#i was like i gotta show these to people so i can stop TORMENTING MYSELF WITH THEM

[luck-of-the-drawings]

smth smth about 'the thing that the character did that you thought was rly rly funny in the moment is actually linked to a terrible trauma that lies within said character.' or wahtever.

[slow-clap-processors]

Artemis

Chell said nothing.

And that was her choice.

But if she had the last word, she’d say:

“Yes.”

“You didn’t ask,

If I wanted to go;

Not that I’m going to correct you.

Because if I had a voice it would be screaming,

I deserve better.

"It’s no wonder the portals are orange and blue,

One behind my eyes and one inside you;

Gateways leading to different parts of the same room

We both know how this puzzle is solved;

Just look away,

A click of the gun and it’s finished.

The sound of the radio echoing after my footsteps.

"I am a predator and these tests are my prey-

That’s what you said. I don’t know what to say.

A huntress? oh please,

You make me sputter in outrage and weak in the knees-

I always knew the cake was a lie.

Don’t worry.

No one was fooled by my act either.

"I am the moon, and I am not.

They banished me there and I have turned it against them.

I love it like a crow loves it’s nest,

High in a maple tree,

Fabricated from plastics and pure poison.

What I mean is, I’m used to bad dreams,

Limited breath, and things which are not as they seem.

"I don't sleep, which is fine

I don't prefer my nights to be restful;

Maybe I should.

But maybe instead,

You could turn off the emancipation grill,

And we could grow seedlings in the companion cubes

So they'll always have someone to sing to them.

"Don’t scrape the floors

Of the vines and trees,

Don’t wash away your scars for me.

I will banish the crows, but don’t ask me

To sing for you.

Don’t look at me like they do,

Like i’m some slice of delicious

Vanilla,

Crazy,

Cake-

I promise, I don’t taste nice.

"Notice how you never use my name?

Look me in the eyes,

Coward, Titan, I know

Your cameras will never let you forget.

A girl could never dream of a prettier headstone."

GLaDOS’s sister poem: Prometheus

[penelopecruzcoded]

the urge to kill myself when any minor inconvenience in my life vs. the reminder that too many people i love would be sad as a result of those actions (even though sometimes you literally wanna do it to spite one of those people aka a parent bc she says the most deeply cutting painful shit out of nowhere like y u gotta do that fam)

i mean it's painful and cutting but also she's not wrong... i feel like we're ben affleck and matt damon in good will hunting and she's giving me The Speech except unlike matt damon i'm useless and unable to better myself or progress anywhere in life for reasons, and man does it feel bad... like damn, sometimes i think the universe sent me this person and stuck me to her in this period in time specifically to help me learn these lessons i need (and even then i feel weird saying this beyond just my internal thoughts because it all comes out me, me, me) and give me the reality checks i sorely need, but my god if they aren't painful to experience. everything is moving slow and i can't improve fast enough for anybody's liking, can't wake up fast enough, can't stop dissociating fast enough. sometimes i don't want to die but just curl up in a pocket or fold up like a piece of paper so so so so tiny it no longer ceases to exist. i don't know what's more ridiculous this current situation i find myself in or the one i was stuck in my 20's. but at least i knew him, lmao. at least i knew him and touched him and could feel him and smell him and hold him, my god it felt so nice to hold him, and to know somebody is to love them and all of that, and we were literally so so so so close you almost don't get closer as far as platonic relationships are involved, so i was happy, to an extent. and if anybody saw the movie of my life from my eyes, they'd say of course you fell for him, of course you did honey, we would have too, we see it, by god we see it. anyone would understand how i felt and continued to feel for a solid 6 to 7 years since we last hugged and said goodbye. but this? this is the most hilarious, miserable clown show on earth. i knew i shouldn't have laughed at my old therapist's patient case study in his office, when he told me about her, even though it was less mocking laughter and more the incredulous type. nevertheless, i laughed, i passed judgement on another mentally ill person, and the universe said ha. you think she is ridiculous. you find her ridiculous... you will see. you will see lmao. fast forward and i'm wearing the clown nose and wig. and the dunce hat. this feels so ridiculous, it really IS ridiculous, put in the torment nexus literally by my own thoughts and brain?? why did i have to do that to myself. how can i undo that. i really want to undo it. but i'm scared of making that wish to the universe and fully committing to that wish, because when i wish for things they come true, and boy do they come true. and i'm scared of the things that would follow. i really am. because it's a very tenuous house of cards i've built here upon which many things hinge. hate that this is so but it is. and now i'm scared to blow out the bottom row because surely the top won't be left standing after? and i love the top, i do, the top is all mine.

oh boy... ariana. i wish i could pull an eternal sunshine. but also i don't. but also i do. but also i don't. somehow this too is holding me back. oh well. what is new. lol

[maguro13-2]

Darkness Reborn ~ Origins of the Ink Demon Final Chapter : Final Struggle (2/6) ~

Me : You've waited all of my scripts in the past year and now the moment you've been waiting for! And get ready for the newest hottest script that is...So here we go!

[Leo Stenbuck (Break Out) - Norihiko Hibino]

"Tokyo, Four years in the future"

(we show a young girl running that appears to be Aya Asagiri)

Aya Asagiri : *panting* What is happening with this planet!? What's becoming of my misfortuned life? How can I not see this!?

*Flashback*

Aya Asagiri : No! stop! I don't want a miserable life like this!

Kaname Asagiri : Miserable life, you say? Well guess what, I got a 98 on my test and I had to get many punches from your dad! Torturing and tormenting you would allow you to make yourself a human target.

Tsuyuno : You stubborn fools! Do you realize what you have been doing!? Aya had nothing wrong do with her life, she's only 14 and heartless humans like you are ruining everything for her and me!

Aya : Please, I just didn't want this to happen! I...I blame the author for that!

Kaname Asagiri : You couldn't give two sh*ts about you Aya! I've been punched in the stomach three times a day! And do you know what it's like to be a bat-sh*t crazy guy who likes to torture innocent girls!? You have a great life about your experience in Real World AU, Aya. What will it be? Will you beat us heartless humans that wanted to torment you very badly or will you go back in time to fix the mistakes in the past?

(flashback ends with Aya still running)

Kaname Asagiri : (Voiced heard) Well, I guess that the author had to make you suffer. If we're gone and the author's gone, they won't able to make another Magical Girl story like you anymore. How satisfying.

Aya Asagiri : *panting* ...I need a place to find myself to fix this cursed mistake. Where do I needed to my life to resonated with everyone? But why...? (sits down with depression) Why everything?

*images flashing*

[people yelling indistinctly]

Kaname Asagiri : (voice heard) No! Not you! Why me!? WHY DID I DESERVE THIS!?! HUAAAAAAAHHHH!

Tsuyuno : Not the heartless again!

Sarina : OH GOD! NOOOOOO!!!

*flashes to another Flashback*

Tsuyuno : Aya! What are we going to do!? Aya!

Sarina : SOMEONE PLEASE! JUST STOP THIS ALREADY!!! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, AYA!!!

Rina : Help, Aya!

Nijimi : What are you waiting for, slowpoke!? Hurry up and save us!

Sarina : I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL KILL YOU!!!

Tsuyuno : What are you going to do, Aya!? WHAT. ARE. YOU. GOING TO DO!?!

Beast Bendy : Too Late!

(Darkside pushes a big dominoe made of ink, causing it to fall slowly on the group)

Tsuyuno : AYAAAAAA!!!

*DBZ SFX : BOOM*

Tsuyuno : NOOOOOOO!!!

Aya Asagiri : (gasping and them screams in horror) AAAAAAAAAHHH!!!

*flashback ends*

Aya Asagiri : Damn it! It's all my fault! No, it's all our fault that we caused all of this! Why did it started out like this!? I need to get back to the past to fix my mistake! I only needed time to fix everything right for me. What to do? What to do? (get ups and starts running again) *panting* There's gotta be a way to go back in time to fix everything right for me! If the story of me never happened I would never have a miserable life! I need a way to fix it now! Unless...There is a way! I know how!

(Neoshadows appears)

Aya Asagiri : AAAH!! No! Not like this again! Please, don't hurt me! (uses gun to shoot at the Heartless, but didn't work on them)

Neoshadows : (look at each other) HAHAHAHAHA!

Aya Asagiri : Huh? (shoots at them again, but still didn't work on them) Why aren't you going away!?

Neoshadow 1 : Hahahaha! Foolish young girl, that kiddie toy doesn't work on us! *GUNSHOT X2*

(Neoshadows dies and vanishes)

Aya Asagiri : Wha...Who...?

Homura Akemi :Hey there. Looks like you needed my help!

Aya Asagiri : Are you really a Magical...

Neoshadow : Find them! Get those kids! Don't let them escape!

Homura Akemi : Come, follow me! There isn't much time life!

Aya Asagiri : Right! (two starts running)

Neoshadows : (yelling indistinctly)

Neoshadow : Where are those girls!? Where are they!? They have to be somewhere in the city!

Homura Akemi : Over here! (throws a flash bomb)

*BOOM*

Neoshadow : AAAAHH! THE LIGHT! (Neoshadows vanishes)

Homura Akemi : That should buy us some time.

Tsuyuno : Aya! Don't you leave me just yet! I'm not going to die without you! I needed to live to fix your miserable life's mistakes!

Homura Akemi : Hang tight, everyone! We're going back about four years ago and to fix this mess that ever caused! (Chaos Emeralds glowing) Chaos...CONTROL!!!

*Sonic/Shadow SFX : Chaos Control*

"New Era...Four years ago."

Maka Albarn : So...All this time, I had two dads, one uncle, one sister, and one human mother?

Lord Phanto III : True. It was I who gave you my blood to adon the secrets of the Blood Magic arts. Makoto and your son have discovered that Blood Magic was invented by both us and witches since planetary conquest in the Solar System.

Soul Evans : Say what? (To Spirit Albarn) Mr. Albarn, why didn't you tell me the truth! Why didn't you tell that Maka's family were not just humans, but aliens that arrived on earth in the past?

Spirit Albarn : Okay! Okay! The truth is...I lied. I thought that I was to be created to defend humanity, but I wasn't. I was still kid in the past to cover the truth from you and I did. I'm sorry Maka. But I...

Maka Albarn : Look! It's okay, papa! Look! I was betrayed by humanity! Patty Thompson framed for it! But there's one explanation that I'm needed to hear about this one. Is Soul Evans really a bone that becomes a scythe?

Lord Phanto III : (chuckles) It's true. The Demon Scythe you wield with is a bone from soryu, the Azure Dragon and one of the four guardians that protected this planet from destruction!

Maka Albarn : !?

Soul Evans : I'm a what?

Lord Phanto III : And don't forget. It was I who created you for the Evans Family in Texas, you were the finest of all! That's right! (summons the Demon Scythe) The one who created this iconic scythe, It was me!

Me : (gives paper to Lord Phanto III)

Lord Phanto III : Oh, minor mistake. Thank you for pointing that out. The one who created this Demon Scyhe, it was our race that developed, which passed hand to hand from Jupiter , to, Mars and then to you on Earth. I upgraded it myself to make it look like it.

[The Real Truth - Yutaka Minobe]

Maka Albarn : So that means...

*images flashing*

Maka Albarn : Now I remember! You created the scythe that I wielded all those years ago! No, my people created it. The Scythe was originally a weapon used by the Phantonians! It turns out that demon scythe that I wield was actually made from Mars--No, Jupiter! But why, daddy!? Why on earth would you do it!?

Lord Phanto III : To tell you the truth, There is no world of Soul Eater, you fool! Darkside Death has been combing both Shinra and your Influence with the powers of Hearts and Souls. He has been allegedly stealing hearts and souls from the innocence that witches were in order to gain power for himself and keep the world in the palm of his hands. Or should I say, the "Wrong" hands?

Soul Evans : You mean the demon scythe that I was, was originally some kind of blade or something? a sword perhaps?

Lord Phanto III : Rhetorical, Mr. Evans, the scythe that you are...(converts the sychte into a huge-ass sword) is originally a sword.

Maka Albarn : The wrong hands. I knew him all along, father.

Moirai Albarn : Indeed, father. Maka Albarn didn't knew that she directly under the influence of Shinra Himself and now her influence is beginning to spread even further!

Maka Albarn : What!? Now you're saying that Darkside Death is going to use my influence to combine with Shinra's! I should've known we've been duped from the start! Got it all figured it out, I know what to do! I am Maka Albarn, a hero that has a heart and soul! Forget the world of Soul Eater, I don't have to be the story of three, I wanted to be a story for each and everyone! Father! If you're willingly helping out others! So listen up! I may not have my story concluded cause that's why I'm going to expand it! Just to end this once for and all!

Seto : Leave it to me!

[SA2 Advertist C+B (Super Sonic Theme) - Jun Senoue]

Maka Albarn : Yeah! I'll be the hero of the story that's gonna last forever! I know why, I wanna help the queen of the Ink Demons to give her one last redemption. But first I need to find Shinra so I can fix this mistake once and for all! I don't need Crona or the world to show them the courage that was I given, all I needed was valor that will prove to them I am the strongest hero and that's why Shinra made me do it!

Soul Evans : Then LET'S GET MOVING!

"Meanwhile..."

Shinra : ...

Saber/Arthur : So...You're ready for this?

Shinra : ...Oh yeah, I'm ready. I'm here to fix my biggest that I have ever caused, I'm going to put an end this foolishness that I made once and for all! I know how to clean up their act! I'm becoming a hero once more! I Shinra the Devil Chaos will be returning myself as Shinra Kusakabe, the hero who went from Zero to Hero! And I'm not going down without a fight. Maka Albarn, Tsugumi, Shotaro, Here I come, to have a battle of the four heroes! This is the moment that I have been waiting for! I'll use the power of the Chaos Emeralds one last time! Devil Chaos...(converts to Devil Chaos) Do your thing! I'm gonna put an end to the traitor once and for all! That is why I shall make them pay!

*DBZ SFX : Big Aura*

~ 116th Scene : The Ultimate Battle Plan! ~

[soda-boots]

Week of 6 November ‘23

Tbh I feel a bit embarrassed that I keep getting crushes on people who end not liking me back or just not seeing it going anywhere romantically or just wanting to be friends. They always go on about how I’m a “really great guy”, and Max told me I was a “catch” to make me feel better. But I don’t feel like much of a catch. I just feel like a failure. Why can’t I seem to spark with someone? I really do like Ellis. Why can’t that just be enough ? I guess I can’t make people like me the way I want them to. That hurts.

I thought things were going quite well honestly and I hoped we could take things further. I thought the problem with Jack was I went too fast physically and we just couldn’t work. With Ellis, I wanted him to make a move, and I didn’t want to be too forward and make a move myself. I didn’t want to come off as too eager. I’m thinking of the song “so what now” by Renee Rapp. A lot of it encapsulates how I feel at the moment. He says for now it’s best if we stayed friends. I don’t want to be delusional and think oh it could amount to something more. I mean it could, and I can hope that it does but I don’t know really. The balls in his court.

Monday Morning (6/11/2023)

I feel physically ill from this emotional torment. I’m so tired and my eyes hurt, and I’m shivering and fidgeting sometimes. Very much a disproportionate reaction to something to small I guess. He just said he wants to stay friends for now, and while I guess I feared things would go that way (I think I even mentioned it in an earlier post ) I still hoped it wouldn’t. Speaking of mentioning it earlier, my writing always ages so badly. Why can’t I help but foreshadow the least satisfactory outcome.

I’m just a little scared that this won’t go anywhere. The thought leaves me desolate. However, we have our funny moments like me falling off the wooden holds to see you taking photos of me or criticising the lack of “dynamicness” of archery. You listening to my show means a lot to me. Even though we haven’t known each other that long you mean a lot to me.

- Hänsel und Gretel (14/10/2023)

I’ve been loving the album "I get into trouble" by maple glider as a result.

