#i'm feeling emotions at 10 in the night so i wrote this

[diary-of-a-scarlet-ibis]

Going straight into the workforce after highschool makes me feel so othered from my old friends sometimes.

I went to a "good" school and so almost all of my friends from school went straight on to university. It was what was expected of us and they all had the money to do it.

As it was coming up to our final exams everyone was talking about applying to university, and how and what and when they were sending in their applications. I found myself lying a lot during this time "oh i'll apply soon!" "oh remind me about it later!" "we can hang out on discord later and fill out the applications together!"

As time went on these lies morphed into different ones "oh i'm thinking of taking a gap year!" "you know i just wanna spend a year working before i decide what i wanna study" "i want to take a break before diving back into school y'know"

The truth was I couldn't afford to go to university. I was on the brink of being evicted and the only person in my household that could work. It hurt to try and twist this reality into something understandable and palatable to my friends and teachers.

I wanted to go to school so badly but it just wasn't an option and every time i acted as if it was my choice it felt like i was grinding broken glass into my chest.

Now this was years ago. The lost and hurt teenager that existed back there is not the person I am today. She felt like it was the end of the world, like it would never get better and she was giving up any chance at a good future.

She was wrong and i'm living breathing proof of that...

But in some ways she was right. Things did change, it was the end of the world she knew, of the future that she had always expected since she was a little kid

One of her biggest fears was missing out on all the things that our friends were going to experience in university (she was so terrified of being left behind) and the thing is that did happen. I lost contact with most of my classmates and I've drifted away from alot of my old teenage friends.

But it's not because they experienced new and cool things in university and left me behind. It's because they haven't grown up at the same rate as i have

In the first year it certainly felt like they were getting to do all theses cool things and be independent adults for the first time while i was stuck living at home and working full time. they made all these new friends while I barely had the time to message them once a week. It hurt to see them get to do everything i dreamed of while i felt trapped and terrified. It drove a distance between us when i would use my precious day off to hang out on campus with them and they'd talk about how hard exams were and how "lucky" i was not to be dealing with that stuff anymore.

They were all going to the same school and always posting pictures together and talking about assignments and events and it hurt so bad to be the only one in the group chat that wasn't there. I was a scared teenager that felt like i was missing out on all the early 20s experiences I felt like I was falling behind everyone else in the race, and I would never be able to catch up

I don't know when exactly that feeling went away, when I stopped feeling like everyone was growing up without me.

I remember my 19th birthday. I planned a fun day out with my friends, I was going to visit their campus and hang out with them for the morning before heading down to a cool boba place with my only other not-in-university friend. I ended up spending half the morning walking around the area on my own while reading fic, and after a few hours I called my friend and asked them to pick me up early. It wasn't because my other friends were ignoring me or excluding me but rather because they just couldn't understand me. They had all this time and freedom to fuck about and finish their assignments right before class and do whatever the fuck they wanted. I'd planned this day off it was a rare commodity.

I realized that I couldn't relate to them in the same way that they couldn't relate to me. They felt young and carefree in a way I hadn't been since I left highschool.

I ended up still having a great birthday but it was the first time I realized that something had changed and maybe it wasn't a bad thing.

Now I find myself looking at my friends. They're about to graduate university. They are different people, they've grown and changed so much since we were dumb kids playing dnd together every night. But they still feel so young (so carefree but also so immature) We drifted away from each other but they didn't outgrow me.

If anything I outgrew them.

I'm working an office job after years of minimum wage retail jobs. It's a great job and i'm so glad to have it but I've found I have nothing to talk about with my old friends.

I'm thinking about saving plans and insurance and the morning commute. I'm buying office pants and looking at part time degree courses. My old friends aren't interesting in hearing about those stuff they have nothing to add to conversations about morning traffic and when the next holiday is or how annoying it is to have to iron blouses.

Maybe next year after they graduate and start looking for a job we'll have more in common but I find I don't really care. I'll always miss the people we were to each other but we've all grown and maybe it's not a bad thing if we drifted away.

It wasn't the end of the world it was just the start of our lives.

And I kinda love mine right now.

[yayakoishii]

Want | Sanji x Chubby! Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Chubby! Reader

WC: 5.5k

Genre: Fluff, slight Angst

Warnings: Sexual harrasment, derogatory terms for chubby people, mentions of blood, insecurities that lead to a bit of light self derogation (Please remember you're absolutely beautiful as you are <3)

A/n: The response on Hunger is insane. Over 700 likes?! I didn't expect much beyond a few 10-20 likes, thank you for all the love 😭 This is another self indulgent fic, more personal to me because I'm chubby myself so... I'm not super proud of the pacing tbh, but it's still pretty good, in my (biased) opinion, haha. I hope you enjoy it!!! ♡

also available on ao3!

When you joined the Straw Hat crew, you didn't expect to fall in love with the blonde chef.

Actually, when you joined them, you weren't in the mindset to think about love and silly crushes. Your island had been destroyed by the Marines for a 'good cause' and despite the Straw Hats' best attempt, you were the only remaining survivor. Luffy kindly offered you a place on his crew, and you joined as an assistant to Chopper, slowly learning from him.

The first few weeks after you joined were tough for you, who had never travelled outside of your island. It took time to get used to the environmental changes along with the emotional grief of losing all your loved ones. The crew tried their best to cheer you up in their own ways, and you would forever be grateful for every one of them for at least trying, even if their methods weren't the most effective for you. It was the thought and the sentiment behind it that counted.

But what did work for you was… food. Ever since you were a child, you had loved food and it was the way you connected to life. Though you were not the greatest cook out there, you were capable of making things that were edible and quite good at times. On the ship though, you never had to cook, because Sanji would always do all the cooking. Whenever you offered to help, to take your mind off the pain you were feeling, he would kindly decline, saying that he would make you whatever you wanted.

But he couldn't. The dishes from your island were not recipes known quite to the rest of the world. Hell, even you didn't know all of them, save for some of your favourite foods that you had learnt from your mother. So you snuck in after dinner and made a dish from your hometown. It wasn't the best food you ever cooked, but it still meant something to you, because you were reminded of home.

You wrote down all the recipes you knew into a book, and kept it close. Whenever you missed your home, you would sneak into the kitchen at night and make yourself something with your wonky cooking skills that made the dish taste different every time. Still, the familiarity was enough to comfort you and let you wallow in the grief at the same time.

Until one day, you couldn't find your book.

"Nami?" You called unsurely to the navigator, who was lying on the deck under shade next to Robin. Behind them, Sanji was serving drinks. The three looked at you in question and suddenly under the scrutiny, your confidence faltered. "Um, uh.. d- did you see a journal somewhere? I can't find mine…"

"The brown one?" She asked, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair. You nodded frantically, hoping she knew. "I don't think I did. Did you check under your bed?"

"I did," you whispered, feeling the sadness wash over you again. It's not like you didn't still remember the recipes, but your memory wasn't the best. Without the book, it would be hard to remember them all.

"Don't worry, we'll find it," Nami got up and reassured you, looking concerned. "Sanji. Robin."

The two of them nodded along and then the four of you were searching for it everywhere, until Sanji had to excuse himself apologetically because he had to go cook lunch. You could only nod, trying not to get down in the dumps again over a book, but it felt a little hopeless. Until you heard Sanji shout from the kitchen. The three of you ran over to find him scolding Luffy, your journal in his hand.

"I just wanted to see what was in it!" Luffy pouted, his rubbery hands swinging around to try and get it back.

"That's an invasion of privacy, Luffy!" Sanji looked angry, but you were too relieved about the fact that you had found the book to get upset with Luffy.

"It's okay," you said, reaching forward to get the book. "It's just… recipes, Luffy. From my hometown."

There was silence in the kitchen for a few seconds and Luffy's face dropped into a serious look.

"I'm sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "I thought… If I knew how to help you, you'd be happier."

It made you laugh softly, your heart warm at his kind intentions.

"Thank you, Captain," you smiled at him, eyes crinkling into crescent moons. "I am happy here. I just… miss my home, sometimes."

He wrapped you into a hug and Nami ruffled your hair a little. You smiled under the attention, holding the book close. Sanji for once was quiet, just staring at the book thoughtfully, though you didn't notice it then.

A few days after that event, Sanji called you to the kitchen before lunchtime. Curiously, you followed him to find… a plate of your favourite dish from your hometown. It was plated beautifully, making it look fancy and yet it still had that homey feeling to it. Sanji didn't say a word, just held out the chair for you to sit. You sat down in a daze, too focused on the smell of it lingering in the room.

It smelled like home.

And when you tasted it, you burst into tears. Because it tasted like home. It tasted exactly like your mom's. All the tears you had held back to not worry the crew were now spilling out without any end but you didn't care. Here, where only Sanji could see you, you let it all out. He didn't say anything, just placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and squeezed to let you know he's there for you. You turned around to face him, but the tears made it all blurry. Knocking your head against his stomach, you cried harder.

Sanji just held your head, carding fingers through your hair in comfort, offering you a handkerchief. That, you realised later, was the moment your feelings for Sanji began.

✿

After that day, you became a lot happier. Somehow, without words, just eating the food that Sanji made was enough to heal your broken heart bit by bit. Sometimes, he made extra because Luffy was curious and wanted to taste it too; and then the whole crew wanted it so Sanji made a few of your dishes for dinner. In that moment, surrounded by the smell of home, around your new family, your heart finally started healing.

You started noticing Sanji everywhere after you got used to life on the Thousand Sunny. From the small things he does, to the loud expressions of love he made, everything about him seemed wonderful and warm to you. Because you knew that beneath his overt affections for all the ladies, he was an infinitely kind, caring and observant person. How were you supposed to not fall for him, when he went above and beyond for you?

And yet, for all his admissions of love, you never believed that he could truly like you back like you felt for him. You were after all, not the prettiest girl around and you knew that. You were not slim like Nami or Robin, and it's not like you absolutely hated your soft and squishy body. But you wondered if Sanji would like you even though you weren't pretty.

All that self consciousness went out the window every time you were in his presence. He never made you feel less, or ugly– in fact, the way he spoke to you always left you a blushing mess. He made you feel special, and in the moment, it would be enough. Until you saw him fawning over Nami or Robin, and then the sneaky voice in your brain would whisper quiet thoughts comparing you to them. You had no chance with him, and you knew that.

And that was fine. You could live with that, couldn't you? You had to, because wanting more than you should never ended well. All it would leave behind is rejection, hurt and awkwardness. So you pressed down the feelings and acted as normally as you could.

The moment you realised that you loved Sanji was probably a memory you would never forget. Although it was unforgettable for you, it probably wasn't particularly that unique to others. That didn't matter to you because it was a memory you cherished ultimately.

It happened when the ship docked on a peaceful little island. Everyone else was going out to enjoy their time, and you wanted to spend that time with Sanji. So, casually, you made your request.

"Sanji?" Your timid utterance of his name got an instant reaction from the chef, who straightened up and looked at you with hearts in his eyes.

"Yes, (y/n)-chan?" He asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Um, you're gonna go grocery shopping, right?" You had seen Nami complaining while handing him the money for the shopping.

"That's right," he leaned closer, almost too close but not quite into your personal bubble. Still, the proximity was enough for you to smell the mild smell of his perfume that left you a little weak in the knees. "Did you want me to get something for you, sweetheart?"

"I just," you hesitated, suddenly scared that he might realise your feelings and get disgusted. No, Sanji wasn't like that, you had to remind yourself. He would never treat you unkindly, even if he knew your feelings. "I heard you always do it alone. I thought you might enjoy some company?"

The hearts in Sanji's eyes disappeared as he stared at you like you were speaking gibberish for a few seconds. Under the intensity of that stare, you fidgeted and waited for his response.

"You're too kind, (y/n)-chan!" He finally cried, holding up your hands in his own bigger and colder ones. You flushed at the action, stammering out an actual gibberish response this time before you were whisked away by the blonde chef to town.

It felt all too much like a date to you, when you walked next to him. Sanji somehow made grocery shopping fun, or maybe that was just because of how much you liked him that anything with him was enjoyable? It didn't matter, you decided, because whichever it was, you couldn't deny that Sanji was equivalent to the sun on a cold day.

He enthusiastically showed you around, as if you were a tourist and he were a guide (when in fact, it was the first time in this town for both of you) causing you to giggle. Whenever you stopped to buy things, he would humour your curious questions on how to pick which vegetable and what cuts of which meat are the best. It felt awfully like a domestic date, one that made you smile when you imagined doing this with Sanji years down the line every week.

"And that's the last of it!" Sanji said happily, picking up the last bag. He was holding all the bags since the start, despite your insistence and now you were anxious, seeing him hold so many bags in his hands.

"Sanji, let me hold a few," you tried again, hands reaching out to take some of them. But Sanji just turned around so you couldn't reach the bags and grinned down at you.

"Nonsense, how could I let such a delicate lady hold such heavy bags?" His words made you flush in embarrassment. You were not delicate in any sense; surely, Sanji knew that too. And in spite of all his sincerity, the word just felt like it was mocking you.

"I'm… not…," you struggled to say, not wanting to argue but unable to keep it in either. With your chubby frame, no one had ever considered you as delicate.

"Let me do this for you, my love," Sanji's voice was soft and infinitely gentle, as if he was indeed holding something fragile in his hands. "I wouldn't feel good letting you carry anything when I'm more than capable."

"But Sanji!" you lightly whined, wringing your hands. "I don't feel good letting you carry all the burden either! Come on, just a few bags?"

Before Sanji could respond, you heard a scared squeak. Your brows furrowed and you looked around the marketplace, finding a man cornering a girl a few feet behind Sanji. She seemed uncomfortable and he was all in her personal space, saying something in a rough, sleazy voice that gave you shivers.

You were not a fighter, but the instinct to protect her overtook the rational part of your brain and you crossed the distance to where they were. Pushing him back, you stood in front of the girl to block her from him.

"Can't you see she's uncomfortable?" You said coldly. "Back off."

The man took an involuntary step back until his eyes fell on you. He reeked of alcohol and smoke and you felt like puking from the putrid stench coming off him but you held it together, trying to come off as more confident than you felt. His eyes roamed over your body shamelessly, and you felt dirty and uncomfortable from the action.

"Don't get in our business, fatty," he grinned, the smell of alcohol doubling the moment he opened his mouth. "Are you jealous that no one will ever give you the attention she's getting?"

The words stabbed you in the gut, even though you knew rationally that you were better off without the bad attention. That was the one perk of being conventionally average in looks– no one really looked at you, in good ways or bad. Or maybe you had just been lucky so far. But hearing him call you that, saying those words, even from someone like him, it hurt a small part of you. Before you could respond, a leg in black slacks came up and kicked the man down with such a force that everybody around paused, shocked by the sudden action.

Even you stepped back automatically, gasping when you saw that it was Sanji, still balancing all the bags perfectly while he had roundhouse kicked the man into the ground with so much force that you could see his teeth had become bloody and he was on the verge of unconsciousness.

"(Y/n)-chan doesn't need the attention of sewer rats like you," he said calmly, straightening back into position smoothly. "Her beauty only deserves the best of the best."

The sight of Sanji saying that with a calm face, his hair slightly tousled, his hands balancing the bags and his leg muscles rippling under the slacks – that image was imprinted in your heart and brain for the rest of your life. The words sent you into a shock, but when they finally processed, you couldn't deny the overwhelming realisation that crashed into you.

You love Sanji.

It wasn't just a silly crush, or something that could go away if you gave it time. The chef had unknowingly carved himself a place into your heart. He was taking over it, chamber by chamber.

"Sanji…" The word came out as a whisper, inaudible under the din of the market as people were talking about what was going on. You snapped out of it when you felt the girl behind you shuffle and you immediately squashed your thoughts down to examine them later. You turned around and asked her, "Are you okay?"

She looked very alarmed and upset, but she still shot you a grateful smile as she murmured, "Yes, thanks to you two."

"He didn't hurt you?" You asked, hands hovering over her as you looked to ensure if she was safe. A peek of crimson caught your eye when she raised her hand to rub her face. Her elbows had scraped against the rough brick wall in his tousling. "You have some scratches!"

