particular was really difficult and made me feel weak and pathetic so just means I gotta do more. I never like my arms, it’d be nice to feel good about them.

Really love the idea of getting really toned so can present more androgyny.

I’m trying not to let a comment he made sleepily at like 4 am get to me, but it’s been echoing and bouncing around in my head multiple times a day since he said it.

That’s its own kind of weight.

All i can do is move through it and do better on my end.

[rollingdumpsterfire]

Found another French press and I’m slowly getting some semblance of normal mornings back, which I’ve missed. I set Howl’s Moving Castle down on the counter, pages-down, so while I wait for the water to boil, and while I let the coffee steep, I can get another chapter in. Leaving the book on the counter like that makes me pick it up when I’m waiting for things to boil. Lots of instant ramen and linguine with scratch-made red sauce to power through lately.

“What a very elegant way of making coffee!” I remember a Radiologist telling me when I explained what a French press was. The kettle begins to whine, stopping me mid-sentence in the book about Sofie’s boldness as an old woman. I pour the kettled water over the grounds in the press and shuffle around for a spoon.

“Damn. I need to stop wasting spoons like this”, as I root around for the last spoon, quickly stir in my coffee, and rinse it off to set it aside for my cereal. “Huh, four minutes, that’s shorter than I originally thought”, the instructions say. I’d usually let the coffee sit for ten. “Well, it’s not like I won’t taste the difference” I chuckle to myself, sparking up a reason why I even crave mornings like these in the first place. Immediate mental damage shaken off.

A silence fills the apartment.

I still can’t tell if I like these kinds of silences or not. The first time it happened was when I had gotten on the phone with many friends that day offering their support I always shrink away from.

"Come over, we'll cry and watch movies."

"Drive up here and stay the night, we'll play board games!"

"This is last minute, but come to my bachelor party at my house!"

After the last friend hanging on the phone said “I just got into work, call you tomorrow?” and hung up, it was there for the first time. I stared down a half-empty apartment. You know the silence, when you’re alone and have been crying over something permanent but your body has just decided it’s over doing that mechanism. You’ve taken that last hiccupped breath, wiped your last tear, and blown your nose for the last time. That silence. What the fuck IS that silence? It’s happened more than once, too.

For a person who remembers hating silences off all kind, trying to fill a room with a record, or just powering through the stigma of making full-blown conversations with themselves. I learned to hate that inner voice. He was so jaded, so negative, so matter-of-fact. He was as sharp as a tack though. He would shield me from disappointment because worse-case scenario; I always knew it would end this way. Best case? I'm pleasantly surprised. It was never a silent moment with you, though. Anything to shut him up.

“No way we have the same exact music tastes!”

“Why do they call him Sterling and not just Archer?”

“If you were a bee what bee would you be?”

I was slingshot back to the reality of my current situation.

Chapter Six: In Where Howl Expresses His Feelings With Green Slime. Setting the book back pages-down, (listen, you'll be FINE it wont LIVE like that, besides-- you don't even want to know what happened to my copy of Catch-22), I root around for a mug, as if I'm not already going for my black and white "Eat the Rich" mug you got me two birthdays ago that I haven't washed since. I take my coffee black, and it's MY mug don't you dare fuckin' judge me! (by the way:

Yes that new Two Door Cinema club record is great, Sam crushes those guitar riffs.

It's a play on 007 where other characters call him Bond and not James.

A busy buzzy bee.)

My whirlwind of a roommate, went off to work after a night of debate of whether or not we need to go to a hospital. It's not that I didn't believe them of their sharp rib pain, it's just not enough to quantify an emergency and we would be stuck in the ER for hours only to be potentially told "we don't know what's wrong, here's some pain killers you can't afford, and off you go!" I don't even know who to be angriest at in this scenario, but I'll always kick myself first. Damn me and not being at the Doctor level yet. Damn me and being smart enough to know that I'm not smart enough to give a definitive answer on what ails them. FUCK me for being unwilling to feel their pain because if I give more empathy it'll complicate their feelings towards me, since admitting they had a crush on me the day before. I really don't need that on my plate right now.

There it is again. That damned silence.

Recovering again from those mental blows to myself, I reflexively go to the fridge to aim for that hazelnut creamer that you liked. Laughing to myself "having a coffee addiction but can't take it black." I touch my temple now from that psychic pain.

"Why do you snowball like this?" I say to myself soon after, switching gears to reach for my own milk for cereal, only to ultimately decide against it and close the door. I take the green book, set my mug on the coffee table and lay myself down on the couch with my left leg hanging over the edge. I look over the top of the book to the same perspective where you'd work and I'd read in absolute silence.

I learned to be welcoming of my own thoughts through the quiet times. I'm still the extrovert and needs to fill the air with noise. I used to make noise to shut up that angrier, self-loathing, inner bastard. This chapter of life though, having nothing going on, and no one to talk to made moments OF talking to friends all the sweeter. You showed me that.

I was emotionally damaged when we met so I remember often, looking up and choking on my own words for fear of letting you know more about me. I just got used to not saying anything when we hung out. I was busy being in my own head though.

I would make myself uncomfortable because I felt guilty that I was just in my head and not actually present with you. I KNOW you were okay with that, more than okay, you loved me more for it-- I just wasn't. The more and more these thoughts cycled in my head the more resentment I grew. At myself. It festered horridly. You ran around cleaning or cooking or working on your art, and I would check in "Need me to do something?" I didn't ask because I genuinely wanted to help I asked because I felt the guilt of being just inside my own head and paying you no mind. Secretly kind of liking it.