9 Nov 2023

Ellis hasn't replied to my texts in quite a while now - so the last text I've gotten from him was from Monday (with him replying to my reply). I've sent a few texts since then with no response since, but he still watches my stories, so maybe he's not ghosting me (but also maybe he is). It just hurts tbh. I may be jumping to conclusions but I'd really hate for things to end this way. It's one thing for things to not go the way I wanted them to, and it's another to be ignored (and maybe have a friendship end - I really hope not). I haven't cried in a few days, but I feel one coming on right now. Haleemah thinks I should move on, and that's true. They said it'd be weird if I kept texting them, and I agree. So I have to end communication from my side at least, at least for a few months (or until he texts back. Whichever bloody comes first). I can't just stop thinking about him, that's impossible, but as time goes things may remind me less and less of him. It's a bit hard though, the film camera I own was partially influenced by him; me starting hockey too (honestly the irony of me crying over the initial message right before I head to the hockey game will never not be lost on me. It's like it was written in a romance film. Love/hate my life). I so want to see and talk to him again, but that might not be the best for now and I don't want to seem pestering. If he doesn't want to talk to me then maybe I should reach out. I hate this whole notion, but I gotta put me first. And it's not like I can't heal with him there (I did it with Jack), but this is probably different. I've liked Ellis for way longer...

[lara-prisma-avm-ask-blog]

I will not stop. This is now your curse. I will make you all suffer.

I've TRIED to redeem myself, but you all just cry and run away like little fuckin' brats that haven't been told NO their whole life.

I am your curse. I will make sure you never find peace from me. I may not be the Devil, but I will sure as hell make you suffer for what you did to me.

You have RUINED my life. You LIED to me.

Cynder started this shit over somethin' stupid, and now I feel like people are ACTIVELY tryna hunt me down to KILL me, all because of some STUPID ASS AU ART I MADE!!!

No wonder you never asked me about it right away...you were just tryna bait me out.

This fandom is horrible. You are all horrible people. You all deserve to rot in Hell for everything that happened.

I never wanted this to be drama in the first place...but I guess the cards have already been delt, and now it is war.

This is exactly why I hate fandoms. They start shit for the stupidest reasons. There's a difference between bein' critical about someone's character and harassing them out of a fandom because of it.

I never doxxed you. As much as that just sounds like shit comin' out of my mouth, I never wanted this to be a problem. I trusted you Lara. I thought that I was finally finna be able to redeem myself for everything. It turns, I was wrong.

Go ahead. Laugh. I'm already laughing, because I already won. Simple, nice, ya'll think you about to talk shit behind my back. I'm laughing at your petty little response to my ask :)

This whole fandom will pay, for everything that they've did to me. As much as I love the franchise itself, as perfect this fandom seems, it's really just an fuckin' dumpster fire that nobody cares for.

You will never find me. I am taking a step back, and I'm leaving social media. I'm goin' to therapy, and hangin' with close people.

You did this to yourselves. Even in the future, this fandom will not thrive.

You are banned from Lite Anime. Every single person in this fandom is blacklisted, and there is no way you will redeem yourselves. Even as a sadist, only the hurt you will receive is the memory of me, tormenting you until the end of your days.

*chucks you into a dumpster*

You and your stories can all burn in Hell, and I will make sure, you never recover from me.

*shuts the dumpster lid and locked it*

This is your life. I will never stop until everyone in this fandom that was ever involved in this drama and their legacies are sabotaged and never recovered. I will make sure to sabotage mine, just as equal punishment. I will make sure, yours is sabotaged, too.

Let this be a lesson to this fandom, and other fandoms: Nobody is perfect, but nobody deserves to have their lives ruined and in shambles over stupid reasons like these.

Of course, not like you'll ever learn that lesson anyway :)

BTW, my persona has one last thing she has to say: I'm sorry I was born the way I was. I'm sorry I'm a demon. I'm sorry I'm a supposed "Mary Sue." I'M SORRY I'M NOT YOUR IMAGE OF A GOOD CHARACTER. I'M SORRY I'M NOT PERFECT!!!

I've gotta go. I've got better shit to worry about than all you c***s.

Fuck you all! 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

So Good Riddance! 🖕

P.S. Max killing Cyn is not canon to her story :) fuck you

What a show!! Spent half an hour writing??

Fuck you man! Get a life! Touch some grass! Stop making stupid threats on the internet that will never be taken seriously!

Nobody will like you for these things! You say you tried to redeem yourself but lied about why cynder blocked you!

Try doing that again and I'll keep laughing in your face until you stop!

[helliontherapscallion]

Hello! For the event, can I please get a Philza x male reader who has old scars from self harming? Like, the reader was like "Yea, I had problems with my self esteem". And Phil just comforting him? Thank you!

Food Fights and Comfort

Warnings: swearing, self harm scars, and self harm mentions (nothing graphic)

“You have no idea how hard getting that enchantment was,” Tommy groaned out through a mouthful of half-chewed food. Wilbur reached over to slap him upside the head, “don’t talk with your mouth full. No one wants to see that.”

“Fuck off Wilbur I can do what I want!” Tommy shoved more food into his mouth, chewed it up, and opened his mouth wide facing Wilbur. Your older brother wrinkled his nose in disgust before he shoveled some mashed potatoes onto his spoon and flung it at Tommy where it collided with his shirt. Tommy looked at the brunet with rage before he swallowed his food and scooped up some mashed potatoes and drew his spoon back. Philza’s hand on his arm and his warning glare made him freeze.

“Tommy, if you throw that I swear to god I’m gonna ground you for a month.”

“But- but he started it! I-”

“Let me finish. And Wilbur’s grounded from his guitar for two weeks.”

“C’mon! He-” Wilbur was cut off by Philza’s angry glare, “don’t make me extend it to a month, Wilbur.”

Technoblade leaned over to Tommy when Philza wasn’t looking and whispered in his ear, “if you do it, I’ll do your chores for two weeks.”

“Make it three and you have yourself a deal,” he hissed back at the pink haired teenager.

“...Fine, just do it.”

You silently watched as Tommy genuinely considered it before picking up his mashed potato-armed spoon and flinging the potatoes at the tall brunet next to you. They splattered on his yellow sweater making Wilbur look at him in offense before scooping his food once more and returning fire, his elbow knocking over your mug. The steaming contents of the mug splashed onto you and scalded your arms, soaking through your thick sweater.

A startled yelp left your mouth as you leapt up from your seat frantically trying to brush off the offending liquid unsuccessfully with your hands. The table fell silent as they watched you.

“Shit, I’m so sorry (y/n), I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine, Wil, accidents happen. If you all would excuse me, I’m just gonna go clean myself up.”

“Here, let me help you-” Wilbur pushed himself up from his chair only to sit back down when Philza put a hand on his shoulder.

“No, you stay here and clean up this mess. This is exactly why I didn’t want you two to have a food fight, someone always gets hurt.” He walked over to you with a small, reassuring smile, “c’mon.”

You grew increasingly nervous as he led you to the bathroom, your hands pulling your sleeves down repeatedly. He didn’t know about your scars, they were something you struggled with accepting even though it’s been almost a year since you’ve stopped. You were lucky, he had adopted you just at the beginning of fall when you could wear long sleeves as much as you wanted without getting weird looks.

After sitting you on the counter, he turned to rummage in the closet for the first aid kit. From your short time here, you could already tell that the family would go through first aid kits fast. It was a very accident-but-not-really-accident prone family.

He let out a triumphant laugh as he found the box and turned around to look at you, wiggling it in the air, “found it! Now, let’s patch you up, yeah?” When you made no move to push your sleeves up, he furrowed his brows and looked at you a bit closer. He could see the shame and anxiety on your face as clear as day, confusing him to no end. From your short time living with him, you were always an open book, telling him anything whenever he would ask.

“Kid, why’re your sleeves over your hands? I’ve got to see if you have any burns, so if you could push them up I can put some ointment on them.”

You hesitated, the last time you had shown someone your scars was when you were still at the orphanage. You had shown your best friend at the time, and they exploded at you. They told you that you were a freak, that you were an emo for self harming. They ended up spilling everything to the other orphans, and word spread fast at the orphanage; every day was the same there, so they craved new information like it was an addict’s drug.

That began the assault of ‘show us your wrists’ and ‘barcode scanner’ jokes being thrown your way. You became the outcast of the orphanage as fast as you became the loved one. You weren’t sure if the adults knew about it, but if they did, they turned a blind eye to the torment you were going through. It was a miracle that you managed to stay clean during that entire time, you were so close to relapsing. If it hadn’t been for Philza adopting you when he did, you would’ve fallen back into your old ways.

You knew Philza would never do that, as he was one of the kindest people you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. However, you had thought about your ex best friend and reflected on what they did to you. Philza had something they hadn't, however, he had your complete trust.

You prepared yourself for the looks of horror and potentially getting thrown back into the orphanage and hesitantly pushed your sleeves up to your elbows. When Philza saw this, he gave you a reassuring smile and quickly got to work on your slightly burnt forearms.

The entire time, he said nothing about the blatantly obvious scars that littered your wrists. This confused you since there was no way that he didn’t see them. Before you knew it, he tied off the bandages and put his hand on yours gently.

“Those should heal soon, you just gotta keep putting ointment on it and let it breathe for a while each day. If you want to, we can go downstairs and finish our dinner.”

You snapped yourself out of the daze you were in and cleared your dry throat awkwardly, “sure, that… that sounds good.”

“Great,” he gave you another smile before he went to leave the bathroom, “I’ll meet you downstairs, just come down when you’re ready.”

“Wait!” You hadn’t meant to say it so loud that it scared the blond, but the anxiety and paranoia that almost blocked your throat forced the word to be louder than intended. He jumped slightly and looked back at you with a soft, yet questioning gaze.

You pushed your sleeves down and fiddled with the ends of them, “you’re not going to say anything?”

“I’d never force anybody to do anything they’re uncomfortable with, it’s just not the right thing to do. It’s always better to let people open up to you whenever they’re ready to,” he said, walking over to you again and standing in front of you. “The same goes to you, I’m always going to be here to listen whenever you’re ready to talk about it.”

You shrunk in on yourself slightly and nodded, contemplating on whether you should tell him about what pushed you to that point, how you were treated when you had opened up about it for the first time. Eventually, you swallowed past the lump that had formed in your throat, “I’ll take you up on that offer.”

And so you told him everything about your previously declining mental health and how the others treated you during your stay at the orphanage. Though he concealed it well, you could still see his anger when you told him about the jokes made at your expense. He never interrupted you to ask questions, he never gave you any sign of malice, he patiently waited for you to continue whenever you paused, and he always showed you that he was actively listening to you whenever you looked at him.

A part of you expected him to kick you out of his house and take you back to the orphanage, but he offered you nothing but his full support. Talking about it, though it was hard, was far easier to do compared to your previous experience. He was an easy person to talk to, radiating a welcoming and judgemental free aura.

“You’re not going to judge me?” You questioned him when you were done, anxiety gripping at your chest. He put a hand on your shoulder and shook his head, “no, you couldn’t help it; it’s heartless to judge someone based on their struggles… You’re a strong person, (y/n). It takes a lot to get yourself out of that cycle and I’m so proud of you for how much you’ve grown and persevered through what life’s thrown at you.”

“I- thanks Dad,” you wrapped your arms around him and squeezed him lightly. Without a second of hesitation, he quickly reciprocated the hug. He tucked your head underneath his chin and rubbed your back in small circles, “any time, I’m always going to be here for you. I love you so much, son.”

[latenightdecaf]

Entry 7 - Summer of Vulnerability

part of let the pile of good things grow series - series masterlist

previous entry here

Yoongi x reader

Ft. nonidol!bts (glimpse of ex-boyfriend!namjoon)

Producer!yoongi, roommate!yoongi, soft!yoongi

slow burn romance, friendship, slice of life

series of drabbles/one shots

warnings: alcohol consumption

a/n: okay so here goes y/n remembering his ex!joon also will never get over of in the soop yoongi! can’t wait for the new season. Thank you guys for reading! 🙈

word count: 2,546

Went home from the grocery and some of their wines are on sale so you got carried away and bought 8 bottles and to your surprise, Yoongi’s cooking steak. “oh my God!” You exclaimed as soon as you saw him cooking in the kitchen with paperbag of wines in your arms. Yoongi looked at you with a confused face.

“Did you just read my mind or what??! There’s a sale on the corner deli and…” raising both of your hands as if surrendering, “okay don’t judge me yet but i got a little carried away.”

“A little carried away? You looked like the world’s going to run out of wine tomorrow.”

He smiled on your disclaimer and shaking his head as he paid his attention back to his steak.

“No.” You sighed. “Nothing went my way today, not at all—but i dont want to think about it. I’m psyching myself out of it you see, or better yet i’m drowning myself on these babies.” As you drank your first glass empty. “My eternal companion, the love of my life…”

He turned to your direction, only to see you hugging the bottles of wine that you bought.

He turned to your direction, only to see you hugging the bottles of wine that you bought.

“Come on clear the tables, your babies are not going anywhere.” He declared as he puts down 3 steaks and some aglio olio with honestly way too much garlic because it’s Yoongi.

“I didn’t saw you made pasta also. I am so happy now.” You happily exclaimed as you took a bite of your new favorite steak. “But why the 3 steaks? You hungry?”

He sat in front of you, filling your glass with wine and his too.

“You need food before you chug them all up. I’m not gonna clean up your mess. So you better get it together today. I tell you.” He scolded you.

“Sure sure.” As you immediately devour the pasta he made.

One bottle of wine down. He let you listened to a ‘sketch’ he’s been working on lately. Carefully studying your already flushed face for any reaction. He does this sometimes, ask for your opinion even though you have zero idea about music and producing or anything related to that for that matter.

All he considers is whether you winced at the melody of it, or you nod and eventually smile as it goes. But this time you’re just staring blankly in your wine glass, circling it repeatedly as the sketch ended at exactly 2 mins and 19 secs. And when it ended you looked straight at him.

“This looks like it’s almost done right?” You commented. “Yeah.” As he gulps on his wine, emptying another glass.

“And you wrote the lyrics also?” He nodded.

You looked away and sighed. “It’s too beautiful—Sad and in pain, feels tormented also but beautiful.”

He blinked several times at your words. You’ve heard several of his sketches before and you’d just always say, ‘it sounds good, but Yoongi—i have no idea about music. Zero.’ But he’d let you hear it anyway for couple more times and he’d smile at your ignorant reactions.

This time however, doesn’t seem like a laughing matter. Something about your words got his heart beating faster and he has no idea if its just the amount of alcohol he has consumed by now or just you.

You clinked on his empty glass. And asked, “You want more?” He nodded. And you poured him another. “Remember the girl, I introduced to you before?” You stopped and think for a second and it dawned to you. “Hell yeah, I remember.”

“She’s actually my ex-girlfriend.” He declared.

“Well that I did not expected. The ex part. I can tell though she looks really special.”

“Well, we’re together for a while. But now we’re just co-workers for this debut song of a girl I told you about before. That’s why she was here also the last time, we were looking through old sketches that I have after the meeting. We actually finished that quite early. ”

He never really talked that much about himself. He’s good at talking about work, which for you is already more than enough. You know that despite your living situation, he’s not really obligated to get personal if he doesnt want to. And besides, you also don’t want to. Your end of the rope for sure is scared of any form of vulnerability anyway—so you’re not expecting or demanding that from anybody else.

“So you’re just co-workers now?”

“Yeah, I think so. I really don’t know what I feel.”

“Well, relationships are messy my friend.” Raising your glass of wine as if to cheers and chugging it in one go.

Not sure of what to say next but he looks like he’s in mood to talk but the topic looks too sensitive to even crack a joke so you continued drinking despite the eerie atmosphere.

“If you dont mind me asking, what happened?” Yes, despite your immense effort to hold yourself back. Like any other novel you read, you have this eager feeling to know how it ends. Your mind is literally shouting, ‘But I gots to know!!’

And so you asked. Half fearing for your life for being too nosy and half expecting that you might be up for a good story. Elbows resting on the table, with your chin at the palm of your hand looking eager to hear the story.

“We’ve been together for a while”

“Yeah, you said that already.. and that she’s a song writer. I figured.” Unconsciously saying your thoughts out loud.

“You wanna tell the story instead?” He teasingly reacted in a straight face.

