#i mean it makes me feel better about it happening to me but like again... wild

[raebiis]

I was thinking about this last night, so I’ll share the idea I had here:

Organized crime- not (explicitly) the mafia bc that’s just gauche. But their roots are the same. This is temporarily from the love interest’s POV, so I’ll refer to them as MC for now. Also, this was more meant to be a sort of ‘warning’ to the MC but they’re drawn in anyway- it gets much worse when romance is involved… tbh I just love a good toxic relationship.

The MC (who I personally imagined as Al Pacino’s Micheal Corleone- a little fanfic just for me- but to each their own) is witness to an argument between two sisters. One is the ‘leader’ and the other is… not ignorant, but also not completely informed.

The other is a recovering addict who relapsed and the leader found out about it. The leader confronts the other and there’s an ensuing argument/one sided screaming fest while the other cries and tries to shift blame.

She blames it on her longtime boyfriend (there’s history there).

It’s a mistake.

“Oh,” leader says, suddenly calm. And why does she look a little amused? “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” cries other, unable to recognize the danger through her tears.

“Are you absolutely positive that it’s his fault?” Leader clarifies. “And this is how you want this to go?”

“Yes,” other insists.

“Okay,” leader says, and leans in to press a kiss to others head, “then just rest here and I’ll take care of it.”

And other would know better, should know better, if not for the relief of leader no longer being upset with her.

It’s only when leader pulls a gun from the drawer next to her that other catches on. But it’s too late, leader has already silently ordered the goons to keep other there and out of the way.

Other is begging, pleading, but her words fall on deaf ears. Leader brushes past MC on her way out, and MC turns to watch her out of the window.

Other’s boyfriend is outside, having just exited the shed out back. He looks up at Leader and begins to smile before she raises the gun- his face hardly has time to shift in horror before-

!!!

Leader takes her time meandering back to the house, other’s wails can be heard all the way down to the lake at the bottom of the hill the house sits on.

When leader enters again, MC can feel their heart racing and they take a measured step back. But leader doesn’t even notice them.

She sets the gun aside and goes to her sister, gathering her in her arms and shushing her tears.

“It’s alright,” says leader, “don’t worry. I’ve taken care of the problem. You can start to really work on recovery, now.”

And other blubbers out something that sounds a lot like a confession to having lied. Her boyfriend was innocent?

Leader’s smile is unsettling when she pulls back and cradles her sister’s crying face (she already knew). “Don’t say that, other. Because if he wasn’t the source of the infection?”

Her thumbs press deeply into the hinge of her sister’s jaw, and her smile is long gone by now.

“That means I’ll just have to cut deeper.”

And other has a look on their face- understanding, despair, and the unconditional love of siblings forged in fire. Other knows to forgive leader is to invite more pain, but how could she not? Leader is her sister, and her sister has been by her side all these years. And her sister isn’t always terrible. Most of the time she’s kind, generous, gentle…. That’s gotta mean something. It has to make up for all the times leader is cruel.

Doesn’t it?

(And, of course, we see the same happen to MC. They’ve seen the warning signs, but leader at her best is just so charming and so loving- how could they ever not love her? Why, even in her most wicked moments leader is only expressing the depth of their unfathomable love. Leader hurts them to save them. Right?)

fucked up hurt/comfort. the person who stabbed you tends to your wound. the person who killed your loved one helps you grieve.

[solxamber]

Deuce, Romantic, "Again/I wanna be your lover, I don't wanna be your friend" by Noah Cyrus.

"I wanna be your lover" || Deuce Spade

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: Again by Noah Cyrus

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 730

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Mutual Pining, Friends to lovers

Deuce is your best friend. He always has been. Through thick and thin, through the chaos of life, through every scuffle, every test, every late-night cram session—he’s been there. Steadfast, reliable, a comforting constant in your life.

And maybe that’s what terrifies you the most.

Because if he’s always been there, what happens if you break this? If you take a step too far, cross that fragile boundary, and realize you were better off as friends? What if you ruin the best thing you have?

But Deuce—Deuce loves you. He doesn’t just like you, doesn’t just think you’re fun to be around. No, he loves you in that stupidly obvious way that makes Ace roll his eyes, in that devoted, borderline puppy-eyed way that makes Riddle sigh in exasperation.

He doesn’t say it, but he doesn’t have to.

It’s in the way he always walks on the outer side of the sidewalk, subtly shielding you from passing vehicles.

It’s in the way he keeps extra snacks in his bag, always offering them to you first, even if it means going hungry himself. It’s in the way he watches you—like you’re something too precious for this world, something he’s terrified of losing.

But you’re scared. So you pretend you don’t see it.

One evening, you’re sitting outside, eating snacks on the dorm steps. The sun is dipping beneath the horizon, the sky painted in streaks of orange and lilac. It’s peaceful, the kind of quiet that settles between two people who have known each other forever.

Deuce is sitting close, his knee bumping against yours. He’s laughing at something you said, eyes crinkled, dimples showing, and it’s so easy. This has always been easy.

You think about how much you love him—about how warm he makes you feel, about how you never feel lonely when he’s around. And that terrifies you more than anything.

So you look away.

And then, as if he’s been holding it back for years, Deuce speaks. His voice is quiet, hesitant, but firm.

"I wanna be your lover. I don’t wanna be just your friend."

Your breath catches.

You turn to him, wide-eyed, unsure if you heard correctly. But the way he looks at you—raw, vulnerable, so painfully honest—leaves no room for misinterpretation.

"Deuce—"

"I mean it." His hands curl into fists, his heart beating out of his chest. "I—I don’t want to just be the guy you call when you need help, or the guy who’s always there, waiting in the background. I love being your friend, but I want more than that. I need more than that."

You’re frozen.

Because you do love him. You love him so much it scares you. But what if you mess this up? What if you say yes, and it ruins everything? What if—

"Please," he says, voice barely above a whisper. "Just tell me if there’s a chance. I don’t need anything else—just tell me if there’s a chance."

You stare at him.

And suddenly, all the fear, all the uncertainty, all the worries screaming in your head—none of them matter.

Because this is Deuce.

Your Deuce.

The boy who has been by your side since day one. The boy who holds his heart in his hands, offering it to you without hesitation, without expectation—just hoping you’ll take it.

You don’t answer. Not with words.

Instead, you reach forward, cupping his face with trembling hands, and pull him in.

His breath hitches, but he doesn’t hesitate. The moment your lips meet, he melts—like he’s been waiting for this, dreaming of this, for so long.

And maybe you have been, too.

His hands find yours , pulling you closer, holding you like you might disappear. You feel his heart pounding against yours, fast and desperate, and you realize—he’s just as scared as you are.

But he still took the leap.

So maybe you can, too.

When you finally pull away, he looks at you like you just handed him the world.

"You—" He swallows, breathless. "You mean it?"

You smile, cheeks burning. "I wanna hear you say it again."

His eyes widen—then he grins, so purely happy that it makes your chest ache.

"I love you."

And you know—this is it.

This is home.

And maybe, just maybe, you’ll be hearing him say it again, and again, and again, for the rest of your life.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[insidekatmind]

Confession-Alejandro Balde

Wearning:+18,sweet smut.

It was late, and the rain was falling gently on the streets of Barcelona as you clutched your phone in your hands, your heart shattered by yet another lie. The proof was right there, in front of your eyes messages, photos, details that left no room for doubt. He had cheated on you. Again.

You felt foolish, exhausted, drained. How much longer were you going to stay in this toxic relationship, hoping he would change?

A knock at the door made you jump. You already knew who it was.

Alejandro stood there, his hoodie slightly damp from the rain, his eyes burning with restrained anger. He looked at you for a moment, then, without saying a word, pulled you into his arms.

"You don’t deserve this," he whispered against your hair.

You broke down in tears, letting all the pain flow out, just like the rain streaming down the windows. Alejandro didn’t let go, not even for a second.

"I don’t understand why I keep hurting myself," you murmured, your voice breaking.

He pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands. His dark eyes were intense, filled with a feeling you couldn’t quite decipher yet.

"Because you love him," he answered, a trace of bitterness in his tone. "But he doesn’t know what it means to love you."

Your breath hitched for a moment."Ale…"

He shook his head, taking a deep breath as if he was about to say something he had been holding back for too long.

"I’ve seen you suffer too many times, Y/N. I’ve watched you forgive, hope, stay when you should have walked away." He paused, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. "And I realized I can’t stand by and watch anymore."

Your heart pounded wildly.

"I love you," he confessed, his voice trembling but sure. "And I have for a long time. I just always thought you deserved someone better than me… but then I realized that anyone would be better than him."

He gave you space to pull away, to refuse, to deny. But you didn’t. Because in that moment, with his hands holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the world, you felt a truth you had never dared to face before:

Alejandro was everything your ex wasn’t.

And maybe, he was exactly what you had needed all along.

You look at him for a while and then finally kiss him. He responded almost immediately, kissing you back hungrily, as if he could not believe that this was finally happening. His hands roamed across your body possessively, pulling you closer to him as if he wanted to fuse your body into his.

You straddled him without breaking the kiss. He groaned, his hands gripping your waist as you straddled him, his body reacting to you. He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth passionately. Alejandro shifted you a little so you were fully sitting on his lap, and could feel his excitement growing as your body pressed against him.

You moaned and clung to him as you kissed him more passionately. He broke the kiss for a moment, his breathing ragged, and looked at you with dark eyes filled with desire.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this," he murmured, his hands roaming across your back, as if trying to memorize every curve of your body. Without warning, he flipped you both over so you were now laying on the couch, with him hovering over you.

You look at him smiling and you let him fall on your body hugging him while you caressed his hair and every now and then you gave him sweet kisses on his face. He buried his face in your neck, nuzzling and breathing you in. His body was heavy on you, but it felt safe and comforting.

His hands roamed your body, sliding underneath your shirt and caressing your bare back. He let out a low moan, as if just the touch of your skin was enough to make him lose his mind. "You drive me crazy, you know that?" He murmured, his lips brushing against your collarbone. He began to kiss and lick your skin, his teeth grazing along your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His hands continued to roam over your body, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

You could feel his arousal, hard and wanting, pressed against you, and it made you shiver with anticipation. You pulled him closer, your fingers tangling in his hair. He responded immediately to your touch, his body pressing against yours even more. His hands were everywhere, as his mouth latched onto your skin, finding every sensitive spot that made you arch your back, and moan softly.

He nipped at your earlobe and then whispered in your ear, his voice deep and sensual, “I want you. I want you so bad it’s driving me crazy.” You shivered at his words, feeling a new wave of desire wash over you. You pulled him closer, kissing him hard and needy, as your body strained against his. He groaned, his hands sliding further down your body, exploring every curve as if marking you as his territory.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, wanting him even closer, wanting to feel every inch of his body against yours. He responded in kind, his own hips rolling against you as he kissed you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours.

Alejandro gently and delicately takes off your leggings and kisses your legs softly and then takes off your panties, he moans at the sight. He looked at you, his eyes dark and heavy with desire. He ran his hands over your thighs, his touch a mix of gentle and possessive.

"You are so magnificent," he murmured, his voice hoarse, as he planted kisses along your legs, his lips sending shivers of pleasure through your body. Alejandro slowly made his way up, his hands sliding up to your hips, as he pulled you closer. He looked up at you, his eyes locking with yours, filled with an intensity you had never seen before.

He quickly takes off his sweatpants and boxers and slowly enters you. His hands gripped your thighs as he slowly entered you, his body trembling with desire. He let out a low moan, his eyes locked on yours, as if he couldn't look away.

He took a moment, his body completely enveloped in you, and you could feel his heart pounding against your chest. He leaned in, kissing you deeply, his body pressed against yours as if he couldn't get close enough. “You feel so good,” he says softly as he pushed his cock into you slowly and sensually.