I didn't lie about loving you--it just made anything that you did that bothered me all the worse. All relationships have speed bumps, my spiraling made them mountains. Is this how you felt, in those pictures where you're deep in thought and you didn't say anything until the idea of me got away from you and what reality me would actually say? Yes, of course I don't have to move in with you! I know it's too early, but opportunities like this are weird like that in relationships, why have you been holding that in this whole time? You know you can talk to be about anything when it happens? You know with me there's always a compromise, right? You know it's not healthy to be hung up on an ex, right? Do I actually love you, or is it that "idea-of love" trope? Did I actually give in to "the best way to get over somebody is to get under somebody" subconsciously? Did I give in to that initial terrible thought when we started dating that you were just a rebound? Sorry I'm freaking out about moving in with you, but it's too soon, yeah? Uh oh, I've had a dream about this, where we are dating but I'm not happy being with you, it's not coming true, is it?! Am I admitting I actually don't see a future with you? Am I subconsciously looking for the next person and refuse to give up what I have and let that jerk voice win? Did I just find someone else? Did I lose a different opportunity because I couldn't get it together fast enough? Again? Why am I like this? Would you have actually done those awful things if my situation was different? You know if you stopped trying to appease everybody you wouldn't be in this mess right? Do you like the drama secretly? Did you invite that chaos because you're bored? You're just a womanizer just like every other guy, aren't you? You try to go against that in every way but you're no different when push comes to shove, right? What could have done different with--?

"Just give me a second to breathe!"

I catch up to my runaway daydream.

That silence returns.

"Shit." I stare at my empty cup of coffee, which usually meant I would have to start the French Press Process all over again, but I always fill the press with water so there's two cups. Whether or not it's a leftover habit is unimportant, anyway. I shuffle over to the kitchen and fill my mug again. I turn my back, mug in hand and lean on the counter. The cold coffee touching my lips.

"Yeah, I've missed mornings like these."

[fuckyeahvanhalen86-95]

It may put Joe Satriani out of a gig, but he's with Wolfgang Van Halen when it comes to the prospect of any sort of tribute concert or tour for Van Halen and his late father, Eddie Van Halen.

Wolfgang recently told Britain's Classic Rock that a reunion of Van Halen alumni — his uncle and drummer Alex Van Halen, bassist Michael Anthony and singers David Lee Roth and Sammy Hagar — would be difficult because "their camp is very dysfunctional – everyone! – hell, it was difficult to make plans even when the band was active."

The Mammoth WVH leader said he also felt "a lot of closure" after covering Van Halen songs with Foo Fighters at last month's Taylor Hawkins tribute concerts. "My part of the show was a tribute to my father," he added. "I feel that I’ve said my piece, and if the Taylor concerts are all that happens then I’m happy with that."

Now, Satriani — who had been invited by Roth and Alex Van Halen to be the guitarist for a tribute tour — tells UCR he concurs.

"When I saw Wolfgang playing at the Taylor Hawkins benefit, I thought it was the most natural, beautiful thing I'd seen in a long time," says Satriani, who's currently on tour promoting his latest album, April's The Elephants of Mars. "It was such a wonderful thing to see him play his dad's music like that, and he's such an incredible musician. I thought, 'Well, if the thing is ever gonna happen, he should do it.' It just seemed more natural than reaching out to somebody like me."

"So, the world should just wait for him to make up his mind how he wants to do it, and we should leave him alone, let him figure out the best time and place for it," the guitarist continues. "Whatever he comes up with will be the best way to do it, I think."

Satriani, who played with Hagar and Anthony in the band Chickenfoot, admits he was cautiously intrigued when Alex Van Halen and Roth called him with the tribute tour offer.

"I jokingly told them on that first phone call that if I had half a brain I'd hang up right away and not accept such a crazy offer, 'cause nobody can replace Eddie, and whoever tries to do it is gonna get a whole lot of negativity from the world of social media," he says. "But I heard myself saying 'yes' before my better judgment kicked in, because I am such a fan of Eddie and his work, and I thought, 'Wow, it would be such a great labor of love to dive into that and try to understand the essence what he was doing for each song.'"

As for the challenge of learning Van Halen's robust catalog, Satriani says: "I can kind of figure out the fingers, but there's some things that are too quirky that he does that I can't figure out how to do. Getting inside the music is really what you need to do when you go to play it, to capture the spirit of it and learn what not to play when you're playing each song. I would really enjoy that."

Satriani — who's never met Wolfgang and has only met Alex and Roth on one occasion each — says he's spoken to Hagar and Anthony "quite a bit" about potential Van Halen reunion scenarios, but he relishes the fact that "I have nothing to do with that kind of decision-making" for the project. "It's complicated, put it that way," he says with a laugh. "There's relationships that go way back with Michael and Van Halen and Sam. Everyone's got their own idea about how to do it best, and I'm staying out of that."

The guitarist does, however, think the prospect of Roth and Hagar sharing the stage is a non-starter.

"I can't imagine that ever happening. Ever," he says. "That happened once [on the disastrous 2002 Sam and Dave tour] and it fell apart. I don't really see that happening. I mean, once you really sit down and you start talking about it, there are just so many roadblocks; you can't imagine just how it's going to happen. I think they need to make some important decisions. I think it's really up to Wolfgang and his Uncle Alex to figure out what to do."