"Oh," she turned her arms to look at the wounds, now feeling the burn after the adrenaline and fear response was receding.

"Come on, I'll treat it for you," you offered, opening your sling bag which had some emergency first aid. You usually carried it around for the members when you were off the ship, knowing that they were all too reckless to give a second thought to any wounds.

"Oh, no, no, I couldn't trouble you more!" She said, mortified but you gently shook your head, offering her a hand.

"It's no trouble," you reassured her. It took a little bit of convincing but she eventually calmed down and let you clean up the wound before you parted. Finally, you allowed yourself to look at Sanji, who immediately schooled his features so you wouldn't see the warm adoring look he was giving you the whole time. "Sanji… Are you okay too? You didn't hurt yourself, did you?"

"Do you think I'm that weak, sweetheart?" He smiled teasingly, but you felt the need to defend yourself.

"I know you are strong," you insisted, worrying your lower lip as you tried to look him straight in the eyes but kept getting flustered. "But even strong people get wounds. Just because they are strong, doesn't mean that they don't feel the pain. So tell me honestly, Sanji. Are you hurt anywhere?'

"No," he promised. "But if you're that worried, I'll let you check me all out back on the ship."

He ended that with a wink, and this time, you couldn't hold back the flush threatening to overtake your face again. Sanji couldn't help making the mood light again, but he had no idea of the effect his words had on you.

"Stupid," you weakly pawed at his arm, walking away before he could say anything. The blonde chef just laughed and followed you, face once again soft and fond as he watched you.

✿

Sanji may have been one of the only people onboard who was oblivious to your feelings, because a few of them did figure it out after watching the way you interacted with him. The first ones to realise were Nami and Robin, who called you out on it when the three of you were lying under the shade on the sunny deck.

"Really?" Nami had scrunched her nose, eyes critically analysing Sanji as he walked (danced, really) back to the kitchens after serving drinks to the three of you.

"Really what?" You asked, too busy sipping the cool drink to notice that she had noticed the way you had warmly thanked Sanji and given him a bright smile.

"Sanji?" Nami gave you a pointed look. The name made you freeze, and you tried to play it off.

"What about him?"

"Oh, come on!" Nami threw the slice of lemon that was on her drink. You caught it before it could fall on your shirt and muttered an indignant 'hey!' that the navigator ignored. "You like him, don't you?"

The words were enough to make you hide your face in embarrassment. Robin was smiling knowingly from the other side of Nami and you felt exposed, like they had both just turned you inside out.

"I do," you whispered after the few minutes of silent mortification that Nami had spent in self satisfaction.

"Why that loser though?" She said without any real bite. You knew she wasn't actually demeaning him; it was affectionate, in the way one would talk about their sibling's lovelife.

"Because!" You whispered, eyes running everywhere to check if no one else was around to hear you. "Have you looked at him? He's literally so pretty! He is kind, caring, and so, so thoughtful and generous. Without expecting anything in return, he is always giving and giving and he makes my stomach do silly things. He has curly eyebrows, Nami! I didn't think those could look good on anyone. Hell, I know I would look ugly with them, but he makes it work! It suits him, and he's so beautiful and I'm just–"

You collapsed onto your chair, your wet fingers from the condensation on the drink glass finding purchase in the dips of your face to hide it. Just talking about him was enough to get your heart beating fast, and the mortification of what you had just spilled to the two girls made you want the ground to swallow you already.

"You really like him," Robin's soft observation made you relax. She wasn't teasing you. You turned to look at her and caught the comforting smile she was sending your way.

"I was going to say you could do better," Nami turned to face you, swinging her feet around to your side, "but after hearing all that, I think… You two are perfect for each other. Despite all his antics, he has a good heart. And you'll be good for him, because you see him as he is."

"Yeah?" You couldn't help the small flower of hope blossoming in your chest.

"Really," Nami smiled, a rare genuine smile that was usually reserved for late night talks and reassurances in down times.

"You don't think…." You trailed off, fidgeting with the hem of your top, "he won't… find me good enough?"

"Are you crazy?" Nami snorted, picking up her drink. The melted ice had made the level go up so much that it was threatening to spill any moment. "You're better than anything he could dream of. I told you, didn't I? You would be good for him. Having someone like you in his life to ground him, I think there's nothing better than that. You're one of the sweetest people I have ever met. If anyone here isn't good enough, it's him."

"Hey now," you frowned, ready to defend Sanji but hearing his voice stopped you.

"Who isn't good enough for (y/n)-chan?" His face was stuck in a weird smile, like he was forcing it. He carefully placed the plate of pastries he had brought as he continued casually despite the silence, "I don't know who we are talking about but Nami-chan is right. No one is good enough for our lovely (y/n)-chan."

"Oh, look at that!" You hurriedly switched the topic, looking at the plate he had brought. The tiny pastries were adorable and colourful, looking so delicious that it would have made your mouth water if you weren't distracted at the moment. "This looks so good, Sanji. Seriously, if you keep feeding me like this, my weight will keep increasing!"

The last line became a teasing complaint, but you didn't expect Sanji to come to the side of your chair and lean down to where you were tilted. The proximity caused your eyes to widen, the blood thundering in your ears as he carefully tucked in a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, face so soft and warm that it make your insides feel like they were vibrating.

"All the more for me to love, so I would keep winning, wouldn't I, sweetheart?"

You choked, and the need to get away from him before you did something wild like grab him and kiss him got so much that your knee accidentally shot up and into Sanji's back, pushing him forward. The chef's eyes widened at the sudden attack, but he managed to not collapse on you by quickly holding onto the sides of the chair but now you were trapped in between his arms on top of the close proximity.

It made you so weak in the knees, and there was something hot and warm curling in your gut as you stammered gibberish, feeling like you were about to faint because Sanji's chest was practically touching yours and it was all too much.

"SORRY!" He hurriedly backed off the moment he got his bearings, and for the first time since you had come onboard, you saw him have a genuinely heavily flushed face. There was a little blood starting to leak from one of his nostrils and somehow, it helped you calm down. He was just as affected as you were. The idea was enough to lessen your embarrassment by a little.

"I'm the one who's sorry, Sanji," you said remorsefully, hiding your face completely in your hands this time. "I kicked you!"

"It wasn't on purpose," he said, right hand coming up to hide the blush on his own face. "I'm sorry for… for making you uncomfortable, (y/n)-chan!"

Uncomfortable? Did Sanji have any clue just how comfortable you actually felt? The problem wasn't that you were uncomfortable in the proximity; it was that you were too comfortable, to the point that you never wanted to leave. But that would be a dead giveaway of your feelings, right?

"Okay, this is just painful to watch now," Nami sighed, jolting the two of you. You had nearly forgotten that she and Robin were right there, and they had seen everything. She looked at you unhappily, mouth set in a tight line. "How about you two get a room and make out there?"

"Nami!" You cried out. She really just gave away your crush like that?!

"Just be grateful I'm not demanding money to make up for what I just had to witness," she sniffed haughtily, swinging her legs back onto the chair and pulling down her sunglasses. "Seriously, you two, go talk shit out. Or else, knowing you, you will just be awkward around each other and that's gonna be even more painful to watch."

She wasn't totally wrong. You were planning to avoid him, possibly by jumping off the Sunny and drowning to death since you didn't know how to swim. But that wasn't really a solution and even you could admit that.

"W- What's there to talk-?" Sanji seemed a little scared, wide eyes glancing between the three of you. Nami ignored him, and you were too flustered to look him in the eyes. Nami's suggestion was essentially for you to come clean, wasn't it? But that was easier said than done. The fear of rejection and the eventual awkwardness was gripping your insides in a chokehold, and you couldn't move your feet even if you tried.

"Sanji," Robin said calmly. "Pick up (y/n) and go to the kitchen."

"Huh?" You were startled at her words. Pick you up?! No way! "No, no way, I'm too… I'm too heavy, there's no need for that!" Even as you said that, you couldn't actually bring yourself to move.

"I don't really get it," Sanji admitted, looking between the three of you as he spoke, "but I can do that. (Y/n)-chan?"

"No, Sanji–" the protests died down the moment he bent down and picked you up like you weighed nothing. Even as he walked you across the deck, you couldn't help but think that it was kind of hot just how easily he picked you up. "Sanji…"

He didn't look at you until you were in the kitchen and the door was closed behind the two of you. He walked over to the table and then carefully placed you on it, as if you were a teacup made of fine china teetering with tea. Finally, he let his clear blue eyes stare down at you, the expression on his face more vulnerable and exposed than you had ever seen on him.

"Sanji?"

"I know I made you uncomfortable," he said quietly, backing away. His hands came up to rub away the blood but it only made it spread around and you winced at seeing that. You never wanted to see any blood on Sanji, if you could help it. "I touched your… you. It wasn't my intention, I swear! I just, I wanted, I–"

He abruptly shut up, looking frustrated with himself.

"Sanji."

He didn't look up, fists clenching at his side the moment you said his name.

"Come here, Sanji," you whispered, holding out your hands to beckon him closer. His eyes flickered over your face, as if trying to gauge out what you were feeling, even as he followed through your request without a second thought. You pulled out the handkerchief he had given you long back, and wiped away the blood over his upper lip and cheeks carefully before you picked up his hand. The thumb was bloody too, so you gently held the limb in one of your hands and wiped it with the other. "You didn't make me uncomfortable, Sanji."

He stayed quiet as you continued to wipe it until it was all gone.

"Didn't I?" He said the moment you were done.

"No," you said, looking up at him. You didn't let go of the hand, though you dropped the handkerchief beside you. Somehow, holding his hand seemed to give you the courage to make the admission Nami had told you to. "I… Sanji, I like you. A lot more than I ever thought it was possible to feel towards someone. I like you so much that it physically hurts when I see you flirting with other women. I like you so much that my heart feels warm whenever you are around, and I feel so safe in your arms that I never want to leave. I like it when you are close to me. But I know that you don't like me like that, so whenever you get so close, and I can't help but want you so much, it's painful for me. I never want to let you go."

Sanji's eyes darkened with every word you spoke, a gradual change that you didn't notice at first because you were all in over your head. His hands hovered around your waist as you finished.

"Who told you?" His voice was a little hoarse, and he cleared his throat the moment he realised how desperate he sounded.

"Told me what?" You asked timidly, looking down at your lap.

"That I don't like you?" Sanji's voice was a broken whisper like yours had been. "I have never heard anything more untrue than that. All this time, I wanted you but I kept my feelings to myself. Because you deserve so much, so much more than I am, so much more than I can give. I wanted and I wanted and I felt so greedy, wanting more and more of you, more than you would let me have– I wanted anything you were ready to give, and I also wanted everything you have to give. I thought you wouldn't want someone like me, when there are so many better options around for you–"

"What?" You couldn't help but laugh. All his words were making you delirious; this had to be some wild dream you had conjured up. It didn't feel real. None of it did. "I had better options around? Sanji, I was so sure you would never look twice at me! I never felt like I was pretty enough, or good enough to get your attention and you're telling me… I had better options? That's so–"

You kept laughing, body shaking from the weight of the laughter. Sanji stared at you, unsure hands still hovering around you. His fingers twitched from holding back the urge to pull you into him.

"You are the prettiest girl I have ever seen," he mumbled. "Not good enough to get my attention? Darling, you have had all of my attention ever since I met you. No other woman could compare to you from the moment you made your place in my heart known."

"Did I really have all your attention?" You asked, letting your insecurities bubble up. Now that you were both being honest, it was better to get it all out of the way, right? "Even when you looked at the other women…"

"I never looked at them the way I did you," his words were sincere, and in that moment, they were enough. You looked up at him, and your body broke into shivers the moment you realised the heat in his eyes as he stared down at you; like you were some unique dish he was finally getting the chance to eat after years of craving it.

"I didn't want the other options, Sanji," you whispered, the volume enough for the proximity you were in. "The only one I ever wanted was you."

You held his collars and pulled him in, and it was like he finally snapped, now that he had permission. His hands immediately grasped at your sides, gently holding the soft flesh there as he kissed you. And now it was your time to give and give, while he took from you like your lips were spilling with ambrosia and he was determined to get every drop. His warm breath fanned over your lips and the goosebumps on your skin rose again, your fingers tightening around the collars of his shirt.

When he let your lips go, he was greeted with the sight of your flushed and pleasantly buzzed expression, like you were drunk on him. Seeing you like that, because of him, it was enough to get him groaning.

"So beautiful," he whispered, leaving feather light kisses all over your face. "So gorgeous. All for me. All… for me to have?"

"Yeah," you whispered, looking up at him and seeing the devastated yet over-the-moon expression on Sanji's face. Even without words, he could always just cleave into your heart and press himself within its walls like they were made to fit him, and only him. "You can be greedy. Take all you want. I'm all yours."

°•❀•°

[1-800-kami]

agnes, just stop and think a minute

gojo satoru x reader (1.2k)

" you're gone but you're on my mind, i'm lost but i don't know why. ,,

warnings: CHAPTER 236 SPOILERS, reader and shoko r going THRU it, i wrote this during a mental breakdown, denial, semi-comfort at the end

a/n: when i found out about what happened i just spent 2 hours on social media just. watching everything gojo related and i kind of wanted to reflect my reaction through this word vomit of a drabble. i haven't cried at all but i just feel so devastated and oh my god it's been terrible. rest in peace to my bb </3

based off of one of my favorite glass animals songs (agnes) that i've always associated with gojo.

you like to think that grief in your life always comes and goes.

it’s a part of being a jujutsu sorcerer. each day, new people are trained to become one, and others die the same day. there are new beginnings, and people who meet their ends. you know sorcerers out there who have completely closed themselves off just so they don’t have to experience the soul crushing feeling of grief. 

it’s like a bud, they say. a bud that forcefully plants itself in your heart, and you can do nothing but watch it grow as it takes hold of every part of your being. people describe the feeling in many ways: a weight on top of your chest that won’t cease, or a part of your heart that’s been ripped away, and nothing in your life seems to fill the remnants of it. 

you’ve experienced grief in your life many times. loss is so normalized as a sorcerer that you’ve almost lost count at this point, but the ones that have hit you the hardest are the deaths of your closest friends: kento nanami, yu haibara, and geto suguru. they haunt your thoughts every day, up until the point where everything feels asphyxiating and you sometimes want to join your friends too.

you think that geto’s death hit you the hardest. 

you remember geto’s disappearance and the night parade of a hundred demons like it was yesterday. the hardest pill to swallow about his death was the fact that it could’ve been prevented. geto’s lifeless eyes made you see parallels from the weeks leading up to his disappearance. he just needed a push in the right direction, but then you couldn’t even do that and you didn’t see all the signs of his deteriorating mental health. you just felt so guilty, even though your friends assured you that it wasn’t your fault.

seeing geto’s body for the first time after 10 years made you wail uncontrollably–and you had to be forcefully pried off of him despite your screams of protest. the most prominent thing about his body were his lifeless eyes–and guilt coursed through your veins as you knew that they were probably devoid of life even before his death.

that guilt stuck with you for a long time, and you felt it until you thought that it would consume you whole.

that’s why shoko was hesitant to show you gojo’s body.

she knows that you would have an emotional outburst again, like last time. actually, she knew this one would be worse, because geto was a best friend to you, but satoru was the light of your life. he was your lover. your soulmate, even. the reason why you were excited to come home everyday. he grieved about geto with you, and you held each other when you both cried… usually when december 24th was nearing again. you think that, without satoru, you don’t know what you would do. you kept each other sane and grounded.

so you don’t understand.

why is his body in front of you right now? why are all your students crying around you and mourning gojo’s loss? it’s all the sorcerers are talking about right now, and you just don’t get it.

he’s the strongest, so why did he fucking leave you behind like this? no, no. he wasn’t supposed to lose that fight. he said it himself. he said he’d win, right? he’d win, and he’d come home, albeit injured, but home nonetheless. he’d celebrate his victory with you, and life would go on. so why did he lie?

that’s the only word coursing through your head. why?

you tried not to think about anything right now… like how there was probably so much crimson red on that battlefield. if you saw it, you’d think that the red would leave an everlasting stain in your mind, to the point where you’ll never forget about it. no matter how many times you’d wash your hands, all that red would still be there, and you hate to think about it.

you like to think that grief in your life always comes and goes.

people describe the feeling in many ways, but if you had to describe how you felt right now, the only word you’d use is empty.

you feel so utterly empty and hollow, that you can’t even bring yourself to cry or scream.

shoko’s surprised at your reaction. when she told you what happened, you became eerily silent. your eyes and gojo’s were practically identical. both so devoid of life, that all she can bring herself to say is, “im sorry.”

what do you even say at a time like this? what do you say to someone who’s had their heart ripped apart again and again as they watch each of their friends die? for you and shoko, it’s happened four times now. four is too much. you can’t bring yourself to believe it anymore.

no. this isn’t real.

this isn’t happening right now.

you move for the first time in what seems like ages, and you place your hand in gojo’s open casket, tucking a stray pearl white strand behind his ear. you observe him for a minute. he looks so peaceful, now that he doesn’t have to worry about his infinity or constantly being on his guard anymore.

