#i'm genuinely so bad at words whenever it comes to expressing my feelings or just feelings in general augh..

[r-aindr0p]

Aye new year is coming, and it has been my best so far on here as I got re invested in twst and just drawing and posting more here in general !

Wanted to say thank you to everyone here that stumbled on my mess of an account, and wether it was through comments, art or silly little tags, it made me smile and motivated to keep drawing ✨️

I rarely answer to comments or some fun reblog tags because I always end up tensing up and overthinking the answers (and never answering in the end) ;; but know that I always read everything !

A few resolutions/wishes I hope I'll achieve or at least make progress toward the end goal :

Get better at backgrounds and composition in art

Get better at storytelling

Less cowardly/better at communicating with others (it's a long way to go augh...)

Get better at drawing Rollo :))))

Try to not give up on self care after five days in

✨️Anyway, I wish you all a happy new year and a great start of 2025 ✨️

Here's one last Rollo for 2024, I'll get back to the remaining asks after new year !

[appocalipse]

that guy ⊹ steve harrington

summary: After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him… | 2.6k words

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The moment Steve steps through the glass doors of the diner, you wonder, for about the millionth time that month alone, what is it that you've done so wrong to deserve this kind of punishment.

It's Friday night, and on Friday nights, Steve Harrington goes on dates. It's just like clockwork, really: he meets a pretty girl, thinks she's the one, takes her out on a date, realizes quickly enough that she isn't quite what he was looking for, then comes here after having dropped her back home to sulk with you, in the diner that your family runs, still clad in the outfit he'd chosen especially for his failed date.

To be honest, he never looks sad, per se — more like disappointed. Frustrated, maybe.

You watch as he weaves around tables occupied by laughing friends, past booths filled with couples sharing desserts, then slides into a seat in front of you at the bar. Steve sits down with an exhausted sigh, ruffling up his hair before shooting you a tired smile.

"Hi."

You don't look up from where you're polishing the counter. "Bad date again?"

"Not even close. She talked about horses non-stop."

A quiet laugh slips past your lips despite yourself, and finally, you tear your gaze off the dark wooden surface of the counter to look up at him; he's got this pleased little smile on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly in the way they always do whenever he succeeds at making you laugh, even if just a little.

How are you supposed to keep acting like nothing's wrong when he looks at you like that?

You clear your throat awkwardly and make yourself busy stacking clean glasses next to the coffee machine.

"So...not the one, I take it?"

Steve leans forward against the counter and props his head up with his hand, sighing deeply.

"I'm starting to think she won't ever show up," he says quietly, running his other hand through his hair. You chance another glance at him and note how genuinely worried he looks. It breaks your heart almost as much as it annoys you. "What is it that's wrong with me, huh? I just don't get it."

"Nothing is wrong with you."

"You don't need to be nice to me. We've been friends since forever, remember?"

The word 'friends' makes you wince a little bit inside, but you hide the reaction behind a neutral frown. "Do you think there's something wrong with me? Because I haven't found the one yet either, you know."

Steve's expression softens as he looks at you, and once again you feel that horrible twinge in your stomach that you wish would just stop already.

"It's different. I mean—you're not actively trying to find someone." He reaches out to pull one of the half-melted mints out from the glass bowl on the counter and pops it into his mouth with a shrug. "I go out looking for her and she just doesn't come. If she even exists, that is."

"She does."

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I wouldn't hold my breath. God, why am I such an idiot, y'know?" Steve slumps over the counter with a groan, burying his face into his crossed arms. "My love life is a trainwreck."

"At least you have one."

He glances up at you curiously and lifts an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing. Forget it. Do you want some pie?"

You're not about to tell him what you've only admitted to yourself mere months ago — that you're actually hopelessly, madly, stupidly in love with him, and that you have been ever since the two of you were just dumb kids racing around your parents' diner.

What makes it even worse is that you had no idea your feelings went that deep until Steve started going on these dates of his again. Before then, everything was normal — you met up every weekend and binged on candy, watched bad movies on your couch, drove around town together blasting The Clash on his BMW's speakers...it was good.

Until it wasn't.

"Wait, c'mon, you can't just leave me hanging like that," Steve presses. He shifts a little on his stool to better face you, then gestures at you with his hands. "You've clearly got something you wanna say, so, like—hit me. Lay it on me."