You moan softly feeling his gentle, slow and sensual thrusts. Alejandro watched your face closely, his gaze taking in every single expression you made. He loved the way your body responded to his touch, the way your moans made him shiver.

His hands continued to roam your body, finding all the spots that made you arch your back, and squirm in pleasure. He was taking his time, wanting to make you feel every single moment, every single sensation.

“Ale” you moan softly as you still feel his slow and sensual thrusts. “faster” you murmur but Alejandro shakes his head. “There's time baby, I want to make you feel every inch of me inside you” he whispers softly kissing your forehead.

“You’re so beautiful, so perfect,” he murmured between kisses, his hands roaming over your body lovingly. “I’ve wanted this for so long, I can barely believe it’s real.”

Your heart beats fast at his words and you smile softly and then moan as you feel Alejandro slowly and sensually hitting your g-spot. “There it is,” he whispered, his eyes gleaming as he noted your reaction. He knew he had found the perfect spot, and he began to move himself even more to touch it more softly, slowly making you lose your mind.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he commanded. “Don’t look away.” You obeyed, your gaze locked with his as he continued to move inside you. His eyes were dark and intense, filled with so much emotion it took your breath away.

He bent down to kiss you again, his mouth devouring yours possessively. His movements became even more deliberate, as if he was trying to drive you crazy. Every inch of your body was on fire, ignited by the passion of his touch. Alejandro picked up the pace a little, his thrusts becoming deeper and more erratic, but he was still in control, still keeping the rhythm slow and sensual. He could feel your body reacting to his touch, your breathing ragged and heavy.

Alejandro watched you closely, his eyes never leaving yours, as if he was trying to burn this moment into his memory. His hands were everywhere, roaming your skin, touching every part of you as if he couldn’t get enough.

You moan softly, kissing his jaw lovingly. "Ale I'm coming" you whisper. “Let go, baby,” he whispered back. “I’ve got you, I’m here.”His hands gripped your thighs a little tighter, as he continued to move inside you, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“Come for me,” he said, his voice low and sensual. “Come for me and I’ll catch you.” At his words you moan softly and come. With two more thrusts he pulls out and comes on your belly sighing loudly.

He groans at the sight. Alejandro reaches out and takes the rag that was on the furniture and removes his cum from you and then throws the rag on the floor. Alejandro collapsed beside you, his body glistening with sweat, his breathing ragged. He pulled you closer, holding you tightly in his arms. “That was… incredible,” he murmured, his voice hoarse and filled with emotion.

Alejandro looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of awe and satisfaction. He gently kissed your forehead, his fingers tracing a path across your skin as if he couldn’t get enough of you. You smile sweetly and hug him.

He held you close, relishing the feeling of you in his arms. He gently kissed the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your hair. "I can't believe that just happened," he murmured, still sounding slightly breathless. "I've dreamed of this for so long, and it was even better than I could have imagined.”

Alejandro hugged you tighter, feeling a wave of protectiveness wash over him. He never wanted to let you go. He wanted to keep you safe, keep you happy, and keep you close. His hand gently caressed your back, feeling the soft curves of your body. "I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "I love you so much, and I always have. I just never thought it could be real."

Alejandro pulled back slightly, so he could look into your eyes. He wanted to make sure you knew how serious he was, how honest his words were. He cradled your face in his hands and searched your gaze, his expression filled with a mixture of vulnerable and intensity.

[bottomsamtopdeangetwreked]

I love your baby sammy infantilization post and i would just like to add:

bartender/ waitress sees dean putting something in sammy’s drink & pulls him (sam) aside to warn him:

Bartender: Just so you know, I saw that guy you were with slipping something in your drink. do you want me to kick him out?

Sam: yeah i know he’s doing that it’s fine :3

Bt: ?????

sam’s falling asleep and nuzzling up to dean & trying to crawl into his lap like he used to as a kid. dean thinks its so cute that he just has to fuck him.

idk… your posts r so delightful

-🪼

I love the idea that Sam is completely aware Dean is drugging him, but not telling Dean that he knows. Dean thinks he's so sneaky but really, Sam is panting and getting weak at the knees thinking of his big brother roofing his drink,, also thank you for your compliments 🪼anon::)) some kinda continuation under the cut

Sam has known for quite some time now.

Well, not that Dean ever tried to hide it as well as he thought he did. The roofies were one thing, all in the pocket of his most unused leather jacket, the pills cut up in half.

He connected the dots between his ever impending sleepy-times and the fact that Sam is experienced in staying up because of college. He doesn't just start feeling sleepy if he doesn't want to.

Usually after he gets sleepy, Sam doesn't remember anything after. It's fuzzy. Comfortingly fuzzy, like his brain is telling him that he doesn't have to remember.

So when it happens again, Sam lets it happen. No protest, no nothing, just a sly look towards the roofied beer and a tilt of his head, the liquid slipping through his throat, settling in his stomach.

When he starts getting uncomfortably dizzy for one beer, Dean starts doing what he usually does, but this time, Sam will remember. He's sure of it. At least, he can try.

He hears (though muffled) "heyheyhey big guy, okay, come here Sammy. Come here Sammy." He feels (though electrifying) Dean's hand cup his side, guide him out of the bar, and take him to his car.

Dean's head is tilted to look at Sam, smile on his face like he used to when he still looked down on his baby brother from the bars of Sam's crib. He waits for a while, two maybe three minutes, before accepting that Sam probably won't remember any of this.

Sam does.

He promised himself he would.

It's a shock, but not enough that he physically reacts (probably because he's so relaxed) when Dean takes his hand and runs it through Sam's hair, cooing and whispering something about being sleepy.

When a particularly hard tug to his hair because of a knot happens, Sam freezes and his eyes start to water, his mouth opening to produce what he himself can only describe as, at the moment, the crying of an infant.

Dean panics, and he panics hard. "Fu--I mean, I'm sorry Sammy, I'm so sorry Sammy, lemme kiss it to make it better, okay? Come here,"

And Dean does, he does kiss Sam! Because that's his Sammy, and well, Sam quiets down. He doesn't know why he does (just like most of the things he's doing as of late) but he relaxes into the head kiss and whines when Dean's lips leave his hair.

At this point, he's drooling all over himself. Jesus, Sam thinks, the roofies he bought must have been from a hunter.

Sam's head falls backward, and the last thing he remembers is the sound of the engine starting.

When he opens his eyes again, he's in his bed, Dean is sitting on the edge, he could tell before he saw, because Dean does it often.

"Mm..Dee?" It's only been about thirty minutes since the drive back to the bunker, they got here at the fourteen minute mark and Dean had carried Sam like a baby to his bedroom at the sixteen minute mark. Which meant he spent at least fourteen other minutes just staring at Sam drool all over himself while he slept.

He's sporting a hard-on.

Well, can you blame him? Sammy's cute cocksucker lips covered in drool right in front of you, wouldn't you have a hard-on too? Dean asks the unavailable audience in his head.

When he contemplates going to the bathroom and taking care of himself there, he hears and feels Sam shift from his position laying on his back to crawl over (with drool still dripping out of his mouth) and plop his upper body on Dean's lap.

This time, it's Dean who freezes, and shakes, because good lord, fuck, this feels good. He's going to become a true believer in those sleeping pills if things like this keep happening.

Sam's clothes must have ridden up a little, because it's not clothes that press against his covered erection, it's his baby brother's stomach. All bare. Pressing against jeans.

Fuck. He's going to really start worshipping those pills.

He can't think about what he did after, about chuckling and grabbing Sam by the arm, about pulling Sam up and sitting him on his lap, about babying him even though he's even taller when he's sat on his big brother's lap--

Sam can though, and he will, because he was there for the entire thing. Sure, maybe he was off his game and babbling like a baby going "Dee, Dee," while lifting his hips and letting them fall back down on Dean's lap but he doesn't stop thinking about Dean breaking and finally throwing him down on the bed, eyes softening at Sam's confused face, and hands roaming all around and under those clothes.

He also doesn't stop thinking about how good it felt for his brother's cock to fill him in, and how snug it was, like a teddy bear. Doesn't stop thinking about drool coating his chin and eyes rolling back and accidentally calling Dean "dad"

He doesn't stop thinking about how that made Dean cum. Hard.

With that knowledge, Sam makes it his life goal to be as cute and babbly as ever. He's stuttering his words more, whining when he can't reach over the table for some seasoning, tugging at Dean's sleeve to tell him something.

Personally, Dean thinks he's going to hell, but fuck if heaven here didn't feel so good

[vodika-vibes]

It Was A Bet?

Summary: Tech admits that Echo was dared to ask you on a date, and your whole world comes crashing down around you.

Pairing: TBB Echo x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1150

Warnings: This made me weepy as I was writing it. Miscommunication.

A/N: So, I've been toying with this idea for a couple of weeks, and I finally had enough to turn it into a story. Also, writing is hard right now because whenever I look at a screen for longer than 30 minutes I get a headache. I desperately need new glasses.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

Your comm has been ringing non-stop for the better part of the day. And you know that if you were to look at the name on the screen it would have Echo’s name. 

You don’t want to talk to him.

You don’t want to see him either.

But you also know that the next step is for Echo to show up on your doorstep and insist that you let him in.

You don’t want to.

You feel raw. Exposed in a way you haven’t felt since you were a teenager.

Why couldn’t Tech have kept his big mouth shut?

…no.

No. That’s unkind of you.

This isn’t Tech’s fault. And him not telling you about the dare wouldn’t change the fact it happened.

And, to Tech’s credit, when he realized that you had no idea what he was talking about, he apologized to you and mentioned that he thought that Echo would have mentioned it to you by now.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t, and now you have to wonder if any of it was real. Or was it all pretend? Was it all designed to make him feel better about himself?

You jump when you hear a knock on the door, which is annoying seeing as you expected it, and you turn your head to stare at the carefully painted door. 

“Cyare? I know you’re in there. I can see the light on.” Echo’s voice comes through the door, “Open the door, please?”

You stare at the door for a moment longer, and then you pick up the remote and turn up the volume on the holo.

“Oh, very mature.” Echo says on the other side of the door, “No. Wait. I didn't mean that. Cyare, let me talk to you. Please?”

Again, you don’t respond.

“I have all day. And I have no issues making myself a problem to your neighbors.” Echo warns.

You scowl at the holo, but this time you drop your legs from the couch and stalk over to the door. You slam your hand on the button to open the door, though you open the door enough to look out, “What?”

Echo sighs, “You’re not going to let me in?”

“You’re lucky I’m even talking to you.” 

“Right. Fair.” He runs his hand over his head, “Let me explain. Please?”

“What is there to explain?” You counter as you fold your arms, “You were dared to ask me out. You won. Congrats. I never want to see you again.” Sure, it feels like you’re heart is breaking in your chest, but it’s fine. You’ve always known this was too good to be true.

“Wait, wait! It sounds bad. I know it sounds bad. But you don’t have the whole story.”

“What more do I need to know? That you laughed at me when I confessed to you? That it was all a joke to you?”

“What? No! It wasn’t! None of it was!” He places his hand on the side of the door, “Let me in, please? Don’t make me have this conversation with you out here?”

“Echo, please.” Oh, your voice is shaking. You’re going to cry again. Stupid traitorous body.

On the other side of the door, Echo falters. There’s a flash of guilt, and then he shifts and pushes the door open enough that he can enter your apartment.

Once inside, he lets the door close behind him, and he takes a step towards you, reaching out to touch you. Though he stops when you take a step away from him. 

“Cyare, please let me explain.” He’s pleading with you, alternating between panic and guilt. 

“Fine. If you insist on hurting me more—”

“No. I don’t--I wasn’t--That was never my goal, I swear it.” For the first time since the day you met him, Echo’s tripping over his own words. 