Satriani is not holding his breath or biding his time until then. His current North American tour runs through Nov. 19, and European dates are slated to begin on April 1 in Oslo, Norway.

"I can't believe I'm out on tour, I'm out of the house and I'm actually playing music in front of an audience," he says. "I'm still pinching myself 'cause it seems like it's been ages since the last time [2019's Experience Hendrix tour]. Getting shut down was pretty traumatic, so it's like every night's an explosion of this positive emotion that's been sort of pent-up. I'm kind of punchy, walking around like a zombie, like usual when you're on tour 'cause you never get enough sleep, but I'm enjoying it."

[theendofachapter]

“What a life.”

I really hate days like these. I need to stop overthinking. Soon I won’t have time to sit with my thoughts anymore and I guess that’s a good thing. I’ve been working out a lot and I’m starting to get back to where I was before the pandemic. I can’t believe I really just sat around and did nothing productive during that year and a half. I just feel so empty lately. Like nothing excites me.. nothing makes me happy, but I guess I’m not feeling the pain as much anymore too. I really need to stop dwelling on the past, and reliving the times we hung out, and trying to figure out why things ended like this. Earlier I was looking through my phone for pictures of tofu.. and saw the videos of her playing the piano.. and her singing when we went to karaoke. I tried not to watch them.. but I did. It made me sad.. and wish that I could go back to those simpler times. That day when I saw her play the piano for the first time was when I realized that I really liked her.. how she was so concentrated on the creation of the music.. how it seemed like she could see music in the air.. I still get little reminders of her throughout the day.. which sucks. Every time i spray my sanitizer.. when I use my face lotion.. when i do laundry.. but I just keep repeating in my head that she hates me and it makes it easier to deal with. I miss her so much.. I just wonder how she’s doing. If she’s happy now, if things have gotten better at home, with her health, if … she’s with her ex now. I really hate him.. for doing what he did to her, especially after all the horrible things she’s already been through. I know she doesn’t care what I think, but.. I just pray he really is a good person and will take care of her for real, and won’t ever hurt her again. I know it’s unfair to hate someone you don’t even know.. and you shouldn’t have hate in your heart.. but i do. I hate the guy who raped her. I wish I knew what he looked like so if I ever saw him.. Id kick his ass. To the point where he will know why he’s getting his ass kicked. The physical pain wouldn’t compare to what he’s done to her, but he needs to feel at least an ounce of pain that she’s been through. I don’t even care about the consequences, you don’t get to just walk free after doing what he did. I know violence isn’t the answer.. but fuck, what kind of low life rapes someone? And he gets away with it?? Fuck that. Man I get so pissed when I think about it.. this is turning really negative.. I really hate all the people who have ever wronged her, she doesn’t deserve any of the things she’s had to go through.

I still think about her sometimes.. God I just miss her so much.. I hate how things turned out. I was so fucking stupid to let my feelings get in the way. I should have stayed away the first time I told her I liked her and that she didn’t have feelings for me. It was so hard though, but I guess that would have been better than the alternative.. than this.. right now. I just want her to be happy. I really don’t understand how I had fallen for her this hard.. and I guess I never realized how much I had until I was blocked out of her life. It sucks thinking about her with someone else.. whoever she ends up marrying better treat her right..

—

I honestly think I’m going to be single the rest of my life. I don’t know if I’ll ever meet someone like her again. Even if I do meet someone.. they’ll always be compared to her, and that’s not fair to them. I always wanted a family.. two kids.. a boy first.. then a girl, so he could always protect his sister. I want to provide for them.. and give them everything that I never had. I want them to have a real childhood.. where both parents are there. I don’t want them to grow up too fast.. like I had to. I always wished I was just a normal kid.. from a normal family. At 15 I already had to grocery shop for the week and make dinner every night for my 5 younger siblings.. and thinking about it now I only had $100 grocery money for the week.. inflation is crazy. I sometimes resented them.. and would bully them.. because I always thought it’s because of them that I couldn’t have a normal life. It just sucked seeing my mom tired all the time though.. my dad was gone and she would come home so late to make just enough money for rent. As soon as I turned 18 I moved out.. which was probably really selfish of me. I still helped out and paid all their phone bills.. but I wasn’t even making that much so I don’t even know how I did it. I just remember those apartment days were my ‘dark days.’ I don’t know anymore.. I guess this is life.. wow I’m starting to sound like my dad.. the phrase I heard from him all the time when he was around, “what a life.”

[muffindaddystyles]

Soft dom harry makes subby reader upset subspace?

MEANIE ANGRY H :D BUCKLE UP FELLAS

Y/N's day is been shitty so far. It started with an ache in her lower abdomen from Harry’s morning stiffy bulging against her asscheeks fattening everytime he snuggled into her to hoard her warmth and blankies and to stuff his face in her neck with incoherent blabbering.

She wanted to wake him up with her hand, mouth, hole— anything around his cock and to please him and dull the burny feeling in her tummy -- but -- she had an important workshop at UNI that was must needed to be attended.

The time she managed to knock herself out of her needy and lusty headspace, she was getting late and whirling around the room and closest like a thunderstorm -- burying a snoring Harry under the heaps of clothes and littering the floor with her shoes collection, the kitchen got treated much more worst with maids being not around (she’s used to Harry waking up earlier than her and making her a full course brekkie) after making a laughable ruckus of cabinets all she stuffed her mouth with was a chocolate protein bar.

The stars were still not in her favour. She was grabbing onto her hair until far when she missed the bus (she usually don’t take buses, Harry makes sure the driver drop her off safe and secure) and it started raining leaving Y/N with nothing but a bare head to take all of it as she already left the bus shelter to stop a taxi.