"Nothing. I'm just saying...at least you're trying, you know," you say carefully, measuring each word before speaking them. "And at least you're the one doing the rejecting. Could be worse."

Steve's eyebrows rise high up on his forehead and he looks at you incredulously. "Whoa, wait—are you trying to tell me you've been rejected?"

You busy yourself by filling two tall glasses with soda, then slide one to his side of the counter and keep the other for yourself. "Uh...kind of, yeah. But it's fine."

"But who the hell would even do that?" he blurts out. There's anger in his voice all of a sudden, a defensive fire in his eyes that makes you feel as if someone has punched you in the gut. "To you? You're like, the nicest person on the planet, and super pretty to boot. That's just—that's crazy!"

Your heart gives a violent little jump in your chest. He thinks you're pretty. Steve Harrington thinks you're pretty.

Pretty as a friend, you correct yourself immediately, and sigh as you sip your drink. Of course, it's nothing more than that — just meaningless words spoken in a moment of unthinking kindness.

"Seriously, who?" he presses on. "Give me a name. I'll fight him."

"You mean like you fought Jonathan Byers?" you smile behind your glass, looking at him from over its rim.

Steve looks embarrassed at the memory and drops his gaze for a second or two before meeting your eyes again with a playful little smile of his own. "Different situation, okay, but that's not the point. So? Who's the guy?"

"You...don't know him," you hedge.

"It's Hawkins. I know the stray cats here by name."

"Fine, well, even if you did know him, it doesn't matter. He didn't reject me, exactly...not really."

Steve frowns a little. "Okay, you're gonna have to start making sense now. This is hurting my head."

The funny thing is, he actually looks confused, as if he can't possibly fathom the idea of someone rejecting you. It's sweet, really — way too sweet for your liking, especially when you know fully well he doesn't see you in the way you'd want him to.

You lower your gaze to avoid his and instead focus on drawing random shapes on the counter with your index finger, where tiny droplets of condensation from your glass have pooled up on the dark wood. "I mean, I never really told him how I felt. Not directly. It just…never happened."

"Oh. Well, then how do you even know if he feels the same way?" he asks you, looking rather doubtful.

You steal another glance at him and almost regret it instantly. His eyes are trained on your face, patient and attentive like you're the only thing worth watching in the world. It makes you feel horribly small and selfish and guilty, because after all, what right do you have to want him when he so clearly wants someone else?

You feel like you could cry. You might, if you don't distract yourself with something fast enough.

"I just know. Do you want some pie? I'll go get you some pie."

Without waiting for a response, you rush off to the kitchen even though there's plenty of pies sitting on the display counter at the bar, and you make a beeline straight for the back exit.

The alley behind the diner is blissfully empty as usual, just a lonely dumpster and a handful of sad-looking shrubs and weeds peeking out from under the concrete.

No, you aren't going to cry.

This is stupid.

You press your back against the rough brick wall of the diner and breathe in deep the warm night air, then exhale slowly as you count to ten in your head.

When the door opens behind you and the diner's familiar chatter and clatter of cutlery spill into the alley, you wince, mentally cursing yourself for being so goddamn weak. You should have known better.

You don't have to look up to know that it's him.

"Are you hiding from me?" Steve's voice comes, quiet and curious and maybe just a little bit hurt, even.

"I got...suddenly nauseous," you explain weakly, still refusing to look up and meet his eyes.

There's a long stretch of silence, and you feel Steve move closer to you until he's leaning against the wall by your side. You finally look up and find him smiling, this gentle, amused little thing that makes your traitorous heart skip a beat.

"You look just fine to me."

You stare up at the sky, head against the wall. "I thought I was gonna throw up."

He's still watching you, you can tell; you're keenly aware of his eyes on you, so much so that your skin prickles at the attention. "No, you didn't."

"No, I didn't," you admit with a sigh, and turn your head to finally look at him. He's got this little half-smile on his lips, the very same one you fell for years ago, and you curse yourself silently for never learning how to let him go. Really let him go.

"Hey. Listen. You don't have to tell me, okay?" Steve says gently, pushing himself off the wall to step closer to you. He brings his hand up to your face and tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear, letting his fingertips linger on the edge of your jaw for the briefest of moments, just long enough for you to wonder whether he knows what he's doing to you.