“Then what was your goal, Echo?” You shake your head, “What was the point? Did you think I would just never find out?”

“Do you remember the day we met?”

“...What?”

“It was sunny,” Echo continues, “You were babysitting your nephew, so you were both wearing tooka ears, and he was running around collecting pretty shells—”

“I remember you wouldn’t talk to me.”

“Couldn’t talk to you.” He corrects, “I was--force, do you even know how stunning you looked at that moment? I didn’t say anything because I couldn’t say anything. I was struck speechless.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Echo takes a half step towards you, and this time you don’t back away, “Whether you believe me or not, it’s the truth. And, I’m a confident guy, cyare, but the idea of talking to you when I look like…well, this.” He gestures to his body, “I couldn’t do it.”

You sigh softly, “You look fine, Echo.”

“I had a crush on you, which is embarrassing for a man my age, but I was too much of a coward to do something about it.” He says quickly, “So Crosshair and the others dared me to ask you out.”

“That doesn’t make it hurt less, Echo.” You say quietly.

“I know.” He inches a little closer to you, and you wince when his hand presses lightly against your cheek, “I meant to tell you. I really did.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Honestly, I forgot.”

“You forgot?”

“That…sounds bad.” He cautiously settles his scomp on your hip, “When I’m with you, the only thing I’m thinking about is you. And then I get home and I remember that I still haven’t told you about the dare, and the next thing I know six months have passed, and I still haven’t told you—” He trails off, “I’m sorry, cyare.”

You sigh softly, “You really hurt me, Echo.”

“I know.”

“I felt like I was a joke.”

“You’re not! You could never be.” Echo says quickly, “I love you, you’re everything to me.” He hesitates, “Can you forgive me?”

“...if you ever make me feel like this again, we’re done.”

“Oh, thank kriff.” He drops his forehead to your shoulder, “I thought I lost you.”

“I’m not happy with you right now, Echo.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He pulls back and searches your face, “You still love me, though?”

“Yeah. I still love you.”

His forehead falls back to your shoulder, and his arms snake around you to hold you tight. “Good. That’s good.”

You don’t move for a moment, and then you lightly wrap your arms around him and stroke his back, causing him to almost melt into you. It seems like he was genuinely worried that he lost you because of this.

And maybe you’re an idiot for forgiving him. Maybe you’re a love-sick fool for taking him at his word. But you can’t help it. You love him and you trust him.

“Echo?”

“Hm?”

“Can we get pasta for dinner?”

He releases a slightly shaky laugh, “Whatever you want, cyare.”

@heidnspeak

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[luciaintheskyainthi]

Greetings, I just remember your overdue pre-order of angst.

I imagine peter didn't ask Jason out not because he might return back to his universe. But deep down is the parker luck, Mj almost die because of Spider-Man rogue and many of the loved ones hurt or perish.

Doesn't matter if Jason said that he is red hood that he can handle himself. Remember iron man. Even though he is a hero with armor. So I think peter will prefer to be no one there for him.

As he might think "it better this way, so they won't get hurt because of me (parker luck)."

If we're looking at Peter at the early stages of ECM, then yes he's unwilling to connect with anyone like that. That's why Jason knows so little about Peter even though they've been living together for five weeks by the end of part 1. Most of what Jason does know is personality related, or worked out through subterfuge.

Knowing that Jason is the Red Hood does make a difference to Peter. Knowing that Jason's more than capable of taking care of himself means that Peter can start to really get attached, which is why Peter does start to let go of tidbits of information towards the end of Part one. This however, has been tempered by the fact that there's still the likelihood of him having to leave, which is in part why Peter can't recognise that attachment as anything more than platonic (that slow burn do be burning slow, lemme tell you) But also he's still grieving. There's no romantic feelings cropping up because of that too.

To me, it's about Peter being able to trust himself, and also trust that those he cares for can care for themselves.

As much as I enjoy the trope of Peter isolating himself out of fear of hurting others, and there are plenty of writers who've explored this idea very well, I don't want to write about a Peter who forcibly pushes people away. Holds them at arm's length? Sure. That's really what's been happening through much of ECM... But as I've said in a past ask, something I love about Peter Parker is both his faith in others, and his resilience. In ECM, Peter pushing others away again would be him giving up, which is of course what he did post NWH. His (self-enforced) isolation and grief reinforced that behaviour. But he's slowly had time to heal in ECM, and that means those arms of his have been letting people like Jason draw closer.

Being around others, caring for the welfare of others - people whom he can place a face to a name of, not just randos in Queens - has helped him gain a new perspective. Part two will explore more of Peter's connections to other people, and give him an opportunity to look at the future for what it really is: a time of potential and growth, not just a long-winded path towards self-destruction.

[energ00n]

Ok, making this clear now, this isn't an ask, but a message to those who keep bothering energ00n here. Some of yall are tripping hard or just are being plain ignorant or just being hateful cause y'all can never be happy & never touch grass for some reason.

That last post about Jazz being black and accusing energ00n here for being...idk, stereotypical or racist, is just plain stupid. Was there any racists moments they did or made? No. Was there any stereotypes? No. Was there any indication that he's a black man in all this and not a giant fucking robot in any sort of context whatsoever??? No! If anything, they're just treating Jazz like Jazz and in character in their own way, just cause they don't know the entire expansion of Transformers does not mean they are painting Jazz or any of character in a bad light. Like, for God's sake, I'm black, you wanna come at them with that shit then you better be ready to deal with my ass.

Secondly, those who are being ignorant or being downright annoying by saying this is bad, this awful, repeatedly asking questions just cause your ass doesn't wanna scroll down and read, then you might as well leave. Energ00n has answered the questions someone else beat you to, it's not that hard to read and scroll down. Plus, if your upset over a fan creation then this isn't the space for you, and who the hell takes the time & day to diss on a fan creation where nothing legitimately bad has happened. There is no proshipping, no racism, no hateful content, no misinterpreting anyone, none of that. Just a person who loves Transformers and wanted to share a really amazing AU with the world.

So please, leave energ00n alone and let them do their thing. They have made it clear multiple times, they're not an asshole for having boundaries, they're not a bad person and haven't done anything wrong. Get a life and go join a different fandom if you feel the need to critize someone for doing something they enjoy. Seriously, go after people who are problematic instead of waisting your time trying to justify an argument that never existed to begin with.

(Again, I'm sorry, just had to get it off my chest)

You're too kind to me!!

I've have a few black folks saying that my portrayal of Jazz is fine and it really warms my heart. I feel troubled that you guys even had to defend me because this is the most nothing burger situation ever. My Jazz was largely inspired by his character in Transformers: Exodus the TFP prequel novel, quotes and all. If I put any trope into Jazz, it's the Kdrama, anime, cliche love triangle trope, I have noooo clue what anon was talking about.

I'd like to note that you guys don't have to worry for me!!! I'll still get hotheaded at repetitive or weird asks but it's still entertaining to me than legit anger. If I really get stressed from asks or hate, I'll just shut off anon asks. I know how to handle myself, just want you guys to join in on the laugh whenever we get some weird asks lol

[hayleysayshay]

Okay this is what I dislike about Keyleth’s storyline in season three of TLOVM, and the Vaxleth romance.

Here’s what is happens between them:

Keyleth in episode one, is angry at Raishan and the group for choosing to work with her. She is ready for a relationship with Vax, who pushes her away.

Then in episode three, we reiterate that she is ready for a relationship with Vax, who is pushing her away. Throughout the eps we get a reminder that Keyleth is mad at Vax for this. Vax is the problem.

In episode six, Vax and Keyleth have an awkward convo.

In episode eight, Vax and Keyleth sleep together after Percy’s death. Things can change at any moment, they’re better off for acting on their feelings.

Episode ten: Keyleth fucks off, angry at Vax and the othere for not listening to her over Raishan

Episode eleven: we are told that Keyleth needs to open her heart up to love and Vax. She does so, level up, she forgives Vax.

Episode twelve: Keyleth uses her power up to body Raishan solo. Her and Vax are together.

The problem is that Keyleth’s romance storyline is very disconnected from her storyline with Raishan, and they try and tie them together at the end and fail to do so.

Keyleth doesn’t have an issue with letting Vax love her. She loves him at the start. Vax has the problem. He’s the one who needs to learn to let Keyleth in. This in contrast to the campaign, where Keyleth is the more hesitant member. It takes her a while to be ready for Vax. Vax is happy to wait for her. In TLOVM, from the start of s3, Keyleth doesn’t have this problem, she’s ready and waiting. She is ready to be vulnerable with Vax, she wants him, even when they disagree over Raishan at the start.

But then, we’re told Keyleth has a problem with loving Vax. But she doesn’t. She just feels betrayed and confused over the group’s support of Raishan. So what she need to work through is managing conflict with the group, her morals and sense of betrayal. I think being a leader means that you are able to manage these feelings of betrayal.

Letting herself love Vax helps ground her, then she passes the Earth Trial.

I do get that it’s meant to be ‘let yourself love him even if he hurts you sometimes’ BUT it does feel like we’re yo-yoing motivations for Keyleth here. She was ready for Vax to love her after Percy died, despite him hurting her in the previous episodes.

By focussing on Vax, we don’t get to the root issues Keyleth has with Raishan. She’s grieving her people, and feels anger and rage. The solution is she needs to love. But what if it happens again, when someone lets her down who isn’t Vax?

Instead her solution is to just murder Raishan solo, but she doesn’t learn to lean on anyone, or let anyone in who isn’t Vax.

There’s a line in the death letter in the campaign from Percy to Vox Machina, the part addressed to Keyleth: learn to forgive the world for not living up to your standards. It can be considered patronising, but it’s true. Keyleth is the most moral, ‘preachy’ member of Vox Machina. TLOVM avoids this characterisation — I think it’s fine in season one where she’s finding her inner strength but should be leaning into her morality after she finds her voice. After all, wouldn’t being leader of the air Ashari mean you’d confront these problems all day? But taking focus away from Keyleth’s problems with Raishan (that aren’t just ‘VM betrayed me over her’) and making the resolution just be loving Vax, we’re not confronting or delving into Keyleth as a character in her own right. It attempts to, but the yo-yo nature of the Vaxleth relationship in season three just means we spend more time on arguments and less time on the deeper reasons why they’re at odds.

What I would propose:

Ep 1: Vax and Keyleth both mutually agree that they’re not able to be in a relationship: Keyleth unsure about it outliving everyone (cut Vax’s stupid visions) and Vax is unsure of his destiny with the RQ. This cuts out the repetitive arguments and conflict in the first half. They’re both on the same page, they’re just both stupid.

Cut the ep 3 argument (don’t worry humour lovers, Vax can still be outside her door, wondering if he should knock so he bumps into Percy).

Eps 4-6, Instead of Keyleth being mad at Vax, focus more in on Keyleth’s general rage and grief at Raishan. Vax wants to comfort her but neither are allowing themselves to get too close.

Keep ep 6 awkward chat after the hot tub.

Keep ep 8 banging, but before this add in Percy’s death letter (to make everything extra sad)

Ep 10-11 (I’d rework Ripley’s death to be Ep 7 or 8 so Keyleth isn’t alone) but have Keyleth’s trial be more about the group as a whole and how the people around her ground her to face problems: she can’t do this solo, that completing her trials means she needs to understand leadership, and it means working with people she thinks are going to be wrong, and that includes her friends, and how to navigate that and let the anger go. She talks with Grog before the trial about how he controls his rage: it’s family.

Then Keyleth bodies Raishan with the help of her friends in Ep 12 :) then Vaxleth smooch

Keyleth in the campaign is the most moral and preachy member. Some said it was annoying, I say it’s interesting. But in TLOVM, her arc is flattened down and tied to romance. Vax is incredibly important to her in the campaign but he’s not the only thing that matters to her.