If all of that wasn’t much of a tragedy and humiliating, Y/N slipped the moment she stepped out of the vehicle and on the slippery curbs of the building, she saw her life flashing right infront of her eyes as the papers tucked in her armpit fled everywhere and landed on the rainy mud sadistically along her. It gave her a serious hit in her ankle and completely yanked her hip, still being a stubborn-head she picked herself and went inside despite how many glares the cleaning staff threw her way for bringing the dirt with her feed all over the shiny floors.

She felt bad.

Stupidly bad.

Her workshop teachers were kind enough to accept her late arrival, but her designs for fall got rejected and they’d have been a huge milestone for her to get her dream internship.

Y/N felt awfully, teeny, pathetic and little while slumping into the corner of the bus and holding her breath to refrain from crying these little liquidy bitches out of her eyes.

Reaching back home she was met with pure chaos, bumping into petrified and agitated employs from Harry’s company scurrying out of their main foyer and she could persist but to ask what happened only to be informed in stammers that the staff messed up big and caused a loss of million dollars— making Harry terribly mad and fire people left and right.

It wasn’t a joke at all.

Because once, she steps inside, bag falling from her shoulder as she sighs in exhaustion feeling her muscles stiffening everywhere but one particular spot's hurting wrenchingly— her foggy mind couldn’t figure it out yet. She peeks into Harry’s home office to be met by a very annoyed, aggrieved, furious Harry pacing in his office all whilst with a phone against his ear shouting at someone who was destined to be humiliated today just like her and she pouts gingerly seeing his features skewered tightly into displeasure, the vein that curves along his temple prominent with blood pumping erratically in his body.

His head snaps up at the door’s creak and albeit his eyes softens a little, the kink of brows and the scowl on his lips is still there and he watches her paddle towards him carefully knowing anything at the moment would burst his chimneys out and she wants to be good for her daddy.

“Hi.” She speaks timidly, pout getting more rusty when the greetings not returned and instead he keeps all of his attention on the phone keeping a loose arm around her.

She grumbles, when he gestures down at her to give him a sec and untangles himself from her walking away and huffing and puffing into the phone.

How could he!

She feels so denied and rejected and kicked like it’s done to those affection starved lil puppies.

Her clingy tendencies flying high drunk and wooly. The needy beastie inside her wanting nothing more than take a bath where Harry could cream her back in her favourite berry bubbles, massaging her head and whisper sweet nothings into her ear, then lots and lots of cuddles, maybe he'll be generous enough and let her keep him snug inside her while they watch movie because she had such an awful day.

But, No! He's trying to escape free from her because she’s such a burden for him now.

Her eyes turns glassy, her shoulders slumping sadly and out of nowhere she’s feeling cold and barren as Harry’s voice becomes a wafting fume for her— an indication she has gone under too much.

“Daddy . . .” She stomps behind him, circling his footsteps like a whiny puppy and grapples at his dress shirt gasping sullenly when he swats her dainty hands away and glares down at her in dominance, his tone harsh as he blocks the receiver with his palm and mouths at her with a huff, “Stop being needy fo’ once. I’ve clearly some important issues to care for, Y/N.” Poor Y/N's deathly grip on his shirt loosens sorrowfully and her chin wobbles as she nodded still wanting to be good for him and if it wasn’t enough to give her the biggest heartbreak of the year— he even rolled his eyes at her too grumping under his breath about something how he turned her into a spoiled brat himself.

“Okie. . .” Her voice strangled and small. She shrinks into herself but wasn’t paid any heed from Harry and without another word she leaves him as to be it.

Having a huge breakdown in her room didn’t help at all. A painful headache hitting her like a train as she clumsily strips down, wearing one of his t-shirt heavily drenched in his scent he keeps for her under her pillow anytime she needs it and hides under the blankets with tears still running down her swollen cheeks— slipping into a light slumber from all of weariness and crying.

Once the smoke cleared from Harry’s mind and his capabilities of rational thinking coming back to him, he was reminded of how he denied his baby of his littlest of affection and tenderness when she clearly looked so glum and sad and upset.

He wanted to whip himself in head.

He’s such a twat that he let work come between them.

He curses himself. Making a sprint to his bedroom, knowing he’d find her none other than there and he was right puffing out a disheartened sigh when his eyes falls over his princess buried under all of these layers of blankets, he crawls up towards her carefully not to startle her awake.

Grunting at himself when he finds she’s been crying, he strokes a thumb up her blushy cheeks and her wet lashes, kissing her puffy eyelids and her little sad unhappy pout away.

He frowns. Feeling her feverish and flushed under his hand, “Hey puppy . . .” He thumbs down her throat getting a little fretful when she doesn’t stirs, however she’s such a squirmy little one and he moves the blankets away to let her body cool itself smiling proudly at his shirt swallowing her whole is when she snuggled herself more into her stuffie letting the shirt ride up her thighs and hips exposing a ghastly bruise of red and purples and he frowns not remembering it being there before.

Now. He feels shittier. Wanting to jump of the cliff for being a shitty sadist boyfriend to his only beloved.

“No!” Y/N whimpers loudly, squirming away from his touch as he examines her gently and it sent shockwaves to each of her tissues and lions causing her an undeniable pain.