You don't dare to move. You're afraid of breaking whatever spell has seemingly come over him.

"I should've never asked. That was selfish."

"Forget it," you say.

He's standing close now, close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to be able to look up at him properly. There's a strange kind of tension in his eyes, something dark and unsure and tentative, and his gaze darts down to your lips just the slightest bit.

You're fairly sure you're just seeing what you want to see, your foolish heart playing tricks on you. But you panic nonetheless, feeling a sudden, irrational fear that if he moves any closer, he'll realize the truth — that you're a liar and a coward, that you've been harboring these feelings of yours for him for years.

"I should—I should go. Back inside," you mutter, pointing vaguely at the door with your thumb. "In there."

"Sure, yeah. Okay. In there," he echoes, not making a single move to leave. "Not out here."

"Yup. Exactly. In there."

"So you said."

"Yep."

The wall of the diner is digging into your spine uncomfortably, and your mouth is dry, and your knees feel weak, and your stomach is doing somersaults, and the longer he stares at you with those eyes of his the more you feel like you're burning from the inside out and—

He's not moving. All he does is look at you, really look at you, as if it's the first time he's really looked, as if he's seeing something that wasn't there before.

"Okay, so—"

You try to push past him towards the door, but Steve grabs your arm, making you stop dead in your tracks. He lets go as soon as you look up at him, lifting his hand in front of him in an apologetic gesture.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," he says. He swallows hard and rubs his palm on the front of his jeans, a nervous little habit you think he's always had. He runs his hand through his hair, mussing up the carefully gelled strands, and it's probably the first time you've ever seen him look so flustered.

He laughs nervously and gestures at the ground with his hands as he speaks. "Look, this is just—this is just crazy, okay, but I think I, uh, maybe sort of realized something."

You blink at him, not quite certain you're hearing him correctly.

"Realized what?" you ask, the words barely more than a whisper.

Steve clears his throat and nods at you, seemingly pleased that you've finally spoken. "Yeah, well, this is stupid, but you know how you're always telling me to listen to my gut?"

"You're not making a whole lot of sense right now, Steve."

"Just bear with me for a sec, okay? This is like, totally new to me." He holds his palms up, and you notice his hands are shaking a little. "I just need a minute, alright?"

He breathes in deep and exhales slowly, then shoots you an apologetic look.

"Sorry, this is just...really weird," he confesses. "Weirdly real."

"You're freaking me out," you tell him, but Steve only smiles at you.

"Maybe I should just show you. Because, I mean, what if I'm wrong? That'd be terrible, obviously."

"Steve."

"Yeah, I know, but hear me out, okay?" he says quickly, and takes another step closer. You stand your ground this time, if only because you don't trust yourself to actually move without your legs giving out. "So, look. Here's the thing. You're, like—you're one of the most important people in my life. You've been there for me when nobody else was, and I...you mean a lot to me."

"Steve—"

"Shut up, you're ruining the moment."

He takes another step forward until he's crowding you against the wall, hand coming to rest next to your head on the brick. He's close, so close that you can smell the scent of his cologne and shampoo and laundry detergent, and if you were to lean in even the slightest bit, your faces would bump.

Steve is a little out of breath, his lips parted ever so slightly. And he's still looking at you with that strange, searching expression of his.

"Is this okay?" he whispers.

"I don't—what?"

Your voice catches in your throat. There's no room for doubt in his eyes now, not even the tiniest, slightest sliver of uncertainty left.

"This," Steve murmurs.

He tilts his head to the side a little and leans in until you're sure your noses are touching, and you feel your eyes slip closed in anticipation.

"Is this okay?" he repeats in a whisper. "Please tell me I'm not crazy."

"I think I am."

His lips brush yours. It feels like an accident, doesn't last long enough to be anything but a dream. You can still taste the faint, sweet trace of sugar and mint on your tongue when he pulls away, though.

"Just to be clear," Steve whispers, his fingers brushing lightly over the skin of your neck, tracing invisible lines that make you shiver, "am I the guy from earlier? The one you like?"

You don't have it in you to deny it anymore.

"Yes. It's you."