But alas, romance over characterisation or themes is a predominant issue in TLOVM, especially with Vaxleth.

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

october 1, 2021 4:15 p.m. grant's house

[juhani] hello? grant, can i call you tomorrow? it’s late.

[grant] no, you can’t. i know it’s 11 o’clock where you are right now, and i don’t really care. you answered, so you’ve trapped yourself.

[varpu, faintly] juha, if you don’t talk now, he will never call you back.

[juhani] i want to speak with you, of course i do, it’s just–

[grant] fantastic, because that’s what we’re doing. we’re talking! i have 30 years of stuff to get off my chest, and i'm sure you have your own piece to share. not sure where to start, but.

[juhani] may i ask you a question? what did you overhear at dinner the other night? are you upset i'm moving? is that it?

[grant] i mean, that stung a little after the whole “i’ll be around to build a relationship with you,” thing, but i gave you my express permission to go home, so it’s whatever. we are both adults, so i am not going to fault you for making adult decisions that improve your life. i'm more upset by you claiming you didn’t tell me about your plans or include me in the moving and wedding stuff and whatever because i'm difficult.

[juhani] that’s not what–

[grant] oh, come on. don’t kid yourself. you said it yourself, anything involving me is like pulling teeth. i heard it loud and clear.

[juhani] well, when i tell you things, you never react well. it always goes precisely like this conversation is going.

[grant] really? never? because i remember being pretty positive about your proposal and about you contacting me in the first place and about coming to dinner to acquaint myself with varpu’s kids and about meeting varpu a while back…

[grant] what i react poorly to is you leaving me out, you calling me difficult, you complaining about me in front of impressionable people, etcetera.

[juhani] i don’t want to leave you out.

[grant] that’s what varpu said, too, but i didn’t believe her, so why would i believe you?

[juhani] i have no idea how to interact with you. i've apologized to you, told you i regret the events of your childhood. nothing works.

[grant] do you regret it? because it kind of just feels like you’re doing the same shit again. abandoning me for your own self-interests. oh, and this time you’re replacing me with a brand new family you treat better.

[juhani] i'm not repl–okay, what would you prefer me do when you push me away? you told me i was difficult.

[grant] when did i say that? i mean, that's true, sure, but i would not say that to you. what i probably said that you’re misconstruing is that talking to you is hard because i'm not comfortable around you.

[juhani] and how long will it take you to be comfortable around me? i don’t know what else you want me to do. truly, i don’t, and it is not pleasant to be rejected endlessly.

[grant] well, i'd have to forgive you, but i don’t. if forgiveness was meant to happen, it would not be instant. you’d have to keep trying with me, even if i piss you off, even if i push you away. you’re my fucking father, it’s your job. you show up for your kid even if they’re horrible or annoying. you never turn your back on them. but, you know, you didn’t show up for the first 22 years you were around, so you’d have to try extra hard now to change my mind.

[grant] but honestly, i will never be comfortable around you. i've realized that over the last few days. i did actually think if you just kept trying, i'd relax and be less on edge, but nope. you could become an honest-to-god saint tomorrow, and i'll still be furious because nothing will make me understand why you couldn’t have been a decent person when i was a kid. like, when i needed you.

[grant] and i don’t get why you weren't. i don't. i'm serious. i can’t comprehend it. clearly, you have it in you to be a decent person. you love varpu's kids. you're fatherly towards them. you take them on vacation, you invite them to house and wedding venue tours, you tell them about and include them in your hobbies, you remember details about them, you smile at them without being forced, you go to their weddings and don’t flip out about them being queer even though you were viscerally disgusted with me when you found out–

[juhani] you shouldn’t bring them into this. it isn’t fair. and i've taken you on vacation before, for one.

[grant] i am being petty, but i think it's fair because i'm not shitting on them specifically. and yeah, okay, you took me on vacation once. you took me to finland exactly once, but i never met your family, and i remember nothing other than the plane rides.

[grant] and you shouldn’t do this. we don’t need to split hairs. you don’t need to crawl through that list of grievances and “well, actually” me as many times as you can manage. one vacation changes nothing. that does not erase all the times you sat there like a lame duck and ignored me or mocked me or let my mother abuse me. there is nothing for you to pat yourself on the back about.

[grant] nothing.

[juhani] so, what are you upset about now?

[grant] why?

[juhani] why what?

[grant] why are you like this? why were you a terrible father? why have no heart for me or my sisters? why did you save all your love for someone else’s kids?

[grant] oh, and how about cerise? you sure didn’t care about your bastard kids either, did you?

[grant] shit. i'm sorry. that just kind of came out. that’s not how i wanted to, you know, pepper that into this conversation. i was going to save that for the end.

[juhani] how do you know about her?

[grant] doesn't matter. it's a long story.

[grant] on that note, what is up with the secret daughter? how’d that happen? is she the only one, too, or should i be on the lookout for any other siblings? and hey, you only divorced my mother in the last few years, so you were cheating. how many times did you fuck around on her, and why would you? you wouldn’t divorce her because you were afraid of her, but apparently it's no big deal to cheat.

[juhani] grant, how can i answer you if you don't allow me to talk? cerise’s mother michelle is a doctor. your mother and i were both at a conference in detroit about healthcare outreach, and…

[juhani] i know it seems contradictory, given how long i stayed with your mother, but i was unhappy in the marriage. i met michelle there at the conference, and she was kind and intelligent, and i suppose the rest of the story should be obvious to you.

[grant] goddamn, man. i hate my mother, but that’s bold: sleeping with another woman right in front of her face.

[grant] did she ever find out?

[juhani] eventually. you remember how she was with the finances. she tracked all the money going in and out of the household. you couldn’t have one cent go missing without being accused of something, and she’d always blame it on some incident with her brother and start ranting about him.

[juhani] look, the agreement with michelle was that i'd stay out of her life and send child support, and she wouldn’t interfere with my family either. i used to lie and tell your mother the child support funds were going somewhere important, but she didn't believe me very long. she did finally question me and find out the truth.

[grant] and?

[juhani] in hindsight, her reaction reminds me a lot of the one she had when you lashed out at her during your graduation dinner. very little left her speechless, but that did. initially, i should clarify. she would go on to never let me live cerise’s existence down.

[juhani] and to answer your question, as far as i know, cerise is the only other child.

[grant] as far as you know?

[juhani] i cannot rule out further surprises.

[grant] jesus christ. my grandmother is right, all men are dogs, but you most of all.

[juhani] does it upset you that much?

[grant] again, i don’t like my mother, but if i needed any more proof that you’re more spineless than a sea sponge, this is it. you were so unhappy with my mother that you’d cheat on her, but you’d not divorce her when your kids were vulnerable.

[grant] you disgust me. you slept around and thought with your dick before you spared a single thought for the kids you let my mother abuse. or for yourself! fuck you. if you’re going to be that selfish, at least be selfish enough to prioritize yourself and leave the woman making you that miserable!

[grant] and now i don’t believe you when you say you wouldn’t leave her back then because you were scared of her. do you seriously mean to tell me it’s less terrifying to cheat on her than to just walk out of the house and never come back?

[grant] i did that, you know? when i'd had enough of my mother, i told her as much and then never spoke to her again. and guess what? wouldn’t you be so stunned to find out she’s never tracked me down, never tried to call or email to reel me back in? she left me alone after i told her to go fuck herself!

[grant] and technically, you know it's possible to leave her, too. what did you say about the divorce? that she just rolled over and let you do it and was fine with you just coughing up all the assets and dipping?

[grant] exhibits A, B, and C that she’s a coward, too. she thinks she’s the boss, but if you fight back hard enough, she gives up. you could have left her at any point in time.

[grant] god. oh my god. you stupid, spineless motherfucker. i thought i'd maxed out on anger. apparently not!

[grant] you really could have been a better father. you could have had your whole little life overhaul decades ago, and you could have saved the entire family so much pain. you, me, elizabeth, kelly…

[grant] i should have suspected as much, and i guess i did, but it's shocking to realize over and over just how useless you are as a father. i think it can't get any worse and then it does. you are a complete and utter failure as a parent.

[grant] this is why i can’t forgive you. you didn’t have to mess up so badly. but no. whatever you got out of the relationship was enough to convince you to sit there and watch my mother ruin all of us, and even thought you weren't happy with her, you got by with fucking other women and only regretted staying a billion years later when you noticed you had nothing of substance left in life but my mother. and that’s a pretty depressing way to live, isn’t it?

[juhani] i stayed because i thought we deserved each other.

[grant] with that attitude, maybe you did.

[grant] listen, i'll admit this, no problem. it’s no one’s fault that she is the way that she is. it’s not even yours. she’s abusive, and what she does to other people is her fault and her responsibility. she’s excellent, too, at convincing you to just go along with it and never question her. it's not that hard to get caught in her trap at first, and she will try her very best to break you. but at some point, you have to question anyway. at some point, you have to recognize you deserve better and do something about it.

[grant] but you didn’t. not until it was too late for it to mean anything.

[grant] i would never think i've done everything right, but in the end, i've respected myself enough to make better choices and do something about the situation i was in, and i've had to do that because the adults in my life weren’t responsible or organized enough to fix things before responsibility fell into my hands.

[juhani] you are a braver and a better man than i.

[grant] i'm glad i am, but do you know how exhausting it is to be brave all the time?

[grant] i am because you weren’t. it is entirely because you failed. you weren’t brave enough to give a fuck about yourself or your kids, so i've had to be brave my entire life. brave enough to survive my childhood, then brave enough to leave. and guess what? i don’t want to be brave. i just want to exist. and back then, i just wanted to be a kid.

[grant] just a kid.

[grant] i wanted to come home from school and play with my pokemon cards and hear my mom and my dad say, “hi honey! how was your day? we love you!" i didn’t want to live in fear of what horror would befall me each and every day.

[grant] fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. you stole my childhood. you stole elizabeth’s childhood. you stole kelly’s childhood.

[grant] you and my mother, but you could have done something. you could have given us our childhoods back. you could have done something! you should have done something!

[grant] you didn’t have to do everything right even. parents mess up, i know that, but you could have at least tried. the bar was on the floor. i would have over the moon living in a single parent household with a father who at least showed up to my hockey games if he wasn’t busy at work and gave me a hug every once in a while.

[grant] and you know what, you did more than steal our childhoods. because you couldn’t stand to sacrifice your comfort long enough to take care of your kids, we all have to live in permanent hell. i have to spend the rest of my life freaking out when someone walks up behind me or speaks too loudly or–god forbid–touches me! it took me years to finally learn not to flinch when someone high fives me! and kelly–i don’t know what she deals with, but i know her life can’t be peaceful.

[grant] again, i am not blaming you for what my mother did–i know she was not kind to you either– but i do blame you for not even trying to stop her or get away from her. you were an adult with power, and you didn't use an ounce of it. actually, you did use it, just not for good. you threw me specifically under the bus because it was easier to let my mother use me as a punching bag than you.

[juhani] you’re right.

[juhani] you’re right, grant.

[grant] i have nothing else to say, short of "fuck you" again. i think i'm done yelling at you.

[grant] no, wait, one last thing. what did you even see in my mother in the first place? what was so enticing about her that you’d stay with her so long and ditch your college sweetheart for her?

[juhani] i don’t know. i don’t know anymore.

[grant] i guess it was two people drawn to each other's misery.

[grant] great. well, that’s all, folks.

[grant] good luck with the new family. maybe you can make it right with someone else and enjoy a totally fresh start because you will never make it right with me, and i will never let you forget what you did to me and my sisters. and don’t lose varpu again, by the way. she is, like, far out of your league–so far it's not even funny–and you are lucky to have this second chance with her and to have a good relationship with her kids.