“Puppy, shh, shh. ‘s just me, making sure if y'okay.” He scrambles closer to her towering her to cradle her face and kiss the tip of her nose—- his face falls drastically and his heart cracks miserly when Y/N pushes him away with a sorrowful mumble not even letting him wipe the drool away from the corner of her mouth as he usually does.

“’M okay . . .” She tries to knuckle the sleepiness away with shivery hands, “No you’re not —...” He’s cut off by her angry pout and her silly efforts to keep as much distance between them as possible, “I don’t need, Daddy . . ‘m big and I could take care of me self.” At her puny waver realization dawns upon Harry and his brows shoots up to his hairline feeling nauseous and terrible for not taking care of his babylove earlier.

He’d have never let her be away from him if he knew she was in her subspace.

“Y/N baby . . . I didn’t mean it, darling —--...” With gentleness he tries to approach her but she wraps her arms around her petite figure in a protective manner, haziness taking best of her and Harry’s chest suffocates into itself, being a dom it’s your responsibility to make your subby feel protected, loved and happy and he even failed at that.

He quickly cups both of her hot cheeks in his nippy palms when she hiccups sadly, a sob threatening to slip out, “Yes you did! You meant it. Said you spoiled me, I don’t want your money, promise! I just want you and y'shooed me away saying Y/N’s too needy . . .” Harry flinches at her words. He never even spared a thought to this negativity that she chooses to be with him for his money because he knows out of all the people she’s the only one who loves him out of the boundaries of status and money.

He realises how stabbing they'd have been to her when she was so sensitive and floaty wanting nothing more, just him.

How deep she has gone if she’s taking her own name in third person.

“’M sorry baby. So sorry. Swear on myself, didn’t mean to hurt my baby, knows tha’ work shouldn’t be an excuse t’ make y'feel unloved—- but those bastards got a tick outta me.” He rambles on frantically. Afraid she’ll think he’s lying and would finally make up her mind to leave him.

“You didn’t?” She asks with so much innocence Harry nearly cries out, “’Course I didn’t! How could I? You could never be needy, Bab. I love you so much and you’re my whole word, forgive me please?”

“You’re forgiven,” She let a small smile flutter up her features, a tinge of gleam in her previous dull eyes brightening the whole room and Harry immediately bunches her up in his lap.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks her, not sure if she still needs space from him and would rather be better without him but she bobs her head shyly and he chuckles softly before touching their lips together into a tender loving kiss and brushes their noses up and down murmuring sweetly coy to her.

“Now, could y'tell daddy how y'got this bruise baby? How did ya get hurt?” He coos, brushing her sweaty hair back and rubs her sweet gland behind her ear delicately, “Oh yeah . . . this, was raining and slipped.” She murmurs, hissing a gasp jolting away when Harry glides his fingers gently down her hip bone and fresh tears springs in her eyes as she buries herself in his chest, “Daddy hurts. . .” . “Oh babypie. Daddy’s g'na take care of his love.” He lays her down gently kissing her forehead when she whines for him to keep on holding her, “’M right here darling. G'na prep us a bath, make my baby alright.” Saying this he quickly disappears inside the washroom and next their room’s sursuring with marble tub filling with warm water, Harry throws in her favourite pink coloured bath bombs and rose essences and throws their towels in the warmer coming back with her as he left her to be, he has decided he’s gonna love on her whole night, “My baby’s the best, ain’t she? She’s my bestest girl.” He coos down at her sweetly and slides his forearms under her knees and back picking her up carefully and brings her to his chest securely.

She closes her eyes, biting down a whimper when Harry dips them in the water some it sloshing down the edges of bathtub and it envelopes them and gives a stingy feeling to her bruise before soothing it down.

He rubs her arms, and circles smoothing patterns on her tummy and kisses her a gallons as she melts in his embrace and he let’s her sink into him more, nibbling and sponging wet ticklish kisses on her neck making her purr and become a puddle of softness in his hold while she takes her time to mumble all the bad events that happened to her and he felt so guilty of not asking her how she’s and how her day went when she came to him, in need of some of his lovin.

“I love you so much, bab.” He suckles her earlobe, toying and plucking her bottom plush lip, “Was prick to me love —.. you deserve all my lovin,” He noses at her jaw, not forgetting it to mark it with his pecks and sloppy bites.

“’S okay daddy, y'had a bad day too.” He’s grateful to have her in his life. She cares about him, maybe more than he does for her and he feels himself lucky for it.

“You want me to help you relax?”

“Can I have you?” Her tone bashfully desperate and coy, Harry meanders their fingers together and kisses her knuckles softly.

Considering her wound still being sore and pulp, having sex would be painful for her and she might not grasp it in her hazy mind but Harry doesn’t want to hurt at all.

He plants a little noisy smooch to her shoulder when she nods, she mews and purrs when Harry glides his palm all the way down her body and cups her pussy digging his palm into her mound and coats his digits with her arousal dipping the pads of his fingers into her entrance, “All this wet f'me?” Palming her tits while whispering sweet nothings into her ear when she gasps and closes up on Harry scratching nails into his bended knees.

“Shh, shh puppy, jus' relax hmm? Feel yourself.” With sputtery inhales she does as he says, soon two of his fingers slips inside her and he strokes her pussy and pulls them out making her all whiny and pushes them back with a squelching noise, fucking her with it smiling and stopping when her thighs parts falls again his’s completely.

“Daddy!” She writhes and whines, trembly hands trying to bring Harry fingers back to her pulsating wetness, “You’re the cutest.” He smiles against her lips giving her cheeks several squishes and pats her head loving to see his adorable princess all flustery for him.