“shoko, i think he’s hungry.” you say, feeling the ice cold veins in your chest stilling.

your words catch shoko off guard. “huh?”

“he’s hungry,” you repeat simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. you look away from his body and turn to leave. “i’m going to go buy kikufuku for him.” 

you suddenly remember all of the dates you’ve had with satoru, where you buy many sweets like kikufuku, but he always made sure to save you some. he’s known for his notorious sweet tooth—putting one too many sugar cubes in his drinks, but he’ll always share his sweets if it’s with you. even if it was kikufuku.

“it’s his favorite after all.”

you walk out of the funeral, leaving behind the confused and sympathetic looks of everyone there. shoko sighs at your reaction—she’ll let you go for now. everyone’s processing this in different ways, so she can’t blame you for how you’re dealing with satoru’s death. she’ll just hope you’ll learn to accept it soon.

on the way to get kikufuku, you spot a pet shop nearby. there’s a fish tank on display, and you notice that one of the tanks has a white betta fish inside. it’s the same shade as satoru’s hair, and you feel your feet moving on its own as you walk to the glass. you exhale with a shaky sob, placing a hand on it. i love you, satoru. i won’t say goodbye, though, cause i’ll be there eventually.

you make sure not to say “soon” because you knew that if you took your life with your own hands instead of letting fate choose your death, satoru would never let you hear the end of it. so you’ll keep living. you’ll keep living for yourself and satoru, even though you want to join them. every single day hurts and it also hurts to even breathe sometimes. though you know, somewhere out there, satoru and your friends are cheering you on with every step you take.

wait for me… okay?

the betta fish suddenly notices your presence, and swims up against the glass. so close, yet so far. you take that as satoru’s answer. it was like you could hear his voice directly speaking to you.

i’ll always wait for you, no matter how long it takes.

you smile for the first time today, even if it was barely a smile. you felt a familiar presence with you on the other side of that glass, even if it was just for a short moment, and it gave you what strength you had left to keep moving.

[adilynnyuri]

Hello yuri! I'm the one who asked you about revising my father's death. First of all, Thankyou so much for answering me and supporting me! I feel much better than earlier when I affirm for his aliveness but still I get triggered sometimes by circumstances and start to miss him again. But I think I should not supress my emotions too whenever I feel emotionally weak, I cry out so much, feel my emotions, miss him talk to him with his picture and again come back to my imagination, I think this doesn't affect my manifestation, right? Okay, so the final question is, that I always try to fullfill in my imagination and most of the time I do so, I don't care what other people say also my belief system has become stronger but the thing is I always affirm that " I always wake up and see my father alive, healthy and happy and while affirming this I go to sleep and expect that next morning I'll see my father again, but when I don't see him next morning; it triggers me so much that I don't want to even wake up and thoughts like I should suicide come into my minds and then It takes 2 or 3 hours to come back to my normal routine affirmation, how should I deal with this? Is it okay to feel like this? Please help me. Thankyou! Lots of love to you! 💕♥️

Hii love! 🤍

I am once again saying that I completely understand your situation!

But if you want your dad back, you can't take "no" As an answer. If your "3d" Reflects something you don't want it, it is just some bullshit. It is not real. It is real, if you accept the fact it is real.

I understand you are doing everything right but when you wake up, your dad isn't with you and it is triggering you.

AND NEVER EVER TALK ABOUT SUICIDAL THOUGHTS EVER!! YOU ARE MEANT TO BE HAPPY AND BLESSED EVERY SECOND OF YOUR LIFE!! NEVER EVER THINK OF SUICIDING MY LOVE, YOU ARE PRECIOUS AND A GEM FOR THIS WORLD!

I am always there in case of any problems! And also our community people are there for you!! Feel free to share your problems! We will respect you and your feelings totally ♡

Let me give you the same example,

if you write numbers from 1-10 in a note book as homework and you sleep at night being satisfied that you finished your homework and the next day when you wake up will the numbers you wrote in the notebook disappear and will you worry waking up thinking that if you wrote those numbers or not? I mean, it will disappear if you say it disappears. And of course sitting and worrying about something which is already done is also your decision. So if the homework (your desires) are already done, why are you "expecting" Or "worrying" That your desire hasn't yet come to you??

"But revising someone back alive is A BIG THING"

It's a big thing only if you say it's a big thing. "Revising anyone back to life is a piece of cake to me" Say this affirmation repeatedly even though YOU don't feel it/see any changes in your 3d. Affirm back against the "3d" If it "shows" You the complete opposite of what you wanted. If it triggers you, fuck that. It doesn't exist.

Things/people in this world exist only because you let them. THEY ARE EXISTING IN FRONT OF YOU, BECAUSE👏🏻YOU👏🏻ARE👏🏻ALLOWING 👏🏻THEM👏🏻TO👏🏻.

YOUR DESIRES ARE ALREADY THERE. YOU DO NOT NEED TO WORRY FOR ANYTHING. YOU ARE PRECIOUS. YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO GET SPOILED BY EVERY LITTLE THING YOU EVER WANTED. DON'T TAKE NO AS AN ANSWER. IT'S ALWAYS YES. YES YOUR DAD IS ALIVE! YES YOUR INCOME IS DOUBLED! YES WHATEVER YOU WANTED IS ALREADY THERE.

Why do you "expect" It to happen??? IT IS ALREADY DONE!!

I don't want to convey it as rude. It's just my reminder to you that,

You already have whatever you ever wanted. If you don't like what you are seeing, affirm, be still within, AND DON'T CHANGE YOURSELVES FOR ANYTHING! IT IS ALREADY DONE. DO NOT WORRY FOR ANYTHING! YOU ARE AN ANGEL! YOU ALREADY GOT WHAT YOU WANTED!!

With lots of love,

ADILYNN YURI🤍🌷

[maximumkillshot]

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Warnings: There are a lot with this one and it hits close to home. Mentions of S/A. The R word is used, sobbing, anxiety and mental episode. mentions of self harm, mentions victim blaming and slut shaming. MDNI. There is fluff spattered around.

Pairing: BangChanxReader

Characters: Bang Chan, Reader, mention of the person who S/A, people Slut Shaming and Victim Blaming. 

A/N:  Okay so this one is heavy. The things you are about to read have happened to me. I had a mental episode a while back. I wrote most of this during said episode. This is what I think Chan would do for his S/O if they went through and go through what I did. This blog has always been a safe space. I use my fictions to entertain as well as a platform to have safe conversations. If you need me as always I will hang around after drop.

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ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

“YN?” Your husband called out to you. You couldn't hear him from the pressure of today. It created a seething pool of frustration and anger as you kneeled at the foot of the bed, wanting to pray, but now that you think about it the pain of being on the floor was a sweet torture in and of itself. 

Usually, anger like this wouldn't be a problem for you. You would go down to the basement and punch granite with your poorly taped hands, yes you were only a kid then, not knowing how else to get the anger out only stopping when you'd hear a crunch. Yes, that was the start of negative coping mechanisms, and yes you are trying to either bury that anger or let it consume you fast before Chris gets home. He's dealt with enough, we don't need to add on to it.  

Now you're no longer a child… as a matter of fact, you are now an adult, an adult with a hairpin trigger vaguely yet expertly disguised as comedic sarcasm. Depression that you don't remember not having… maybe when you were 8? You weren't sure. Not to mention a cast made of a myriad of physical and mental health issues…. Disabilities… and the cast of characters just keep growing! You have the medicine and the “coping techniques”, they called it, for success! Even those fail. 

Trying to talk it out just made you more angry, the injustice looking more and more ludicrous by the second. Okay, let's try breathing. Yeah no. That didn't work either, it just gave your brain more oxygen, so your brain went from quantum computer speed to Sonic the fucking Hedgehog. Oh… ok oh oh! Let's try soundboarding. You know, talk to people, not yourself. That ended in yet another game of useless catch phrases like “calm down” and “you shouldn't be thinking of that.” 

TELL ME SOMETHING I DON'T FUCKING KNOW THANK YOU! Oh, and I almost forgot the “Your method of thought isn't changing because you don't want to change '' DO YOU THINK I AM POKED ALL DAY AND SAY TO MYSELF…

‘OH I WANT TO FEEL MORE LIKE SHIT… I KNOW LET ME RUN MY FACE INTO A BRICK WALL OF ANXIETY REPEATEDLY UNTIL I CAN'T CONTROL MYSELF ANYMORE.’

You reverted to hurting the people around you due to your anger and frustration, plus you darkened the mood, you've always been a multitasker. My friends were right. I'm depressing, I was only kept around because of my ex. That was before they kicked me out… because they didn't want to believe he assaulted me. You go back to that night often… 

“I didn’t want to do that, I felt icky” You told him after he came back from cleaning himself up in the bathroom, while you were left to clean the traces of himself from your own mouth. No aftercare, no thought about you. The ghost of a boy who used you, who was an on and off friend of almost 10 years…

“I know.” he answered with no emotion.

“Then… why?” You asked, your head cocked to the side.

“Because I really wanted it.” He puts his hand on your shoulder, “But I’m sorry you feel that way. Shit now I feel bad.”

Then it switched to those friends, on another night… “ I just don’t buy it. That DID NOT HAPPEN, I know him better than you.”

“I mean you did it anyway so you must’ve wanted it.”

You tried to explain that you were assaulted, it’s called coercive consent and it’s the most common form of assault. You were raped. You didn’t want to do it and he knew that but you wanted to make him happy. You tried to explain, to educate. They weren’t having it.This conversation at times whirls in your head. Making you itch to pull a trigger, do something to make the torture stop.

“You always overreact and you’re so annoying why don’t you just go the fuck away!”

“You’re so depressing just fucking go away! We only tolerated you because you are his girlfriend, just go the fuck away!” The intent in her voice. The reality. You trusted her most out of the entire group. She helped you emotionally… Now shaming you, blaming you.

Her boyfriend rendered you speachless when you called it what it was, it was rape via coercive consent:

“Oh I get the kind of person you are, you’re the type of person who gets felt up in the middle of the night by their significant other because they’re trying to get laid and you call it rape.”

You know the right method to take now, right… Yeah you do.

Isolate… process… torture yourself…cry… alone. Contain the monster, so it doesn't hurt anyone else… You're just a monster parading as a human. Don't forget it. This happens when you forget Y/N… stop being reckless. Always so fucking reckless… 

You started clenching your hands one over the other, wanting to rake the top of your hands until they bled, trying to ground yourself. Until subconsciously, you did. You rocked as you did it, trying to soothe yourself.

Sometimes you swear people don't see you drowning right in front of their fucking eyes. You know how to swim, you know how to get out, to scream, punch, fight. You want to swim, you really do. But you can only do so much in a rip current. The lifeguard sees you. But instead of helping they yell “PADDLE! JUST PADDLE YOU'LL BE FINE!” It's a different level of patronization. It just makes you want to let the tides swallow you. Because why fight when the waters are so warm?

“Y/N?!” Chris yelled as he saw your bag tossed haphazardly on the couch, never where you put it. He stopped and listened carefully. He thought back to the last text you sent him. “Shit hit the fan at work …I don't want to feel right now. I'll see you at home.” 

That middle sentence made his heart stop. He knows you… something was up. He tried texting you back, sending words of encouragement, calling, and leaving cute messages when you didn't pick up, and nothing was heard from you. As soon as he could get away from schedules he did. When he looked at the clock you had sent that message three hours beforehand, he never raced home faster. 

He knows what your mind does to you. He sees the battles every day. When he’d compliment you and you would look down, not shy, but contradictory. When he’d pick you up you would freeze and he’d remind you that you aren’t too heavy, that he loves you in every single way that you think is impossible to love you. He’d always encourage you to wear what you want, do what you want. He would caress every single curve, never being able to keep his hands off of you. Whispering into your ear in public as he tilts your head up gently after asking for permission. He’d kiss you so delicately in front of a sea of people. On the red carpet, on stage, it didn’t matter. You were and are his person, and he loved showing you off. He couldn’t win the war in your mind for you, but he damn sure would fight those battles with you.

He would fight away those negative thoughts, he’d wrap his arms around you and sing to you to will those images, the anxiety and fear away. Until those thoughts were rendered useless. He’d wrestle with them for control, as soon as he won your mind back he gave it to you. He reminded you that you are here with him for a reason. He adores you, and nothing would change that. 

It was something he promised you when he saw you breakdown while doing your medicines. You told him that you were ashamed of it all. All the illnesses, that you weren’t perfect and that you’d understand if he didn’t want you. He looked at you and helped with your medicines, learned about each of them, and their dosages. He was so gentle, smiling at you, wiping your tears. He looked at all the medicines and said, anything that keeps you alive is nothing to be ashamed of. You aren’t something to be ashamed of. He knows that sometimes you can’t hear him until he’s right in your ear. Now looked like that case.

You couldn't hear him calling out to you, your mind too loud, too vicious, bloodthirsty. When pain and self-deprecation are your main moods, all others seem like an abnormal concept. Something that is stolen, was it even real in the first place? You know one thing that was real… Chris. You hated being this… the medications, the constant fires in your mind, the barrage of hate aimed at yourself, of unbridled strength turned inward to rip yourself apart for no reason other than things piling up. He didn't deserve that. He deserves peace, the best… just like what he demands of himself, perfection. 

You got through the gauntlet at your job. People undermining your authority, people on a power trip of their own. Sending others to try to intimidate, embarrass you into submission… as if you weren't a bloodthirsty wolf that could snap any second, biting their heads clean off. “An Alpha through and through,” that's what Chris would say, “Even Alphas have to bite their tongue, Love.” 

That made you cry more because at this point you don't even know if your tongue is still existent, or if you swallowed the damn thing after you bit it off. Or worse… you still have it… but you lost your voice. You know that can't be it, we're too fucking stubborn for that.

But the hits didn't stop coming, traffic happened, then going to the doctor who said that the physical therapy you needed would eat into your personal time, your time to write, to cook for Channie and the boys, to spend time with Channie and the boys.. then you forgot the doctors note so you had to walk back in for it. Then you had to go home while you tried to talk about everything… and well now here we are. 

Even now you try to problem solve, try to nitpick at yourself, the person he loves so much. You collapsed more on the floor of your shared bedroom, cross-legged thinking of the ocean, the violent, dangerous, tumultuous ocean… something simultaneously so beautiful and scary. You want to say you are like an ocean, but you don't see beauty in yourself, only a beast. That's all we'll ever be.

Chris freezes in the hallway hearing a sob break loose from you. He hadn't heard a sob like that before, it chilled his core. How does he approach this? He sees the doctor's note thrown next to your purse… He was happy you were approved for physical therapy, you really were in a lot of pain daily from the muscle and tendon weakness, but he looked at the times…

He looked to the hallway, “Oh…Baby Girl.” He had one piece of the puzzle. He knew you loved to cook for him and the boys but this schedule meant you couldn't do that for the foreseeable future. You enjoyed seeing the boys eating, and staying fueled, knowing without that they'd opt for less healthy options. Then he saw the paper right under it. A typed log… a leger of interactions throughout your day… “No…” 

Right there, in black and white, was what you went through today, everything down to the sarcastic smirk your coworker had as you were barraged with pressure to break the rules… and you didn't break. He never would've expected you to. You are the strongest person he knows. Even under these conditions, Chris himself would break. In front of fifty plus people being berated, pushed to do something you knew you couldn’t do. 