[grant] also, just so it's clear, i don't want to speak to you anymore after this. don't call me, i won't call you either, except in one circumstance. i'll consider it on the day my mother kicks the bucket. we can toast to the end of that chapter of our lives and hope that the haunting ends. because surely you have to feel a little haunted, too, right? i have a sinking suspicion that’s why you reconnected with me. you don’t care about me. you care about that fresh start, about making yourself feel better about wasting your life and fucking up everyone around you.

[inhuman-obey-me]

Congrats on 100k likes!! Is there any more room or space left? If so, Belphegor and 7 pls!

Thank you!! And you're the lucky last one we're doing. <3

Belphegor + 7 | "Better Days" - Currents

cw: depression talk

It's said that when humans have a sleep paralysis demon haunting them, they often feel an unyielding weight upon their bodies, rendering them unable to move. It's a tried and true trick that Belphegor knows quite well.

"Is this what it feels like?" he muses, sprawled out on his bed as he stares at the ceiling, eyes tracing a pattern of painted stars. He's been doing this for the past ten hours, unable to get himself up to do much of anything else. The weight pressing down on him was suffocating, so why did he also find it so oddly comforting? Had he just gotten used to the heaviness? Used to the hole that had dug itself deep into his chest?

"Belphie, you haven't eaten anything all day." Beelzebub's voice draws him out of his thoughts. Lazily turning his head to meet his twin's gaze, he lets out a long sigh.

"Not hungry."

Beelzebub frowns, crumbs littering his face as he chews on whatever he just stuffed into his mouth. It's clear he wants to say something, but he instead plops down on the floor beside Belphegor's bed, leaning back and pulling out another snack to munch on. The seventh-born almost wants to tell him to leave, but he knows it'll get him nowhere — Beelzebub always knew when something was wrong.

"…Do you ever miss it?"

"Mish wha?" His brother responds, his mouth full.

"The Celestial Realm." Belphegor's fingers curl into fists, his brows furrowed as he turns to look at the wall. "Being an angel."

He can hear Beel pause his chewing before resuming at a quicker pace. After a few moments, Belphegor feels the bed tilt and move, Beelzebub now having lifted himself to sit on its edge.

"I mean, yeah. Sometimes." Beelzebub shifts. "It was a big part of our lives, so it's only natural, right? But I'm happy to be a demon now too, and to be here with our family, which is what's really important."

"Except for Lilith."

"…Yeah. Except for Lilith." His twin deflates. "…What's on your mind, Belphie?"

"Sometimes it feels like I'm the only one who just gets stuck." The words are bitter on his tongue, frustration rising in his voice. "I'm glad we finally found out the truth about what happened to her, but it doesn't erase the fact that she's gone. Everyone else just…moved on! And I'm just here."

That suffocating yet comforting weight, keeping him in place.

"…Are you here? It sounds more like you're there." With a forceful tap on Belphegor's shoulder, Beelzebub makes him turn towards him. "I…get it. You know I do. I still feel guilty — and yes, I know," he stops Belphie from interrupting, "…it's not my fault, it couldn't be helped. But I still feel that way. So sometimes I feel like I'm more there, you know." He scratches the back of his neck, trying to find the right words. "Mammon and Asmo talk a lot about 'living in the moment', and I think I get it. We can't change the past, but we can hold onto what we have right now, like each other."

"…Really? You got your great advice from those two?" Belphegor groans, but it's hard to hide the hint of a smile on his lips. "I think they're probably talking more about partying and doing something stupid."

"Probably, but it doesn't change what I said." Beelzebub stands up, holding out a hand to his brother with a determined look. "So, how about we try living in the moment right now? Maybe we can even go do something stupid."

A low chuckle, and it's like the weight lessens. A knowing sigh, and it lessens again. Belphegor reaches out to take the other's hand, letting himself get dragged off the bed.

"Okay. But don't blame me if Lucifer gets mad."

[kitthepurplepotato]

Chapter 21 - Let’s ignore the elephant in the room.

Summary: Y/N learns more about the people who live in Izuku’s head. No, she doesn’t think Izuku needs to see a therapist. Izuku already does that anyway.

Izuku also acts weird when it comes to the Hero Gala… what is he hiding?

(Is this how you write a summary? Hell, I’ve been away for too long.)

First Chapter Master List Ko-fi

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Somewhere in the near future

Y/N’s Diary entry #145

Life has been great. Too great, to be honest.

I was loved and appreciated and my side hustle helped me to get enough money to feel safe in case something goes wrong. No more stress about being a burden or feeling useless. Sounds great, right?

It was… it was great. Everything was splendid.

I knew something will happen in the future. I knew it can’t stay this good forever.

But I didn’t think the reality will hit me this hard.

The funny thing is, that it isn’t even about me. My life is still… great. But seeing my loved ones in so much pain is worse than being in it myself. The tears, the loud sobs, the sound of choking on air in the middle of a breakdown… these things live in my head rent-free, they keep me up at night and mess up my mornings and I hate how I’m completely unable to do anything to help my loved ones.

~•~

“I know we usually go from number ten to number one, but tonight… it will be different.” The entrepreneur announced on the hero gala without a single smile, shaking and kinda broken. No one clapped. They just sat in silence, their eyes the size of saucers, their anxiety clear even through the screen of the TV. “I have a letter from our favorite number one pro hero, Deku. Now let me read it for you.”

I knew right at that moment… that things won’t be same anymore.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Back to the present.

“Do you think we went a bit unhinged in there?” You mumble to yourself as you enjoy the hot water of the onsen. Izuku looks at you questioningly, not really understanding what this is about; feeling his gaze on you after everything you two have just done it’s a little bit… well… embarrassing? No, it’s not the right word to use. It’s a pleasant feeling but it also makes you shy away a little bit. You feel like that meme that’s circulating the internet about wives getting shy around their long-term husbands after getting… well… loved hard. Now, there is two problems with this; first of all, it was your first time with him (plus you’ve only been together for a few months), second of all, your time together was anything but… hard. It was soft but scorching hot like a marshmallow being cooked by a fireplace. It was the exact opposite of what that wife was going through in that one meme.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… we are a bit too much, aren’t we?” You try to make yourself a bit easier to understand and by the look of it, Izuku gets it; but instead of getting shy about it, he just gives you a massive, adorable smile then moves into your personal space to answer you while your lips are almost touching.

This man will be the death of you.

“Is it weird to be obsessed with my girlfriend?” Izuku closes the distance, his lips moving on your own as he speaks. It makes your heart beat out of rhythm and you feel the familiar warmth in your tummy again, only half an hour after your cheeky shenanigans.

You blame it on the hot water, because otherwise… How insatiable can you be?!

“I mean, it might look weird to other people. But I guess I’m no better than you and if you are okay with it then so am I?” You answer with your eyes half lidded, anticipating the kiss you are so hungry for.

“I don’t give a fuck what others think, Sweets. Not when it comes to you.” Izuku grumbles in a deep voice and finally puts his lips back on yours for a chaste kiss. You can’t help but giggle.

“Did Kacchan’s soul just infiltrate you for a second there?”

“Nah, but my answer was heavily influenced by one of the vestiges inside me. He doesn’t talk much but when he does, he has a strong opinion.”

“They… talk to you?” You look up at your boyfriend with pure wonder. This is the first time you hear about this; he told you about feeling the old wielders inside him but he never clarified on what level he can communicate with them. In your head, you thought it’s more like a second conscience, like you can feel it when they are angry or happy about whatever is happening around Izuku but that’s about it.

“Yeah, I…” Izuku moves his face away from you but his arm snakes around your middle to pull you closer. You put your head on his chest, ready to hear his story. It’s something you do quite frequently; you put your head on his chest or in his lap while Izuku tells you unheard tales about stuff he’s been through. “You see, it’s really embarrassing to tell someone that there are several other people living inside my head, taking over my own thoughts sometimes. I don’t want to end up in a mental hospital… not like you would ever do something like that, but… I’m sorry I kept this a secret.”

“How does it work?” You take Izuku’s free hand in your own and start playing with it, trying your best not to sound so nosy. You fail.

“They… well… uhh, this is so hard.” He giggles. “They aren’t constant… they jump into my head once in a while when they have a strong opinion about something but they let me live my own life and they try their best not to interfere nor influence my decisions. They talk to me during battles, help me with strategies, I can also close my eyes and talk to them if I want to or need to. During my dark days, right after the accident I sometimes managed to completely zone them out. They weren’t happy about that.” Izuku admits.

“What were they thinking about us?” You try to change the topic because there is no way in hell you want Izuku to start getting all nostalgic and sad right now.

“They teased the shit out of me for being a coward. They knew about my feelings sooner than I did. They haven’t said too much but when they did they were… let’s just say I have a full ass “SweetZuku” ship gang inside my head.” He giggles, leaving a tiny kiss on the top of your head. “Don’t worry, they love you. Especially the first wielder. And the second, even if he denies it.”

“Tell them I said hi.” You mutter sleepily, way too comfortable in this position.

“You made them really happy by saying that. Maybe, in the future we could try and talk to them together.” Izuku smiles, elated from being understood.

“I would love that. Thank you, Izu… and the gang.” You giggle, moving your head towards Izuku’s to give him another kiss.

“I hope this kiss is only for me though. I’m a really giving guy, but I’m not sharing you.”

You laugh out loud; this reminds you of the time when Izuku got so jealous of that poor fan who asked for a selfie with you that his black whip came out in the middle of a meet and greet, scaring the shit out of the staff while the fans just took it as “fan service” and wrote poems about how cool it was to see black whip in action.

“I’m aware of that, Izu. Way too aware.” You giggle yourself as you keep peppering kisses on your boyfriend’s mouth.

“Sorry, it won’t change.” Izuku announces proudly and you are so proud of him that you are about to cry; this might sound like a red flag from anyone else, but seeing Izuku finally sticking to his opinion instead of trying to change for other people is such a big step up compared to his old self you can’t help but feel pride swelling in your chest because hell, you did that. It was a long struggle but finally, your work has payed off.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I know you wouldn’t harm anyone nor me and it’s in your rights to be protective over your loved one so please, keep being jealous, it’s kinda hot, anyway.”

“Wow.” Izuku looks at you incredulously, extremely entertained by your answer. “I’ll… do my best to be healthily jealous then. I love the way you looked at me when I said that. In your words - it was kinda hot.” He gives you a massive grin.

“Going back to our original conversation…” you give Izuku a knowing smile. “We are really weird, but I really fucking like it.”

“That’s my girl.”

… yeah, you are definitely insatiable. There is no other explanation to why are you two heavily making out in the scorching hot onsen right now, absolutely ignoring the dizziness from being in the hot water for so long.

“Jesus Christ, can you stop making out so loud?!” Comes Kyouka’s voice from the other side of the massive privacy fence. “I’m trying to relax here!”

“Wanna take this to the bedroom, Sweets?” Izuku looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I heard that!”

“He knows!” You yell to your friend as you crawl out of the water, stumbling to your towel while Izuku’s eyes move from your head to your toes shamelessly, clearly enjoying the “5 star view”. You really want to comment on it but after doing the same only a few hours ago, you have no rights to do so. “Come on, let Kyouka enjoy her solitude.”

“Yes, madam!”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Yup, they fucked.” Kaminari declares with a straight face, once he opens the door.

You really want to lie and say you have no idea why Kaminari thinks that’s true, because surprisingly enough, you did look into the mirror before and coming here and you did try to sort yourself out but… there are things you can’t really hide with make up; for instance, your eyes that shine like a fucking star got stuck in your irises or Izuku’s puffy lips and pink neck, still ruddy from all the kisses.