On her demands. He slicks his fingers back inside her and caresses the insides of her thighs while she pants and sinks onto his knuckles blabbering out daddydaddydaddy weepily.

“Cum fo’ me, puppy. Feels good? Yeah? My baby feels nice?” He rasps in her mouth, curving and petting the soft spot inside her pussy and sucks onto her upper lip when she moans and mewls loudly gushing all over his finger and he keeps on fucking her till she’s all sleepy and balmy against his chest.

Harry coaxes her tenderly, smoothing his hands all over her twitchy spots and patches sloppy kisses all over her face that makes her all giggly and shy—- the amount of endorphins spiking high in her system.

“Love you so much, daddy.” She mushes puckering her lips into his throat.

“Love you too, pup.”

[redpandaramblings]

Like Caramel For Chocolate- An Omega Bakugou x Alpha f!Reader fic. Part 6

Part 1 Here

Next part Here

Content Warning: Negative headspace, omegaverse, self deprecation, depressive thoughts, pushy parental figures, ambiguous omegaverse reproduction, unhealthy relationships, relationship that could be easily fixed if idiots would use their words and communicate, Shinso/Denki side relationship, Bakugou is a dumbass but so is y/n

Where we left off-

Before Bakugou could reply, the jeweler came back into the room and handed Denki a piece of paper.

“All right sir, here is your receipt! Your ring should be ready in three days.”

“Thanks.” Denki shoved the receipt into his pocket, quickly making his way to the door. “See you around Bakubro. Don't want to be late for my shift.” The door closed behind him with a bang.

Bakugou wasn’t annoyed though. Now he could pick out the perfect ring for Y/N and not worry about Kaminari being nearby. Everyone knows Kami can’t keep a secret to save his life.

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep all of this a secret.” Denki moaned into his hands. He was sitting with his head buried in his arms. Y/N reached across the table and gently petted his hair.

“I know what you mean, but I don’t think either of us are in a good position to start telling people.”

Y/n and Denki sat in a secluded corner of a dimly lit cafe. Both of them had this time free and both of them definitely needed to talk. They stood a lot less chance of anyone asking questions if they were just two friends getting lunch instead of them privately going to each other’s apartments.

Denki looked up, giving Y/N a wide eyed expression. “I know, but I wasn’t expecting Bakugou to show up when I was dropping off that abomination of a ring! I just was lucky the jeweler had already taken it to the back. You were right by the way, that thing is absolutely horrendous. Like, was the designer blind?”

Y/N snorted. “From what I’ve heard, great great grandpappy had a lot more money than brains and wanted to impress his omega by shoving as many stones onto a ring as possible.”

“No kidding. I think it can be seen from space.”

“Very likely.” Y/N chuckled before slumping back into her seat with a sigh. “Though I might have an idea about what Bakugou was doing there.”

“Wait, seriously?”

Y/N nodded with a sigh. “Yeah. When I got back he invited me to the summer festival. I’d forgotten about it.”

“Ah shit, yeah. Isn’t that your guys' anniversary?”

“Yep.” Y/N sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Of course he had to pick this time to actually celebrate. We haven’t gone or done anything… God, I think since he became a hero.”

“So you think he was getting a gift.” Denki sat back as the server came, placing your orders in front of each of you. You both murmured your thank yous and waited until the server was out of earshot before resuming your conversation.

“Yeah, he had to have been. Makes me feel terrible, but there wasn’t a good time to… Well…”

Y/n gestured between herself and Denki.

“Tell him that you’ve been betrothed to an omega of much superior looks, breeding, and manners?”

You gave Denki a little kick under the table as he cackled. He grinned cheekily as he poked at his food. “Sorry. Humor is my coping mechanism. I get it though. Timing sucks all the way around.”

You nodded, sighing and taking a bite of your own food. “Can’t say anything during his heat. Then his schedule was swamped, and I had to sort things out with you. Then bam, anniversary that for some reason he decided to remember this year.”

Denki snorted, popping a bite into his mouth. “That’s about the long and the short of it. And we haven’t even begun to figure out how to tell everyone we’ve not only accepted arranged betrothals, but that we’re engaged to each other.”

“I don’t know, I was kind of hoping we could just move to Tahiti and never speak to our former friend groups ever again?”

“A valid possibility. But that means we’d have to learn French and maybe Tahitian. You know I only passed English because Hitoshi and his dad coached me.”

“Fair point.” You sighed heavily. “But I’m really not looking forward to these conversations.”

“They have to happen though. You might have some anonymity to hide behind, but I’d rather my friends not find out about our engagement when they see an article about Chargebolt getting married.”

“Really?” You smirked slightly. “Then you’re going to tell everyone at your agency, hmm?”

Denki kicked you under the table. “Shut up!”

You poked at your food again as the smile fell from your lips. “So… Did you get a chance to think about what I sent you?”

Kaminari nodded. “Yeah. And I hate to say it, but I think you’re right.”

“I thought about it a lot. I hate to leave the area, but it would be too awkward to stay here after everything.”

A few days ago you had sent Denki an email with a list of places that had job openings that would suit both of you. You both loved where you lived, but after everything, how could you stay? There’s no way the two of you could continue to keep living in the same apartment building as Bakugou. That would be cruel. Cruel to whom you didn’t quite want to think about. You spoke up again.

“Any place catch your eye?”

Kaminari nodded. “I was kind of thinking Okinawa. I have a few connections there. Decent distance from here and from our parents. And that would probably be the easiest transition.”