Right at the end of it was a line, written in plain ink by hand. “Vacation not given as described by supervisor. No week off.” With tear stains smudging the ink. 

Chris started walking down the hall to the shared bedroom. As he walked closer he heard you mumbling as you sobbed. Things like “stop crying” and “it's nothing.” But one made him freeze right before he opened the door, “Chris is going to worry. You already take too much from him, get it together so he won't worry. It’ll hurt him. Stop hurting the people you love. You’re a monster.”

That made his eyes sting, you were worried about him above all else. He slowly opened the door and you couldn't find it in you to look up. You knew who it was. The aura you know and love, like salve on the holes you ripped into yourself. The small steps were only weighed down by his sneakers as he slowly spoke. 

“Hey…Baby Girl?” The tone was even more soothing. We don't deserve that. “Can you look at me please?” You just shook your head. Too embarrassed at the shambling mess you are. The real you that you hide. 

Before you knew it you saw two big hands undoing the laces on his sneakers, shortly after he toed them off. Slowly he sat in front of you groaning “Oooooookay criss-cross applesauce it is…” making you smirk as you wiped your nose with the inside of the collar of your shirt. Finally, as he settled he said “aaaaaughh” with a big puff of air… 

You just tucked your head into your chest as you hid as much as you could. He waited for a few minutes, until he said, “We can address what happened in a few minutes. But you need to know. You don't take from me.” 

Your tears kept falling as you listened, his tone calming the raging currents in your mind.

He looked at the engagement and wedding band on your left hand. He watched the tears fall, he saw the holes in you. He wanted to lunge at you, take that emotional knife away from you, smother you in affection. Hold you, his heart burned for it. Needle and thread ready to patch you up. To heal you.

 He spoke softly, “You are my everything, Y/N. You aren't a burden, a disappointment, you aren't a chore, the only thing you took from me was my heart, but you had that before I even heard your voice. The second I saw you… I gave it to you. I don't want it back either.” 

You hiccuped breaths as you listened. He scooted a little closer and he put his hands out, palm up into your vision… asking for your hands. That was when you realized you were scratching at them again. 

You unfurled them from one another, hissing where one nail was slightly deeper, the tiny droplet of blood following soon after.

He looked at your hands, humming in the back of his throat, “One second.” He didn’t want to show it, but he was worried. You feel so much and he just wants to be there to hold you, to love you. 

Then popped up and left. He came back with a first aid kit, “Oooooookay heeaarr we goar again... criss-cross.” That made you giggle the tiniest bit. Chris always loved to hear your laugh. Your laugh is infectious and it always never fails to brighten his day. He knew he was making progress.

You couldn't see it but Chris was smirking at your tiny cute form. And hearing that little giggle made him want to channel Changbin and squeal at the cuteness overload. 

“Okay my Koala Bear… hands.” When you both had started dating, he noticed you always hung on to him. You explained that he was warm and you were always frozen, especially in the colder months. You asked if it was okay for you to hold on to him like that. Internally he was trying his best not to giggle like a school boy at the prospect of you holding on to him like this naturally. He looked at you and said, “It’s no problem, you just remind me of a Koala Bear, so cute and tiny. Can I call you that? My Koala Bear?” And you nodded blushing. Since then, you’ve been his Koala Bear. 

You presented your hands to him wincing at the stretch of the new scratches and he said “So tiny… so cute. Okay tiny sting” he cleaned the bigger scratch and put a bandage on it, and checked the rest. Once he deemed it all good to have your hands back. He kissed them then returned them to your lap. “Thank you for letting me clean them.” 

You nodded and hummed. The voices slowed down. They always slowed down around him. He always was your safe place. Like home base in a baseball game. If you made it there, you’re safe. You’re home. That thought made you sad, surprisingly. How are you safe with only one person? You should have security in yourself not in someone else. Your brain was waiting to start assaulting you again. 

“Is it loud in there?” Chris asked. You've told him about all of this before, this is the first time he's seen it this bad though. The voices, memories attack you. You explained to him that sometimes your brain will do this, you try to hold it back but sometimes it just can’t be helped.

“Mhmm”

“People don't help… right?”

“mhmm”

“Can you tell me what's going on in there?”

You told him. Some.. not all. You also told him about that pesky intrusive thought about your ex and your friends. 

His body went rigid as he said, “No… they're the ones that are wrong, not you. Your ex…” He wanted to choose his words carefully. He knew that you blame yourself at times. The memory of you explaining why you were hesitant to go further when you were dating. He assured you there was no pressure. That he loved you for you, the rage boiled in him and it still does because you were never at fault for this. Especially when you trusted that asshole enough to experiment with him. He was going to be your first for everything but after what he did. The trust was gone, rightfully so.

Chris continued, “He took advantage of you, and coerced you into consent, that is not love. That is not okay? That is sexual assault. The way that your friends acted was disgusting, the way he acted was sub-human… You are not depressing, you are one of the most beautiful, talented, funny, caring, loving people I have…” his voice gave out and he cleared his throat, “You are one of the most amazing people I've ever met in my life. I love you so much and I know you feel like you're a burden on me but being with you has been the most amazing thing I've ever experienced.”

He tilted your head up and you let him, he had tears in his eyes as he said, “You have never been nor will you ever be a monster.” Your tears picked up as you looked into his eyes. You could tell, Chris doesn’t lie. He’ll tell you the truth. His tears started falling as you leaned forward, reaching for him, needing contact. When you saw him you needed his warmth, you need him to heal you. You were losing hope, faith, everything as you watched the holes in you. Seeing him holding the needle and thread. By holding you, being with you, just being himself, it heals you. You whimpered, “Need you…” As your tears switched from self-hate to desperation… you needed him and he could tell. 

He untangled his legs and scooped you up, cradling you in his arms as he rocked you petting your hair back, “You are my inspiration, my eternal love, you are the best part of my past, my present, and my future. You are the future mother to my children, the woman I'm going to grow old with, my forever and always. You are my Y/N, and I am never going to let you forget who you are and why I love you, okay?” He started crying, shielding you in his chest, protecting you. Stitching you together as you heard his heartbeat. You cried on him, relieved that you were with him.

You pulled back from him nodding. He tried to kiss your lips but you said “I'm all snotty” and he giggled. Leave it to you to be worried about snotty kisses. You looked so adorable, cheeks and nose red, nose running, tears stopping, the twinkle coming back into your eyes as he looked at you. 

“Are you denying me my snotty kisses?” He giggled as he said “Okay fine. There's no snot on your forehead” he pecked your forehead, “none on your cheeks”, and laid another peck, this pattern continued for any expanse of skin he could get his lips on as you giggled at him and his barrage of affection. When he stopped he wiped your nose with his sleeve and he kissed you gently on the lips. He savored moments like this, being able to heal you, to pick you up. He looked into your eyes as he said, “now I am thinking I’ll draw up a bath for us and I’ll give you a nice massage. After that we order take away, from your favorite place, then we watch something, Hm?” He looked at you for an answer as he kept wiping tears.

You nodded and gently, he placed you back where you were and went to get the bath ready. You'll always have hard days, but those days turn into amazing nights with Chris. Your home.

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

LIKE MY WRITING? WANT MORE? Tell me so! Want in on the tags?? Shoot me an ask and consider it done!

[ughgoaway]

19 with Matty as like a comfort thing 🥺

Maybe girlie is feeling a little insecure that day

love this!! I answered this prompt earlier as a teacher au thing, but I liked the idea of girlie being insecure so I wrote it again but a little diff! hope you enjoy :)

19- character A holding character B’s hands as character B eats them out, fingers intertwined.

18+ pls!! includes female receiving oral and body insecurity/general insecurity. 1.4k-ish

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

You pull at your skin in the mirror, the reflection staring back at you wasn't one you recognised. Your eyes look sunken and tired, and your skin is dull when it used to be full of life.

You could stand for hours critiquing every inch of you, what part of you is too small, too big, too harsh or too soft. And you did. After every shower, you stood in front of the mirror, assessing every inch of yourself.

Matty hated it. of course, he did. You were perfect in his eyes, beyond perfect. but he couldn't stop you.

It happened like clockwork every few weeks. However, today, it seemed especially bad. The usual 10-minute assessment dragged on, becoming longer and longer with every tug and prod. He could almost hear your inner voice screaming about how you're not good enough for him and that he deserved better.

Eventually, you came to bed. Flopping on the mattress and immediately trying to burrow yourself under the blanket. but before you can, Matty grips the blanket and pulls it from your hands, forcing you to flip over and face him.

“I know what you're doing,” he says bluntly, eyeing you suspiciously.

“M’okay. I'm just tired. Long week.” you say softly, throwing matty a half-hearted smile.

You're lying. You both know that for a fact, but you pray that just this once Matty lets it go.

He doesn't, of course.

“Baby, I can see right through you. Standing in the mirror for half an hour and mumbling to yourself angrily doesn't exactly scream “im okay”” he pouts teasingly at you, and you can't help but giggle at his pufferfish face (a term you coined for that exact look early on in your relationship)

You sigh heavily before answering, “Yeah, im just - I don't even know. Feeling shitty I guess. Ugly, insecure, unloveable. You know, all the usual Friday night emotions” You try to lighten the mood with a joke, but everyone who knows you knows you joking is a sign something is really bothering you.

“You are none of those things, my love. Let me prove it to you, yeah?” Matty asks, moving to hover over your body.

You can already feel an ache between your thighs at the sight of your boyfriend above you, but you still can't shake how you're feeling.

“You don't have to, matty. I know I don't look great right now. Don't feel pressured or anything, I'm sure I'll just sleep it off.” 

“Never feel pressured with you, I just want to show you how beautiful you are to me, will you let me?” Matty looks down at you with soft eyes, and you can't pretend you don't want him between your legs for a second longer, giving him an assured nod.

“Gotta use your words for me, baby,” Matty lightly demands, dropping his mouth to your neck and pressing kisses to your skin.

“Mmm yes. Make me feel good, please,” you beg, gasping as Matty nips your neck playfully, soothing each patch of skin with his tongue.

“Thats my girl. Gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart.” Matty whispers in your ear, pulling back with a Cheshire-cat-like grin that has you blushing.

You try to turn away from him, the weight of his eye contact feeling like too much. But Matty places a hand on your jaw, dragging your face back to his and connecting your eyes once more.

Matty holds eye contact as he drops between your thighs, peppering them with kisses and hushed compliments as he moves to where you need him most. His fingers fall between your legs, parting your thighs and spreading you open for him.

“so pretty” he whispers, pressing a chaste kiss to your clit that rips a gasp from your chest. you can already feel your nerves thrumming with desire.

“Please Matty just- I can't take any teasing, please,” you beg, closing your eyes and trying to catch your breath.

“Anything you want, princess, take my hand, yeah?” Matty’s hand moves from between your legs up to grab your own, lightly gripping your hand to ground you and remind you that he wants you. He wants to make you feel good.

You smile softly down at him, looking into his eyes and memorising the exact way he looks right now, to live in your head for as long as it can.

With his hand in yours, he starts mouthing your cunt, moaning and licking your slick like he's devouring a sweet peach, juices running down his chin as he consumes you.

He’s practically making out with your cunt, burrowing himself between your legs and doing everything he can to make you feel good. Every few minutes you can feel a mumbled complement vibrate against you.

“Tastes so good angel.”

“So beautiful for me.”

“Good girl.”

Every vibration of his words against you pulls you closer to the edge. You can feel your skin growing pinker as matty continues between your thighs, a thin sheen of sweat covering your body. Matty is grinding against the mattress below him at the sight of you, but you're too lost in the haze to notice anything right now.

You roll your hips needily against Matty's face, and he immediately understands your silent pleading, moving faster against you and making the fire inside you grow even brighter.

Matty flicks his eyes up to you as he works his mouth over you, slick covering his cheeks as slips a finger inside you, smirking at the broken moan that falls from your lips. Every time his nose brushes your clit you feel a bolt of lightning strike you, your pulse quickens with every touch.

the tension in your gut is growing, and you squeeze mattys hand to warn him, whimpering “close” as best you can between the needy moans and whines.

Matty pulls away briefly, “Cum whenever you need to princess, so good for me.” As soon as he finishes he's diving back between your thighs with a new fervour, fucking you with his tongue and purposefully using his nose to stimulate your clit.

The mix of his tongue and his finger burrowed inside you is dizzying. The air is thickening around you with each passing second, and the only noises filling the room are a mix of your lewd groans and the sticky noises of matty worshipping you.

The neverending streams of compliments and his unrelenting pace against you soon push you to breaking point, coming undone with a whimpered “thank you” and shaking thighs.

Your legs grip around mattys head like a vice, keeping him buried between your legs. And he honestly couldn't be happier with that arrangement, squeezing your hand as you cum to remind you why he's doing this, to remind you how absolutely obsessed he is with every part of you.

Eventually, your legs loosen as the aftershocks stop rattling through your body. The goosebumps over your skin begin to fade, and you start falling back to earth.

Matty quickly moves from between your legs, hovering over you before leaning forward and desperately kissing you, pressing his tongue into your mouth so you can taste yourself. You groan at the taste, moving your hands to grip Matty's hair, grabbing his curls and pulling him closer against you.

You only break apart when your need for oxygen demands it, Matty panting above you with an overjoyed smile on his face. You smirk back at him, planning to repay him in the best way you know how.

But as you move your hand to grip his boxers, you feel the distinct lack of a boner and the presence of a damp spot sitting on the front of them. Your eyes flick down and study the dark grey patch on his underwear. You scrunch your face in confusion for a few seconds until it dawns on you.

He came. Untouched. Just from eating you out.

Matty sees the realisation on your face and groans, dropping down and burrowing his face in your neck. You can feel his cheeks growing hot as you giggle at his reaction, matty brings his mouth up to your cheek, pressing a kiss to it before he speaks.

“You're just really hot when you cum, im kind of obsessed with it. and you.” he whispers, pulling back to look at you with a cheesy grin. His eyes trace over your face, memorising every aspect of how you look.

Even if one day you become a stranger, if this all ends, he wants to remember exactly how you look right now.

He wants to remember the flush on your cheeks, the way the tip of your nose scrunches when you giggle, and the distinct glow of love in your eyes. 

“Love you,” you whisper, leaning forward until you are a few centimetres from Matty's lips.

“I love you too” he whispers back, surging forward and catching your lips in a kiss he hopes conveys every bit of love that his words couldn't.

[barcalover86]

Wsg love your post!!!

It would make my day if u wrote of post the reader is Pedri’s little sister but she’s dating Gavi. One day Pedri was playing FIFA with his friends on call, reader comes in his room pissed off bc she’s on her period. When Reader is on her period she’s very very bratty and mean, Pedri knew that so the minute that he Rolodex this he asked her if she was on her period,and she was so mad and left bc he ate all of her snacks. When Gavi asked Pedri if it was true that u we’re on ur period he bought readers favourite snacks and went to go cuddle with her and it’s just full of fluffff

Thank you!

Period problems - Pablo Gavi

2nd Masterlist

"What do you want, y/n!? You are getting on my nerves now!" Pedri said to you after 10 minutes of walking around the kitchen trying to find something for you to eat.

Your period came earlier and some big cramps were keeping you awake.

It was pretty late now, but your brother, Pedri, was playing FIFA in the living room with his footballer friends.

"Don't you have your own business to look out for?"

"Since you are distracting me of winning this game, I can tell you whatever I want."

You rolled his eyes. You wanted to tell him so bad that he was going to lose anyway, but you remained silent, knowing that your boyfriend, Gavi, was also there playing in his team.

"What are you even looking for?" he said annoyed after another 5 minutes of you walking around.

"Something to eat."

"This late?"

You were really annoyed this time.

"Yes, this late. I'm hungry, do you have a problem with it?"

"Yes, I do. Go grab yourself something and leave! You're making too much noise!"

"Well, if I had something, I would take it and go to my room. Don't you think I want to be alone too!? I just don't find my snacks.." you said the last part as a whisper, but Pedri heard you.