After the onsen… you two… well… uhm…

Let’s just say you couldn’t forget how Izu said he’s never done certain things in bed and that he was always on the giving side and never on the receiving side… So once you two were inside the four walls you decided to show him some other things he might have missed. You are quite sure you lost your voice during the “process” but it was absolutely worth it and Izuku got hooked on the new type of intimacy and came up with ideas of his own and… well, yeah. You are limping a little bit. Just a tiny bit. Mostly because of all the “leg training” but there’s also that other factor that you can’t even say out loud because you two are too fucking sweet to say those things. And all of these things had happened out of love so… there is no need to make it sound dirty. You two had a good time but maybe went a bit too far. Oh well, it happens.

“I really have an urge to yell about the audacity of coming to my humble abode looking like a wreck but if I would need to suffer another day with you two eye fucking each other at my table I’d probably explode myself to the other world, so just shut up and sit down.” Katsuki mutters, also with a straight face and Eijirou just sighs at that.

“At least they are not denying it. I remember you telling everyone a week ago that you got beaten up in a “secret mission” when…”

“OH MY GOD THERE WAS NO SECRET MISSION?!” Denki hollers out loud. “

“Nope. Just me. Sorry.” Eijirou gives the group the biggest grin known to mankind, not even flinching when Katsuki slaps him in the face with a kitchen towel.

After the group is finally distracted, everyone sits down to eat another gorgeous meal made by Katsuki himself, mostly talking about hero stuff and Rody’s shenanigans. The night goes well, until Kyouka brings up the hero rankings. Izuku’s whole body stiffens next to you as Kyouka starts to talk about the dress she decided on for the big event next week; the whole gang chimes in with their own choice of clothing, showing pictures on their phones back and forth, completely indifferent to the turmoil in Izuku who just stares at his leftovers and plays with a little pea in his bowl. You wordlessly try to console him by taking his clenched hand into yours; he clenches it so hard you almost yell out loud from the pain.

Something is wrong. Really wrong.

“What are you gonna wear to the Gala, Izuku?” Kirishima asks, eyes full of excitement but it changes into a look of concern once he takes a better look at the greenette.

“I’m not going to this one.”

Someone’s butter knife hits the table. Someone chokes on their drink. Everyone processes the information differently but one thing is identical; everyone looks at Izuku like he’d grown another head.

“You can’t be fucking serious.” Kyouka looks at Izuku, utterly dumbfounded.

“You are the Number One hero of this country.” Katsuki sneers. “It’s your fucking responsibility to show your cute little freckled face and make sure people know you are still there for them.” Katsuki said these words with venom in his voice; you are extremely surprised to hear Katsuki’s tone so harsh.

“I’m not there for them though, am I?” Izuku snaps back with his eyes full of tears. “I can’t fight their battles. I can’t help them. You can’t possibly ask me to show up and be all smiley and “cute” when my whole fucking career is in shambles!”

Everyone steps back for a second. There is an awkward, tension-filled silence at the table and you have no idea what to do; Izuku’s words make sense but they also don’t and you really don’t know who to stand with.

“Like it or not, he has a point.” Eijirou puts his hand on Katsuki’s shoulder. “As you can see, he’s still not okay. Let him sit this one out. It’s not worth ruining his amazing day.”

“He ruined it for himself when he started fucking yelling at me.” Katsuki stands up from the table, clearly shaken up by the whole situation; Katsuki might look like a strong person but he’s actually really sensitive; you can clearly see how wet his eyes are when he stomps into his room and slams the door on everyone.

“Kacchan!” Izuku is the next one to leave the table, running after the blonde with nothing but guilt in his teary eyes. Everyone just stares at the drama in utter silence, not really sure how to help or what to do to save this evening.

Thankfully, the fact that everyone at this table is an grown ass adult, the drama sizzles out after half an hour; Izuku and Katsuki emerges from the bedroom after some yelling and banging is heard from the other side of the door; their eyes are red rimmed and cheeks blotchy but they have their arms around each other’s shoulders and everything looks “okay”; or at least for the rest of the group who sigh happily when the two joins the Netflix-binge on the couch. Not you, though. You look at Izuku intensely, you look at the way his mouth smiles but the edges are still facing downwards, and you realize that something is still wrong; Izuku is hiding something, from the group, and from you.

Something is wrong but everyone ignores it, too happy to have the “good vibes back”.

You really feel the urge to yell at the group to look closely, to find a solution for the problem before someone gets hurt but all these heroes worked their asses off to have these few days off and you don’t have the heart to ruin their good time nor ruin Izuku’s only time where he can be out and about, far away from those four walls he is not used to be surrounded by for more than a few hours.

Will this decision bite you in the ass in the near future? Probably. Will you regret this decision a few days later? Yes… But you can’t help but smile when Izuku’s weird half-smile becomes a real one as he sits down on the sofa, snuggles into your arms while his legs end up on Katsuki’s lap who plays with the hem of his trousers in a weird, affectionate way.

“Are you okay?” You mutter into Izuku’s ears.

“No.” Izuku admits and your whole world turns upside down. “But one day…” he looks around his friends, who are all snuggled together on the sofa enjoying each other’s company, not knowing when the next time will be when they can be together like this. “One day, I’ll be okay. And that’s good. I’m happy with that for now. Sometimes, it needs to get worse before it gets better, you know.” Izuku smiles at you with a sad, but genuine smile and your heart skips a beat once again. You are so far gone for this man it’s ridiculous.

“It will all make sense, eventually.” You leave a tiny kiss on Izuku’s fluffy curls and turn back towards the TV. “I’m not worried, because if you ever get lost, I’ll be there to show you the right way.”

“And I’m counting on it.” Izuku smiles, but somehow, the sentence brought some weird eerie vibe into the room.

You try your best to read between the lines but you feel like there is a missing piece to this puzzle.

Ahh, let’s not overthink it for today. There is always a “tomorrow” to sort that shit out.

… to be continued!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

TL: @garfieldthomas @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @aei-sedai-moiraine @aymasakusa @katsuari @kenzie-deadly @shiviwrites07 @lukerycyja-reblogs @cloroxisadelectabletreat @coffeent @kisskissshutmydoor @bobcar1 @yazminetrahan @cringefan @ronimacaroni77 @themultifandomgirl @dangerousluv1 @emperatris-rinaka @shotos-angelic-whore @angelsdemonsmonsters @norvacaine @rei165 @unofficialmuilover @yao-ai @happydragonfrog @eeerreehhh @vinivave @alyss-eiz @sleepisfortheweakpooh

Potato ramble:

- Long time no see, guys. I know I have a lot of explanation to do but I’ll spare you from the gruesome details as I genuinely think no one deserves to even go through all the shit I’ve suffered even through another person.

But if you want to get a short version then here you are, but you don’t need to read it if you don’t want to.

The short story is: I’ve had two traumatic experiences in the last 3 years which made me extremely weak mentally but I always pushed through by saying “until this one person is with me I’ll be fine.” Well, this person stabbed me in the back in the most evil way, while I was the weakest, which ended up completely ruining me and traumatizing me once more (therapist’s words, not mine, I’m not being overly dramatic, just factual.) I live far away from my small family (2 hours with a plane) and I didn’t want to run away from my new home as I knew I’ll never have the balls to come back all alone so I had to endure all of my mental struggles without my family’s support. The only reason I’m still alive is my friends and my family who worked their asses off to keep me alive through the phone, and my work colleagues who never let me out of their sight and called me over so I don’t have time to think. I also have a therapist now which does wonders. So yeah, I literally didn’t have the mental energy to even give you guys a heads up.

I’m still struggling and I’ll probably never be the same but I’m trying my hardest; I gained all the weight back that I’ve lost (I was 45 kg to start with so me losing weight really wasn’t a good thing, I literally looked like a skeleton it was a nightmare), I started working out (in a healthy way) and I’m trying to get back to my old self. Please be patient with me.

- I have 3 or four chapters already written hence I decided to start posting again! I wanted to wait until the full story is done but I miss communicating with you and I also like to hear your thoughts before I write a chapter hence I decided to yolo it and start posting but please be patient with me. I still have breakdowns sometimes and I’m having a hard time writing about romantic things as my whole life is in shambles. But I really like this story (and the Kirishima one too! You will need to wait a little bit longer though 😭) so I decided to try and finish it.

- On a more positive note; look at my new rainbow flat! There is MHA in every single corner, even in the toilet btw, I’m living that best single life right now with my purple sofa, a magenta rug and fairy lights! With that said, see you in the next chapter! Please send me your thoughts 🩷 (Also, there is some angst incoming but this is the last one. Only good things after that!)

[sylusonychinus]

I absolutely adore It’s Okay If You Forget Me. I was wondering if you could write a similar concept with Caleb where the reader isn’t the MC.

Loosing my head

Pairings: Caleb x Reader

warning: Angst Good luck readers

What did I say? What did I do? I can feel it in my chest—the weight of it all pressing down on me. My thoughts are tangled up in knots, every word we’ve said, every look exchanged, echoing in my mind. This isn't how it was supposed to be. It never was.

I watch you from across the room, your back to me. The silence between us is suffocating, a thick fog I can’t break through. There was a time when this room, this space, felt like our own world. When I could look into your eyes and feel the fire that burned between us—when nothing else mattered.

Just yesterday, you said, your smile a light in the dark. We were laughing, sharing quiet moments, everything so effortless. I remember how your hand brushed mine, and for a moment, everything felt... perfect.

I wasn’t always good at this. Relationships were never something I was taught to navigate. But with you, it felt different. You made me feel like I could be someone better. Like, maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t a lost cause. The way you cared for me—it was something I never thought I deserved. And I let myself fall for you. Completely.

But now? Now, all I feel is distance. And it’s killing me.

I close my eyes, trying to push the thoughts away, but they're relentless.

I remember that night. The first time I saw you after everything started changing. We were sitting at that café, the sun setting just right, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple.

“I’m not sure about this anymore, Caleb.” Your voice was so small, so unsure, that it sent a chill straight through me. It was like the world had shifted beneath us, and neither of us had noticed until it was too late.

“What do you mean?” I’d asked, panic rising in my chest. I didn’t know what I was afraid of—the possibility of losing you or the reality of it all hitting me.

You didn’t answer right away, and when you finally did, it was with a softness that made my stomach drop. “I think... I think we’re not moving in the same direction anymore.”

Those words—they still echo. Not because of what you said, but because I couldn't hear it. I didn’t want to hear it.

“We can fix this,” I’d pleaded, desperate, my voice rising a little louder than I intended. “We just need to talk. We can work through it.”

But you shook your head, eyes filled with something I couldn’t touch anymore. “I don’t know, Caleb. I don’t know if I can anymore.”

Now, all I can feel is the aftermath. The way we’ve been spinning in circles, trying to hold onto something that’s already slipping through our fingers. You take me so high, only for us to fall, again and again. And each time, it feels like we’re getting farther apart.

I take a shaky breath. Every day feels like we’re just falling. Falling from some kind of high that I can’t even remember anymore. What happened to the love we used to have? The kind of love that made everything else fade away. I want that back. I need that back.

But I don’t know how to stop this free-fall. How do we fix something that's been broken for so long, when every word we say seems to push us further into the dark?

You’re still standing there, distant, and the ache in my chest grows. I could reach for you, but what if it’s already too late? What if everything we’ve fought for is already gone? What if I lost you the moment I stopped listening, the moment I thought things would just magically fall into place?

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, though I don’t know if I’m apologizing to you or to myself. The words feel too small for everything we’ve gone through. But I don’t know what else to say.