A wide grin breaks out across his face, and suddenly he's everywhere; he cups your face in his hands, pressing eager, fervent kisses along the line of your jaw, trailing hot and open-mouthed down the side of your neck.

You giggle helplessly, grabbing Steve by his collar to pull him away from you and up to your eye level. He's breathing just as heavily as you are, his hair messy and his eyes bright.

"How do you do this to me, huh?" he pants, kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth. "You just—you just completely knock me out."

A pleasant little thrill rushes up your spine at that.

"Oh yeah?"

"Completely."

You kiss him this time.

[kix-mm]

Will their be part 3 of A once cruel god. G/t short story and end with a good ending?

A once cruel god. G/t short story pt4

Hehehehe

Pt1 - Pt3

Amber cautiously looked up at Victor, expecting the sight of some witty smile or the face of someone holding back a laugh. Maybe Victor had just gotten better at sounding serious... but not even his face gave away the joke.

Victors brows were furrowed into a worried expression, his eyes were strangely puffy, and there was no smile, not even a smirk. This was getting harder for Amber to tell if it was genuine or not. "Y-youre joking right, my lord?-" "Victor.."

Amber winced at his voice, bracing for any impact. "I'm sorry..?" "Call me by my name... not my title, please..." Victor asked with his hands clasped together. He almost looked like an angel whenever he did that. "Will you help me become a better person?" Victors eyes shimmer with hope, making Amber even more uncomfortable than he was a moment before. "Why me? How could I possibly help you? I'm just a human... you're a god, nothing I say has any meaning to you"

"That has changed..." Victor insisted, holding Ambers tiny hand with another one of his. "Please, give me a chance to listen and do better... I'll listen from now on, honest"

That stung Victor badly. How could he think something like that? Who had told him such a lie? Ambers words always meant so much to him. How could he not know this? Was his love for the human not clear enough? His praise and kindness were always something he'd stride for. But then again, praise and kindness had always been the only thing he'd listen to, though he could never understand it, he understood the tone, anything otherwise meant nothing to him... oh...

Amber instinctively pulled his hand back, afraid to lose the only one he had left. He could not believe what he was hearing, this all sounded so genuine, too good to be true, what was the catch? "A-and... if I can't? If I say something you don't like? What will happen to me?" He asks while rubbing his arm, looking down at the stump it was reduced to, Victor was already quite fond of the taste of humans, so would Amber become nothing more than a light snack?

"Nothing will!" Victor raises his voice in insistence. "N-nothing will happen to you! I'm asking you a favor after all." Amber seemed a little overwhelmed by the sudden pressure. If he was genuine about this, he would have the opportunity to make sure Victor never hurts anyone ever again! Nobody would ever have to go through the horrendous torture that so many lost their lives to... but on the other hand, Amber was a mere human. He didn't know what would be best for a giant - a god, what if he makes a mistake in his teaching? A human error?

Ambers' thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud growl, making the poor human freeze in fear. He looked up at Victor to see the young god flush red with embarrassment and hug his stomach. "s-sorry... wait- where are you going??" Amber had begun to once again desperately dragging himself away, as did every other human servant flee. This made Victor only feel more ostracized and embarrassed. "H-hey, come on... nothing is going to happen to you." He gently picks Amber up, who squirms at first but quickly gives up.

"My lord- Victor, please put me down - I-I don't want to - I promise I'll help you! I promise! Just please put me down!" Victor beams at Ambers words, once again ignoring the young man's plea in favor of Amber promising to help him. "Really? Do you mean it? Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!" He pushes Amber against his chest, a childlike joy radiated off of Victor. This was supposed to be a hug of some kind.

Then came another growl, Victor wanted to just sink through the floor and disappear. Even feeling Amber tensed up again was making him feel bad. He slowly placed Amber down and lowered himself to their height once more. "I'm sorry about that." Victor speaks in a soft voice, knowing all too well that a moment like this was responsible for a great deal of pain for Amber.

"Shouldn't you eat something..?" Victor shakes his head. "I can't yet, I'm on a diet..." Amber frowns "a diet? Why are you on a diet?" Victor taps his finger nervously on the marbled floor. "I...Ate someone..."