"What snacks?"

"Those that I bought yesterday."

"Oh, those snacks," he said chuckling.

"Do you know where they are?"

"In my tummy" Pedri said while laughing.

"What did you say?"

"I'm sorry, I was hung-"

"I bought them!!! You had to ask me if you wanted to eat those! Now I don't have anything and I'm hungry!"

"C'mon, there's not a big deal, y/n. Now, can you leave? I want to continue the game and all of us are waiting for you to get done with all those.. moody things of yours.. so that we can finish this stupid match!"

"Pedri, hermano, don't shout at her!"

Pedri heard Gavi talking, but decided to ignore him.

"Not a big deal!? Seriously!? Of course it is not if you ate MY food!" you started to get really mad and tears were forming in your eyes.

"For real? Now you are crying? What now? Are you on your period?"

"Yes, I am! You are such a bad brother. You don't even know how it feels. I don't want to see you ever again!" you said before going to your room, sad, angry, hungry and with bad cramps.

Pedri rolled his eyes, but he felt bad for shouting at you, knowing that period was a serious subject and you were in pain.

"Is she on her period, Pedri?"

"Yes, Gavi. She is"

"Why did you yell at her like that!?"

"I didn't know, don't you think I'm sorry too?"

"I'm going to but those snacks for her now." he said before hanging up and going to some store.

It took him a lot of time to find one that was still open and after that he ran to your house.

Pedri thanked him for coming after Gavi started to give him some lessons about his behaviour towards his sister.

When you heard someone knocking at your door, you were sure it was your brother so you didn't respond, pretending to be asleep. The door eventually open and it revealed you your boyfriend with a bag in his hands.

"Hi.." he said quietly and sweetly, putting his hand on one of your legs.

"Pablo.."

He smiled at you and kissed your forehead. You opened the lights and you hugged him, being really emotional.

"Oh, sweet girl"

You wanted to ask him so many questions, but he promised to tell you everything tomorrow morning and that he will stau with you this night.

When he gave you the bag and you saw all your favorite foods and some pads, you were on he edge of tears.

"Thank youu."

"De nada, amorcito."

After you ate until you were full, he cuddled you, making sure you were save and comfortable.

Your cramps were bad, but being close to Gavi made you forget about them, only thinking about his lips and body. You were really horny this period of the month and Gavi knew that, but promised you that he will give you a nice time after you finish it.

Now, his lips on your neck and lips were enough for you.

"Can you tell me a story, please?" you asked him.

"I don't know a story,cariño."

"Anything..please"

He eventually gave up and took his phone out to read you something. After a short time, you were already asleep in his arms, while he was looking at you sweetly, kissing your forehead time to time.

"Te quiero, y/n"

2nd Masterlist

I hope you like this and I'm sorry for the wait!

[kumasakka]

I am here to request any toothrotting fluff headcanons for reader and Tsuna for my emotional recovery from faceless (I didn’t realize you did requests)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ! ❞

⋆.˚ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. s.tsunayoshi x reader .

⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. general dating headcanon with our underrated favorite maincharacter, sawada tsunayoshi <3

⋆.˚ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. ~0.65k .

⋆.˚ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. fluff. literally toothrotting fluff. f!reader. spoiler - free. safe for minors! crappy writing ( when was the last time I wrote? ). puppy love. tsunayoshi differs from the actual tsuna, so he may seem ooc. I'm sorry I tried.

decent grades, decent looks, good reputation, normal life — you're just another normal student who unfortunately attends to his school. And Tsuna is absolutely no fan of ruining your good, little life. yet he failed miserably to hide you from the world ( reborn ), because the greatest hitman of all time ( reborn named himself like that ) found out about tsuna's little crush and tested you if you're fit to be the donna of Vongola.

skip this part cuz we're talking about fluffy headcanon, but we needed to make sure y'all know how you two met ( through reborn, it's clear).

Sawada Tsunayoshi is SO shy, that's a given. And he is also shy at the start of your relationship. He will not make the first moves, because he always doubts himself, so please don't only drop hints that you want to hold his hand, cuddle etc. you definitely should take action girly pop. That is, if you're willing to take the lead for him.

You're his safe haven from all the chaos he has to go through. If you catch him falling asleep on the train or at school, you would scoot closer so his head will fall on top of your shoulder. Not to mention if you find him sleeping, the exhaustion is literally plastered on his face, so the urge to lay down beside him on his bed takes over you and you give in, laying beside him and caressing his face or wrapping your arms around him.

Oh once when you were visiting and had to go to the toilet, you caught him sleeping. This won't happen again if he wakes up to you sleeping next to him ( he's dying because of embarrassment ).

Whenever you both are out and there is a big crowd, he would automatically reach out for your hand so you wouldn't get separated and lost. Just so you know, this already happend to him lots of times and he doesn't want you to experience the same very often.

He is your listener number one. Even though he isn't really good at comforting, his company still makes you feel warm and fuzzy. You can yap about everything and anything, he will listen. If you have worries, tell him. You will feel better, promise. But don't be mad at him for forgetting one thing or two, since he's trying to remember lots of things you said or mentioned.

I also think he has many pictures of you on his flip phone, you're the only thing he photographs. And you're most likely his background — it's a wobbly picture I know, but once again, he's trying to only take good photos of you because you're in his eyes the epitome of beauty!

9 out of 10 dates fail, probably because of his bad luck or clumsiness, but he's happy you make the best of it and that you both still have so much fun. It is easy for him to just pay you a visit, sit in your room and talk. Having a nice little talk about life and everything else. It's the type of date you don't need to spend money. It's just you, him and the night.

Tsuna feels so weirdly comfortable and safe around you. Like, how do you turn the atmosphere into a light one?  You're funny enough to make him hold his stomach before he dies. He's literally on the floor with tears in his eyes. Please stop with those horrendous jokes—

You know what's actually so sweet? You can always see how his eyes light up at the sight of you, even if it's just a picture or even if you just get mentioned. The only thought of you fills him with indescribable happiness.

By the way, Reborn has too many pictures of you. ( pls, tsuna looks diabolically funny on those pics while you're the definiton of heaven )

The couple you two are I SWEAR TO GOD. Perfect, chef's kiss.

© 2024 kumasakka — do not plagiarize , copy , modify , translate our work !

a/n's note — sorry for the late headcanons, I still hope you enjoyed !!

[thirtysomethingloser92]

Ok, hi! I absolutely ADORE and LOVE all of your writing, and I know you're not going to continue Green Eyed World, but I just wanted to know what you had planned for the ending so my anxious ass can finally rest in peace. Would Remy leave his universe to be with the reader? Would they live together happily ever-after or would it be bittersweet? I'm just so curious and I know you're the only person who can answer that ^^'. Anyways, I hope you're doing well <3

Okay so! I’m gonna give you my favourite bits that I wrote for the last few chapters.

Keep in mind none of this has been edited ❤️

Chapter 10:

Remyknocks gently on your door, the familiar sound a small comfort. “Hey,” he calls out when

you open it. “I brought you that sandwich I promised you. Thought you might be hungry after everything.”

You smile, a touch of your usual banter returning despite the emotional toll of the day. “You actually made it? I’m impressed.”

Remy chuckles, stepping inside and holding out the sandwich. “Well, I figured it was the least I could do. Plus, I didn’t want you accusing me of forgetting again.”

You take the sandwich gratefully and start to unwrap it. As you both settle into a light-hearted conversation, the mood lightens. The joking and laughter momentarily distract you from the Heaviness you’ve been feeling.

Eventually, the banter dies down, and a more serious tone fills the room. You take a deep breath, feeling a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. “Remy, can I ask you a favor?”

He looks at you with genuine concern. “Anything. What’s up?”

You hesitate, struggling to find the right words. “After today... I need to feel something real. Something safe. I know this might sound strange, but... could you stay with me tonight?”

Remy’s expression softens as he processes your request. He closes the door behind him and moves towards the chair by your desk, pulling off his boots. “Sure,” he says, his voice reassuring.

“Just give me a sec.”

He slips into bed beside you, pulling the covers back and settling in behind you. For a moment, he just holds you, hesitating as if searching for the right words.

Finally, he wraps his arms around you, his warmth and presence a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. “You did amazing today,” he whispers, his voice low and sincere. “I’m so proud of you.”

You close your eyes, letting his embrace envelop you. The comfort of his touch, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and his soft words provide a sense of security you desperately need.

You shift closer, seeking solace in his arms, letting go of the day’s stresses as you drift into a more peaceful state.

In the quiet of the night, you find a semblance of peace, knowing that despite everything, you’re

not alone.

As you lie there wrapped in Remy's embrace, a profound realization begins to settle over you.

Amidst the chaos, the uncertainty, and the emotional turmoil of the past few days, one thing stands out with absolute clarity. In the midst of all the confusion, there’s an undeniable truth: your love for him is real.

The gentle rise and fall of his chest against your back, the warmth of his arms, and the sincerity in his voice when he whispered how proud he was—these things ground you. They remind you that amidst everything else, this feeling you have for him is genuine and unwavering.

You let the sensation of his closeness wash over you, appreciating the tangible reality of his presence. It’s a stark contrast to the abstract challenges you’re facing. As you nestle deeper into his embrace, you hold onto this truth, letting it be a beacon of stability in the ever-shifting landscape of your life.

With each breath, you reaffirm this feeling, understanding that no matter what happens, this love is a constant, something solid and real. It becomes a source of strength, something to hold onto when everything else feels uncertain. In the quiet of the night, you allow yourself to fully embrace this truth, finding comfort and solace in the knowledge that this love, at least, is something real in a world full of chaos.

As you lie in Remy's arms, the weight of the day's events begins to lift, and a deep sense of calm washes over you. Gently, you reach for his hand, which rests across your stomach, and bring it up to your mouth. You press a soft, tender kiss to the back of his hand, letting it linger for a moment before holding it against your chest.

Remy's hand is warm against your skin, a comforting presence that soothes your racing thoughts. You feel him respond with a lazy, affectionate kiss to the back of your head, his arms tightening around you in a protective embrace.

The simple gesture, the closeness, and the warmth create a cocoon of safety that you haven’t felt in a long time. As you drift into a peaceful sleep, the first you've experienced since the chaos with Thanos, you hold onto the tranquility of the moment. Remy’s presence, the gentle pressure of his hand, and the steady rhythm of his breathing provide a sense of security and comfort.

In this serene embrace, you finally let go of the stress and fear that have been your constant companions, finding solace in the knowledge that, at least for tonight, you’re not alone.

The night drifts on peacefully, each breath you take syncing with Remy's, your bodies nestled together as if they were made to fit just so. The usual barrage of thoughts and anxieties that plague your mind every night is mercifully quiet, replaced by the steady beat of his heart against your back.

You stir slightly, still half-asleep, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest. In the darkness, his presence feels even more profound, like an anchor grounding you to something real, something tangible in a world that often feels like it's slipping through your fingers. Your hand still grips his, pressed to your chest, as if holding on to this moment could make it last forever.

Remy shifts behind you, and you feel his breath warm against your neck as he whispers your name, so softly you’re not sure if you heard it or if it was a dream. You can tell he's still awake, his hold on you tightening just a bit, as if he needs the reassurance that you're really there with him, just as much as you need it from him.

"Y' know," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with sleep, "you ain’t gotta do any of this alone."

His words are gentle, filled with an understanding that cuts through the night, touching something deep within you.

You don’t reply, partly because you’re too tired, and partly because you know he’s right. Instead, you just press yourself closer to him, letting the silence speak for you. Remy’s hand moves from r chest to rest protectively around your waist, and you let yourself sink further into his embrace, feeling more at peace than you have in years. As the minutes stretch into hours, sleep pulls you both deeper into its embrace. The world outside fades into the background, leaving just the two of you, wrapped up in a moment that feels both fleeting and eternal.

Chapter 11:

You stood on the battlefield, the students gathered behind you, ready to fight at a moment's notice. The X-Men stood on guard, a formidable wall of defense, with Remy right by your side.

His presence was more than comforting; it was the only thing grounding you in this moment of uncertainty.

Before you, Kang stood alone. His purple jacket flowed with the wind, hands clasped behind his back, a serene and confident smile playing on his lips.

"I thought he would’ve brought an army," Logan growled, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the solitary figure.

You didn’t break your gaze from Kang, your voice hardening with disgust. "Kang doesn't need an army," you replied, bitterness seeping into your tone. "He has me. It’s always been me."

Beside you, Remy reached out and took your hand, his fingers interlocking with yours. The warmth of his touch contrasted with the cold dread creeping up your spine. When you turned to meet his gaze, his eyes were intense, filled with emotions that words could never convey in such a fleeting moment. His love, his fear, his desperation—all of it was there in the way he looked at you.

"I know," you murmured, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, though the words were as much for you as they were for him.

You reluctantly let go, stepping forward to meet Kang in the middle of the field. His smile widened, pleased at your approach. "I didn’t expect such a large welcoming," he remarked, his tone casual, almost mocking. Though he appeared unassuming, you knew better than to underestimate him. You could feel his power, a dark force that seemed to resonate with something deep within you.

"They’re ready to blast you off this field," you said, your voice steady despite the storm inside you.

Kang spread his arms wide, inviting the challenge. "Let them," he replied smoothly, pausing as he studied you. "But you won’t."

"What do you want?" you demanded quietly, the words laced with suspicion. "It's been you, hasn't it? Those dreams I've been having... you've been planting them."

Kang shook his head slightly, a knowing smile on his lips. "They’re not dreams. They’re memories. Your memories. Of a future you haven’t yet lived."

A frown creased your brow. "How can they be memories when there’s only one of me?"

He wagged a finger at you, teasingly cryptic. "Yes, this is true. But some things must remain close to my chest," he whispered, stepping closer until his face was inches from yours. "Those memories happen. I lay waste to every single person in this school. Every child, every mutant, every human." His gaze drifted over your shoulder, settling on Remy with a dark, deliberate intent. "Your boyfriend will be the last to go. That one, I'll make you watch. Unless..."

He took a step back, giving you a choice. "You come with me."

Your refusal was instant. "No."

Kang smiled, almost as if he expected your answer. "I don’t expect an answer right now. But I’ll be back. This time tomorrow, I’ll be back to get you."

"You sound convinced that I’ll come," you said, your voice firm despite the unease gnawing at you.

"Twenty-four hours is all I need for you to make up your mind," he said, his smile never faltering.

"And you will come."

Chapter 12:

The room was warm, the faint scent of your body wash lingering in the air as you sat on the edge of your bed, one leg propped up on a chair, your fingers working lotion into your skin. Your hair was still damp from the shower, and you were dressed in a pair of comfortable sports shorts and one of Remy’s shirts that hung loosely on you. The fabric carried his scent, wrapping you in a sense of comfort even as your thoughts swirled with everything that had happened earlier.

The door creaked open, and Remy stepped inside. He looked tense, his brow furrowed, and you could see the worry etched into every line of his face. His grey jumper clung to his frame, making him look both effortlessly casual and heartbreakingly handsome. You could tell from the set of his jaw that he was ready to argue, and you braced yourself for what was coming.

"You can't go with him," Remy started, his voice low but insistent. "We’ll fight this, together. You don’t have to—"

You cut him off with a small smile, looking up from your task. "You look really good in that," you said, nodding toward his jumper.

For a moment, he looked taken aback, as if your response was the last thing he expected. His eyes flickered with confusion before they softened, but the tension in his shoulders didn’t ease.

You went back to moisturizing your legs, the simple act grounding you in the midst of the chaos swirling around you both.

"Don’t do this," he continued, his tone pleading now. "You’re talkin’ like you’re already gone. We can fight him, chérie. Together. We’ve fought worse."

You paused, your hands stilling as you considered his words. Then, without looking up, you spoke, your voice calm, almost serene. "I love you," you said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Really, I do. I’ve been wanting to tell you for so long, but there always seems to be chaos. It never feels like the right time."

You closed the lid of the lotion container and leaned back in your chair, your gaze finally lifting to meet his. "This just proves there never is a good time, doesn’t it?" you added with a soft, almost bittersweet smile.