You don’t answer, but I feel the weight of your silence settle over me like a heavy blanket. And I’m left standing here, in the cold, holding on to nothing but the memory of the way we used to be.

a/n: i tried to make it really angsty :33 also some of this may come from personal experience

[itscamile222]

question, if our consciousness can't die won't we get sick of existing? imagine constantly reincarnating forever (and remembering it), itd torture me at some point, + if you don't remember it makes life seem realistically pointless since your belief will always be different and you won't find the reason/escape (shifting), live. die. life. die (physically). imagine dying and reincarnating but not remembering anything and having to live a life that could be horrible over and over again, this only sounds horrible because we are aware and know 'other solutions' and because i personally think it doesnt sound pleasant either. doesn't it seem pretty wise for all of us to follow a God and go to heaven or hell? isn't God objective, so it's not like our beliefs could even change the fact that he exists so even if we believed in reincarnation once the day of judgement happens (which God has control of every universe) we'd kinda just.... shift to heaven or hell?! idk but it seems pretty sad to me that people are dedicating their entire lives worshipping God and following strict rules just to know that you could just go to heaven if you assume. so I kinda feel like theres a limit when it comes to God, especially how God objectively judges us. sorry if this sounds rude. I've genuinely been confused for months

it’s vey rare to remember other lives… it’s like your consciousness erase everything at the beginning of a new one. every life you have lived (because don’t think this is the first one) and every life you will live are probably completely different. different backstory, different race, religion, face, hobbies. reincarnation doesn’t mean living your life over and over again but different lives. every one find escape in different things. for us might be shifting, for others it’s art, for others religion.

i’m catholic (i’m not very religious though), but i don’t believe in heaven or hell. i do believe something created existence, but i honestly don’t believe in what the church and the bible say, since they’re both human created. this ain’t going to be a discussion about religion because that’s not the point. anyway, i don’t think religion would be pointless as you said. if you believe something is real, it simply is. if you believe god is real, then he is. same if you believe he is not, he isn’t. if you dedicate your life to something you believe in, it’s not pointless

i’m writing an essay about all of this, death, shifting and even a bit of religion. i’ll explain myself better and further there :)

[canirove]

Canary boy | Chapter 12

Previous chapter | Next chapter (coming out on Friday)

Masterlist

“Here she comes, our player of the match!” Carla says.

“Oh, stop it” I laugh, sitting down next to her in the bus.

“You played amazing today, Inés” Aitana says from the seat opposite to ours. “And this whole week you've had such energy during training! You need to tell us what you ate in Tenerife.”

“Do you seriously have to ask?” Carla laughs. “She tasted some really good plátano de Canarias” she smirks.

“Eating good bananas has made you play better?” Aitana asks with a confused look.

“Just one.”

“Just… Oh. Oh!” 

“Ouch! That hurt!” I say when Aitana hits my arm.

“Inés, are you and canary boy together?” she says.

“Carla!” I say, looking at her.

“What?” she shrugs.

“You told Aitana about Pedri?”

“She heard us talking over facetime during the international break and I had to tell her” she shrugs. 

“And I kind of knew he existed. Remember that I heard you talking about a guy you fancied? Now I just happen to have more info about him, like his name, where he is from, that he is single… Or maybe not anymore. Are you guys dating?” Aitana asks me.

“What? No, no, no” I say, my cheeks starting to burn.

“Then… what are you?”

“I don't know.”

“You don't know? He introduced you to his whole family and all his childhood friends, and if I've understood it well” she says, lowering down her voice so our teammates can't hear her. “You slept together. Haven't you talked about what all that means?”

“No.”

“Inés…”

“We haven't had time to talk about it, ok?”

“Again” Carla sighs, rolling her eyes and reminding me about how I was going to talk with Pedri after what had happened at the Halloween party, and then…

“Yes, again. But we seriously haven't had time to talk about it.”

“And on the plane on your way back to Barcelona?”

“Carla, I wasn't going to tell Pedri about my feelings for him surrounded by a bunch of strangers.”

That day after landing I had basically gone straight into training, and after that we both have been catching up on uni and other stuff and we've only talked through texts and some late night video calls. And that's not how I want to discuss my feelings for him and what we are after what happened in Tenerife. If we are still just friends who made a mistake, friends with benefits, or something else. 

“You better talk about it, Inés. And soon” Carla says. “Because I know you and I know that the crush has turned into being in love with him, and we don't know about his feelings for you. We don't know if what the people who know you both have said is true, if he also likes you. And let's not forget about the fact that he just broke up with his girlfriend of three years, and you may be just a rebound. Like… I just don't want him to break your heart, Inés. I don't” she says, taking my hand on hers.

“I know. Thank you, Carla” I smile, squeezing her hand. “And we will talk, don't worry.”

“But in the meantime, if it isn't too much to ask... can you please keep this energy?” Aitana says with a cheeky smile. “The team needs you.”

“I'll try” I chuckle. “And speaking about energies… What is going on with you, Carla?”

“Nothing” she says.

“You've been acting super weird for the last few days. For example, you've barely teased me about Tenerife.”

“Maybe I'm growing up” she shrugs.

“Or maybe it has to do with what happened after the last game with the national team” Aitana says.

“What? What happened?” I say, looking from one to the other.

“Nothing happened” Carla insists.

“You were crying.”

“What?” I say, raising my voice and making some of our teammates look our way. 

“After the game and once we made it to the hotel she went straight into her room, and when she came back to grab something to eat, her eyes were red from crying” Aitana explains. “But we didn't say anything because we didn't want to bother her or make it worse.”

“Carla…”

“It was Mario, ok?” she says, crossing her arms over her chest and looking out the windows. “I broke up with him. Though I don't think you can call it like that since we never were together in any way.”

“But I thought things were ok between you! Like, the Halloween party…”

“Yes, we made out that day, but only because I kissed him first. It was like I was doing everything, you know? I was the one who asked him for his number when we met, the one who always texted first… And yes, he was the one who invited me to the party, but I kept feeling like I was the only one putting some effort on getting to know each other and moving things forward.”

“Maybe he is shy” Aitana says.

“Mario isn't shy” Carla laughs. “He just isn't as into me as I am into him, so I ended things before I got hurt. Which is why you need to talk with Pedri, Inés. I know he has shown a lot more interest in you than his roommate in me, but… Yeah” she sighs.

“Oh, Carla” I say, hugging her. “I'm so sorry things didn't work out. I know you really like him.”

“Yeah, well” she shrugs. “There are more men out there, it isn't the end of the world. But you must still talk with Pedri, ok?”

“Ok” I nod.

“Now let's do something fun. Like maybe a round of Uno?”

“I'm in” Aitana says. “I'm gonna ask some of the other girls if they want to join us” she says, getting up from her seat.

“Are you sure you are ok?” I ask Carla once we are alone. “Is there anything I can do?”

“I'm fine, don't worry.”

“Promise?”

“I promise” she smiles. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“I could watch you do your makeup for hours, Inés.”

“What?” I laugh.

“You just make it look so easy when it definitely isn't…” 

“You are so weird, Pedri” I chuckle. 

“Oh well” he shrugs.

It's been two weeks (almost three) since we went to Tenerife, and guess what? We still haven't had that conversation. 

We've kept texting and video calling like we are right now, but meeting in person? That's been almost impossible. And I say almost, because this week I actually managed to attend some of our classes. But between our friends wanting to spend some time together, and us being busy trying to act as if nothing had happened between us (and failing because Vic and Lucía instantly noticed), we weren't able to find a moment to be alone just the two of us.

“What are you wearing?” Pedri asks me. “The suit or the dress?”

“The dress. I thought it was too much for the club's Christmas party, but everyone said it was perfect, so” I shrug.

“And it is. You look amazing on it, Inés. You better take some photos before you leave so I can see the whole look.”

“Oh, don't worry. Carla will make sure to have a proper photoshoot when she comes pick me up in… Fuck.”

“What happened?”

“She should be arriving in ten minutes and I still haven't finished getting ready.”

“And here I am distracting you. I'm so sorry, Inés.”

“There is no need to apologise, Pedri” I smile. “Actually, if we are running late, there won't be a photoshoot and that always is good news.”

“To you. I want to see you looking hot, Inés. I need some motivation to go back to studying.”

“Me looking hot motivates you to study?” I laugh.

“It actually motivates me to do other things” he smirks. Other… things? What? “But even if there is no photoshoot, at least post one of the official photos the club will take. Do it for me” he pouts.

“Ok, I will. But only because I can't say no to that face.”

“Thank you” Pedri smiles. “I'll keep an eye on my Instagram notifications.”

“Wait, your notifications?”

“Yeah, I… This may sound a bit stalkery, but I have notifications turned on for when you post.”

“Wait, really?” 

“Yep” he says, nervously running a hand through his hair.

“May I confess something too?” 

“Sure.”

“I also have my notifications turned on for you.” 

“Oh, wow” he laughs.

“If you are a stalker, so am I” I shrug. Though I've probably been one for longer than he has. Waaaay longer.

“And here I thought you liking my posts so fast was because you were bored” he says with a teasing smile.

“Same” I reply, sticking out my tongue before we both start laughing. 

“I better let you finish getting ready and go back to my room, I've entertained you enough.”

“I wish I was there instead of going to this dinner” I sigh.

“In my room?” Pedri asks, arching an eyebrow and trying not to smile.

“What? No, no, no. I meant studying with you. As in you with your notes and me with mine and sharing a table at the library or something like that. Not together in your room. Like together but not together, you know? Like…” Oh my God, shut up and stop rambling! 

“You and I could never study together, Inés.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because we would distract each other and end up doing nothing of what we are supposed to. Just look at us right now. We keep talking and talking, and if we were in the same room… Who knows what we would end up doing instead of studying” he smirks.

“Yeah… ummm…” 

“So I'm gonna hang up and go to my room and let you make yourself look even more beautiful than you already are. I'll have my fire and heart eyes emojis ready for when you post” he winks.

Yeah… Fire is what I am feeling right now. How can his wink affect me so much even through a screen? And the fact that he has called me beautiful? Again? Asdfghjklñ.

“Have fun, Inés” he smiles.

“You too. I mean, studying isn't fun, but since you actually like it for whatever the reason…” I tease him.

“Rude” he chuckles. “And I like studying things I enjoy. For example, numbers… or you.”

“Me?” I say with a nervous laugh.

“Yes, you. You are my favourite subject, Inés.”

“I… Ummm… Shit!” I jump when my phone starts vibrating, not allowing me to properly freak out about what Pedri just told me. That I… that I am… Bloody hell. 

“What happened?”

“Carla is calling me, she must be almost here. And she is going to kill me when she sees I'm not ready.”

“Then I'll stop entertaining you. This time for real” he laughs. “Good night, Inés” he smiles, adding some butterflies on my stomach to everything I was already feeling.

“Good night, Pedri” I smile back before he hangs up and Carla starts calling me. Again. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“I can't, Inés. I swear I can't.”

“Carla, wait” I say as she opens the car's door before it has even stopped.

“I feel like my bladder is going to explode!”

“But Carla… Carla!” I call after her when she starts running towards the restaurant. “Shit. I… Umm… Thank you” I say to the driver.

“You're welcome, miss” he replies, completely ignoring what just happened. He's probably seen worse.

“Inés?” a male voice says from the other side of the street as I start walking towards the restaurant.

“Fuck, shit” I whisper, turning around.

“Inés, hey.”

“Víctor, hi. I hadn't seen you there.” Lie.

“Really? People say I'm hard to miss” he smirks. “Anyway, where were you going? The restaurant is this way.”

“Oh, I know. I just thought I had left my phone in the car and I was going to check, but then I realised I had it in my bag.” Because saying “I was trying to run away from you” is too mean, isn't it?

“Silly you” he chuckles.

“Yeah…”

“You look stunning, by the way. You probably already know if you saw my reaction to your Instagram story but… Seriously, Inés. Wow” he says, looking at me from head to toe. 

“Thank you.”

“Shall we?”

“Uh?”