Amber looked confused. Yes, of course, he ate someone. His main diet consisted of human flesh, so it was to be expected that he might eat a human walking around carelessly.

But then he thought a little more about it, and the realization hit him like a brick. Victor wasn't talking about humans, was he? Rather, his own kind - a god. As if Victor wasn't enough of a menace already, he had to take it a step further and become a cannibal!

"You-" Victor nods slowly, his stomach growls some more. "I can't leave my room until all their remains have gone, so now I've just got... cravings..." he explains. "I couldn't help it, I really couldn't. Everything was so strange, and everyone was acting so weird, and I just - I don't know why I did it! I enjoyed it so much - Amber, it was terrible, I ate everything!" Victor holds his stomach tighter as it growls again.

Amber sat there in shock, eating humans was already seen as cruel, but it wasn't frowned upon too much by the gods, but one god eating another? That's a god eater, one of their only fears. As if Victor wasn't isolated enough due to his background, now he has become a threat to everyone involved.

"I won't hurt you, Amber... please don't look at me like I'm a monster.." Victor sounded devastated, not for what he did, but for seeing Ambers eyes like that.

"But... but you've just committed the biggest act of treason. You killed your own kind - you ate your own kind!" Amber had slowly tried to create some distance between the two, but it had no use, Victor wasn't going to let him hide this time.

Amber gulped, thoughts rapidly spun through his mind to try and sugar the god up, pleasing him is all that he knew could make a difference. But just as he was about sweeten his voice and speak some nonsense to go right to the gods head he was stopped by a large finger gently pressing against his lips.

"Amber... don't, please, I'm over that, and I just need you... to stay here with me. " Victors gaze was that of genuine need. Amber was all he had. No other human would feel like they were being listened to and would just continue to be a yes man. Victor laid his head down on the surface, his large eyes delicately trained on Amber.

"You can't help me with this, I merely have to wait it out... so in the meantime... could you teach me to be... better?" Victor asked, already knowing that the human didn't have much of an answer.

Amber looked nervous, rightfully so. There was so much pressure. What would he even begin with?

[astrialuvs]

"Lost in Your Gaze"

➻ SYNOPSIS : Staring at Karma's golden eyes always gets you mesmerized. The compliments you have been keeping for yourself had been spilled when you were in your drunken state - why not spill your feelings too.

➻ PAIRING : akabane karma x reader

➻ GENRE : post-timeskip, fluff, romance

➻ CONTENT WARNING : drunk confessions, mentions of alcohol,

➻ WORD COUNT : 1170 words

a/n: another repost from my old account mweheheh (ㅅ´ ˘ `); i honestly have a headcannon that karma's things are mostly coloured red;

After a long day at work, you stepped out of your office building, tired but relieved that the workweek was coming to an end. As you walked towards the sidewalk, you noticed Karma sitting on the hood of his unmistakable red car, a sly grin on his face.

He waved his hand cheerfully as he greeted you, making you squint your eyes. Your instincts are telling you something, or more like warning you.

"Hey there, Y/N," he greeted, his golden eyes gleaming mischievously. "Long day at the office?" You chuckled, appreciating the familiar banter.

"As always. And what brings you here? As far as I recall, I didn't call you to fetch me, so what's the deal?" you inquired, raising an eyebrow. As he approached you, he laughed, attempting to guide you inside his red car.

Karma slid off the hood, revealing a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I'm just waiting for you, my dear colleague. I figured you're going to Kayano-chan's place as well, so I thought of passing by." He winked at you before opening his car door for you.

"Welcome aboard." Still wary of his actions, you inspect him from head-to-toe.

'Not bad,' you thought. Cutting your train of thoughts, you shrugged off and went inside.

Little did you know, Karma had a prank up his sleeve. As soon as you sat down, you were jolted out of your seat. Behold, a fart cushion has been revealed. Karma burst out laughing. You fell for his prank once more.

"You did it on purpose, didn't yo-?" Karma shut the door on purpose to cut you off. You smacked Karma in the square face with the fart cushion as soon as he got in the car, earning a surprised yet amused expression from him. He laughed but had a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

"Alright, alright, you got me," he admitted, wiping away the imaginary stench.

"You came to get your daily dose of prank; you never change," you said as you tossed the cushion in the back.

"And you never did learn."