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud… I literally said that in my mind and my mouth just burst it open. They both can’t coordinate that well. I’m sorry. You may continue…sir. Please don’t cut my head off.” You love teasing him.

“You’re drunk.” He was pointing out the obvious by that time, after two bottles of wine.

“Yes she’s a songwriter. They said before thay she’s the words to my melody. Well… before.”

Something about those words just made your heart ache. Frowning in his words you continue to listen.

“We’re together for about 2 years? And then on and off after…. She cheated on me, slept with another producer from another company. I really thought that was the end but after that i still accepted her. I don’t know why.”

“Aigoo you dumbass solider of love. And then??” Continuously frowning in frustration led you to keep on drinking.

He has no plans of actually telling this story tonight, it just poured out. You’re just one of those people that actually listens. He has seen you before, how intensely you focus on a movie or in a book that it bothers you for day. You love hearing stories and your willingness felt like a safe space for his unspoken scars.

“She keeps coming back to me and I keep accepting her. That’s it.”

With a confused look on your face, “I don’t get it.”

“Like you said, relationships are messy.” He’s obviously trying to close the topic already but that’s not going to stop you—you never stop midway of the story. This is not how it ends.

“Messy is one thing, toxic is another. And since when are you a coward? You don’t strike me as one. Really.” ‘Yeah i was.’ Yoongi thought in his head. Words are just literally pouring out of your mouth by now, drowning yet another glass. Yoongi opening your forth bottle.

“Boy, I bought the wrong alcohol tonight, tequila would’ve been perfect.” You declared as he pours you a refill. He laughed at this comment, he kept wondering sometimes how easy it is for you to make him laugh.

“No but all kidding aside… Hard question coming in, Min Yoongi. Do you still love her?” Looking right at his eyes and him staring back at you as he answered. “No, we broke up a month before I moved in here.”

‘That’s quite a while, at least 9 or 10 months now…’ you thought to yourself

“Yeah but having been broken up doesn’t mean that love is gone. It’s not a switch you know.”

“I know. And I wish it was, she’s was a big part of my life I’m not denying that and maybe she always will be. But I’ve changed, she has changed—we’re no longer the same people that we were in the same relationship where I keep questioning my self worth. That’s done now, over. Love took a turn, and it doesn’t look the same anymore. We’re just co-workers now that’s all.”

You like the way he said it. Being no longer the same people that they were. You nodded in his statement not sure what to say next and also feeling a little dizzy.

“I gotta pee.” You suddenly declared and stood up, ran in small steps to the bathroom with Yoongi smiling at you and shaking his head.

And when you got back, he got you a warm water on your favorite mug.

Your thoughts are all over the place when you’re drunk, like you said—your mouth just spills it all out.

“You know what, this is all very brave of you. Being friends with your ex, I can’t imagine.”

“Why? Can’t you?” Staring blankly and holding onto your mug, eyes blinking fast in this question.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never really done it before, I’ll let you know if I can.”

You’ve been staring hard on your mug contemplating on his question. He gently touched your hand that’s been holding your mug and said, “Just drink your water.” And pulled it away as soon as you looked like your soul has comeback to earth.

“Can’t I…?” You repeated the question again, and this time out loud.

Hands underneath your chin and resting your elbows on the table. Yoongi is just staring at you, hands in his cheeks—thumb underneath his chin, not even sure if you can even see him. “I hate your question.” You looked at his eyes this time and said that and he just smiled and when he did, you narrowed your eyes. “I hate your smile too.” And this time, he gave you an even bigger one, those gummy smile. And whenever he smiles at you like that you just can’t help but grin in return.

You chugged the water and showed him your empty mug.

He got up and put the rest of the unopened bottle of wine back to the fridge just to prevent you from opening yet another. With his back facing you, arranging the couple of bottles left unto your fridge.

“Yoongi-ah, I know and I love how we respect each other’s privacy and all but just in case things get too heavy. I’m always here, you know. I mean, I’m really glad about today.”

He looked back at you, hands underneath your chin again and eyelids looking all heavy.

“Same goes for you, I’m always here…” And he turned his back again, “fixing you some food and light bulbs.”

And that statement made you smile. “Indeed, my friend. Indeed.”

He went back to the table and grabbed your wine glass and emptying it for you.

“So you wanna talk about how nothing went right today?” You sighed with your eyes closed.

“Maybe next time, my friend.” You stood up from the dinning table, offered to clean the rest of the dishes but Yoongi insisted that he’d do it instead. So you just nodded and slowly creep back into your room.

“Thanks for today, Yoongi.” You thanked him before you go, peeking behind the wall near the counter and he just smiled at you, cleaning gloves on and started washing the dishes.

Minutes later, you shouted from inside of your room.

“Hey i’ll be in the bathroom for a while. Hope you’re already done using it.”

Yoongi didnt answer. He’s already in his room.

You sat in the tub filled with water that is too hot for anyone else but not for you. Head all dizzy and pounding. It’s 2 am and nothing is more comforting than the silence of it all. Alcohol keeps you awake, more than coffee ever does. The dizziness, the feeling that is drilling in your head, makes it hard for you to sleep. Despite the fact that you always drink. You always drink on an empty stomach though, just so you’re sure you would pass out and not have a hard time sleeping.

But tonight you can’t say no—Yoongi made dinner and as much as you hate how you’re having a hard time now you don’t regret it. The question he said, still lingers. And you know your answer to this, you can’t.

Along with the headache, comes the memories you rarely remember—there are just some special days where somehow the guilt and regret still comes to you in waves, together with conversations you long to let go.

“You can’t be serious?” Joon said, voice cracking with hand on his hair in frustration. “But I am.” With a straight face you answered, “I can’t marry you, Joon. I don’t want to have kids and I know how much you want to have children.” Feeling the desperation in his face and actions, he held your hands close and hugged you. “I love you, I want to marry you. We don’t need to have kids immediately, that’s years away. We don’t have to even worry about that now.” It hurts you to seem him this way, yes both of you may be young—maybe you will change your mind but there’s no guarantee to it. You held onto his shoulder to see his face, tears kept rolling down his face and you keep wiping it off one by one. You’ve thought about this even just a year into the relationship, with all the dad jokes and tiny little shoes he kept in his room. He’s going to be a wonderful dad you thought—maybe not just to your kids because you don’t want one.

The most wonderful man in the world just asked you to marry him a few minutes ago, and now he’s crying on your shoulder in defeat. While you can’t even bring yourself to cry, everything about this just made you numb. You just know you’re doing the right thing. Keeping him by your side with a promise of a future you can’t guarantee is not what love is. You loved him—even much so that you could ever admit.

With the knock on the door, you went back to reality.

“Hey you in there?” His voice echoing at 2 in the morning.

“Yeah, I’ll be here still for a while. You need it?”

“No, it’s okay.” He quietly said, as you heard his footsteps getting farther away.

moodboard sr: x

[awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands]

Laid out cold, now we're both alone (part 2)

A/N: Hello, this fic is very important to me because I tried my best to give justice to such a cool idea and I hope I did a good job. Plus I don't do multichapter ofter, so this was a challenge. 

I wanna thank the lovely @livdonna for proofreading my work, you're literally the best <3. 

P.S. If you want to get tagged in the next chapters, let me know.

Summary: Nikki visits Mick to give him a very important task.

Warnings: Major Character Death,Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Drug Use, Angst, Overdose.

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Tommy Lee

Chapter 1

Taglist: @slashscowboyboots @witchytombstonesmile @arnold-layne @emometalhead​ @i-dont-like-rice​ @nikki-sexx​ @smokeandmirrorz​

Mick was supposed to not give a shit about Nikki. He and the stupid drummer had tormented him and his wife for months on ends, making the whole tour a living hell and he didn’t need to have even more things to worry about. So what if his bassist decided to get addicted to heroin? He was a fucking dumbass but it wasn’t his problem.  He would end up killing himself and it wasn’t like Mick could have done something, not when his whole body was torturing him.

The only problem was that he cared, deep down. He cared about the fucker and hearing the news that he was gone forever hit him.  He lost one of his friends and the band all together in a day, what would have happened? He hated to admit he was scared about the future, it was hard to imagine Motley Crue without Nikki.

He sighed, turning off yet another discussion about his death. They didn’t call him yet but something was telling him that they had to release a statement soon.  Doc was probably freaking out somewhere crying for all his millions of dollars lost.

“Fucking Nikki, you had to die at the worst moment, didn’t you?”

“Yeah… sorry about that, man” A voice incredibly similar to Nikki said, making Mick jump up.

Nikki didn’t feel anything, one moment they were in the ambulance and the other they were on the beach.  He was confused for a moment before he remembered that Mick had a beach house, and stared at it for a bit. He didn’t know much about the guitarist, maybe almost nothing but he respected him so much.  He was one of the strongest dudes he had ever met.

The weirdest thing about all of this was probably how he was only able to feel certain things, no cravings or sand under his feet as he was walking, yet he would still feel guilt, fear, love, worry… it didn’t make sense but he wasn’t in the mood to question the universe’s rules.

People can’t see you until you decide to show yourself. You have to remember or otherwise they can’t hear or see you.

The voice still freaked him out, but at the same time he was grateful for it to be there… it made him feel less alone, which was great considering how he felt lonely for his entire life.

“You’re not alone Nikki, I’ll always be there with you, through highs and lows”

“God it sounds like a marriage vow, T-Bone”

“Well if I could I’d marry now…”

He shook his head, trying to get the memory out.  It wasn’t the time to be sentimental and risk fucking everything up, so he walked ( more like flew) through the front door and found Mick sitting on the couch.

“Fucking Nikki, you had to die at the worst moment, didn’t you?”

“Yeah… sorry about that, man”. The bassist hoped that he was heard, otherwise it would have been pretty embarrassing.

Mick visibly jumped at hearing Nikki’s voice and quickly turned around to look at him.  From his widened eyes and confused expression, he knew he probably looked fucking transparent.

“Okay first of all why the hell are you here talking to me if you’re dead? Then why the fuck can I see myself through you ?”

The black haired man just realized that he had no idea how to explain everything and be believed, he just went along with whatever the voice in his head was saying, but now it was different. He fumbled with his hand and realized he couldn’t feel them, while he tried to come up with the best way to explain to his friend how he was a ghost and why he was there.

“I died… I have no idea how I came back but I have unfinished business and I need to talk to you!”

The guitarist looked at him up and down, clearly skeptical.  However, there wasn’t much arguing… Nikki’s ghost was literally standing in front of him.

“Okay I have no idea if this is a dream, I’m dead or in a coma, or simply I drank too much but now I’ll grab some vodka and you’ll spill your little secrets as you like”.

Nikki smiled a bit… He honestly felt normal for the first time since he was brought back.  Having Mick joking was so familiar, usually Tommy was the aim of his jokes and they all laughed because they were all so unexpected…

Tommy. Thinking about him still hurt, again he wondered if he was okay and how much he missed him… but it wasn’t his time now.  He had other things to talk about as Mick came back into the living room with his glass.

“Mick… you gotta promise me that you won’t let Motley Crue die, that you will fight to keep the band’s legacy.”

The older man looked at him surprised, rolling his eyes.

“Well that’s a bit hard when our bassist and songwriter died!”

Rage and resentment were heavy in his voice but there was more : fear and sadness. Nikki felt guilty and he fucking hated it, it was so unlike him but he couldn’t help it… Mick cared about the band as much as he did.  He always said the band was his life, before heroin came into the picture, but it was also Mick’s and he probably destroyed everything.

“You will find another one, another bassist who is also a songwriter…” The words felt so foreign coming from his mouth.  They even hurt a bit but they were necessary.

“I know you care about this band as much as I do, Mick. I know how much you’ve worked your ass off in shitty bands, trying to find the one that was going to break… I might be dead but Crue can’t have the same fate”.

Mick scoffed, taking a long sip of his vodka.

“It’s not easy, it’s not like we can find the perfect match like we did. Plus, everyone will probably hate him for replacing you!”

The frustration was almost tangible, but there was something else… Mick was scared, he knew everything was about to fade away because of Nikki’s actions, he was already looking at the boat sinking. Nikki started to panic because his band had to live, even in his death! It was pointless and selfish but that was the only thing people could remind him of.

“If you give up, then Vince and Tommy will do the same! I know that you think no one will take you, but the truth is they will. Crue is what it is because of our vision, you are part of it and I’m asking you to keep it going. Think of this as my dying man’s wish… even if I’m already dead”

The older man’s grip on his glass got tighter, his eyes lost in thought as he was pondering Nikki’s words. It was hard to take in, hell that was an understatement, it was fucking insane and probably wouldn’t work but the bassist needed to have this false hope.

“It’s so fucking weird, you know? To realize you’re fucking dead yet here talking to me.”

He was deflecting, Nikki knew it, but didn’t want to push it too far. He learned to know Mick, he kept his promises and he was a hard worker and with a good dose of luck and jokes, you got him to your side.

“Yeah, do you remember how I said you weren’t going to make it in that interview? Well, karma hits like a bitch!”

“Mick might not make it , he drinks a little too much and it looks rough” Mick quoted, trying to imitate Nikki’s voice.

“Yeah and then you said something like I heard what you said and you’re dead, fuck I guess you were right” He laughed but Mick didn’t.

Oh c’mon so what if he was joking about his death? It’s not like anyone really cared about him.  They just saw him as a burden, which he was. Not his mom, nor his band or his Tommy would have really missed him… they would eventually move on.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” He said annoyed but his lips formed a small smile.

“I know, I know. Mick… please promise me that. If Crue is going to end, then my whole life didn’t mean anything! Ple…” He stopped himself, he was so fucking close to begging but he couldn’t. Nikki Sixx didn’t fucking beg, not in life or death.

“I’m thinking about it!”

He really meant the first part. He spent all his teenage and adult years creating the band of his dreams and making sure they conquered the world.  This band was his escape; his attempt at redemption after his shitty childhood. Nobody loved Frank Feranna but he didn’t care, he would become Nikki Sixx and be super fucking famous!

He didn’t need anyone’s love, except that he did.

“ I love you, Nikki.”

“ No you don’t, nobody does, T-Bone”

“Well I fucking do. You gotta pass on my dead body before you’ll hear me not saying it over and over”

His heart might have stopped, but he still felt the big wave of nostalgia hitting him. He couldn’t do it, he would have never been ready to see him again.

“Okay, I will. But listen to me, it won’t be easy and I’m an old man with a fucked up back, so don’t send demons against me if I fail!” The little spark of determination in his eyes relaxed Nikki, he was on board.

“I fucking knew you were the best, Mars! If I wasn’t dead I’d probably tattoo your face on me as a thank you!”

“Oh gross, never say that again!” He pretended to be disgusted but his eyes betrayed him, the small softness in them told Nikki he felt touched.

“Who knows, maybe in hell they have tattoos for the ghosts. God we used to hate each other and now we are two peas in a pod.”

“I still hate you.”

“Ugh, you crushed my heart Mick”

The guitarist flipped him off, rolling his eyes. Nikki desperately wanted to keep talking, if he did then he could have pretended nothing changed, right? He didn’t have to face Vince and Tommy and go through the light… everything would have stayed the same or he could fool himself that it would.

I think it’s time to go to the next person.

The voice was demanding yet still calm. Nikki knew that he couldn’t stay forever, they had to prevent spirits from just lingering into the real world like that, it made him a bit angry but he understood it. It wasn’t like he could have done much anyway…He was just a shell of what he used to be.

“I gotta go Mick…” He wanted to punch himself because he sounded so fucking pathetic, but the other man gave him a compassionate smile.

What he fuck are you, a little small puppy? Oh look Frankie is scared to leave his illusion of a family.

Mick walked him to the other without saying anything, but before turning the handle, which was pointless because Nikki could have just passed through the door, he broke the silence.

“Try to give us some signs, okay? Show us that you’re there… but don’t you fucking dare spill my vodka or I’ll make you two times dead!”

“Oh that’s exactly what I’ll do, thanks for the suggestion!”

He stepped outside and looked at Mick one last time.

“You promised, alien. You gotta do it!”

“Yeah yeah, you better repay me when I come to join you there…” And with one last look, Mick closed the door.