“Works for me.” You said, as if it wasn’t ripping your heart out to do this. It hurt. But it had to happen. In the end, you had to believe this was what was best for everyone. It might take some time, but this was it. This was what would make everyone happy in the long run.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shinsou was worried. Denki had been acting odd. And that’s saying something. The blond omega was usually loud and bubbly, the life of the agency. At least once a week, he invited Shinsou out for drinks, meals, clubs, karaoke, or some other nonsense. But ever since he’d gotten back from his three day leave, Kaminari had been acting strange. When he thought no one was looking, he was quiet. Withdrawn. Like he was puzzling out the toughest problem of his life.

Denki having a problem? Pretty typical. Denki having a problem and not talking to Shinsou about it? Pretty unusual. The blond had always come to the purple haired alpha with even the simplest of problems. Apartment searches, furniture assembly, what support items would suit his quirk best, even things like what to get from Starbucks. And even though he might groan and roll his eyes, secretly Hitoshi loved every second of it. When he had helped by digging through websites, cobbling together a rickety shelf, or reminding Denki that he always got the most cloyingly sweet items on the menu; Hitoshi got to pretend that he was Denki’s alpha.

Shinsou wasn’t sure exactly when he had fallen in love with Denki. Probably had been since high school at least. His dad had warned him against loud blonds while his father had laughed. But he couldn’t help it. Kaminari had been one of the first people to enthusiastically believe in him. Had always sought him out and wormed his way into Shinsou’s life and heart. And now Shinsou couldn’t understand it, but Denki was pulling away. Even as he watched the blond who was typing up a report on his computer, it somehow felt like Kaminari was slipping right through his fingers.

Shinsou cleared his throat. Kaminari glanced up. “Yeah man? What’s up?”

“You doing okay, Denks? You’ve seemed a little out of it.”

Denki met his eyes, startled, then quickly glanced away. “Yeah. Yep! Totally fine.”

“Denki. I know you.”

Kaminari sighed and slumped on his desk. “Just some life stuff. Family stuff. Friend stuff.”

Shinsou frowned, walking over to place a hand on Denki’s shoulder. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Denki snorted and laughed quietly. Shinsou furrowed his brows.

“Yeah” Denki sighed. “I know. But half of it isn’t really my stuff to tell and the other half isn’t exactly worth talking about.”

“You sure? We could go grab one of your obnoxiously sweet coffees after work. Go to mine or yours, watch an old crappy horror.”

“Tempting. Thanks man. I would, really, but I got some stuff I have to do after work. Some other time maybe.”

Shinsou frowned. It was rare for the omega to turn down an invitation for a movie night. Hell, it was rare for Denki to turn down an invitation, end stop. It made him even more worried about his omega… friend. His omega friend. His friend who just so happens to be an omega. Hitoshi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He really didn’t want to ruin the best friendship he had. But he couldn’t keep this up much longer. His alpha had decided on the electric blond long ago, and the omega’s unusual behavior and unhappy scent was driving him wild with the need to protect. He really needed to pull himself together and confess soon.

“Well, whenever you’re free then,” Shinsou said, reluctantly letting his hand fall from Denki’s shoulder. “You know my number.”

Denki nodded and looked up, giving him half a smile. “I do. Thanks Shinsou.”

Shinsou walked back to his desk, his mind made up. He needed to tell his omega how he felt, and soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N twisted and turned, looking at herself in the mirror. It had been a very long time since she’d worn a yukata. It didn’t feel right to dress up like this. But wearing anything else also felt wrong. Everything about this date felt wrong. Like this was the kind of she she did in another life. And now here she was, going on a date with the man she loved. Who she’d always love. And who she’d already decided she was going to let go.

Y/N snorted and fussed with her hair a bit. Maybe she should have just refused this date. Claimed to be sick or something. But that felt wrong too. So, she just had to get through tonight. After all, what’s one more night of pretending everything is fine? Hopefully this could be a good memory from a relationship that just wasn’t meant to be. After tonight, she’d wait a couple days and then talk to Bakugou and let him go like he clearly wanted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katsuki was going to throw up.

He was going to throw up, right here, all over himself and all over shitty hair, too. His red headed friend was giving him a pep talk as he helped Bakugou into his jinbei. Not that Bakugou needed the help. Or the pep talk. It just was easier to let the squad come over when they had found out about his date. It’s not like he wanted them there or anything. Once Kiri, Mina, and Sero realized he was going to use this date to ask Y/N to be his mate, they had insisted on helping him get ready.

None of them knew about the little velvet box in his pocket and that his plans went further than just asking Y/N to be his mate. Bakugou bit his lip to keep from frowning as he looked over his friends, a certain loud blond conspicuously missing. You wouldn’t hear Katsuki admit it out loud, but he really wished Denki could have been here. He loved the others, and they were great in their own ways. But Denki was his pack’s other omega. He got it in a way that the others didn’t. After tonight, he’d have to make sure to catch Pikachu up on all the news. Hell, maybe he could help his fellow blond finally talk to that purple haired idiot he’d been mooning over for years. Everyone in the pack knew Denki’s family had been harping at him to settle down for quite a while.

Bakugou looked up in time to see Mina coming at him with the hair grease. He threw up his hands.

“Fuck no! Keep that shit away from me!”

“You’ve got to do something about that pile of straw you call a haircut. Besides, Wouldn’t it be nostalgic? Weren’t you interning for Best Jeanist again when you asked Y/N out the first time?”