For a moment, Remy just stared at you, the words hanging in the air between you. He seemed stunned, as if he didn’t quite know how to process what you’d just said. Then, slowly, he crouched down in front of you, his hands resting on your thighs. His thumbs began to trace gentle circles into your skin, the warmth of his touch soothing yet filled with an undercurrent of desperation.

"Why now?" he asked quietly, his voice laced with a sadness that tugged at your heart. "Why tell me now when you’re thinkin’ ‘bout goin’? Don’t do this to me, chère. Don’t make me watch you walk away."

You reached out, brushing a hand through his hair, your fingers lingering on his cheek. "Because I don’t want to regret not telling you," you admitted, your voice softening as you looked into his eyes. "I’ve been afraid, Remy. Afraid of what this all means, of what could happen. But I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I don’t want to leave without you knowing how much you mean to me."

His eyes shimmered with emotion as he leaned into your touch, his breath catching in his throat. "I’ve known, chérie," he murmured, his voice thick. "I’ve always known. But you ain’t leavin’. I ain’t lettin’ you go. We’ll figure this out, just stay with me."

You could see the raw vulnerability in his gaze, the way he was holding on to hope, to you, with everything he had. It broke something inside you, seeing him like this, and yet it made you love him even more.

"I want to stay," you whispered, your thumb brushing over his lips. "But I have to do what’s right. And right now, what’s right feels impossible."

He shook his head, his grip on your thighs tightening as if he could physically hold you here, keep you safe by sheer will alone. "There’s always a way," he insisted, his voice trembling slightly. "We’ve always found a way before, and we’ll find one now. Please, chérie. I can’t lose you."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away, leaning down to press your forehead against his. "You won’t lose me," you promised, though you knew the words might be hollow. "I’ll come back to you, I swear."

Remy closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he tried to believe you, tried to hold on to the sliver of hope that your words offered. His hands slid up to your waist, pulling you closer as if he could fuse you to him, keep you anchored in this moment.

"I love you too," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "So much it scares me."

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him as tightly as he held you. In that embrace, time seemed to stand still, the looming threat of tomorrow momentarily forgotten in the warmth of his arms.

But even as you held each other, the weight of what was to come lingered, a shadow that neither of you could fully shake.

Remy’s hands remained on your thighs, his thumbs still gently tracing circles as he held your gaze, searching for something in your eyes. His voice was soft, almost fragile, as he asked, "Do you remember what you told me that night in the cabin? When Wade, Logan, and Vanessa were there, and I was beggin’ you to leave… do you remember what you said?"

You felt your throat tighten, the memory of that night flooding back with vivid clarity. The desperation in his voice, the way he had pleaded with you to walk away, to save yourself from the chaos that surrounded you both. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you nodded slowly, the words tumbling out of you in a whisper, "In every universe, I’ll find you."

His breath hitched, and before you could say anything more, Remy surged forward, capturing your lips in a deep, desperate kiss. It was filled with all the emotions he couldn’t put into words—fear, love, longing, and the overwhelming need to hold on to you, to keep you with him.

You returned the kiss just as fervently, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as if that could somehow make the world outside disappear. His lips moved against yours, speaking a silent plea, a desperate attempt to make you stay, to make you see that he couldn’t bear to lose you.

"Please," he murmured against your lips, his voice trembling with emotion. "Please don’t leave me. I can’t… I can’t do this without you."

Chapter 13:

Kangaroo control over you was absolute, but he underestimated the power of your will and the strength of your love for Remy. Even as you endured the trials he set before you, you remained determined to find a way to return to him. The hope that one day you would be reunited, that the love you shared would be a beacon through the darkness, was your guiding light.

Weeks turned into months as Kang tightened his grip on you, gradually molding you into the weapon he needed to prune timelines and eliminate events that didn't align with his grand vision. The sterile, emotionless halls of his stronghold became your world, the metallic coldness seeping into your bones as time wore on. You were no longer just you; you were a tool, a means to an end in Kang's relentless pursuit of power and control over the multiverse.

At first, you resisted with everything you had. Each time Kang commanded you to alter a timeline or erase a pivotal event, you would argue, plead, or defy him. You challenged him with questions—what right did he have to dictate the course of countless lives, to snuff out entire realities just because they didn’t fit his plans? Your defiance was met with cold indifference or, worse, twisted amusement. Kang would listen to your protests with a slight, condescending smile, as if your resistance was nothing more than a minor inconvenience, a fleeting rebellion that he knew he could crush.

And crush it he did.

Kang was patient, methodical. He knew that breaking you wouldn’t happen overnight, so he chipped away at your resolve, bit by bit. He exposed you to the horrors of unchecked timelines, showing you visions of chaotic futures where unchecked power led to devastation, where the worlds you once knew lay in ruins. He presented these visions as proof of his necessity, as if the atrocities he forced you to commit were somehow justified in the name of a greater good.

The first few times you were forced to prune a timeline, the guilt was unbearable. You would stand on the precipice of a world, staring at the people who lived there, the moments they cherished, and the futures they hoped for. You would see yourself in them—ordinary beings trying to find their place in the universe—and you would feel the weight of what you were about to do. Kang’s cold voice would echo in your mind, urging you to complete the task, to erase these lives as if they were nothing more than glitches in his grand design.

The act of pruning was excruciating, a deep violation of everything you once believed in. You would watch as entire timelines—whole realities full of people, hopes, dreams, and histories— were reduced to nothingness. The first time you pruned a timeline, you collapsed afterward, the enormity of what you had done crashing down on you like a tidal wave. You wept for those lives, for the universes that would never be, and for the person you once were, who would have fought to the death before allowing such an atrocity.

But Kang knew how to erode that person away

Chapter 14:

Remy’s voice, soft and laced with concern, pulls you back to the present. “You hungry? Thirsty? Anything you need?” His question is tentative, like he’s trying to find some way to make you comfortable again, to bring you back to this reality where you’re safe, home, and with the people who care about you.

You look at him, then at the rest of your friends standing around you, their eyes filled with a mixture of hope, worry, and love. You smile softly, trying to reassure them, even as your emotions churn inside you. “I just… I just need a minute,” you say, your voice steady but quiet.

Without waiting for a response, you turn on your heel and walk toward the living room. The familiar space feels both comforting and alien, filled with memories of a life you’ve been disconnected from for so long. You sink down onto the couch, your hands gripping the fabric as if anchoring yourself to something real, something that won’t slip away.

Logan appears in the doorway, his presence a steadying force. He doesn’t rush you, doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he just walks in and takes a seat beside you, giving you the space you need to gather your thoughts. The silence between you is comfortable, a reminder that you don’t always have to fill the void with words.

“It’s okay to take your time with all this,” Logan finally says, his voice low and rough, but gentle.

He looks at you, his expression understanding, patient. “Ain’t no rush to figure it all out. You’ve been through hell.”

You sigh, rubbing your hands together as if trying to warm them. “I don’t feel like I belong here anymore,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly. “Not after everything I’ve done. I don’t even know where to start.”

Logan watches you carefully, his eyes never leaving yours. He’s always been able to see through the bullshit, cutting straight to the heart of the matter. “You belong here, kid,” he says, his tone firm but not unkind. “You think you’re the only one carryin’ around guilt? You think we haven’t all done things we regret?”

You open your mouth to protest, but he holds up a hand, stopping you. “Let me finish,” he insists, his voice softening. “When you were gone, it messed Remy up. The first few months… hell, the first six months, he wouldn’t leave the house. He barely left your room. He was holdin’ on by a thread, waitin’ for you to come back.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, the weight of them sinking in as you picture Remy, alone, refusing to leave the space where he felt closest to you. “Then it changed,” Logan continues. “He started avoidin’ the house altogether, doin’ anything to keep busy, to keep his mind off the fact that you weren’t here. But even then… even when he started actin’ normal again, he still wasn’t the same. He was still missin’ you, every day.”

You bite your lip, the guilt gnawing at you. “But it’s not just him,” Logan adds. “Wade and Vanessa—they moved in here. Gave up their apartment. They didn’t want to leave him alone, didn’t want him to fall apart without you. They’ve all been waitin’ for you to come back, hopin’ for it. Those aren’t the actions of people who don’t have your back. They’re with you, through thick and thin, no matter what.”

You nod, swallowing hard as tears prick at your eyes. The weight of their love, their loyalty, presses down on you, making it harder to breathe. You’ve been so focused on your own guilt, your own pain, that you didn’t realize how much your absence affected them—how much they’ve been hurting too.

Logan leans back, his gaze still fixed on you. “Look, you’ve been through a lot. We all have. But that doesn’t mean you don’t belong here. This is your home. We’re your family. And if you’re feelin’ lost, we’ll help you find your way back. But you gotta let us in. Don’t push us away because you’re scared of what you’ve done. We’ve all got blood on our hands, but that doesn’t mean we don’t deserve a chance to make things right.”

You wipe at your eyes, nodding slowly. “I don’t know how to make it right, Logan,” you admit, your voice thick with emotion.

“We’ll figure it out together,” Logan says simply. “One step at a time. But don’t shut yourself off from us. You’re not alone anymore.”

His words sink in, and for the first time since you walked through that door, you feel a glimmer of hope, a tiny spark that maybe, just maybe, you can start to heal. You’ve been through hell, but you’ve also found your way back to the people who matter most. And they’re willing to stand by you, no matter what.

As you and Remy make your way down the hallway to your bedroom, the house feels strangely familiar yet different, like you’re seeing it through the eyes of a stranger. Everything seems both the same and completely new, as if you’ve been gone longer than just a year. The walls hold memories, echoes of conversations and laughter, but now they seem quieter, waiting for you to fill them with life again.

When you reach your bedroom door, Remy hesitates for a moment, glancing at you before opening it. The room is just as you remember it—your things exactly where you left them, your bed neatly made. But there’s something different about it now, something that makes your chest tighten with emotion.

“I’ve been sleeping here,” Remy says quietly, his voice breaking the silence. “But I’ll clean it up for you before tonight. I know you probably want some space.”

You look at him, seeing the weariness in his eyes, the weight of everything he’s been carrying since you left. He’s trying to give you the room you might need, to be respectful of whatever boundaries you might have now. But that’s not what you want. Not at all.

A small, genuine smile forms on your lips as you shake your head. “You don’t need to clean anything up, Remy. You can stay in here as long as you want.” Your words are soft, almost tentative, but the meaning behind them is clear. You’re asking him to stay with you, a silent plea that you hope he understands.

Remy’s eyes widen just a bit, a flicker of surprise passing through them before he nods, the corners of his mouth lifting in a gentle, almost relieved smile. He knows what you’re asking, and he’s not going to make you ask twice.

You move over to your wardrobe, intending to grab some clothes to change into. As you rummage through the hangers, your fingers brush against something soft and familiar. You pull it out and see your old SHIELD jumper, the one you haven’t worn in years. It brings a wave of nostalgia, memories of a time when things were simpler, when the world made a little more sense.

For a moment, you just stand there, holding the jumper in your hands, your mind racing with everything that’s happened since you last wore it. The pain, the loss, the unimaginable choices you had to make. But also the love, the connections that have brought you back here, to this very moment.

You close the wardrobe, holding the jumper close for a second before setting it aside with the clothes you’ve chosen. “I need a shower,” you say, your voice steady but laced with the weight of everything you’ve been through.

Remy watches you closely, his eyes filled with an intensity that makes your heart ache. He doesn’t move, just stands there, as if he’s trying to memorize this moment, trying to etch it into his memory.

“I’ve missed you,” he finally says, his voice low, almost reverent.

Those three simple words hit you harder than you expected, and for a moment, you feel the tears welling up again. You’ve missed him too—missed everything about him. The way he looks at you, the way he’s always there, quietly offering support and love without asking for anything in return.

You nod, swallowing hard as you meet his gaze. “I’ve missed you too, Remy,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but you know he hears it. He always hears you.

There’s a silence that stretches between you, filled with all the things that don’t need to be said.

You’re both here, you’re both alive, and that’s what matters. The rest—the healing, the rebuilding—will come in time.

Finally, you turn towards the bathroom, your hand brushing against his arm as you pass by him, a silent promise that you’ll be back, that you’re not going anywhere. As you close the door behind you, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, trying to steady yourself as you prepare to face the reality of everything that’s happened.

The water runs warm as you step into the shower, and for the first time in what feels like an eternity, you let yourself relax, if only for a few moments. The water washes away the grime, the tension, the pain, leaving you feeling a little lighter, a little more like yourself.

But even as you try to find peace in the simple act of washing away the past, you can’t help but think about Remy, just on the other side of the door. Waiting. Ready to pick up the pieces with you, no matter how broken they are.

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you can find your way back to each other. One step at a time.

Remy paces the hallway outside the bathroom, his fingers drumming anxiously against his thighs as he listens to the muffled sounds coming from behind the closed door. The running water of the shower mixes with the quiet sobs, a stark reminder of all that’s been lost and all that’s been endured. He wants nothing more than to burst in there, to hold you and offer whatever comfort he can. But he knows, deep down, that you need space right now. You’ll come to him when you’re ready.

Chapter 15:

The sun dips below the horizon, the first stars begin to twinkle in the sky. The moment is serene, filled with a sense of calm that you all have longed for.

As the sky deepens into twilight, the atmosphere on the balcony shifts to one of quiet reflection.

Remy finishes his cigarette, tossing the butt into the ashtray with a soft clink. He stretches out his legs, sitting closer to you and Vanessa, the warmth of his presence a comforting anchor.

Vanessa, always perceptive, reaches out and places a hand on your arm. “It’s good to see you smiling again,” she says, her voice gentle. “We’ve all missed you.”

You smile at her, grateful for her support. “I’ve missed you all too,” you admit, your voice soft but filled with sincerity. “And I appreciate you being here, through everything.”

Wade, ever the source of levity, interjects with a playful grin. “So, what’s next on the agenda? Do we get to pick out some new adventures, or are we just going to sit around and enjoy the view?”

Logan chuckles, shaking his head. “Maybe we’ll just focus on making sure this place stays as peaceful as it is now,” he suggests, his tone a mix of practicality and hope.

The conversation drifts to lighter topics, the camaraderie between you all easing the lingering tension. As you listen to the banter, you feel a renewed sense of belonging. The feeling of home, once so elusive, now wraps around you like a warm embrace.

Remy leans over and takes your hand, his fingers entwining with yours. “How about we just take it one day at a time?” he proposes, his gaze steady and filled with love. “I’ve got you back, and that’s what matters right now.” You nod, squeezing his hand gently.

“That sounds perfect.”

The evening stretches on, filled with laughter, stories, and the simple joy of being together. As the stars fully emerge and the night settles in, you feel a deep sense of contentment. The battles of the past seem a little lighter, the uncertainties of the future a little less daunting.

You roll your eyes, but there’s a warm smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, and FYI. Next time you fuck up my morning and ask me to take a random trip to the void to pull out some friends, I’ll kill you.”

Wade’s grin widens as he lounges casually, his hands behind his head. “To be fair, I think I’ve earned some brownie points for convincing you to rescue th he man who becomes the love of your life. You’re welcome.”

Remy chuckles beside you, his hand still intertwined with yours. “Yeah, Wade, you’re definitely on thin ice, but I’ll give you this—without you, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

Logan nods in agreement, a rare smile on his face. “Just don’t make it a habit, Wade. We’ve had enough chaos for a while.”

Wade’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “Hey, it’s all part of the grand adventure, right? Besides, it worked out, didn’t it?”

The group laughs, the tension of past events melting away under the shared camaraderie. As the ht deepens, the sense of togetherness strengthens, and you can’t help but feel a deep appreciation for the people who’ve stood by you through it all

[itsscromp]

Hi! Can you write a MWIII story where reader is Farah’s sibling who is part of 141, and dies instead of soap, and the team having to tell farah and grieve together? Maybe with flashbacks from their friendship with each of the team and farah?

They were the best of us

The family will help her with this, she's not alone. Warnings: Angst and canon typical violence. Word count:961

Farah had high hopes for you when you were off to join Price and Gaz when he formed Task Force 141 after Barkov. She knew you would be doing amazing things with them.

"Promise me you'll try and write to me as much as you can ??" Like the worried sister that she is.