Nikki felt all of the weight crushing down on his body, even if it was made of air. He simply stood still, his mind racing like a freight train, trying to take everything in but also getting ready for his next move… being overwhelmed was an understatement, he felt peeled down like an orange and this was only the beginning. He felt like a fucking coward but he just wanted to get over it, was it that bad to accept his fate and disappear without facing anyone?

You are going to abandon him again? You know why you need to talk to Vince, and you know this will be your last chance to see him, asshole!

He went to kick the sand, but he couldn’t touch it. God, how frustrating was that!

So where are we going next?

Nikki would have wanted to scream at him, give him the middle finger and just run away but it wouldn’t have been helpful, would it? So he forced himself to be as neutral as possible.

“Vince Neil. Take me to his house.”

[mandoalorian]

Loving You For You [Maxwell Lord x GN!Reader]

Summary: Maxwell Lord is struck with a panic attack when he's getting ready to shoot one of his famous infomercials. He's hit with the trauma of his youth and begins to spiral, until you, his loving partner, show him that it's okay to feel afraid and it's okay to find admittance in his struggles.

Warnings: descriptions of poverty, starvation, body dysmorphia, panic attack, general insecurity, brief mention of addiction (alcohol and gambling), brief mention of abuse.

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 2000>

Author's note: So many of you loved 'Perfect to Me', which was about a reader who had their own body dysmorphia (you can find it in my Masterlist under ‘Maxwell Lord’, and asked me to write more. I put a little twist on things and wrote this, a one-shot in which Maxwell suffers from body dysmorphia and struggles to leave his past behind him. Reader discretion advised.

Masterlist

When Maxwell Lorenzano was 6 years old, he owned one pair of shorts and two t-shirts. He had no choice but to wear them throughout the coldest winter in history, his knees red raw from the cold, and they lasted him for two years until he quite literally was growing out of them. When he finally parted with them, his mother gifted him with a dark blue knitted sweater, and Maxwell swore it was the best present he'd ever received. He'd finally feel the warmth he craved so desperately. The warmth that other children got from their parents embrace...he was getting from an itchy sweater that smelt like cheap beer and cigarettes. But it was his, and it was all he had.

After Maxwell's father stole all of the money for his gambling and alcohol addiction, he left Mrs Lorenzano with just five pesetas to feed the small family for a week. The brown eyed boy remembered that winter as the worst one yet. The bedwetting had gotten bad again and he had never gone so hungry. He remembered his stomach rumbling in class and his cheeks would flush as the other kids teased and laughed at him for it. He remembered stealing a banana from another kid's packed lunch, getting caught, and told that if he continued to steal, he'd be nothing but a criminal low-life just like his father. But he was just hungry. His shoes had holes in them so his toes poked out. He bathed in a tin bucket once a week right up until he was a teenager.

And thirty years later, Maxwell Lorenzano, or Lord, as he now went by, was staring at himself in the full length bedroom mirror. Everything was perfect. He'd proved everyone back home wrong. He became someone. Someone esteemed, someone important and someone with a heightened self worth. People asked for his autograph in the street and preached to him about their love and admiration for his work. He was a man who could make dreams come true. Everything was perfect… or so it should've been.

It didn't fit. Maxwell picked at the way the pale pink polo shirt clung to his body. He turned to the side and sighed when he saw the way it highlighted his little tummy. He sucked in his breath, trying to flatten it, but it didn't really work. And for a split second he considered how many meals it would take to lose that little bit of weight. This whole outfit had been tailored for him just two weeks ago and it was perfect but now he hated it. He didn't just hate it. He felt disgusting.

It was weird. Sure his insecurity about his body image was rampant as he took in his appearance, but he didn't feel like himself.

Truthfully, when he changed his name from Lorenzano to Lord he had done it to start anew. That name was his father's and he wanted no association with the man who had abused and tormented him and his mother. But when Maxwell Lorenzano became Max Lord, it was like the struggle ended. He'd fought for so long and so hard trying to fit in with the modern-day example of a successful businessman. He was the least American all-American man. He dyed his hair blonde, even seeked a vocal coach to try and rid himself of his accent. And it worked. Everything was being handed to him on a silver plate. He was the coverboy of Forbes, the owner of three country clubs and day spas across America. The Wall Street Journal were constantly on his case, wanting to interview him. He was swimming in cash. He had everything he could ever want. But it wasn't him.

He felt like a fraud. A liar. A con-man. And as he looked at his reflection in the mirror, he saw nothing but the broken little boy he was thirty years ago, wearing ill-fitted clothes and a fake smile. It wasn't meant to be like this. He was spiralling.

"Hey honey?" he heard your sweet voice call from the next room, your footsteps approaching down the corridor. His tense composure relaxed ever so slightly when he heard you coming, and he grabbed the white suit jacket from the top of the dresser, quickly pulling it over him. He didn't want you to see him like this. See his tummy and the way the stupid shirt didn't fit him the way it did two weeks ago. You'd seen him naked plenty of times and deep down Maxwell knew that you wouldn't care, but he just felt so vulnerable in his own skin. "The camera crew are waiting downstairs in the lobby and they're getting antsy," you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration as you padded into the bedroom. "The director is insufferable, Max. I keep telling him this is your infomercial, not his, but he just-- hey, Max? Are you listening?" you narrowed your eyes with concern. Maxwell hadn't looked at you once since you walked into the room.

"Hmph? Oh yeah." he murmured, turning back around to see if his tummy poked out even wearing the white jacket over the shirt. It didn't, which was a relief for him, but the padded shoulders of the jacket made him look huge and boxy. And it was just another thing he began to hate about himself.

"Are you okay?" you asked, biting your lip and walking towards him. You wrapped your arms around his waist and placed your hands over his tummy. He winced. "Max?"

"Yeah I'm fine." he said quickly, pulling out of your grip and buttoning up the suit jacket.

As he was about to leave the bedroom to start shooting the latest infomercial for his company, Black Gold Cooperative, you grabbed his arm and pulled him back. You popped open to the button of his suit jacket, freeing his tummy, not that you noticed. "You should keep the jacket undone," you hummed. "I like you in pink." You placed the palm of your hand on his chest and subconsciously began to brush him down, straightening his collar so he looked as smart as possible.

"I might get changed. Don't really like this outfit." Max muttered with a frown that made your heart ache.

"Wh-what? You loved it when you tried it on for me at the tailors the other week. And you look so good. Is there something going on?" you asked curiously as Maxwell stepped away from you.

He sighed in defeat (and slight frustration), before ripping the jacket off his body and letting it pool to the ground. "Look." he said, pointing his finger aimlessly at his tummy.

"What?" you asked, genuinely bewildered.

"Look." he repeated again, wiggling his ring clad finger this time.

"Maxie you gotta help me out here," you replied. "What am I looking at?" You noticed Maxwell's lips begin to quiver and tears prick his dark glazed eyes. He swallowed a lump in his throat that he didn't realise he had before slapping his hand over his face in shame and breaking down into a heaving, sobbing mess. "Oh Max," you cooed, taking him in your arms and guiding him over to your bed. You sat him down on slid next to him, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into your chest. "Baby what is it? You can talk to me."

"Nothing fits," he hiccuped, and you felt his tears dampen your own blouse. "I feel disgusting. I feel fake and. Disgusting. It fit two weeks ago- and now-"

"Max," you hushed him, running your fingers through his golden locks of hair. "It fits you perfectly. You look amazing, and I'm not just saying that because I'm your partner, I'm saying it because it really truly does. You look so handsome." you promised him.

"When I look in the mirror all I see is the old me. The me who wet the bed, who starved and stole and who couldn't save my mother from my father's horror and abuse. I moved here to escape it all, but it still haunts me. It follows me and I can't- I just want it to stop." Maxwell confessed, the tears now streaming down his face.

You had dated Max Lord for three years now, and you were both deeply in love with each other, but he had never quite opened up to you about his past trauma. You knew little things here and there but you never expected it to be so bad. Your boyfriend was suffering and you felt so helpless.

"I hate myself." he continued through a choked sob. He began to feel so constricted in his clothes, tugging his pink shirt. It felt like he couldn't breathe, and you saw the panic on his face.

"Hey, breathe with me. Let me help you." you whispered, cupping his face with your hand and wiping away his tears. He found himself subconsciously leaning into your touch and he followed your breathing. Inhale for seven seconds and then exhale. And repeat. It was working. As he followed your breathing, you gently began to undress him and as you discarded the garments of clothing he began to feel better.

Leaving him on the bed, you promised you'd be back in one second, quickly darting into the walk-in closet and bringing out some of his comfiest cashmere pyjamas.

"I- I can't," Maxwell panted. "I have to shoot the- the infomercial."

You shook your head, unfolding the pyjamas. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, okay? This is your infomercial. Not anyone else's."

"I can't let them down." Maxwell insisted, looking back at the clothes that were pooled on the floor. He had to be brave. For once he had to be brave.

"No," you said sternly. Maxwell looked at you with doe eyes. "I want you to change and get into bed. I'll be back in one minute, I'm just going to let the crew and the director know that we'll do this another day."

"Yeah but-" As always, Maxwell Lord was the most stubborn man on the planet. "I can do it. I can- I can-"

"Sweetheart," you whispered, planting a kiss on his forehead. "There's no shame in admitting when you can't do something. No shame in struggling. I love you all the same."

"You aren't embarrassed of me?" he sniffed wearily.

"How could I be? I feel like the luckiest person on the planet because I scored with you. You're the most amazing, gentle, compassionate guy I have ever met. Max, I wish the rest of the world got to see you the way I see you. You are perfect." you smiled and Maxwell felt his cheeks flush pink.

"I love you so much." he confessed, and you giggled, leaning in to brush your lips against his.

"I love you too," you smiled warmly, nudging your nose against his. "Get comfortable and I'll dismiss the crew. I'll bring a VHS up and we can watch a movie in bed too. Anything you fancy?"

Maxwell pondered for a second, trying to remember his wide selection of filmography he kept in one of the living room cabinets. He could always go with one of his favourites— a guilty pleasure he liked to indulge in when he craved comfort. "Breakfast at Tiffany's?" he asked with a hopeful glint in his eye.

"Oh yes, we haven't watched that one in a while! I'll make us both some herbal tea too," you exclaimed, handing him a comb so he could brush out all the hair product and reveal his natural waves. "We've been needing a movie day." you commented.

"Let's not do anything," Maxwell grinned. "For once. Let's just relax and cuddle and watch movies."

"I can't think of anything better." you smiled cheerily, pinching his cheek and giving him another kiss.

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[twistedtranslations]

Idia Shroud - I can’t

You can unlock this story by getting Idia’s SR Ceremony outfit

Translation under the cut

TL notes

Q.E.D. is a manga where the main character gets roped into various detective cases by his friend and only solves them because they asked.

Idia calls others with the -shi suffix, which can be translated as Mr. but I left that out.

Ignihyde Dorm - Idia's room

Idia: Sigh… I can't do it after all… Why did I make that nonsensical promise with Ortho to appear at the entrance ceremony… No, it's because I'm weak to Ortho's requests, I know, I know, I’m almost like that Q.E.D. guy… But I shouldn't be! 

Idia: There's no way that a shut-in like me will suddenly show up at a big event like the entrance ceremony where all the students gather! Y-Y-Yet I'm the dorm leader…?! Just thinking of everyone watching me… Ugh. I'm feeling extremely dizzy. I'm getting a stomachache. I'm totally feeling sick right now, oh no, guess I gotta call in sick;

*Knocking*

Ortho: Brother?

Idia: Ack! … O-Ortho. Is there something?

Ortho: I'm going to the sports field for a bit. There's only one week left until the entrance ceremony, so I quickly have to get used to my new body!

Idia: O-Okay. Have a safe trip. Don't stay out too late.

Ortho: Okay~

Idia: He's so cheerful… Does the entrance ceremony make him that happy? If I were to tell him that I’ll skip out on the entrance ceremony because it’s too harsh for mr, he'll surely be disappointed… What should I do…

*Knocking*

Idia: O-oh!? O-Ortho, is that you!?

Riddle: Idia, it's me, Riddle Rosehearts from Heartslabyul.

Idia: R-R-Riddle?! W-Why are you at Ignihyde?

Riddle: Because the principal asked me. I will bring you to the dorm leader meeting for the ceremony, even if I have to collar you… understand? Good grief, the entrance ceremony is so close, yet you have not even shown your face once during the preparations. The only ones who have not come to the meeting are you and Malleus. Please hurry and come.

Idia: I…

Riddle: I?

Idia: I can't.

Riddle: … Huh? You can't? What do you mean? You are in good health, are you not?

Idia: N-No, Ortho isn't here now… talking face to face with you guys… and then the meeting… I definitely can't do it!

Riddle: Stop making excuses… you are a dorm leader. You should not be so lenient on yourself. It is not like I have free time either. Hurry and go, and open the door!

Idia: I, I-I don't want to! I-It's not like I wanted to become the dorm leader!

Riddle: You are being irresponsible. Once you put in charge, it is only natural that you perform your role, no matter the reason.

Idia: Argh… there it is, oh there it is, "It's only natural"~ There they impose their sense of values upon me again.

Riddle: You are always so irritating! Did I say something wrong?! You are an being inconvenient to everyone. You could have the decency to at least help prepare for the entrance ceremony…

Idia: Oof, there it is, the ultimate magic "Everyone"… Using peer pressure to erase the individual, being looked down upon by the common opinion so you can't see the truth. The youth of today that knows no autonomy, it's truly frightening, I sympathize with the future of Twisted Wonderland.

Riddle: Hn, Hngh…. You cannot even talk to someone's face… The only reason you can use these big words is because this door separates us! I always thought this, but a person like you who loves agitating others corrupts the public morals of this school. More than anything, you displease me. Now stop your fast-talking!

Idia: Huh, why are you the one blowing up in my face… scary… I don't understand what you're trying to accomplish…

Riddle: Hngh! I said it is because you displease me! An incompetent dorm leader like you should not command me around!

Idia: I have a reserved and restrained personality, unlike you attention seeker…

Riddle: … What did you just say?

Idia: Ack… A-Anyway, please leave me alone! I was doing fine like this even before you entered the school.

Riddle: I see, I see. So that's how it is. It must have been awfully easy, was it not? Then why don't you have Ortho Shroud do everything so you don't have to lift a finger!

Idia: Eh?

Riddle: You won't have to attend the meeting, you won't have to prepare for the ceremony, neither will you have to deal with the visitors, you can just leave everything to that robot. In any case, you had no intention of attending the entrance ceremony at all, right? Can it be that you were planning to leave the speech to him as well? How pathetic, being forced to work by the irresponsible dorm leader!

Idia: Huh? I never said I wasn't going to the entrance ceremony? Stop making assumptions? I'm going to this entrance ceremony!

Riddle: Perhaps you should stop bragging about common sense? It seems I have made a terrible fool of myself. Can I expect a moving speech from you?

Idia: Piece of cake.

Riddle: Hm. Then I shall grasp my handkerchief and look forward to it!

Idia: … … …Am I not the fool?! "I'm going to this entrance ceremony"…. I don't want to! I can't! Shitshitshitshit… what to do…

Chapter 2

Mirror Chamber The day of the entrance ceremony

Idia: I-I somehow made it to the mirrors… I can do this. I will do this. Using self-suggestion is important. … …Hn… A, Aah… I can't! It's too scary! If I enter everyone will stare at me anyway?! And then they'll start whispering about me! "Who's that?" "Does he not get burned by his hair?" "Isn't he from the cursed Shroud family…" "His anxiety might be contagious" and things like that… Or maybe they'll start poking me with a stick while saying that I'm gross for being blue all over…! I don't want that! Someone save me! …No this is useless. I should calm down at once. I want to go to a quiet place without people to cool my head… Ah, if Ortho was here, he could encourage me. Where did he go…

Courtyard

Idia: If only I didn’t fight with Riddle... And if I didn’t give Ortho false hope. What should I do now...

???: Is that Shroud I hear?

Idia: Hah?!

Malleus: So it is. How unusual.

Idia: M-Malleus…Why are you here?

Malleus: You mean since when? Hehe, I do not recollect seeing you since you became the dorm leader.