“Yes, and I’d rather shave myself bald than ever have my hair like that again!”

Mina sighed. “Fine. We’ll do something else. But if I can’t slick it back, you will be wearing eyeliner!”

“IN YOUR DREAMS, PINKY!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You waited outside the entrance to the festival. It was strangely soothing to watch the people flow by, like you were a rock overlooking a stream. There were groups of friends, couples both young and old, families where the laughing children ran ahead of their parents eager to get inside. You gave a small smile at the last. Maybe that could be you someday, a parent getting to see a festival through the eyes of a child again. Though the mental picture was hazier than it used to be. The children you half imagined just blurs of colorful yukatas, instead of loud and stubborn blond haired brats with their father’s eyes and attitude. You huffed a quiet laugh to yourself as a thought occurred to you. If you and Kaminari actually went through with this plan, decent chance the kids would still be blond. The thought hurt a little.

“Y/N!”

You looked up and had the breath knocked out of your lungs.

Katsuki was beautiful. You knew it. Thought it often, even. But tonight he practically glowed. His hair had been tamed into a softer look than usual. The jinbei he wore was the perfect compliment to his skintone. Was that… Yes. Dark eyeliner made his crimson eyes pop. Your heart ached. You’d always love this man. No matter how it tore you apart, he’d always own part of your heart and soul. You smiled weakly and raised your hand in greeting.

“Hey. You look good.”

“Thanks.” Bakugou scratched the back of his head. “Mina got ahold of me.”

“That explains it then.”

“Hey!” Katsuki gently elbowed you in the side before taking his place next to you. “You saying I can’t dress up on my own?”

“Yes.”

“Y/N!” You dodged out of the way as he swatted at you, laughing. Yes. This could be it. One last good night.

“Shall we go in?” You asked, holding out your hand.

“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” Katsuki asked as he walked past you, ignoring your hand.

You gave a quiet smile as you followed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katsuki picked at his food, none of it making it to his mouth. He was going to be sick. He was going to be sick right here and some paparazzi was going to see and take a picture and the big headline tomorrow was going to be “A Puke Worthy Proposal.” He was trying his best to keep up the illusion that everything was fine and normal, but it was rough. It had been a long time since he’d taken his alpha on even a normal date. And this wasn’t any normal date. It didn’t help that things were feeling forced and awkward.

He wanted to hold your hand, but his own hands were sweating buckets. He tried to keep up casual conversation, but that was getting harder and harder as the night wore on. Every sentence he wanted to just blurt it out and get it over with. It was impossible to keep talking about what vendors he recognized when all he wanted to say was “I love you and I’ll always love you and I want you by my side until the sun stops shining.”

It didn’t help that things felt awkward. Almost nothing was feeling easy or natural. It really had been far too long since the two of you had gone on any sort of date. He frowned as he thought about it. It had been over a year, at least. Longer, even. Well, he was going to have to fix that. He’d be able to use some of that pro hero paycheck and spoil you like you deserved. His Y/N. His mate. And soon, his wife.

Bakugou stared at nothing, his eyes going unfocus as he started daydreaming about how spectacular your wedding would be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was a disaster. You glanced over to where Bakugou stood picking at his food, looking bored. You’d been trying to keep up the conversation, but for the past several minutes you’d only gotten hums or grunts in response to anything you said.

“It’s amazing how they got all those pro heroes to dance nude as one of the main attractions this year.”

Katsuki grunted.

Yeah, he wasn’t paying attention at all.

You sighed, looking down at your own untouched food. You never should have agreed to come. At least this date was proving it to you. This had to end. The two of you didn’t know how to be a couple anymore. It was even clearer that Katsuki wasn’t even interested in trying. You had no idea why he wanted to have this date in the first place. Some bizarre sense of obligation? Maybe his heat had shaken him up enough that his omega needed the sense of normalcy? This issue was this wasn’t normal for the two of you anymore. It hadn’t been for a very long time. You sighed, glancing around for a trash can to oust you untouched dango.

A loud pop caused you to look up. The fireworks were about to start.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bakugou looked up at the sound of the first firework.

“Wanna head to the pier?”

You nodded quietly, following him as he led the way. He was sweating so much now that if he set himself off he’d take out half the city.

This was it. It was almost time. The two of you were going to watch the fireworks from the out of the way pier like you had all those years ago. It was at the end of that fireworks show the two of you had had your first kiss. And this time… Well this time at the end of the show he was going to propose and you were going to say yes, and it was going to be perfect.

That is if he didn’t barf before you two got there.

“Hurry up,” he grunted as he picked up the pace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You tried not to flinch at Bakugou’s harsh tone. He clearly wanted to get this night over with even more than you did. You tried not to let it hurt.

The pier was empty as it always was. The lack of lighting keeping others away. The first time you had discovered it, it had felt hidden and intimate. Now it felt desolate. Lonely.

You walked up to the railing and stared at the sky. The fireworks didn’t feel magical anymore either. Your fingers wrapped around the railing as you glanced to the side. Bakugou wasn’t even looking up. He was staring at the reflections of flashes in the dark swirling water below.

You couldn’t do this anymore.

No more.

The fireworks illuminated you as your grip on the railing tightened until your knuckles turned white.

“Katsuki?”

“”What?” He asked roughly, barely glancing your way.

“Let’s break up.”

And that was Part 6, my darlings! Hope you're enjoying the drama, because there's more angst on the way! You can scream at me about the cliffhanger in replies, reblogs, tags or asks. :P

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