Your eyes unintentionally met, and the butterflies began to swarm inside your stomach, just as they had in previous scenarios. You've admitted to yourself that, for months, you developed feelings for Karma. You're not sure why, but you've recently realized that he's just right for you. Your gaze would unconsciously travel only to his figure. His antics never ceased to irritate you, but you somehow enjoyed them. You thought it was insanely stupid at first. Like, how could you fall for him based solely on his endless pranks? But then you noticed the way his mercury orbs looked at you. You don't want to assume, but whenever he looks at you, you get the impression that his gaze is genuine. When you're around, he's like an open book, so vulnerable and fragile. When you realized you had been staring out the window for too long, you quickly averted your gaze. You can't stand the embarrassment if he happens to realize it.

"Y'know, you do have a thing for red, don't you?" you wondered. From his necktie all the way to his car. You also recall that the majority of his clothing in high school was red. "I wouldn't be surprised if your toothbrush is also red," you joked.

"Haha, funny, but how did you know my toothbrush is red?" he admitted.

"You've got to be kidding me!" you exclaimed, perplexed.

"That's my color, I guess,'" he said jokingly. You could only hum to end the conversation while fiddling with your hands.

You became aware that you had fallen into a light slumber when you felt light taps on your shoulders and cheeks. You must have fallen asleep due to exhaustion.

"We're here?" you asked as you peered out the window. Finally, the sun had gone down. Karma unbuckled his seat belt, and you did the same.

"Look who fashionably came late," Kayano said as she opened her door and welcomed you. "Hmm, definitely not us, right, Karma?" Karma chuckled.

"Oh Kayano, I see, you've grown a little, huh?" you teased her jokingly as you hovered your hand a few centimeters above her head, earning a playful smack.

"Yo! It's been a while, guys," you said, noticing the others sitting at the living room table with cans of beer on top.

Upon arrival, you found that most of your friends were already in high spirits, enjoying the night with laughter and drinks. The gang settled in for a night of shared stories and camaraderie. You spent the night catching up on everyone's current life events, especially Kayano and Sugino, the group's superstars.

As the night progressed, the others gradually succumbed to the effects of alcohol. Your head begins to spin for the nth time. Nagisa had just passed out, and Okuda and Kanzaki had gone to one of Kayano's rooms. You only have an average tolerance for alcohol, so catching up to this point astounded you. Your sobriety has left you, which has caused you to say incoherent things. When you announced that you would be heading to bed, Karma offered to escort you.

Kayano led you both to a guest room in her condo, and as she left, you found yourself alone with Karma.He voluntarily stayed with you to look after you. With many shifts and turns, you finally lay on your back. There, in the quietude of the room, you couldn't help but stare into Karma's mesmerizing golden eyes.

In your slightly intoxicated state, you blurted out, "You know, Karma, I really like your eyes. They're like pools of gold. It makes me feel like I am enchanted by you."

He chuckled, his gaze softening. "Well, thank you, Y/N. I've always thought your eyes were pretty amazing too."

You get to see this side of Karma when you two are alone. Maybe because you find solace in each other's comfort. Or even deeper than it is.

The atmosphere in the room shifted, and you felt a surge of courage. "No, Karma, I mean... I really like you."

His eyes widened in surprise, and a moment of silence lingered between you. Karma has said something incoherent to himself, something you can't comprehend. The atmosphere made you a little self-conscious. You wondered about the implications of your drunken confession. Turning around, you settled in, laying on your stomach.

"Hey! Say something!" You grunted as you continued to feel his gaze bore into your figure. Feeling the annoyed emotions, you swatted his face away, making him chuckle and stare at you more.

"Stop staring at me," you declared, dipping your face into the pillow. You stayed in that position for a while, finally passing out some time. Karma nudged you 'until he was finally convinced that you had finally passed out. He tucks your hair behind your ear and runs his fingers through your cheeks.

Little did you know that this moment would lead to a series of events that would unfold in the days to come.