“The dinner, Inés. Should we get going? Because I don't think Carla is coming back, is she?”

“She is not, no.”

“Is she ok? I saw her running as if her life depended on it” Víctor laughs.

“She needed to use the bathroom.”

“Oh… I see. Then…” he says, offering me his arm.

“Let's go” I reply, acting as if I haven't seen it and walking towards the restaurant, Víctor by my side a second later. 

And what does he do when we make it to where the photographers and some fans are waiting? He puts his hand on my lower back as if kind of protecting me and helping me walk, waving and smiling to everyone and then opening the door for me and letting me go first as a proper gentleman would do, his hand still touching me. 

And what do I do? Smile like an idiot while cursing on the inside. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“I can't fucking believe this is happening to me. Didn't I have enough with having to sit next to Víctor the whole night?” 

“If you don't stop moving it will be even worse” Carla says behind me.

“Urgh” I groan.

But let's give this conversation some context, shall we? 

After walking into the restaurant with Víctor and greeting everyone, I discovered that I was not only sitting next to him since they had mixed the men and women's teams on each table. I was also going on stage with him, other players and the president to be part of some kind of speech. 

Once it was time for that, and keeping up with his gentlemanly behaviour, he had moved my chair so I could easily get up and then walked with me to the stage, his hand obviously resting on my lower back like it had happened earlier. Then, of course, he had offered me his hand to go up the couple of steps that led to the stage. It was as if he had just come out of a period drama or something, and at one point I was even waiting for a curtsey. 

But the worst thing was about to happen: the back of my dress broke as we were leaving the stage.

I still don't know how since I had worn it once before and everything had been fine and I hadn't done anything weird while wearing it. But it was putting my foot on one of the steps to go down, and hearing the fabric tear. And if it hadn't been because Víctor was standing behind me, noticing what had just happened and hugging me from behind, acting as if he was joking about me tripping because of my heels, I would have probably shown my boobs to the whole restaurant. 

After that he had walked me to the bathroom, still hugging me. And when he was about to go call Carla to come help me, she had showed up looking at me with a face that said “what the fuck is going on” and her eyes about to pop from their sockets.

Once we explained everything to her, Víctor went back to the dinner, a lovely waitress giving us some safety pins to kind of close my dress, and here we are now. Me complaining about my luck while Carla tries to fix this disaster.

“Inés…”

“I don't like the way that has sounded, Carla. What happened?”

“Well, the good news is that you won't be showing your boobs to anyone who doesn't have a Canarian accent.”

“Carla!”

“But the bad news is you may be showing your underwear to everyone else.”

“What?” I say, turning around to try to look at my back in the mirror. “You've got to be kidding me.” 

You can see my knickers. My ugly skin tone knickers that are perfect to wear with dresses since you can't notice anything, but that aren't the sexiest thing out there.

“Carla, I can't go outside looking like this. Like, if it was just the girls, ok. They would understand. But we have the men's team and the whole board. The president is out there! I can't… I…”

“Inés… Inés, hey” she says, hugging me as I start crying.

“This is the worst night ever!”

“Don't say that, Inés.”

“It is! It fucking is and…”

“Ines?” someone says, knocking on the bathroom’s door. “Inés, are you ok?”

“For fucks sake” I groan. Víctor. Why is he back?

“Inés, can I come in?”

“No!” I say, wiping away my tears and ruining my makeup. Now I also look like a raccoon. Great. Just great.

“Sorry, I just… Ummm… I'm leaving already because I have a photoshoot early tomorrow.”

“Good for you” I spat.

“I was just wondering if you would like to go home with me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I meant you to your place and me to mine. I thought we could share a car and I could help you with your dress again. I feel like you haven't been able to fix it and can't go back to the dinner, can you?”

“I cannot, no” I sigh. 

“Then let me help you, Inés. You can borrow my jacket, it is long enough to cover your whole back, no one will see anything.”

“He's actually right” Carla whispers. 

“And we can say that you aren't feeling well because of something you ate, that you feel you may have caught a cold… I don't know, whatever you prefer. But let me help you, Inés. Please” Víctor says from the other side of the door.

“What do I do?” I ask Carla.

“I mean… He seems honest, and the jacket idea actually is really good” she shrugs.

“Yeah, but it is Víctor.”

“It's your choice, Inés” she shrugs again.

“Ok… Víctor?” I call.

“Yeah?”

“You can come in” I say, hoping I won't end up regretting it and making this night go from one of the worst of my life, to the worst. 

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Do you think if Harry met a younger version of Tom Riddle before he became a murderer He would save him? Do you think you would feel empathetic for him? like Sure, he's kind of a little s***, but he's just a little kid that, at the age of 4, probably just wants somebody to adopt him and feel loved. He definitely doesn't get that at Wool's orphanage, and I think Harry would understand that. I think Harry would see another hungy orphan who gets hurt for having magic they don't even know about. I think he might see another kid that the world failed.

P.S. I FUCKING LOVE YOU'RE WRITING it helped me get out of art block 😭

Anyway, have a lovely day❤️

First off, can you please not censor yourself, tumblr lets you say whatever you want, if you want to say "shit" say "shit" like you said "fucking" later in the ask. Or any other word for that matter. There is no reason to censor yourself on tumblr (this isn't tiktok or youtube) so please do yourself a favor and don't censor yourself. Just say what you mean.

Second, thank you very much 💕 glad I could be of help!

Third, as to your questions, well, I talked about tommary/harrymort here. I like the concept of time travel tommary when Harry goes to Hogwarts with Tom. it's a trope I used to enjoy immensely and I still like it as a concept. But again, I'm talking about when they're both at Hogwarts. I'm not the biggest fan of Harry going back in time to raise Tom (including the not romantic iterations of this trope). It just, never really vibed with me and I have no interest in exploring it personally.

But, could Harry show empathy to a young Tom? 100%. Harry is willing to show empathy and forgive a Lord Voldemort in his 70s after all the murders, so a 4-year-old Tom who's still innocent would be no problem.

I think Harry would struggle, though, to look at the innocent child and envision the dark lord in his head. It's not that he'd be mean to Tom, I don't think so, but he'd constantly be on the lookout for Tom turning evil. He'd expect it to happen — which is not great for a parental figure, all in all. I just, don't think the balance of that dynamic is going to be amazing, even if Harry is willing to show empathy and forgive Tom, it doesn't erase everything that happened from his mind. (Which is why I prefer them when Tom is older and maybe already murdered Myrtle, he isn't innocent, but Harry doesn't feel innocent either and it's a more equal, push-and-pull dynamic that is very explosive. Tommary/Harrymort is a pairing I like only in very specific flavors. Even when it's platonic/familial and not romantic I'm quite picky about it, lol).

Like, I think Tom would turn out better with a time-traveling Harry as a caregiver, but it depends a lot on how old Harry is when he goes back in time, what was the state of the world he left behind, why he went back in time, how he did it, etc. Becouse all these things could really make a difference in how Harry interacts with a young Tom and how he goes about raising him.

[scribbles97]

Hello!

I hope your "something stupid" actually turns out to be very fulfilling - even fun.

As for a prompt . . . I immediately thought of what makes me anxious and wondered if you could do something with "supporting a loved one through dentist-visit-anxiety."

Or, perhaps more fun might be dealing with a post-dental-work-loopy loved one.

Hugs.

Biggest of hugs to you! I don't think the below quite matches what you were probably expecting but it's where the muse wanted to go... Thank you for the distraction!

Gordon’s foot hadn’t stopped tapping the whole drive across the city. He’d been restless since Virgil had gotten up that morning, up and down from the sofa in the apartment adamant that he didn’t need to nap. 

Virgil knew he had probably spent the night clock watching, waiting for the moment that they could leave the apartment and head to the hospital. Moreover, he understood his younger brother’s anxiety. 

He had been back to the hospital plenty of times since he had been released, and had eventually been comfortable enough to go to his rechecks without a brotherly escort. He’d had bloods, scans, and physio for months, and it had all very much finally paid off. 

Until one of the screws in his leg had come loose and started causing discomfort. 

It had been a concerning turn for all of them, each afraid that any form of regression would send Gordon further back from his return to duty. When they had been so close to having him back, it felt like another blow that they would be forced to struggle to stand from. 

The doctors had assured Gordon that removal would solve the issue, that the procedure would be straightforward and his recovery prompt. 

Then they had told him about the anaesthetic. 

Gordon hadn’t been able to sit still all week, and with his leg aching his usual outlet of the pool had been a no go. Instead, his nervous energy had flooded the entire house setting both Scott and Alan on edge. Their eldest brother had tried to take control of the situation, only to tip Gordon over the edge and set them both off in a screaming match. Alan had tried to distract him with video games, only for Gordon to get further frustrated when he couldn’t bring himself to focus on the objective. 

It had been John that had pulled him from the Island, taking him to the apartment on the mainland and keeping him company. Being the person he was, John had been able to let the nervous energy wash over him without picking up on any of it. He had been able to sit and listen to Gordon’s inane rambling about twenty different subjects and respond appropriately without losing patience. 

“You’ll come right down to the theatre with me, right?” 

Virgil looked over to his younger brother as he swung the car into an available space. 

Gordon knew the answer. It had been the first night after he’d been told of the anaesthetic that they had all sat and planned what would happen that day. Grandma had been the one to pull the strings with the hospital staff, whilst Scott had arranged for a sizable donation to seal the deal. John was waiting for them at the apartment, on hand if extra support was needed.

“Right down to the theatre,” He assured with a certain nod, “and then I’ll be observing until you’re sent to recovery.”

Gordon nodded as he swallowed, his fist tapping lightly against the open palm of his opposite hand as he took a slow even breath. 

Reaching across the centre console, he squeezed his brother’s shoulder, “I’ll be right with you the whole time.”

“This is stupid.”

“Not stupid.” He countered, shaking his head, “There’s nothing to feel stupid about here.”

Gordon swallowed again, “It’s gonna make me better.”

“Doesn’t make it less scary.” 

“No, but means I’ve gotta do it.” 

Virgil pressed his lips together, not really having an answer that would make things better.

“Thanks for being here.” 

Virgil shrugged, “Wouldn’t be anywhere else.” 

Gordon’s smile was small as he rested his hands on his legs, each breath controlled and steady as he started down at his feet. They all knew he’d get through it, as stubborn as any of the rest of them, and as determined to get himself back to where he had been. They’d all sworn to be there to support him through it all, through the big things and the little things. They’d do anything he asked of them if it made even the slightest of difference, not just to Gordon but to the rest of them. 

Scott taking control, Alan’s distraction, John’s listening, it was all their own ways of coping too. Each of them had their own memories and nightmares from seeing a brother in a coma, the thought of him going back there, back to the hospital for any procedure had set them all reeling. 

It was Gordon’s anxiety that had given Virgil the excuse to tag along for the day, but it was as much for the rest of the family as it was for their resident fish. 

“I think we should go out at the weekend.” Gordon started as he reached for the door handle, “We could bring Two over and go to that steak place on the beach we like.”

Virgil smiled in agreement as Gordon stepped out of the car, following his little brother’s lead as he pulled the key from the ignition. Shutting the door, he followed Gordon towards the hospital entrance, falling into step with him as easily as normal. 

“I’ll organise it whilst you’re snoozing,” He offered, knowing it would be a good distraction for everyone, “but I’m not liable if Scott picks the place you’re banned from for desert.” 

Gordon laughed softly as he looked up to the hospital entrance, “Tell him it was my idea, I’m sure he’ll change his mind then.” 

Slinging an arm across the broad swimmer’s shoulders, Virgil nodded, “You ready?”

Gordon rolled his shoulders under his arm before he nodded slowly, “Got my bro with me, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

Together they walked into the building, both thinking of the weekend, steak, and their family.