"I promise sister, I promise" You hugged her tightly before boarding the plane to join 141.

While she knew that what you were doing was potentially even more dangerous than being a freedom fighter, what she didn't come to expect was the emotional impact of your death...

When disarming the bomb, Makarov seemed to have broken out of his restraints and got his hands on a gun, Attempting to shoot Johnny square in the head. But you pushed him out of the way and took the bullet...

"Threat neutralised... One KIA" Price said as he saw your body lying limp on the ground. Simon rushed to you, while he didn't show emotion, his heavy breathing seeing you was enough to tell.

Farah didn't receive the news until late into the night when she was busy planning for the next day when she got a call from Alex.

"Alex, what a surprise, everything ok ??" She smiled as she wrote down on her notepad.

"Farah... There's been an incident involving y/n... They... They were KIA" She could hear the shakiness in his voice.

She froze as she heard KIA... no... Please no. The phone slowly slipped out of her hand and she started to shake and fall to the floor. Silently starting to sob. Her sibling was dead...

It was hard for the first few days, She was trying so hard to digest the news as best as she could... Her mind wandering to happy memories to help numb the pain.

"8...9...10 !!! Ready or not hear I come sister" You were about 6 years old and Farah only 4, Playing hide and seek at a nearby park. She managed to squeeze herself in between a brick wall, A perfect hiding place. You had a very hard time finding her until you heard a small giggle coming from the wall. Sneaking over you then gently as you could pulled her out. "I found you Farah" You smiled.

Those memories she'll treasure, But it didn't help with what she had lost, Alex had invited her to be with the 141 as they were also grieving hard from your loss too. She knew she shouldn't wallow alone... So she accepted.

She was quiet for most of the time on the plane to them, When she landed on the Tarmac and saw Price... She started to tear up as he took off his hat in respect and opened his arms for her. She hugged him tightly as she started to sniffle. "I'm so sorry Farah... I'm so sorry"

"I wish it wasn't like this..." She sniffled

"Me neither... Farah, Please know your not alone with this ok ??" He gently cupped her cheeks.

She nodded, to which price pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Price decided to organise a bonfire night, Y/n loved bonfire nights with the others. It was their favourite pass time when a mission was finished. Always joking around with the others by the warmth of the fire.

Farah stared into the fire as Price began to set it up, Feeling the warmth of it as he then sat back down. "I know it's been tough... For all of us... But i do hope this will help you a little bit ok ??"

"Ok..."

The others soon joined in, Gaz and Price trying to fill the silence with small talk, But Farah didn't want to do this... Until Johnny decided to bring up something.

"What was you guy's favourite memory of y/n ??" He asked everyone as he looked around.

They were all quiet for a little bit, indicating Johnny to go first.

"I remember when they would always try to get us all together for movie nights, take the edge off... I always look forward to them..."

"They were always into the superhero movies" Farah chuckled lightly.

"Yeah... I'll miss that..."

"I remember the day when I made Y/n the best person at my wedding" Gaz spoke up shortly after. "They were the best encouragement when I started to get nervous. Not to mention they were a great dancer when we were at the reception"

"They do know how to pull in a crowd" Price softly smiled.

It went quiet again, the only noise being the fire crackling as the wood began to burn.

Price soon speaks up "I always loved our hikes, It was a nice getaway from everything, Just the two of us. Not to mention whenever they had a problem they would come to me... Showing how much they trusted me..." He sniffled as the memories resurfaced.

Ghost was the quietest for the whole night, He had too many memories to pick. He couldn't pick a memory about you...

Farah spoke up "I remember when I played hide and seek with them back at home when we were younger... I always found a very good hiding spot. In that moment it made me forget about the horror that was going on... it felt like... We were just kids being kids..." She started to tear up. Price wrapped his arm around her and rubbed her forearm.

It remained quiet again until Ghost finally spoke up... "I showed them my face the first time cause of them..." In terms that meant how much ghost trusted y/n, How much you meant to him.

Farah knew how much of an impact you had on all of them, You would be missed deeply, But your legacy... Never forgotten.

Taglist: @callofdudes

[sillysillygoofygoose]

Musician Dilf Miguel O'hara x Reader HCs

MDNI!! (Large age gape, thinking of making a nsfw part two!!) I have not been able to get this out of my head 😩 I have so much to say, so let's begin! He's very soft in this one <3

Musician Dilf Miguel, who started his career MUCH later than others in the industry. After years of sorting out a very messy divorce, he realized that even though he's just broken the barrier between 39 and 40, he has too much life left to live it unhappily. He began writing songs, poems, and relearning the guitar.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who got a small gig on Friday nights, singing at a cafe you work at. You can't help but become entranced by the older man, distracted every Friday while attempting to pay off at least a bit of your student debt.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who despite his strong build and serious demeanor, sings melancholic and slow songs. He strums away at a mahogany acoustic guitar, his voice singing softly into the shoddy microphone, smooth like honey. His cheeks are flushed slightly from the strong heating in the small perimeters of the cafe. He pours out his most painful and private emotions, thick fingers creating a delicate melody under his meaningful lyrics.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who begins keeping you company every week while you close up the shop. You caught his eye just as quickly as he caught yours. Sometimes, it feels like he's singing to you. He can't help it, once his eyes meet yours, he just can't break it. The two of you quickly click, making conversation as you wipe down the counters. Miguel always insists on helping, and you always insist on saying no.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who you started seeing romantically a couple of months after his first gig. He's never met someone that makes him feel the way you do (not even his ex-wife 😬). One Tuesday evening, just before closing, you hear a small bell as the door opens. You huff, rolling your eyes at the person who ignored the CLOSED sign displayed in the window, "I'm sorry, we're 10 minutes from closing-" As you turn to look at the unwanted customer, your eyes quickly light up as you see an almost shy Miguel, hiding half of his blushing face with a huge bouquet of deep red flowers, his prominent cheeks matching the tint. You walk over to him, wiping your busy hands on the apron tied around your hips. "What's all this for?" You ask as he extends his strong arms pushing the flowers to your chest. "Dinner?" Was the only thing he could mutter out. It's hard to believe this is the same man who pours his heart out on stage.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who you encouraged to quit his dead-end office job after being offered a contract. He spent months hopping around different bars and cafes taking advantage of open mic nights. He's not the type to take risks though. The thought of a music career flopping after quitting his steady job made him sick to his stomach. You were the one to push him to follow his dreams. "Do what you think will make your heart happy. I'll be here no matter what happens."

No one has ever said that to him before.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who quickly BLOWS UP. He released his debut album after signing with a label, unsure if it was the right move. However, his doubts were soon soothed after he grew a massive fan base. You tease him after his debut album sold a whopping 3 million copies, telling him you knew he could do it.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who can't stand anything that has to do with publicity, but damn is he good at it. Advertisements, photoshoots, interviews, you name it, he's incredible. Miguel is as charming as ever in interviews, making viewers at home swoon and rush to stream his latest song. Although he hates to admit it, he was born for this.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who writes most of his songs about you. Despite the millions of fan-girls, or the pretty celebrities he's surrounded by at events, the only girl he has eyes for is you. A love song he wrote for your 1 year anniversary became one of his most popular, charting almost immediately. Comments ranged from melody lovers, to desperate, feral fan-girls.

"I need the tabs for the guitar part at 2:37"

"Use the like button as here before 50 million"

"Find yourself a man like this 🥺"

"I'm 68 years old this year. Haven't heard music like this in a long time. He must really love that girl... reminds me of my late wife 👍"

"He's such a dilf 😩😩I need this man RELIGIOUSLY. I want to wear his skin."

It's safe to say he's quite popular.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who loves to show you off, slinging his arm around your shoulder when he spots a paparazzi. You're favorite new pass time is looking at news articles, laughing at the ridiculous nature of them all.

"Who is y/n l/n? Everything we know about Miguel O'hara's girlfriend."

"Fourty three and twenty five: The hottest celebrity age gaps"

"New it-girl alert! Y/N L/N, Miguel O'hara's girlfriend shows off stylish new nail trend in latest Instagram post."

"Y/N L/N shows off legs in new poolside pics... Click here to see photos!"

"Watch: Miguel O'hara gushes over girlfriend in latest interview, 'She's my muse'."

"Since the beginning: The unlikely and adorable love story of Miguel O'hara and Y/N L/N"

The press loves your relationship (for the most part). Sometimes, the attention is overwhelming, but it's almost always entertaining. Miguel constantly reassures you that if anything upsets you, he can easily take care of it.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who loves when you attend his concerts, eyes searching for yours in the sea of devoted fans. He has to actively stop himself from staring at you throughout the entirety of the show.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who tightly holds your hand as the winner of Album of the Year is about to be announced. He couldn't even focus on his nerves for half the night, too busy thinking about how beautiful you looked in your custom Chanel dress, but now it's all sinking in.

"And the Grammy goes to... 'Un Amor Más Fuerte Que Los Diamantes', Miguel O'hara!"

As applause explodes throughout the room, it's muffled out by the pure adrenaline coursing through you veins. The two of you jump out of your chairs and immediately, Miguel's arms are wrapped around your waist, squeezing you tight. You hold him, quickly kissing him, before ushering him to get up on stage. His usual stoic expression is broken as he smiles bigger than ever. Miguel looks at you while making his speech, thanking you for believing in him and telling you that he loves you more than anything.

Musician Dilf Miguel, who took you engagement ring shopping the very next day.

Hope you enjoyed! Xoxo

[annawayne]

Annaaaaaaaaaaaaaa T^T I hope you're doing alright today! Did you bake anything new recently!

For the writer's ask btw: 1, 4, 5, 8, 12, 14, 15, 23, 27 :3

Do it, tell me all about it! And I hope you have a great week :3 Thank you for blessing us with all your beautiful art and love T^T

Moon, hello (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

Thank you a lot for asking, and OH MY, that's a lot, but don't get me wrong, I appreciate your interest a lot T^T

Let me first tell you about baking: I baked only the plum pie recently, and it's already gone... But I plan to bake pumpkin muffins with orange cream soon :3

As for the questions:

1 - the last sentence you wrote

I've already answered this one a bit earlier here, but as I got around to answer your question, here's another sentences that I actually wrote the last one:

"I wonder, why can’t we notice… until we’ve lost it already?"

👀

4 - a story idea you haven’t written yet

Oh, I have this one story idea in my mind, based on this one art...

Can't say much without spoilering , but this story has some angsty development. Like, very angsty.

Other than this, it's also a story about how AruAni met and fell in love, so some kind of strangers to lovers, with a lot of immediate attraction and interest, all set in Switzerland, 1911.

The caption in the original post - "It was the love at first sight" - is a leitmotif of this whole story.

I've been thinking about it while working on this drawing, and I didn't consider writing it, but the more time passes - the more I think that, eventually, I'll write it...

5 - first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP

Uhm... Well, I think, the chapter 10 of MYLYSW counts for now, yes? If yes, so here we are:

"How to breathe without feeling the burden of the mission to be fulfilled; how to sleep without all the images of the world through the eyes of others; how to say a word without feeling obliged to remember a promise to come back; how to look at the sun and see in it the beauty of another day borning out of the velvet darkness of the night into the golden sunrise, and not to cross out another twenty-four hours out of one hundred and thirteen thousand nine hundred fifty-five hours of defined expiration of her."

Me and my damn love for the long sentences...

8 - if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…

Oh, good question! I don't really have a lot of fics, but I think I would love to write for Neverland of (Our) Desires, the Fort Salta oneshot-sequel, where AruAni are caught in feelings and have an awkward-silly conversation about their boat *adventure*, with all these emotions and feelings of having the life ahead of them and not knowing what to do with it... Oh well, oh well, such a potential 🤌

12 - a trope you’re really into right now

Hm... Honestly, I've been into Forbidden Love or Star-crossed Lovers tropes recently...

It's quite canonical AruAni, to be honest, and I just love to think about it in different AUs and canon-compliant too, so yes, I would say these ones! And here a remark, that Forbidden Love/Star-crossed Lovers don't mean that it's a tragic ending - more like obstacles and a lot of angst, which challenge the characters and their love, and how it all develops within the plot.

14 - where do you get your inspiration?

You know, I thought I had a proper answer for it, but when I started typing it, I realized, that, in fact, I don't.

If I'm totally honest - I don't think I even have something special as "inspiration". I have ideas that pop up in my mind on their own, and then, I turn them into story or a moment in the fic, but I never particularly searched for it. I suppose, it's also a consequence of my constant art and literature involving, where I read/observe/study something, so I have this almost never-stopping source of new experience and knowledge, which leads to ideas and inspiration to create my own stories/drawings.

So, I think that my inspiration is constant studying and sources of knowledge.

15 - favorite weather for writing

Answered here :3

23 - pick three keywords that describe your writing

Moon, what a question *sigh*... Let's say:

evocative, raw and poetic

I thought of what to answer you on this particular question because it's a bit difficult for me to evaluate my own writing style, but I also remembered the words I received about it (including your wonderful feedback), and I guess, it helped me to pick these particular keywords.

27 - your favorite part of the writing process

Answered here, too :3

Thank you a lot for your interest and support, Moon, I wish you all the best and take care🖤

[rapha-reads]

IWTV rewatch

(still spoilers for both the whole show and the books)

Season 2 episode 1 [What Can The Damned Really Say to the Damned] - part 3/4

- [Daniel] "Memories just keep bubbling up." - oooh, the face Louis makes at that...

- [Louis] "'Claudia was... uh... She was dreaming. Her head twitching like you would.'" - ain't no need to take a shot at Danny boy now! He hasn't done anything (yet)...

[Daniel] "'Maybe you're just uh, frosting the pie?'

[Louis] 'No. I can feel her. I can feel her next to me. She's having a nightmare. What's worse than a nightmare? If your soul's projecting out its fears, at least it's up and running. But the absence of anything? The void. The nothing. Pieces... coming back. Hours, nights. Objects, surfacing in water. It was just something she wrote. But it wasn't true. She could dream. Thank you.'

[Daniel] 'If you wanna take that break...'

[Louis] 'No. No. I want this. To remember.'"

Can I scream about Jacob's phenomenal acting? This man. I have no words. The voice breaking. The hand waving. The vacant eyes. The tears (he cries so prettily). The accent emerging from the flat Dubai accent. What a masterclass. Also who else thinks that when Louis says he can feel her next to him, he's not just talking about past Claudia in the memory but also Ghostdia in present time?

This scene has everything:

1, it showcases once again Daniel's profound compassion, in the way he doesn't try to push Louis more now that Louis is finally doing the job of being honest on his own, in the way he's looking at Louis having a breakdown with concern and immense compassion... Yes, Daniel is a catty bitchy old queen, yeah, he's grumpy and cynic and an investigative journalist who latches on his subject and doesn't let up. But he's also profoundly human and full of sympathy and humanity, and that's what makes him such a darned good journalist - he touches at the heart of his interviewees.

2, it sort of closes the theme started in s1 of memory being a monster, to open up the second theme, memory being a blessing. S1 was about how Louis ran away so hard from the truth he had basically changed his recollection of things to not face up the real events and emotions, ultimately leading him to just shut down - something that is explored more in details in s2. S2 is about Louis finally facing up to his true memories and reconciliating not just with Lestat, not even only with the memory of Claudia - reminder that he carried with him for 77 years Claudia's diaries in which she writes how much she hated him - but also and maybe most importantly, owning up to his real memories allows him to reconcile with himself.

3, it fixes a hole in Louis' heart regarding Claudia and the end of their time together. As said above, Claudia writes in her diaries that she hates Louis maybe as much as Lestat. But she also wrote that she doesn't dream, when obviously Louis' recovered memories show that she does. So if what she writes that one time is a lie, "just something that she wrote", maybe she also lied, "just wrote", that she hated Louis? Even if we can't ever know for certain, even if this session starts with Louis and Daniel agreeing to believe what's written and nothing more (a decision that's almost immediately abandoned), for Louis, just holding on to that thought, is everything.