[miyamoratsumuu]

UNSENT LETTERS

↳ he was a writer, you were his muse. and every stroke of his pen reminded him just why all he wished for was to be the one to love you until the end of forever. iwaizumi hajime x female reader wc: 864 note: sappy, lovesick hajime. set around the 1950s or so?? not modern times, basically. phones did not exist yet, and traditional courting was all the rage :D

navigation . . .

haikyuu masterlist

"how many poems have gone unnoticed? my only wish is to be with you until the end"... now playing, leonora by sugarcane

the relationship between you and hajime was like no other. even though he was only courting you now, he treated you as if you were the only woman in the world.

he picked you up from your house for days together, gave both you and your mother flowers whether there was an occasion or not, and visited you after days of not seeing each other. he would have his guitar in hand, giving you a warm smile as he handed you a flower.

"let me sing for you tonight, gorgeous." hajime would sing you songs of adoration, as each chord he played on his guitar matched his voice perfectly. the looks he gave you as he sang were filled with nothing more than genuine fondness, and you felt it.

on days you and hajime were apart, a letter neatly folded inside an envelope was delivered to your front door. every single letter you've received from hajime were words of his longing and endearment towards you, as he never failed to express how much he truly loved you.

"my love, I hope you've been well. I am deeply looking forward to seeing you again soon."

"no matter how bad the rainstorm, your smile is all I need for clear skies, darling."

"I'm half a man whenever I'm apart from you, my beloved."

he loved sending you letters, it was his love language. if he couldn't put his feelings into words, he was confident enough in his writing skills to express his love to you through ink on a piece of paper.

he did it not only to assure you of his undying love but also to prove to you that he was willing to wait. he was willing to spend his days writing letter after letter for you, as long as you knew him for his affection.

the only pieces of writing he never sends you were his poems. each line is made to rhyme with the previous one as they work together to convey your beauty as a person. he could never send you those, as he considered them keepsakes of the parts of you that you only allowed him to see.

all the while hajime will do anything to prove he's worthy of your love. even if it costs him the rest of his life, he'll do it. he needs you to know that you're deserving of someone who would wait a whole lifetime just to love all of you.

hajime loved you. and if the numerous kisses on the cheek and letters that reply to the ones he sent weren't enough, the look in your eyes was enough to tell him that you returned his feelings. he was confident that you loved him.

that was until your smile began to look dim when you spent your days with him. until the warmth in your gaze whenever you looked at him disappeared. and until you stopped replying to his letters.

the day five of his daily letters went un-replied to, he decided to visit your home. only to find out from your next door neighbor that you and your family moved out a week ago. he felt his heart drop as he heard the news. you left. and he didn't know. how could he? you never told him. the only signs you spared were your painfully obvious distancing of yourself from him.

despite his disappointment, his confidence in you loving him didn't falter. he was drowned in his thoughts. he refused to believe that all the days and late nights you spent together meant nothing in the end.

he continued to write for you. day by day, piles of unsent letters and unheard poems filled the corner of his bedroom, each of the envelopes slowly collecting dust from the outside. each letter still contained his commitment to you, and the hope that you will come back to him.

numerous times, he was told that he had to move on and that he could find someone new. he was too young to be throwing away his life for someone who packed their things and left without a word.

he never listened to them. though, he decided to finally write another letter to you. he promised himself it would be the last one for a while.

hajime signed the letter as he set his pen down beside the piece of paper. his gaze traveled to the farthest end of his desk, and then he stood up and left the room before the portrait of both of you with loving expressions could taunt him longer. the last time he felt your presence was in his dreams, and that was weeks ago.

until when was he going to put up with this? until his heart felt numb and until forever ended. he'll wait, for his own sake. you were the reason long before, and it's still you until today. he isn't planning on changing that.

his last letter now sat on top of the pile of unsent ones. that corner of his room now marked the love that was left in him that he could never give to anyone else. 

hajime's until next time:

GILIW KO & AKING SINTA: two filipino terms for "my love"

both letters say the same thing, the right one is just there in case the one on the left is hard to read:)

a/n: guitar player iwa has been on my mind for AGES??? i HAD to somehow incorporate that into this 🙋🏻‍♀️ also, please excuse my editing skills on the first pic, ahahadhauehdahah

[catsushinyakajima]

hey hey I finished reading your "the adults are talking" and you WRECKED ME, like I genuinely don't think you could understand how absolutely ripped apart and splayed open I was. I was crying thick sob tears and putting the fic down, just to pick it back up and immediately start crying again. happened like 4 times.