Idia: Malleus Draconia… The next ruler of the Valley of Thorns, the dorm leader of Diasomnia! Why is the Ultra SSR Character that is supposed to play the leading role in the ceremony here!?

Malleus: But to see you outside. What are you doing here?

Idia: Ah… I-I thought I would get some fresh air… just like you.

Malleus: I see, just like me. I understand, you needed a distraction.

Idia: A distraction?_

Malleus: Hm? You want a distraction, right? Looking at the scenery, feeling the atmosphere. Thinking about whatever. Relaxing.

Idia: Relaxing!? I-I can’t get even more anxious!

Malleus: Is that so? Then you should enjoy yourself more.

Idia: Enjoy myself!? …That's where I and you differ.

Malleus: Hm? What do you mean?

Idia: A, Ah, no… It's nothing. … But… But I made a promise with Ortho. I would wear these clothes and come today. That's why… Aah, but it's too scary…!

Malleus: By the way, why are you wearing those clothes?

Idia: Huh?

Malleus: Hm?

Idia: Uhm. Do you mean… they don't fit me? I, I-I, I… look strange after all.

Malleus: Hm. It's not like they don't fit you… but I have my questions. Actually, if you say it's strange, it might be strange.

Idia: Urgh…

Malleus: First of all, why did you promise to "go out" like this? It doesn't seem like a big deal.

Idia: I-It might not be a big deal for you, but for me…!

Malleus: Humans are sometimes awfully inconceivable. Oh well, that's interesting about them.

Idia: Inconceivable…

Malleus: No, I didn't mean to make fun of you. I'm very interested.

Idia: So… it's like this after all huh, I see what you're getting at! So you think I'm not capable of donning these beautiful clothes and appearing before a lot of people! Isn't that what you wanted to get at from the start?_ No matter how much I struggle, it's already confirmed that I'm on the dark route towards multiple bad endings, so it's useless. I-I, I-I-I, I'm…I'm…!

Malleus: Shroud? What happened?

Idia:… Ugh, it's nothing! It doesn’t matter!

Malleus: And there he went. What an awfully strange man. To think he wore his ceremony robes for a simple stroll. … But it has been very noisy since this morning. I wonder if something is happening…

Mirror Chamber

Idia (Tablet): Students of Ignihyde, please gather here…

Riddle: Heh. He did not come even after I gave him a good scolding… he is incompetent, after all. I worry for the students that have a dorm leader this unreliable. They have my most sincere sympathies.

Vil: Hah… he did it.

Ignihyde Dorm - Idia's room

Idia: It seems that the outdoors has nothing but events that torment me…  I should just confine myself and shut out all those useless earthly sounds! From the start, I differed from people like Malleus and other humans who have something I don't. How could I ever forget that. 

Idia: … Hm? But isn't this great? I noticed I couldn’t do it, before I went and made an enormous embarrassment of myself in front of the students… 

Idia: I see… I'm sure Ortho didn't want to expose everyone to his big brother's shameful sight. This is the best! Why, am I simply not the best! Didn’t I just auto-play myself into the best route~ 

Idia: Ortho is probably fully enjoying the entrance ceremony by himself right now. He was looking so much forward to it, after all. This is the best. … It really is.

[lets-get-kraken-boys]

FatGum (Taishiro Toyomitsu) X Chubby! Confectioner/Baker! Reader: Sweets and Treats~

(Description: Woo, I’m so excited for my first story on this account! This inspiration came to me after thinking about our one and only, favorite chubby pro hero and me wanting to see some puppy love for you two. Also, the title says Confectioner/Baker, I want to clarify that Reader isn’t truly a baker but I feel like “Confectioner” wouldn’t reach as large of a crowd as “Baker” would, not a big deal but just FYI. I hope my first fic is enjoyed by those who choose to read, thank you for the support.)

~

Fanfiction Lingo

(Y/N) - Your Name

(H/C) - Hair Color

(E/C) - Eye Color

(F/C) - Favorite Color

~

“Normal speech.”

‘Inner thoughts.’

~

Requester: No One!

Reader Gender: Female (She/Her)

Style of Story: Oneshot // Entirely fluff, a pinning love on both ends, and a happy end to boot! There is one little heartbreak moment, but it’s over in a second.

Word Count: 4.5K Words

WARNING(s): None, unless you see adorable, tooth-rotting fluff as a crime!

~

“Morning, Tammy! Lovely day, isn’t it?” you greeted your employee with a bright smile as she stumbled through the door into your bakery.

She huffed, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, “Sure, but I’ve hardly been up long enough to notice it. How are you always so peppy this early?” She pointed to the mechanical clock ticking from the left wall that read ‘4:04 AM’. You glanced outside and saw hardly anyone walking through the streets, except the occasional drunkard or lonely soul.

You bashfully shrugged your shoulders, “Well, after years of suffering waking up at three in the morning, you kinda get used to the torment! But, hey, so happy we got the shop far away from the center of the city, you can actually see the sunrise from here!” you tried to help her look on the bright side as you handed her one a cup of one of your homemade coffee brews. She took a sip of the drink and let out a content sigh through her nose, a small, but thankful smile on her face.

“You know, for being a confectioner, you make some pretty solid coffee. What is that?” her eyebrows furrowed as she asked, taking another swig to figure out the secret intense flavor.

You giggled, “That’s probably the nutmeg I added. Is it good?”

“More like fantastic, (Y/N). Trying out new recipes again?” she asked over her shoulder, hanging up her light jacket that protected her from the early morning breeze while grabbing her apron. Though, it being July in Japan, she probably wouldn’t need it again for a while.

“Yeah, I think this one will really please the early risers. It gives a special sort of kick to the taste, don’t you think?” you asked while gently sliding open the glass case that held all of the beautifully decorated pastries, grabbing a pair of tongs and a small floral ceramic plate, carefully placing a fresh Apple Strudel onto the plate, and setting it down on the counter.

“Totally. Hey, can I have a--,” Tammy stopped mid-sentence as she turned around to see the delectable treat already waiting for her.

“Your breakfast awaits, m’lady~,” you slurred out in a fake British accent with a cheesy smirk and a dramatic bow.

She scoffed, “You dork. Am I really that predictable?” she asked, scarfing down the pastry in a matter of seconds as she leaned on the counter.

“Yeah, you kinda are,” you joked as she playfully shoved your plush side.

“You know,” she continued, looking down at the gooey food, “It’s a shame you aren’t more popular with the people. You have a great location, an amazing personality and work staff, if I do say so myself, and don’t even get me started on the incredible stuff you make,” she praised.

“Oh, stop it, Tammy. You’re gonna make me blush,” you flushed from her sincere words, “Besides, I’ve only been open for two weeks, it’s going to be slow for awhile. It’ll ramp up eventually.”

“Yeah, I guess, but you can’t deny that your baked goods are better than most of the others in the country! One day, when people get their heads out of their asses, these little gifts of magic are going to make you RICH!” she threw her lanky airs up into the air and around your shoulders. She spun your smaller frame in a circle while the two of you laughed.

“Ha! Yeah yeah, I know! Now, stop your messing around and come help me fill the rest of these Cream Horns.” you concluded while you pat her taller shoulder. She groaned at the request but gave you a tiny nod. Tammy turned around while tying her short, brown hair into a messy bun, readying herself for the busy day ahead. You smiled while she retreated to the kitchen but before you went to follow her you decided to look out the window again.

Shuffling your legs over to the windows, you got a clear view of the rising sun and all its glory, the hints of yellow, orange, pink, red, and even blue from the night's previous dark veil still clung onto the brightening sky. Somehow you had this weird feeling that today something life changing was going to happen. You didn’t know if you should be excited or worried, but you decided to push those thoughts aside and continue on to the back of the shop where you could already hear the clutter and clang of falling pans, no doubt Tammy’s handy work.

Oh, if you only knew how right your hunch was…

~

~ Timeskip to a little later in the day and a P.O.V change to FatGum ~

~

“How much longer do I have for patrol?” I asked myself, pulling out my phone to check the time. The time read ‘9:12 AM’ and I huffed, still a couple more hours to go. Putting the device back in my pocket with a grimace but quickly faked a smile as I continued down the bustling street. The active community, excited civilians, and eager children usually never fails to put a smile on my face, but today everything just felt like a drag. I was sluggish, unfocused, and I couldn’t understand why. I shook my head, get your head in the game, Taishiro. You don’t have time to let your mind wander on duty.

After what seemed like hours, but was more than likely only 15 minutes, I felt my stomach let out a rumbling growl which made me groan. I stopped walking on the sidewalk and took a second to consider the situation, wandering the city for a couple of hours with nothing too exciting to do really works up an appetite, and I do need to keep up my strength. I’m a hero after all, and denying myself is like ignoring my civic duty to protecting the people! At this point, I’ll take any excuse to get out of this pointless shambling. But the REAL question is, what to get? I glanced around the street and noticed a few shops further down the block that looked to be food related. I smirked, perfect.

I wove through the few people occupying the area, past a few excited teenagers who asked for autographs, and eventually made it to the shops. Looking around I saw some insurance shops, an enticing Pad Thai sit down, and few others, but the one that caught my eye was a cutesy, (F/C)-painted bakery named, “Queen of Tarts”. Chuckling at the interesting name choice, I looked inside the establishment through the plexiglass windows.

The inside carried a light, fluffy atmosphere, pastel colored walls combining with the checkered tile floor caused a small smile out of me. A few small tables with delicate iron chairs here and there, but the real prize were the copious amounts of sweets that were displayed in the glass cases. Each were different colors, sizes, but they all looked delicious. Feeling my stomach grumble, I grabbed the door handle, flung it open, and walked into the scrumptious smelling shop. After walking in, the tiny jingle of bells alerting the workers of my presence, I finally saw the most stunning sweet of all.

“Hi, welcome to the Queen of Tarts, how may I help you today?” the gorgeous woman at the counter asked but it didn’t register in my brain because I was already lost in thought. Her adorable (H/C) hair framed her face to show her soft, chubby cheeks, her eyes glistened in the sunlight, and her smile, oh, it completely lit the room with its radiance. Curves in all the right places, I felt my cheeks heat up as I let out a nervous laugh, cursing my inner self for not holding it together. Seriously, I can face the nastiest of villains but throw one pretty lady in front of me and I fall apart? Fantastic. Realizing I wasn’t answering, I quickly stepped forward and cleared my throat.

“Uh, yeah. Hi,” ‘Wow, so smooth, Taishiro,’ I criticized in my head, “I...haven’t seen this store here before, you new?” I offered a smile, which she returned tenfold, making me even more flustered.

“Yes, actually! I set up shop here only a few weeks ago, finally settling in with the hustle and bustle of city life.” she finished, leaning in closer against the marble counter with her arms crossed.

“City life? You didn’t grow up here?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “Grew up on more of the countryside style of life. I love the city though, do you?”

“Yeah, you gotta get used to it when you spend all your time protecting it.” I let a hint of boasting attitude out, hoping she’d realize who I am.

“Ha, I hear ya! I do my own share of ‘protecting’ around here too. Well, if you count making goodies, that is.” she giggled, standing up and walking over to the glass containers. I deflated a little, guess that wasn’t going to work this time. I shuffled over to where she was standing and looked down at the treats they offered.

“So, kind stranger, what is it you’ll be having?” she asked after a minute of me inspecting the pastries. The problem with not being picky about what you eat, means there are tons of more options than that of others, and when all the items look equally as delectable, you get a little overwhelmed. Plus, the fact that a beautiful woman whom I would very much like to not embarrass myself in front of is waiting for my answer doesn’t help.

I gulped, “I don’t know, they all look amazing. What’s your favorite?” I asked, hoping to know a little more about her.

“Oh, gosh, let me think…” she pouted, resting her head on the palm of her hand while looking deep in thought at the treats. The adorable crease of her eyebrows scrunched together, the tip of her tongue poking out in concentration, her lovely, curvalicious body...that’s it, I’m so screwed.

“I think I’d go for the Chocolate Cream Puff,” her answer drawing both me and her out of our distracted states, “My dad taught me years ago this amazing chocolate ganache recipe and I drizzle that all over the tops of homemade pastry puffs and the whipped filling, ugh! It’s to die for, seriously!” she finished, a sparkle in her (E/C) eyes that fueled the fire in my gut. She spoke about food just as passionately as I did! She’s perfect.

Without thinking, I quickly said, “I’ll take ten.”

~

~ (Y/N) P.O.V ~

~

“Alright, there you go, 10 Chocolate Cream Puffs. Have a wonderful day, sir!” I said with a bright smile.

“Please, call me Taishiro. And you are..?” he asked.

I flushed, I’m such a klutz, “(Y/N), pleasure to meet you, Taishiro. I hope you enjoy them and come back to visit m...us! Come visit us again!” I hastily fixed my wording.

As he smiled and waved goodbye, I rolled the tension out of my shoulders and breathed a sigh of relief. It’s okay, he was nice...and cute...and...really handsome. Wow, I am I sweating?

“HOLY CRAP!” I jumped as I heard Tammy squeal out behind me, I spun around to look at her standing in the doorway to the back, watching the leaving guest with an awestruck face.

“What?! Where’s the fire?!” I shouted running up to her, grabbing the edge of my apron.

“(Y/N), look at me,” she grabbed my shoulders and forced me to stare into her hazel eyes, “Do you know who that was?”

I shrugged my shoulders as best as I could under her vice grip, “A customer, right?”

“A custom--ugh, curse you for not keeping up with the media,” she yelled while flinging her arms to the sky in exasperation before shoving them back on my shoulders, “(Y/N), that wasn’t just any old customer! That was the FatGum!”

I blinked, “Uh, who?”

“Aarrghh! The rank 58 Pro Hero in Japan! What did you say to him?!” I paled as her words sunk in. My legs felt like jelly and I wanted to lie on the floor and die of embarrassment as she raved on about my ignorance.

‘Oh, so I’ve fallen for a Pro Hero. Awesome.’

~

~ Timeskip to a few weeks later, same P.O.V ~

~

Who knew meeting a Pro Hero and potentially having a crush on him could be so amazing? After Taishiro, who is apparently a hero named FatGum, left the store, he personally posted on his main platform of media about the shop and how incredible the desserts were! Of course, to get a compliment from a hero who's Quirk is literally based around food, who’s eaten hundreds of thousands of different dishes, for him to specifically point out your’s brought the media swarming. Business went from nearly dead to tons of people coming in at all open hours! It was fantastic, and the handsome gentleman kept his promise of continually coming in and buying heaps of pastries.

You sighed, leaning against the marble counter after helping a few beautiful ladies buy some tarts, watching their desirable, attractive forms leave the shop and walk past the window. Looking around the busy lounge area, all of the customers were stunning, unique, and most of all thin. You glanced down at yourself, insecurities filling your mind about your appearance and unsurprisingly flickering back to the man plaguing your thoughts. You poked the chub, would he? No. He probably already has someone and even if he didn’t, why would he go for you? You’re a no one to him, someone who just sells him baked goods to fuel his Quirk, nothing more.

“Hey, boss man, what’s up?” Asher, a friend and employee of yours, asked while spinning you away from the counter to face him, drawing Tammy’s attention from her place on the stool behind the counter.

“Oh, it’s nothing, Asher. Just distracted is all, I’m fine!” you sighed and faked a smile.

Asher pulled a skeptical look and without looking at Tammy he said, “She’s thinking about him again, isn’t she?”

Tammy, like it was her sixth sense to pick up on gossip, flung herself to Asher’s side with the same skeptical look, “Yep, it’s so obvious.”

“I-It is?!” you yelped, pulling your hands up to your cheeks to hide your growing blush.

“What are we gonna do about them, Tam?” he asked, still not looking at her but instead grabbing your chin and tiling your head from side to side to inspect you.

 “I don’t know what else to do, Ash. He so likes her back but both are too scared to make the first move. Truly a dilemma.” she said, twirling a lock of your (H/C) hair.