- And there goes another queen.... Rip Emilia, you were magnificent. +10 points and a bit of grace for Morgan speaking Romanian and trying his hardest to save Emilia. [Louis] "Human affairs. Death, and how to avoid it. Their problem. Ours was in the woods." - bravo, only took you 30 years to learn that lesson. Better late than never I guess. Lestat will be pleased. With that and with the hunting.

- Claudia's sassing Louis, Louis showing off his fangs... And the revenant being a full horror show. Yep, welcome to the Old Romania portion of the story.

[Louis] "'What. The. Hell is that?'

[Claudia] 'It's... A vampire.'

[Louis] 'No, I'm a vampire. That's a fucking catfish with teeth. It's dirty. It doesn't like us.'

[Claudia] 'Us, you, the same.'

[Louis] 'Not the same, not even close.'"

This show is a comedy.

- Do you think a vampire with a rifle is more or less dangerous than a vampire with just their fangs and claws...? Someone needs to make a poll.

- One queen exits (Emilia), another emerges (Daciana)... And what intensity. What pain. A motherless mother. [Louis] "An angry woman vampire. A mom." - the fact that Louis himself points that out, as if he's somehow recognising himself in her... The way he says "a mom", full of wonder and understanding. Because a parent is a parent and no matter the words used, he is Claudia's parent, and he spent years suffering his child's absence. He knows.

- [Louis] "Through the forest, as if a fairy tale." - hello, did you know that today's Fantasy literature, inherited from the Fantastique literature, comes directly from fairy tales and folktales? There's a direct pipeline between "Le Petit Poucet" (Little Thumbling, a fairy tale about a boy abandoned in the woods finding his way back home thanks to the trail of white stones he left behind) or "Hansel and Gretel" and the musical story of "Emilie Jolie", where a little girl all alone in her house follows the characters of her storybook into the pages of the book. A very French example, I know, I know, but I was looking for something that would reference being alone and lost in the woods, like Claudia and Louis here. In any case, what I meant to say is, go read amongst others Tolkien's essay "On Fairy Stories", Daniel Baker's essay "Why We Need Dragons: The Progressive Potential of Fantasy" (Journal of the Fantastic in the Arts, 2012), Carh Filmer-Davies' "On Fantasy Stories" (Mythlore, 2000) and Jack Zipes' "The Irresistible Fairy Tale: The Cultural and Social History of a Genre" (Princeton UP, 2012). I have a lot more bibliography but they're more related to what I wrote about in my thesis which is Beauty and the Beast, a fairy tale that woumd be fascinating to explore in relation to Lestat, so I'm going to stop here. Man, when can I go do my folklore PhD...?

- [Louis] "But even if we could get her to talk, what would she say? What, after all, can the damned really say to the damned?" - interesting, the way the book quote (see part 1) was inserted in the show narration... Really emphasises how lost and alone, metaphorically, Louis and Claudia are.

- Welp. I have to put the entire conversation between Louis, Claudia and Daciana. Every line is fascinating.

[Louis] "'We are from over the ocean.'

[Claudia] "Five years we've looked for you. We came to where vampires are spoken of, to find others like ourselves.'

[Daciana] 'We own the night. Yes?'

[Claudia, Louis, in English] 'Yes.'

[Daciana] 'Long centuries, into the villages, into their hovels, drinking, drinking, drinking. They don't want life anymore.'

[Claudia] 'Maybe it's the blood. [In English to Louis] Tell her about the blood.'

[Louis, in stammering Romanian] 'It's blood here... Can't... You...'

[Claudia] 'Say it in English.'

[Louis in English/Claudia in Romanian] 'The blood is bad here. The humans, there's too much sadness, too much pain. We feel it too when we drink. We can't get warm. Our bodies hurt. Maybe you need better blood.'

[Daciana] 'From over the ocean?'

[Claudia] 'America.'

[Daciana] 'Another one like a burnt tray of bread.'

[Claudia] 'How many of us are left? How about this one?'

[Daciana] 'Cezare Romulo. He was a droll one. Killed a travelling circus in Sibiu, everyone but the bear... but all those in darkness go into darkness.'

[Louis] 'What's she saying?'

[Claudia] 'Who's left?'

[Daciana] 'You killed my last out in the forest.'

[Louis] 'What's she saying?'

[Claudia] 'He was hurting us.'

[Daciana] 'All of them dead now. All gone. Like cream from the top of a milk bucket. So many nights to come on the devil's road, playing in their blood, oh, you will laugh and laugh...'

[Claudia] 'And you'll come with us? '

[Daciana] 'Yes. You will take me over the ocean with you. And I will grow strong again. And tell you my story. And you will tell me yours. And we will kill for the small comforts and wait for my children to join us... The wind in our hair and bare feet in the grass. Daciana.'

'Louis.' 'Claudia.'

[Daciana] 'We own... nothing.'"

Be right back, need to add Romanian to my Duolingo list.

What a scene. A scene that will stay with Louis forever, reminding him for decades to come of the immense strength and the immense fragility of the vampire. Of the power of the creature owning the night, and the fragility of the creature bending under the weight of inconmensurable, endless time. Lesson learned, again. "All those in darkness go into darkness".

I love that Daciana, this ancient, timeless vampire, remembers little pleasures of human life and uses them as a measure of good and bad things, burnt bread one tip of the scale, cream from the top of a milk bucket the other side. As if, at the end, what sustained her wasn't the blood anymore, but those long ago memories of when she was human. A loop, ended.

Louis being the one who understands the blood and can explain it, after all those years rejecting it. He truly is the most dangerous one.

From a very meta perspective, it's hilarious that they made the character played by the actor famously known for his languages and accents abilities the one who struggles with languages. Very on the nose, very funny.

Claudia's face, the pure joy and elation when Daciana talks about going with them. And then the crestfallen, resigned expression when she throws herself in the fire. Emphasises the youth of Claudia and Louis. They want someone to willingly and joyfully guide them and teach them, an adult adultier than them. And they can't find anyone. Lestat refused, bound by his promise to Marius, his control and abandonment issues, Daciana had enough of the devil's road, and when they meet Armand, he doesn't want to guide but to, again, control and dominate. You know who they should have found? Pandora. She would have taken them under her wing if she had met them independently from Lestat. Pandora would have been worth it. I want a fic where Pandora meets them while they're travelling through Europe and decides to mentor them.

season 1 masterpost

part 1 | part 2 | part 4

episode 2 | episode 3 | episode 4 | episode 5 | episode 6 | episode 7 | episode 8

[foxes-that-run]

Maroon

Maroon is looking back on her relationship with Harry in a linear way. It was the surprise song 26 May, 2023, the first show after 20 May.

'Red'...

Taylor wrote 10 of the final 30 Red TV tracks after Harry entered the chat in March. @taylor-on-your-dash has this Making of Red post which shows it was complete 4 months after they met, it's release was 7 months after 'The Very First Night'.

It is wild to me that people say Red can't be Haylor but 1989 was inspired by a '3 month relationship', yet Reputation is about Joe, who she started dating 5 months before it's release, Rep was mostly done by then. Rep's vault tracks will surprise some more than 1989's did!

All this is to say, we know Maroon is Haylor because it is not filled with All Too Well rage and the title references Red. The Lyric Video also includes a pink/maroon sunset, which similar to sunsets referenced in Cruel Summer, INTHAF and Slut!

Lyrics

When the morning came we were cleaning incense off your vinyl shelf 'Cause we lost track of time again Laughing with my feet in your lap Like you were my closest friend "How'd we end up on the floor anyway?" You say "Your roommate's cheap-ass screw-top rosé, that's how" I see you every day now

The first verse remembers the start

Harry's unreleased track, Hunger, is similar in meaning to Maroon. It opens with a similar line "Candles burned down to the floor." New Years Day also includes Candle wax on the hardwood floors.' Finally, Taylor included the incense in the lyric and music videos for Lavender Haze.

The first verse is very 1989 feeling, they sound young, hanging out and enjoying each others company. The room mate is most likely Ben Winston, he stayed with Ben while dating Taylor and renovating his current house. some of the This is Us Harry scenes were shot there.

And I chose you The one I was dancin' with In New York, no shoes Looked up at the sky and it was

Harry and Taylor danced with no shoes in New York after 1D's first Madison Square Garden performance 4 December 2012. Taylor is looking up to the sky in the photo of Harry lifting her.

Harry also mentioned barefeet in the leaked Trouble "And we could take this anywhere / Cause were we’re going / We don’t need no shoes" Trouble was leaked 20 April 22, 6 months before Midnights.

The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed your wine into me And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was The mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones The lips I used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon

This verse remembers a passionate fight, like the album Red Taylor described the emotions from that period as red, and later on Lover as Golden. The wine stained dress or shirt here is also in:

Olivia “This isn't the stain of a red wine, I'm bleeding love”

Clean “you're still all over me like a wine stained dress i can't wear anymore"

Blood rushing to cheeks is blushing, in Gold Rush Taylor also referenced this "I don't like anticipatin' my face in a red flush"

The mark on Taylors collarbone may be the possible hickey here, from the night before she left the Virgin isles.

Rust growing between telephones indicates they stopped calling, Harry also references this in From the Dining Table “Even my phone misses your call, by the way”

When the silence came, we were shaking blind and hazy How the hell did we lose sight of us again? Sobbin' with your head in your hands Ain't that the way shit always ends? You were standin' hollow-eyed in the hallway Carnations you had thought were roses, that's us I feel you no matter what The rubies that I gave up

This verse is the aftermath of the fight in the one before, with apology flowers, not talking and paying for it.

Harry cries with his head in his hands

Now that we don't talk and Afterglow "I lived like an island, punished you in silence" also refer to silence/not speaking

'The rubies I gave up' to me is treasure, rubies being the red theme. To me this is in the Pay for it' Haylor theme, however Taylor has referred to her friends as Junior Jewels in YBTM, she may have she lost friends in the break up.

Standin Hollow-eyed in the Hallway refers to the Hallway theme

The carnations not roses means they were plagued by things going wrong. Harry referenced the Carnations in the Satellite MV:

And I wake with your memory over me That's a real fucking legacy, legacy (it was maroon)x2

The outtro is after some time has passed, she wakes from an adult dream remembering her lost muse. Taylor and Harry have a surprising number of songs about this:

Wildest Dreams (Even if it's just in your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha (ha-ah, ha) / Wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha / You'll see me in hindsight / Tangled up with you all night

Ready for it...? In the middle of the night, in my dreams (my dreams) You should see the things we do (we do), baby (baby, mmm, eh)

Little Freak - "You bring blue lights to dreams" and "A wet dream just dangling"

Cruel Summer "Fever dream high in the quiet of the night / You know that I caught it"

[calaisreno]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

I was tagged by @7-percent, @totallysilvergirl and @gaylilsherlock. Thank you!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 

147. I’ve been here nearly 6 years, some years more prolific than others. 

2. What's your total A03 word count?

Right now, just shy of 2M: 1,937,496, to be exact

3. What fandoms do you write for?

BBC Sherlock and ACD Sherlock

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Synchronicity Date Night A Chronic Condition The Wedding Gift Blank Slate Wooing Sherlock Holmes has recently moved up and is close enough to nudge its way to number 5.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Always, even if it’s just to say thank you. I appreciate comments, often feel humbled by the compliments people give. It just feels right to respond. (Maybe if I were getting hundreds of comments a day, I would have to rethink that.)

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Either Below Zero or The New Gardener. Both have MCD, but sort of a soft landing. Also Learning the Heart and The Real You, but those also have endings that mitigate the angst, a bit.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I write a lot of happy endings; it’s my preferred resolution.  My choice: The Short Tragic Death of John Watson. John does NOT die, but there’s a very cheesy happy ending that made many readers scream.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No. A couple rude comments, but no intentional hatred.

9. Do you write smut?

Not much. I don’t write PWP, but include a sex scene where the plot seems to need it. I'm not opposed; it's just not my usual.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I’ve written two GO/Sherlock stories: Limbo and Hell and Back. I’ve written stories that borrow from other fandoms, but are not exactly crossovers. The closest to a crossover would be Serendipity, which borrows plot from the movie. I’ve borrowed from movie and book universes to make an original story (Eye of the Storm, A Chamber to be Haunted, Do No Harm), and I’ve borrowed premises (The Real You)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

About 60 of my fics have been translated, most of them into Russian, a couple into Chinese, on into Spanish. 

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. 

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Sherlock Holmes/John Watson

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The Secret of Agra: a post-Reichenbach fic that I started in 2020. It has been through several transformations. I rarely give up permanently on a story, though. A few have grown into something new that I ended up posting. I expect I'll finish this when inspiration strikes me.

16. What are your writing strengths?

The things readers most often compliment me on: 

Character voice and emotions.  

World building. 

Versatility: historical fiction, case fics, science fiction, fantasy, rom-coms, etc.

Making readers cry.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Action scenes. In Greek tragedy you simply have a character enter and describe the murder that’s just occurred offstage. In fanfiction, that’s a nope. And you have to think out every move, make the scene visual. I admire writers who make this seem effortless. (That's you, @discordantwords !!!) Description: finding non-cliche ways to describe things/people without making it weird and overly fussy.  Being too minimal: I am not a wordy writer; minimalism was how I was taught, but sometimes I need to be wordier.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I’ve done bits of this, but only in languages I’ve studied. I have a degree in Latin, and have used that in couple stories: A Demon's Tale, Accidental Magic. 

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The first and only fandom I’ve posted in is Sherlock Holmes (ACD and BBC). I don’t have any plans to move. I used to write original fiction, but have found fanfiction so much more rewarding.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

This is hard to answer. Last Envoy is the story I’m most proud of.  I write the stories I want to read, and I do re-read a number of them, some more than others. My favorite fic written in 2023 is The Traveller.

Has everybody been tagged? How about @mydogwatson @lisbeth-kk @discordantwords @copperplatebeech @keirgreeneyes @meetinginsamarra @bertytravelsfar @jrow @thegildedbee @helloliriels @gregorovitchworld ???

[oneforthemunny]

Please Please PLease

Rank your spanking works ;)

oh???? oh!!!!!!

you want me to chose absolute insanity today hm?? ok fine. i will try.

10. curiosity killed the cat - with mafia!eddie and reader (kitten... get it? get the title lmao). i really enjoyed this one, but i feel like it's one of the shorter pieces i did. very fun, shows their dynamic very well.

9. candy caned - a special christmas holiday smut special with dom!eddie. honestly, would be ranked higher but i'm a little jarred at this whole work. not bc of anyone other than myself, i just had big plans to do all 12 before christmas and got so busy i didn't get to. still loved it and it was so fun to me!

8. take as needed - a newer work and one i had been working on forever lol. i like the idea of the emotional release spanking with bouncer!eddie and bartender!reader. that it was something she asked for and he did. very intimate to me i loved it.

7. hard learning - honestly, one of my favorites and longest fics. dom!steddie x sub!reader is not something i usually write for but them??? i loved them. i wrote this while i was in school too, so it was very much so a self indulgent piece.

6. hold your horses - the first (??) cowboy!eddie fic???? and therefore it holds a special place in my heart forever. also self indulgent bc i am a speeder lol.

5. treat me rough - will forever be one of my faves. rockstar!eddie and nb!reader domesticated but yet still horny and kinky??? sorry, it will always be one of my faves. them slutty and fun is a weakness to me, but this??? together, established, in love, and still kinky and fun??

4. switching it up- all the switching talk maybe is why this one has been on my mind, but this was born from a horny hour with dom!eddie that was my renaissance on here. my roman empire. my peak, and this was the product of it <3

3. light my morning sky - another goodie from rockstar!eddie and nb. their (second) wedding night in vegas?? drunk and in love?? horny??? infatuated?? the heart shaped paddle as a wedding gift?? it's so sexy and silly and fun!

2. marish hysteria - by far my pride and joy as far as spanking fics, almost my number one. cowboy!eddie?? and it took so long to finish. i was so proud of it and i love every second of it, enjoyed writing every second of it.

car troubles- the reigning champ tho will always be this one with dom!eddie. from the same horny hours as before, but this one sparked the spanking rage on my page lol. genuinely, was so easy to write bc i feel like we all wrote it together??? i got so many asks, suggestions, my inbox was FULL!!! i love it, feels like a community piece and therefore is number one in my heart.