“Wait, he does?! How do you know?” you pleaded but they weren’t paying any attention to you anymore, making you puff out your pudgy cheeks in frustration. Opting to ignore them, you listened to the aimless chatter of the seating area. The ambiance of the confectionery made you smile because it was exactly how you’d pictured it as a little girl, the sweet smells, the laughter, it finally felt like home after all these years in the making. All your hard work was paying off in the end. Suddenly, the ringing bells of the door opening drew your attention. Glancing back, you caught a glimpse of a familiar yellow and orange clad figure whose head almost touched the ceiling. You gasped and shoved your friends off of you and to the backroom, spun around, and greeted your favorite customer with a bashful smile.

“Taishiro! How lovely to see you again,” but you quickly noticed it wasn’t just him. Two teenage boys, one with striking red hair and a warm smile and the other trembling and hiding inside of his cloak’s hood, were by FatGum’s side, which made you ask, “And who is this with you?”

“(Y/N), this is Eijirou Kirishima and Tamaki Amajiki, they are training under me for hero internships. I wanted to bring them here so they could try your wicked sweets!” he finished, making you blush even harder.

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you, FatGum! It’s a pleasure to meet you, boys.” you finished, holding out your hand for them to shake.

The red-headed boy, Kirishima, shook your hand with a gentle, but strong grip, “Same here! I’ve heard all about this place because of the news, sorry I couldn’t come sooner!”

“Oh, that’s alright, and it’s wonderful to meet you, Tamaki.” you held out your hand, but all you got from him was a curt nod as he shrunk further into his suit.

“You’ll have to forgive, Amajiki, he’s sort of shy.” Taishiro chuckled, rubbing his hand behind his head.

You pulled your hand back with an understanding smile, “No problem, I totally get social anxiety. Happens to the best of us, I’m afraid.”

“No way,” you suddenly heard Tammy mumble behind you, no doubt to Asher, “He brought his kids to see her. Did not expect that. I respect the flex.”

“Isn’t that a little far for first base material?” Asher whispered back to her. You proceeded to shoot them a terrifying glare and subtly kick both of them in the shins, a symbol for them to scram. They gulped and hobbled off to the back to avoid your wrath while you huffed and whipped your hair out of your face with a smile.

“Anyways, since the three of you are here, what would you boys like? It’s on the house!” you confidently boasted.

Taishiro gasped, “(Y/N), no. I can’t do that to you, we’ll pay.”

“Ah, ah, ah, Taishiro. You are by far the most paying of customers and since you’re my favorite of all I want to give this to you. Call it, uh, thank you present for all the publicity you’ve given my store! I couldn’t have made it this far without you.” you grinned.

He sighed and, though it could have been your imagination, blushed a little, “At least let me pay for my portion. I get considerably more than them.”

“Nope, it’s already been decided! Kirishima, what would you like?” you changed the topic before Taishiro could argue with you again. He rolled his eyes, clear girl.

“Hmm,” Kirishima thought, “Do you have anything with strawberries?”

“I got just the thing for you. How about a Strawberry Turnover?” you directed him over to the case with the pastry. He took one glance and excitedly nodded his head and you smiled, grabbed the sweet with a clean pair of tongs, placed it on a napkin, and handed it over to the young man. He grinned and shoveled the pastry into his mouth without hesitation. 

“Thanks so much, Miss (Y/N)! It’s delicious!” he praised through a mouth full of food, making you giggle at his silliness. Walking back over to the registrar, you saw Tamaki looking at you. When he was caught, he gasped, quickly spun around, and hid himself away from you by pressing into FatGum’s body.

“What would you like, Tamaki?” you patiently asked. Taishiro looked at you with doubt and started saying something but you quickly shushed him and continued to wait for the teen’s answer.

Knowing that you weren’t going to give up, Tamaki quietly mumbled out, “D-D-Do you...have anything with...b-black raspberry? I-If you don’t that’s fine too, I-I didn’t mean to sound too rude or--”

“I believe I do,” you quickly interrupted so he didn’t go into a spiraling haze of self doubt, “Would a Black Raspberry Lychee Cake suffice, Tamaki?”

“Y-Yes, Miss (Y/N)...” he sighed in relief, glancing at you with tears in his eyes. You gave him a reassuring smile and grabbed the treat for him, handing it to FatGum so he could hold on to it for Tamaki.

“And now, what’ll you have, kind stranger?” you grinned as he chuckled.

“I’ll take my usual then, 10 Chocolate Cream Puffs, please.” he concluded while giving a sweet grin.

You snarked, “You always get the same thing every time, Taishiro. Don’t you wanna try anything else? I promise they’re poisoned.” you smirked.

He quirked an eyebrow at you, “Are you sure about that?” he joked.

“Taishiro! What kind of business would I be if I poisoned all my guests?” you laughed at him.

“Okay, okay, I’ll try something different, ma’am. Do you have anything with pineapple?” he asked with curiosity.

“You betcha. How does a Pineapple Poke Cake sound, sir?” you interrogated. You saw stars glisten in his eyes and you giggled at his excitement.

“How many?” you joked.

“I’ll take 12!” he concluded, blissfully staring off into space.

You packaged up his request in a cutesy (F/C) box with your confectionery’s logo and, biting your lip in apprehension, decided that if he wasn’t going to make his move then you would. You quickly wrote down your phone number on top of the box in Sharpie and signed off your name with a small black heart. As you finished the lettering you stared at the box and thought about your previous insecurities. There was still time, still time to take out the pastries, put them in a new box, and forget the whole number thing ever happened.

“Hey, don’t you dare take out those treats and put them in a new box, you hear me, girl?!” you heard a tiny male voice whisper above you. Startled, you looked up to see Tammy and Asher peeking through the window that let the customers see into the back of the bakery to watch the baking happen. You glared at the two, so they had been watching you try and confess your feelings to the fluffy hero in a discreet way.

“What am I supposed to do? What if he doesn’t like me and all the signs I’ve been getting from him are me making up a love story that is never going to happen between us?! What if by doing this I ruin our relationship and he makes sure the business tanks?! This is my life's work and I’m putting it on the line for a stupid chance at love!” you whisper yelled at them, the familiar feeling of fear and pain coursing through your system from previous failed love confessions.

“You really think a sweet man like that is going to make your life’s dream completely fall to pieces?” Tammy questioned and you exhaled, shaking your head ‘no’.

“Then go out there and get yo mans! You have to at least try and snatch that, I have to see my OTP become canon!” she sent a determined glare at you, grabbed the box, shoved it in your hands, spun you around, and pushed your forward. You stumbled and almost tripped onto the floor but caught yourself on the marble counter. Standing up tall, you took a deep breath in and urged your legs to move forward. Getting to the registrar, you smiled at Taishiro and the boys and handed over the box to FatGum after giving a subtle cough.

“Thank you for everything, Taishiro, you’ve helped me in ways you could never imagine. Now, I hope you boys come back sometime!” you spoke to the teens, Kirishima grinning at you with his shark-like teeth.

“Will do, Miss (Y/N)! I couldn’t stay away from this place even if I tried, your desserts are the BOMB!” he laughed, punching his fists together in excitement.

“...Thank you, Miss (Y/N).” Tamaki shyly whispered, giving you half a grin before cowering away once more.

“Don’t mention it, loves! Now, Taishiro, remember that I said this is on the--whoa! Are you okay?” you asked the man. His face was almost as red as his student’s hair, his eyes wide and unfocused as he stared at the top of the box, where your number neatly sat. You gulped, maybe it was the wrong decision after all.

Waving a nervous hand in front of Taishiro’s face, it seemed to break him from his spellbound state as he glanced at your eyes, “Are you...feeling okay, Taishiro?”

He looked at you with a shaken gaze as he laughed off his nerves while saying, “Y-Yeah! Just, um...yeah...you...let’s go, boys! Gotta get back to the patrol! Bye, (Y/N)!” he said while ushering the confused boys away from the counter and to the door. You felt your heart shatter into dozens of pieces as you turned your head down to conceal your sorrowed expression from the rest of the lounge area. You felt your eyes wet with tears but you used the sleeve of your white button down you dry them, you have to stay strong. At least you got it off your chest. Sniffling, you turned your head back up only to see FatGum’s face, only he was suddenly a lot more chiseled in the face and body and wow, did it just get hot in here?

“I forgot one thing.” he said with a flustered smile. You, less heartbroken then before just more confused, shrugged your shoulders in question. He then grasped your shoulders, tilted his head to the side, and planted a loving and firm kiss on your right cheek. You felt your face melt into a puddle of red as he held the kiss for a few seconds longer than anticipated but eventually released your cheek, staring back at you with the same expression as you.

“Did you really think I was going to leave without paying you back, cream puff?” he chuckled with a grin.

“I-I, um…” no longer sorrowed, your brain couldn’t catch up with the fact that he most definitely liked you back.

“Heh, you’re cute when you’re flustered for me. I’ll text you later, okay? Keep on the look out for me!” he said, backing up from the counter, only to grow immensely in size as he returned to the state you had met the hero in. He waved goodbye as he walked back to Kirishima who was practically bouncing off the walls in his excitement.

“Congratulations on the relationship, Miss (Y/N)!” the teen sang out as the three of them left the store to patrol the streets for their hero duties once again.

The entire restaurant was silent as they watched your chubby form turn into a puddle of emotions and ditzy giggles, the only thing that was heard was a loud, “YES! IT’S CANON, BABY!”

~

~

~ The End ~

[commander-kiranerys]

For the fandom blorbo meme: winter begonia! 👀

Send me a fandom and I’ll tell you my:

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most): can i say ning jiulang AND lord qi? because they are such an old married couple that they're basically a unit anyways. but if i have to pick one it's jiulang

scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped): SHANG XIRUI!! have you ever seen a more scrunkly face in your life. his giggles [gently holds]

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave): idk if xiao lai is underrated? but like she is ESSENTIAL and incredible and deserves everything like her novel ending, the drama ending doesn't exist :)

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week): hmm i will say gu dali? despite her yikes introduction she was a fun character after that.

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave): fan lian has extremely poor little meow meow energy. he's just a little creacher.

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason): cheng fengtai makes the best annoyed faces, so i would lightly torment him. discount liu haikuan gets the horse plinko with flames at the bottom.

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell): i would say si xi'er but he did already go to eeby deeby :(( okay definitely that colonel or whoever who put shang xirui in jail in the final arc that i can barely remember exactly what happened

thanks for the ask, luhba! 💖, god i kept remembering new characters and plot lines, this show had so many tiny, barely-intersecting stories lmao. although in some ways life is like that where you have distinct groups of people in your life that don't overlap.... geez i gotta stop myself before i write an essay

[beauregard-s]

Verdigris | Bill Denbrough

Pairing: Bill Denbrough x Reader (18 yo in this one)

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: language, mild hate-to-love trope and mentions of cheating and toxic relationship

A/n: ‘The one with Baseball Player!Bill and the song Verdigris by Gus Dapperton’

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

He can’t stop watching you. 

At the bowling alley on a Friday night. Your arms crossed, a hidden smile on as one of your friends rolls the ball and misses the pins miserably. You probably had a night off, or else you’d be at the arcade trying to tame the thirteen-year-olds that keep fighting over the Pac-Man machine. 

Bill can’t stop staring and it’s annoying beyond belief.

“For fuck’s sake, Bill! Are you playing or not?”

He’s forced to drag his attention away from you under Richie’s hiss only to perceive how everybody is staring at him - except for Ben checking on his shoelaces after tripping on them at least twice already. The looks range from Richie’s pissed one, to Mike, Beverly, and Eddie’s confusion, and laying on Stan’s impassivity.

“I just puh-played two rounds ago, Richie, stop m-mah-messing the order,” he complains, yes, but stepping up and grabbing himself a ball is the same as calling his own bullshit.

His move is absent anyway, only hits three pins because he backs off as soon as the ball leaves his fingers, making room for Ben to go next. Standing more in the back so he can turn his head in your lane’s direction again, all the way across the alley.

Only in time to watch you striking for the second time that night.

Only in time to catch how your eyes automatically fly in his direction right after that.

It’s quick, just a few seconds before you turn away again like at school two - or three? - weeks before, when you shouted out loud in a hallway about how you were cheated on, a thing many girls would hide, never talk about and pray for it to never come up. But you didn’t. When Henry Bowers leaned by your locker and probably tried to slide in some smug explanation, you shut the metal door so loud people around turned their heads and others who didn’t hear it from the first time caught on what was happening as soon as you told him to go ‘get his dick wet with Anna Thompson from now on’.

That being said you stormed out, and your eyes met his because he was frozen in a trance not perceiving at first he was blocking your way.

He couldn’t call you a bully, but nor could he call you an angel. You were Bowers’ girlfriend for quite a while, never messed with him but was never smooth either. You always stood neutral about Bowers tormenting him, almost bored, he noticed. Maybe uncomfortable with the situation if he overthought on that?

Never mattered. Bill recognizes he doesn’t know much about you, never got interested in doing so. Never needed to. You are just y/n, Henry Bowers’ blessed girl - because, thinking about it, yes, someone must be somehow holy to endure that one. Y/n, who he thought that barely minded him but still locked eyes and seemed to flash him a very inconspicuous smile that brought him back to Earth and made him move aside to let you walk into your 6th period class.

Y/n that since then started to hover above him like a little bird of prey, keeping those secretly mischievous eyes on him whenever they shared the room. Driving him insanely curious to find out what all of this is about.

“I swear to God, Big Bill!” Richie cries out in frustration, clapping his hands together in a desperate try to get his attention, “it’s your turn again!”

***

“Homealone again?” Stan asks while buckling up on the driver's seat after leaving the alley almost forcefully when the place closed, Mike’s horn breaking the late-night silence as he leaves to take Ben and Bev home.

“Yeah, for the weekend.” Bill sighs, sinking into the seat and smirking. “Why? Wanna throw a p-party?”

Stan snorts in the dark, turning the keys for the headlights to break through the darkness ahead. “Not after the last one,” he starts the car and leaves while Bill recalls the last party they went to. The party where around 1 am everybody started gossiping about how someone entered a room without knocking and... 

“Y/n l/n, then?”

Bill moves uncomfortably. Of course, the party where everybody found out you were cheated on before you could do it yourself. Stan Uris really sees everything, knows everything, and perceives everything. And also have the gift of smoothly leading people into the point he wants to get to.

“I don’t think so,” Bill says. 

Stan swirls the steering wheel to the left into a quiet street, suffocating another laugh. “So you’re telling me you were not perving on her the whole night.”

“I wasn’t p-puh-p-perving!”

“No!” Stan’s laugh finally comes filled up with irony. “At the bowling alley, at school, whenever she shows up during practices and her great presence disturbs you to the point you miss the pitches… Since she broke up with Bowers, whenever she’s around your mind goes wasted”. Bill grimaces and he goes on. “And judging by tonight, she seems to be at the same place as you are.”

“She’s not at the same p-place as I am because I’m not at any p-place, Stan.” Bill sticks his arm out of the window into the cold breeze, feeling something boiling inside him. That annoyance again. “She’s been teasing me since she broke up with her dear b-boyfriend, it’s all.”

Stan slows down at a crossing, making a snap noise with his tongue. “How convenient, no?” Bill scowls, eyes off the road to look up at his slightly raised brows, and he goes on, “Bowers’ girl gets cheated on and then starts flirting with you, Bill Denbrough. The guy who had his lip split open by those fists more times than we could actually remember.”

“Tell me about it…” Bill’s voice barely comes out as he watches the stores slowly turning into houses with dark windows and faded front porches, trying to smother that burning feeling inside. 

“And you’re playing her game,” Stan adds calmly.

Bill snaps his neck towards the driver's seat again but Stan only shows that same impassivity from earlier, eyes solely on the road. “Don’t tell me you’re not, because you are. I saw it tonight. Besides it, we all know you’re that sucker for unbecoming stuff.”

Bill shakes his head, gnawing on his cheek in bitterness as the car stops in front of a two-floor house and Stan turns the keys, sending them into silence and darkness again, turning on his seat to face a skeptical Bill unclasping his seatbelt harshly.

“I am not. I wanna f-find out what game is she p-playing b-but I’m not playing it myself.”

“Okay,” Stan taps onto the wheel, grinning in his disbelief because he knows Bill well enough to know he may sound like he has his foot down when he’s in fact as unsteady as sand. “But she could put you in big shit trouble, you know?”

Bill gets out of the car, leaning into the window as soon as he closes the door, drawing a cockish grin. “Yeah b-but, again, I’m not playing her game, Stan.”

He assured himself that, even though his mind wanders towards you until he goes to sleep and even though you remain there when he wakes up Saturday morning. 

He’s not playing your game.

But you’ve been testing his limits, slowly getting under his skin somehow with so little effort. Catching his attention when he doesn’t want to give it to you. You’re guaranteed trouble and he hates how you leave him restless whenever you are out of his sight and trouble his mind whenever you are both sharing space.

But he’s not playing your game.

Yet he still finds himself waiting outside the arcade later at night, at a discreet distance with his hands tucked in his jacket’s pockets to keep them from freezing under the fall weather. Bill watches you leading the last kids outta the place, promising an upset little guy they’ll be open early the next day too and turning the sign hanging on the glass door as soon as they leave to warn everyone the place is finally closed. The sweet way you talked to the kid doesn’t match the troublemaker image he painted of you in his mind throughout the day.

He’s not playing the game, but he’s ending it before he goes insane. Being a chess piece is not on his plans. He doesn’t know where you’re going with all of that so he walks into the store, immediately catching your attention.

You’re checking and closing the cashier when the noise makes you look up from behind the counter only to find the surprisingly-not-so-popular pitcher of the Derry High School’s baseball team standing there in between the flashing machines. 

“Hey there, Denbrough,” you say softly, bringing your attention back to the dollar bills. “We’re closed.”

He taps his foot, trying to find the words to say what he wants to say because even though he planned talking to you the whole day, suddenly he feels lost and vulnerable under that nonchalant way of yours. 

“I know, I didn’t come to play.” Bill feels proud of how steady he sounds although he’s clenching his hidden fists. He has the slight impression you are not as confused as you seem when you eye him again. This time deeper. 

“How can I help you then?” 

He thought he had a solid plan, but he doesn’t at all. All he can think of is how did Bowers get you? A straight A’s girl with such sweet talk, pretty face, and bold demeanors. 

“You can help me by stopping m-messing around.” There goes his steadiness through the window, every single drop of it when your lips give him a lopsided smile, closing the cashier and pulling a bunch of keys out of a drawer.

“And what do you mean by messing around?” you walk around the counter and passing by him because even though Bill Denbrough is standing in front of you straight out of a dream in his stupid letterman jacket, a robbery wouldn’t be welcome and you gotta lock the doors and close the curtains. That blocks all the light from the outside, sending both of you into a gloom only lightened by the neon lights around. 

“I mean all the flirting you’re doing.” His voice deepens a tone. “ I want you to stop it.”

He looks adorably anxious, of course. All fidgety when he’s trying to confront you that way but flinching when you turn on your heels to face him, his hands still in his pockets for what? Hide his nervous manners?

Not that you’re that secure yourself with your sped up heart. You wish you had pockets too so you could hide how you poke a cuticle on your thumb.

“I’m not flirting with you,” you say simply. “I know you’d like that, but-“

“You wish, l/n” he hisses and you know you’ve hit a weak spot. Also not that you didn’t know said weak spot exists.

“I know what you’re doing, and I’m not getting in trouble for it.” Bill steps closer, letting his sweaty hands finally fall to his sides. 

“Again, I’m not the one messing around” You see his jaw clench, and go on leaning back against the Donkey Kong machine. “You are.”

Bill snorts and the way he runs his fingers through his auburn hair messing it in frustration makes things to you. Yes, Bill Denbrough in his lettermen jacket is stupid… stupidly hot, even if you hate admitting that.

“I’m n-not-“

“Are you sure?” You defy him, resting your hands on the machine and accidentally hitting the joystick. “So you’re telling me you’ve not been leering me around, casually hanging out with your friends by my locker or… Following my ex-boyfriend around to make sure he’s not coming close to me, Bill?”

Touché. 

You never called him ‘Bill’ before, but thought it would match the soft-turn your voice takes and the little ‘got you’ move you just made. Bill thinks it raises a level. He said he didn’t come to play, but it feels like he did and now he’s losing because you know something you shouldn’t. 

You know last Tuesday he followed Patrick Hockstetter’s car because he saw them harassing you when you were walking home after school. He watched when they pulled over by the sidewalk, Bowers leaning out through the window and saying something that made you argue with him for a while before you kept walking and they drove out. Bill should’ve turned right and drive home, but he turned left and followed them instead, made sure they went home and not after you. 

“I was just trying to m-muh-make sure you were safe,” he reasons but inside he’s recognizing his failure.

Maybe you’ll call him a creeper for that? No, you just bat your eyelashes.

“You really have an unforgiving hero complex.”

“I don’t have a hero complex.”

He does. And maybe an unforgiving crush too because he realizes you’re not the one hovering here. He is. He always thought he never paid attention to you but he did all the time in the deep of his head, dreary by the fact that you ended up with someone like that disgusting jerk.

“A hero complex and a huge neglect towards yourself, apparently” you bicker, the changes in his mind showing briefly in his expression.

“Okay, I m-may be the one m-messing around but you don’t seem like you’re trying to run from it.”

The others have already warned Bill about that, his lack of fear and his broken anti dumbness filter, mainly Beverly, but there he is again. Making dangerous, uncalculated moves, totally improvising his next step to avoid a checkmate from you.

He’s kinda angry, maybe embarrassed, eyes locked on your as he comes closer. You don’t answer because he got a point. From the moment you noticed Bill paying more attention to you after you were publicly free from Henry, you never intended on cutting him off. You fed the fire and now, with his eyes so deep in yours and the smell of his cologne all around you, you let him taste a bit of power to decrease that embarrassment of his. 

“Are you trying to imply that I want you too?” You whisper, no need to talk louder with his chest an inch from yours like that. 

He likes how beautiful you look like that, face shining in verdigris tones flashing from the next machine, the way it turns you into neon pink and back to the blueish-green. He likes how daring you look even if he’s towering over you, inches taller, little knowing how you’re putting on a fight to keep yourself solid and your thoughts in place. Without much success when he leans in and brushes his chapped lips along your soft ones.

“Again, you wish, l/n.”

The previous moves were yours but in a turn, you’re the one getting the final checkmate when you give in and pull him into a kiss. A greedy and heated kiss that showed how you’ve been craving each other. Bill presses against you as he’s trying to challenge the laws of physics, his tongue licking into your mouth as your hands clutch on his thick jacket, feeling his broad shoulders underneath. His hands cup your face, his thumbs gently tracing up your cheekbones in contrast to how roughly his lips take yours, only for a moment before his arms embrace your waist and he smugly slides a large hand into your jeans’ pockets.

He swore himself he wouldn’t play your game, but he feels like he did and just lost it when he leaves your lips and trails the tip of his nose down your neck, feeling how you softly quiver in his arms, breathing in your perfume. Pulling away before everything goes to waste.

“As I said, totally n-not running away from me,” he mutters, leaving you. 

You shake your head slowly, a mazy little smile glued on your lips. “Screw you, Denbrough…” But the words drip out like honey to him as he walks backwards towards the door. 

Bill turns the keys still in the lock behind his back, flashing a cocky grin at you as he pushes the door open. He feels defeated, you do too but somehow none of you regret what just happened in the empty arcade. He can see you don't by the way you look at him as he leaves. It’s not just one of those glances anymore.

He feels defeated, but maybe it will be worth it.

“S-see you later, y/n.”

[animebw]

Binge-Watching: Re:Zero S2, Episodes 12-13

I love this show.

I really, truly love this show.

The Worlds Left Behind

Natsuki Subaru has been through hell this arc. Even by the high standards of suffering Re:Zero has already set, arc 4 has been a fucking nightmare. He’s died in so many horrific ways and seen his friends die in so many more. Every attempt he’s made to fix things has only made his situation seem even more unsalvageable. He’s barely allowed to breathe between deaths before he finds out that things are even worse than he previously imagined. And just when we think things can’t get any more hopeless, we’re proven wrong. It. Has. Been. A. Ride. And yet, I honestly thought that last episode’s cavalcade of terror would be the worst things got. Surely, after Suicidal Beatrice and Crazed Satella-esque Emilia and Roswaal Is Our Enemy all getting dropped on us in the same twenty-five minute space, after Subaru suffers possibly his bleakest death yet, it was finally time to take a deep breath, recover our sanity, and start working to fight our way back to safety. Surely, things couldn’t possibly get any worse than this.

At some point, I really gotta stop jinxing myself.

What happens to the worlds that Subaru leaves behind when he dies and re-starts? Are they erased and folded back into the main timeline, no harm done? Or does Subaru simply abandon them for a new timeline, leaving all his friends and loved ones behind to suffer in his absence? It’s a question Re:Zero has left notably unanswered for almost forty episodes, barely even hinting that it should be on our minds in the first place. We’ve had glimpses, sure; Rem says a line after bashing Subaru’s brains out, Emilia reacts to the sensation of Julius killing Subaru to kill Betelgeuse. But these could easily be interpreted as artistic license to drive home the impact of the deaths themselves. Much like Subaru’s life back in our world, Re:Zero addressed the possibility of Subaru’s worlds outliving his death by not addressing it at all, putting it so far out of mind that the question might as well not even exist. Hell, even now, we don’t know if the visions Subaru saw in the second trial were true depictions of his old worlds or simply images crafted by his psyche to torment him and test his worthiness. I suspect Re:Zero’s gonna keep us wondering on that front for quite some time to come. Which, in a way, is possibly even crueler. It’s one thing to know for certain that our hero’s actions have left his friends in misery on multiple occasions, but to only have that suspicion? And not knowing for sure if he’s hurting the people he cares about? That’s going to weigh on my mind every single time Subaru dies from now on, and I know the same is true for him. It’s gonna be fucking rough.

That being said, even raising the possibility of this being true, dragging the idea out of the same limbo that Subaru’s parents used to hang out in as well, is one of the cruelest tricks this show has pulled yet. Until now, we’ve had a certain distance from Subaru’s many, many deaths. No matter how brutal or vicious they are, we’ve never hung around to see what comes next. Now, though? We see everything. Subaru’s friends crying over his body. Lamenting his choice to kill himself. Wracked with grief and despair and beset by dangers he’s no longer around to save them from. Suddenly, even Subaru’s most “heroic” deaths are turned into tragedies. His triumphant leap off a cliff while shouting about how much he loves everyone in the mansion no longer seems quite so triumphant when we see Ram and Beatrice pick up the splattered pieces of his corpse, broken and miserable at the “love” he’s apparently shown them. And just like that, his entire self-image is once again shattered. Just like that, his attempt to be a worthy hero is once again ripped from him, chewed up, and spat back in his face. He’s laid as low as one can possibly be, stripped of all his defenses and left shivering out in the cold.

And who should come along like a warm blanket but a very familiar face?

A False Comfort

It’s a testament to the power of this show that my first reaction to hearing Rem’s voice for the first time in eleven episode was to break down sobbing. Not because I was relieved she was back, but because I knew there was no way this could possibly be real. Even putting aside the logistical questions of how she would’ve woken up and made it into the Sanctuary, how perfectly cruel would it be? All Subaru’s gone through without her, slowly pushing all his friends away and trying to take on the world alone, cracking under incredible pressure too much for one boy to bear, and just when he just can’t take it anymore, along comes the easy escape hatch he so desperately needs. Someone to love him no matter what, to listen to all his worries and accept him at his worst, to comfort him unquestioningly when comfort seems all but impossible. It’s a fantasy too perfect to be true, and even as traumatized a Subaru is (”How many times do I leave you all to die? How many times to I kill you?” hi hello I’m crying in the club), he’s not blind enough to realize how wrong it is. And besides, not even Rem would tell Subaru to give up entirely. Not even a girl as selfless and loving as her would tell him to let her shoulder the entire burden and give into his weakness. Didn’t she speak of the perfect life they could live together just to reject it because she knew Subaru would just be giving up by settling for her? Didn’t she surrender her own happiness because she believed in a boy who had the capacity to be better than that? Isn’t the reason she’s such an incredible person that she never, ever, ever gave up on hope?

No, Rem would never let Subaru sink into his despair. She would tell him to find courage, to never stop trying, to be the hero she knows he’s capable of. She would tell him that his weakness is no excuse to stop trying because he’s proven himself able to rise above it time and time again. In a way, she really was harder on Subaru than anyone else. Simply by believing he could be good, Rem gave him the responsibility to try and live up to that belief instead of wallowing in his worst impulses. So for her sake- not for this imposter, but for the sake of the real Rem- Subaru can’t give up now either. Not while he still has breath in his body. Not while he still has the tiniest chance of carving out a brighter future. Once again, he must surrender to this girl’s kindness and let it trap him. Now, more than ever, he simply cannot afford to let her down. There’s nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, nowhere he can turn to escape looking in the mirror. For Rem’s sake, for Emilia’s sake, for the sake of everyone he’s fought and bled and died for all this time... Subaru must face himself at last.

So face himself he does.

And the face he sees is the face of a boy who believes his life only matters by him ending it.

I Want to Die

As I write these words, my mind goes back to the very first episode of this season. Subaru stabbing himself in the throat to try and save Rem was one of the first times he chose to kill himself and reset of his own volition, rather than something else killing him. It was an indication that he’s started to think of Return by Death tactically, as a strategy he can employ to achieve his goals. And we’ve seen more hints of that throughout this season; Subaru’s become much more aware of how he can use Return by Death proactively. It’s been a fantastic part of his character growth, watching him come to better understand the tools in his toolbox and how best to apply them. But something unfortunate happened in that midst of that growth; Subaru became obsessed with the idea of using his own death as a tool to save everyone. He started to thing that since he’s the only one who’ll remember the suffering everyone went through once the loop resets, then he needs to take all that suffering on his head and save everyone else from experiencing the same trauma. In his own words, “I’m the only one who needs to see hell.” He’s so full of self-loathing that he thinks he’s the only one who deserves to suffer. He’d sacrifice his life as many times as he could if it means keeping the people he loves safe. Hell, he’d probably be willing to outright commit suicide, to die and never come back, if he thought it would help everyone. If basically no one remembers his suffering anyway, then why does his suffering matter? Why does it matter how much a loser like him suffers, if it means everyone he cares gets to life?

But now, he’s hit with the notion that his repeated deaths might just be putting his friends through a hell just as maddening as his own. That his attempts at self-sacrifice might just sacrifice everyone else in their stead. That his death would emotionally destroy his friends just as surely as if they’d gone through the things he’d gone through. And it sends him into one of the worst spirals of fear we’ve seen from him yet. He’s spent so long believing himself to be worthless, all the way back to the expectations he couldn’t live up to as a dumbass kid. His entire sense of self has been built around him being worthless. And Return by Death ended up being a perfect power to reinforce that self-destructive mindset. Subaru’s nobody special; he’s got no magic powers, no great smarts, no incredible strength. The one thing he does have is the power to throw his life away and try again. Literally the only advantage he has in this world is the ability to die as many times as he wants. Of course that would feed his self-loathing. Of course he’d come to see his life as having no value beyond how he chooses to end it. Of course he’d react this badly to the idea that even death might not be enough to spare his friends misery. If he can’t even die right, then what the hell can he do? How is he supposed to find value in his life when even the one thing he thought he had going for him is just another way for him to let everyone down? He’s spiraling, spiraling, spiraling with no way out, not enough strength to own up to this terror within him, not enough courage to fight his way out of the darkest pit he’s fallen into.

Which means it falls to the most unusual set of hands imaginable to reach down and lift him out.

Coven

I’ll admit, part of me still underestimated the Witches of Sin as characters before this session. Their designs are so- for lack of a better word- anime that it was hard for me to take them seriously as embodiments of incredible power. That all changes over the course of these episodes, as we finally get to see them all hanging out together. And I mean all of them; even fucking Satella finds her way into the mind graveyard to speak with her sisters (I like the reveal that Echidna was totally bullshitting about how she could only summon one witch spirit at a time; she’s such a troll). The seven most powerful beings in Re:Zero, beings we’ve been told to think of as dangerous, evil witches, beings we’ve been told to fear with every fiber of our bodies. And they simultaneously fit that description perfectly and yet don’t fit it at all.

Because yes, these are terrifying, ancient, dangerous sorcerers, with goals and motives so far removed from our own that there’s no way we can possibly trust them. Echidna’s riveting monologue at the end of episode 12 is proof enough of that. For all her power, she approaches morality like an overgrown child, setting up contracts and crises simply for the pleasure of seeing how people react within them. When she told Beatrice to wait in her library for “the one” to come and save her, she didn’t have anyone in mind; she simply wanted to see who Betty would choose to be her “one” and what that would say about her. It’s all a game to the Witch of Greed, a game to gain delicious knowledge however she can regardless of who ends up suffering for it. Hell, she’d even surrender her own autonomy to Subaru if it meant the chance to hoard yet more information about the world and the people in it. She’s sacrifice her body, her time, anything and everything to slake her greed. I never thought a girl offering to surrender her personhood to a guy could be this genuinely intimidating, but Echidna makes it work. Someone with this few scruples about causing harm, either to others or herself, is someone who you simply could not stop if she decided to make you her enemy. Subaru’s not wrong to tear her a new one for her shallow callousness, but if Echidna removing his permission to undergo the trials is truly the only punishment she gave him as a result (and who knows, there might be more to come), then he got off so fucking easy.

And yet... as alien and morally questionable as these witches are, there’s something unmistakably human about them. They have desires, fears, wishes, hopes, the capacity to hate, the capacity to love. And there’s one thing that unites them all: they all want to help Subaru. Even if it’s for mysterious ends that probably spell doom and disaster for everyone involved, even if they’re at cross-purpose with each other on how to help him, they all want to see his journey succeed. Hell, Minerva the Witch of Wrath leans so far into her magical girl persona that she basically becomes a one-woman, hyper-aggressive therapy session, beating lessons of self-love into Subaru’s thick skull with every heart-patterned punch (”I won’t let self-harm, suicide or murder happen on my watch!”) Whatever her other motives might be, she knows that Subaru denying his friends the chance to share his burden, to try and take all their suffering on himself, is an act as cowardly and despicable as anything her witchy sisters might do. Subaru can’t very well trust any of them to do the right thing, and he sure as hell isn’t going to make them his allies just because they’re in his court. But even he can’t deny that they’ve done him a great service. They can be monsters and guiding lights at the same time, both people he must stand against and people he can accept help from. It’s a fascinating fucking dynamic to watch play out, especially as Subaru’s feelings shift from pure hatred to something more complex and uncertain. That moment where he thanks some of them for being willing to let him die and others for stopping him from killing himself again? That’s going to stick with me for a very long time.

The Voice of Love

But then, there’s the elephant in the room: Satella, the Witch of Envy. Her presence has haunted Subaru ever since he first arrived in this world, haunting his nightmares and just recently spilling out into the real world. Few things in this show have been more terrifying than her hand caressing his heart, silencing his voice as he tries to share his pain with others, wrapping him in a loving embrace and begging him to surrender to it. So imagine my utter shock when we get out first good look at Satella as a character, our first true conversation with this terrifying, primordial evil, and we realize... she actually cares about Subaru. More than any of her sisters, Satella truly seems to have Subaru’s best interests at heart. She begs him to love himself more. She weeps for his self-destructive tendencies. She pleads for him to realize that he needs to include himself among the people he wishes to save. After spending so long trying to escape her siren call, her voice ends up being the voice that Subaru most needs to listen to, and the voice he tries to reject the most violently. All the horrible things she’s done to him and the people he cares about, and the most he’s ever scared of her is when she asks him to see the inherent value of his own life. There are so many layers of tragedy wrapped around that sentiment that I don’t even know where to start unpacking them.

But no matter how hard Subaru tries to fight her words, this time, they sink into him. This time, her message is heard. This time, he’s forced to see his life from the outside in. To hear the voices of all his friends, in this world and others. Cheering for him. Crying for him. Believing in him. Lamenting him. Caring for him. Putting their faith in him. All the kindness and love and empathy he never believed he was worthy of, reflected in the scattered moments of a stalled suicide. Rising in a single voice to deliver a single message:

You are worthy of love.

It’s such a simple sentiment. Such a simple idea. But to someone as lonely as Subaru, who’s doubted and hated himself for years on end, it’s the most powerful concept in the world. His life has value. His life matters. His love matters. The bonds he’s forged are real, and the people he loves love him back. He is more than a loser, more than a washout, more than a kid who could never be his father’s son, more than a slacker whose life never amounted to anything, more than a fraud grifting his way through a world he doesn’t deserve to live in, more than a coward betraying everyone who ever cared about him. He’s a human like any other, equally capable of courage and cowardice, kindness and cruelty, strength and weakness, love and hate. He’s someone who has helped others and hurt them, done great things and despicable things, a bundle of too many contradictions to ever put a pretty bow upon. He is someone who is worthy of being loved, who will be mourned if he dies, who’s life has so, so, so much more value than simply how he chooses to end it. He is Natsuki Goddamn Subaru, with all the light and shadow that entails.

And at long last... he’s someone who can start believing that he deserves to love himself as well.

Ladies, gentlemen, and everyone in between, I’m not ashamed to say I completely and utterly lost my shit. I was crying so fucking hard I think my eyes are still damp. After everything he’s been through, all the heartache and misery and hard-learned lessons, he’s finally able to start loving himself. To believe he has value. To trust he can become someone greater than his worst impulses. To reject the witches’ aid and find his own strength, not because he’s too afraid to accept their help, but because he knows he can be better than what they’re offering. This cours has been building to this crescendo ever since the start of the season, and seeing it pay off so spectacularly absolutely takes my breath away. I’ve compared Re:Zero to Evangelion in the past with how much suffering they put their protagonists through in the name of dissecting and rebuilding the otaku spirit, but this just might be the greatest realization of that sentiment yet. Just as Shinji realized in the midst of humanity’s mass consciousness over two decades ago, there is no force more powerful in this world than the ability to believe you deserve to exist. That you deserve to love yourself. That you can become someone worthy of all the kindness and empathy the world can offer.  After all, you’re you. And anywhere can be paradise, so long as you have the will to keep living.

And as Subaru returns from the Witches’ Tea Party, flush with newfound hope for himself, he bids one last goodbye to the witch who set him on this path so long ago. The witch he now knows is just as scared and hopeless as he once was. The witch who asks him plainly, with no intimidation or possessiveness, to be the one to end her life, to free her from her suffer. The witch who is so much more human, so much kinder and crueler, than he ever could have predicted.

And he promises Satella the same promise he made to the half-elf girl who resembles her so long ago.

The same promise he made to everyone caught up in his wake.

The same promise he just found the courage to make to himself.

“I swear... I’m going to save you.”

Natsuki Subaru is ready to live.

Against the Devil

But because this arc is truly hell on earth for Subaru, he doesn’t even get time to process the enormity of his newfound hope before something comes along to try and squash it all over again. And gods fucking almighty, I thought Roswaal was terrifying before. I thought disemboweling Rem with a single punch would be the most despicable thing he ever did. I was so, so wrong. It turns out, the mysterious patron who sent Elsa and Maylie to attack the mansion was none other than Roswaal himself. This fucking monster decided to sacrifice his own people, his maids, the townsfolk, countless innocent lives, just to teach Subaru a lesson. To force him to choose who to save; the people in the Sanctuary, or the people in the mansion. To stick him in a situation where he can’t save everyone and has to choose who to let die. To mold him into someone who puts all his effort into achieving one goal and lets all other distractions fall by the wayside. And if you saw my face at this point, you’d be unsurprised to see my visage just as twisted in horror as Subaru’s. Jesus. Goddamn. Fuck. I underestimated Roswaal so fucking much. I had no idea what horrible things he was capable of. This man is truly insane, and he’ll stop at nothing to make Subaru just as insane as him. To break his spirit over countless loops until the boy ends up just like him. And there are no obstacles, no morals, no distractions, nothing that will stand in his way as he fights to achieve that goal. There is nothing but his desire, the overwhelming power to achieve it, and the patience to wait as long as it takes until Subaru’s spirit finally snaps.

Once again, it’s chilling how well Ros and Subaru parallel each other. Before he became aware of its true consequences, Subaru saw Return by Death as a reset button to escape the consequences of his actions, reversing any outcome he didn’t want to happen. Roswaal is an embodiment of that idea taken to its furthest, most selfish extreme. He’s willing to do anything, hurt anyone, destroy anything, and enact any number of evils on the world, safe in the knowledge that it can all be wiped out if need be. He’s Bill Murray in the middle of Groundhog Day, seeing this infinite time loop as an excuse to do whatever he pleases and not care about the consequences. Only with far more power and the willingness to do far, far worse things. And it’s very telling that he wants to change Subaru into a version of Subaru who betrays all his character development. Someone who no longer thinks of the big picture and only sees what’s right in front of his nose. Someone who longer respects Emilia and walks all over her “for her own good.” He might be constantly looking toward the future, but his ultimate desire to make Subaru actually reset to zero. And Subaru can vow he’ll never turn out like Roswaal when he’s on his own, but saying that to his face after becoming aware of just how much of a monster he is almost makes him faint on the spot. Even after everything he’s overcome, this is a foe Subaru genuinely might not be able to defeat.

And he comes so close to breaking again. He comes so close to losing the ground he’d just gained and surrendering to fear. The sheer terror on his face (seriously, the faces in this episode are so fucking good), his mad dash through the forest, collapsing in a gibbering wreck as he asks, “What should I do? What should I do?” over and over again... fuck, can you blame him? How the absolute fuck is he supposed to do this? How the everlasting hell can he stop Elsa, protect the mansion, get Garfiel on his side, free the Sancutary, give Emilia the strength to succeed, stop Roswaal, save everyone from the Great Rabbit, and keep everyone alive? It’s just too much. It’s too much for one person to handle. It’s too much to make it through alone.

Thank god, then, that he just learned he isn’t alone at all.

Take a Deep Breath

And who better to drill that into his thick skull than Otto? Otto, who Subaru has overlooked for so long. Otto, who was the first person to break through Subaru’s self-doubt and make him realize people could care about him. Otto, who called Subaru a friend despite having every reason to push him away. Otto, who’s made Subaru break down crying on multiple occasions now simply by reminding him that he’s not alone in this cruel world. Through all the chaos and turmoil of Re:Zero’s recent arcs, Otto has remained a steady constant that’s never faded away. A source of support that always finds a way to pull through. And in the thick of Subaru’s panic, as he’s lost and scrambling with no clue what to do, Otto’s there to give him the best piece of advice in the world: take a deep breath. Focus. Let your mind slow down. Come back to solid earth. And then let me slug you because you’re a giant fucking idiot and you need to stop putting on a false front of strength when you’re feeling overwhelmed because god dammit Natsuki I’m your friend and I care about you so LET ME HELP YOU ABSOLUTE GODDAMN IDIOT CHILD.

*wheeze*

Yeah, uh, holy shit, Otto is now one of my favorite characters in all of Re:Zero. The moment he clocked Subaru in the face was perfect. It’s perfect in a way that defies analysis. It’s perfect in a way that commentary just can’t help. It’s just everything, all Otto’s kindness and strength, all Subaru’s ignorance being chased away, a sucker punch that shatters the terror of the moment and lets the air in with the overwhelming realization that Subaru doesn’t have to go through this shit alone. Not when he’s got so many incredible people ready to bust their asses and help him fight his way to victory. Not when he now knows he’s worthy of their support. Not when they’ve all come too fucking far together to give up now. No matter how dark the path ahead might seem, we’ll see it through together. Hand in hand, one step at a time, we’ll walk through the valley of the shadow of death, until we finally see the other side. The time for suffering is over; the time has come at last to reach out and seize a better tomorrow with our own hands. Not Roswaal’s broken, selfish tomorrow, but a tomorrow where everyone makes it through, where everyone fights together, where no one has to suffer their demons alone. One way or another, this long, traumatic nightmare will fade... and the dawn will rise once more.

So let’s get to work.

And as we finally bring the first cours of season 2 to a close, let me send us off with one last conclusion: Re:Zero is now second only to FMA Brotherhood itself as the greatest fantasy anime of all time.

And I cannot fucking wait to see where it goes next.

Odds and Ends

-”She turned out that way because I wasn’t here for her.” Oooh no, I don’t like how this train of thought is going.

-”I don’t resent you, Reinhard. You are a true hero. And a hero is all you’ll ever be.” Man, Puck. Maybe I should re-watch Frozen Bond just to remember how awesome you are.

-Ah, of course, the Witch of Lust. That makes sense.

-”What are you plotting?” “An evil scheme. I am a witch.” sdkjfhksjdfhd Echidna I love you

-”It’s a little late to try and play it cool now!” good fucking bye

-”I won’t take your hand. I know who’s hand I want to take!” FUCKING. HELL. YES.

-”You’re acting just like a lonely little child.” I want to see more of Sloth here. Sekhmet seems like an interesting character.

-”I don’t want to die.” “See? That’s how you really feel!” Okay, Minerva’s fucking amazing.

-”Never thought you’d be the first one I learned that from.” PATRASCHE. IS. BEST. GIRL.

Thank you all for joining me on this journey. Here’s looking forward to the second half!

[howdoyousleep3]

Hi Mama K! What do you tell yourself when you’re having a bad body image/mental health day? I’m struggling a lot today 😞

Hi sweet thing. 😚💖 I’ve gone through one hell of a time with this over the past two-ish months, ever since getting off of birth control. Just wanna squeeze you tight thinking about you having bad thoughts about yourself. 🥺

Honestly, I think what has helped me the most lately has been actively providing myself with self care. I am the heaviest I’ve been in a few years, not by a lot but it’s unavoidable. I’m not writing as much as I’m used to. My brain has been the worst it has been in quite some time. But having these moments or these days where I set specific and purposeful time aside for myself has done wonders.

It has been very uplifting and empowering. My mindset has somewhat shifted from looking to other people for reassurance or care (I def still do this, don’t get me wrong) to looking at myself.

No one can show me love better than me.

In these moments where I’m feeling extra bad, I use that time to prove to myself I can take care of myself and love myself. Look at me showering because I need to keep myself clean and taking care of my skin because I deserve the glow and putting on lotion because my skin is dry and drinking water because I’m thirsty and eating slices of cucumber as a snack because my body fucking deserves something that will fuel it and not hold it back.

It’s almost like I trick myself into believing in a strong sense of self-worth. Because if I’m proving to myself that even I can take care of myself and show me love, then every other worthy fucking person better be able to show me love as well. Because if I can, they can.

And when I feel that love from myself in that way, it makes me cherish my body as well. When I treat it with love and respect in these simple self care ways, it leads to a larger sense of appreciation. Did I need to go up a pant size this year? Yeah. Did my body get me through the worst year of teaching I’ll ever experience? It did that. Am I comfier in sweats and hoodies maaaaaaybe because I’m on the chubby side? Absolutely. But I look real fucking cute wearing those things. Do I sometimes absolutely hate looking in the mirror? Ummm yes. But because I treat myself right in these smalls ways, I have this mindset that makes me stop and find the small things I love about myself reflected back in that mirror.

When I was younger I would absolutely torment myself about my appearance: my boobs were too big, my stomach too smushy, my face too fat. But that has gone away with age and maturity as well as this self care journey. I used to drive myself crazy needing an all or nothing and immediate kind of self-appreciation but now it’s one baby step at a time. Would I like to tone my arms and start going on walks and then runs? That is a summer goal, yes. But I also need to acknowledge that my body is going through a massive change right now and that these small things I’m doing will lead me to those goals when the time comes to reach them.

You gotta be patient with yourself, sweetheart. I promise you the absolute smallest things help in the biggest ways. Have you showered? How long has it been since you’ve give yourself water? Put some moisturizer on your face. Write out some thoughts simply to get them out of your brain. Protect your body, fuel your body. You are so very loved and you deserve to feel that love, especially from yourself.

I have rambled far too long so I’m going to stop now. You hit me on a day where I needed to see these words too. I’m always here if you need me. I lub you. 💕