you wrote it so, so wonderfully, and truly captured insecure Lance in a way that broke me. the characterization in each paladin member was distinctive and fit in the scenario, from their emotional reactions, to their outward displays, to the unique patterns of their speech (and even writing, for Keith n Lance). I loved how you wrote Keith and Lance, but I also absolutely loved the scene where Shiro talks to Lance, cause FUCK, it fucking hurt but was SO in character for him. devastating blow.

also the idea is so perfect? especially for langst?? and executed even more perfectly????? the pacing carried the emotion through it, never too rushed or slow, it was just... perfect.

anyways I'm currently reading through the other KL fics you've got and immensely enjoying the experience, but I needed to tell you how much this fic got to me. you wonderful wonderful writer 🙏

quick link to fic before my response: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59321800

HI HI OKAY SO-

*hands you a tissue for your tears* sorry?? I suppose?? But also your welcome?? I suppose??

It means so much to me that you like my work. Like so much. I'm like squirming with excitement, which is not good because it's causing my laptop to connect/disconnect from charging repeatedly (my charger is weird idk and my laptop's on my lap).

I can never tell how my writing is perceived to others because I'm so used to my words so every time I read it I'm like "okay....ig??" So this is great confirmation that my writing does NOT SUCK THANK YOU!! Thank you very much. It means a lot to my writer heart.

I think speaking is such a valuable and preferred method of communication to Lance. More than having a lot on his mind to say, I think it is a way for him to genuinely connect with people and he puts a lot of weight into his words and the words of people around him (especially if those words are directed at him). I'd like to think that its importance to him is a double edged blade. There are positives such as treasurable interactions, being able to express himself, having a thriving social life, etc. But there are also negatives like over-picking people's words or lack thereof, worrying about saying the wrong thing or too much/too little, putting so much value into his words that it starts to feel meaningless, etc. I wanted to play with the balance between these factors and that's how I came up with this fic!

I'm glad that the way I portrayed his thoughts and feelings resonated with you. I struggle with similar anxieties and it was very natural for me to write Lance's perspective in this fic, so I understand why it would feel personal. I hope that you are never in a situation where uh...you get zapped and your voice box gets paralyzed so you can't speak and are in imminent pain?? But in all seriousness, there is importance to yourself and your words no matter what you or others lead you to believe. Similar to the way I didn't realize the extent of the impact my fic had on people, you might not realize the impact you have on other people. Exhibit A: Your message to me was genuinely so kind and every single sentence you took the time to write means so much to me. I'm definitely coming back to this ask whenever I'm feeling down.

On another note, I feel so bad for making you cry that I'm thinking of writing a Lance Fluff fic to make up for it. What would that be called? If there's Langst, then would that be L' Fluff? Lafluff? L' Hurt/Comfort? If you have any requests or ideas let me know because I'm writing it with you in mind- no pressure, though.

Anyways see you around! I hope you have a good day and week and month and forever and read more good KL fics! Once again, thanks so much for reading!

[throughgoalsandbaskets]

A Demon's Guide to Anthropology

part: 3

Word count: 657

Tags: use of 'MC's and they/them pronouns, sensory sensitivity on MC's end, written to be seen as sensory processing disorder, written based on my experience with it but I tried to change it to be broader

Word: "sensory"

Beel's time to shine :], also this is genuinely such bad writing I'm sorry, gonna come back and edit this to be better some day lol

★• ——— –– -

Beelzebub is a lot more perceptive than people like to give him credit for. With brothers like his and being an athlete, he has to be in order to know what's going on.

Which is why it doesn't take him long to notice the way that MC shies away from a lot of foods, clothes, and objects. Completely random to the common eye, but Beelzebub is most concerned with the food issue.

It's not like MC doesn't eat, not at all, they're healthy and never skin out on a good, fresh meal, but they're always so odd with what they eat.

Meats are off the table most of the time, which isn't all that bad. A lot of people just don't like meat. But some drinks and a good few veggies and fruits added onto that is what confuses him.

Maybe MC was just a picky eater, which again is fine, Devildom foods are weird to get used to, but it also seemed prevalent in human foods, too. To Beel, it seemed completely random, from a few spicy foods to a few sweets and sours, in his eyes he couldn't find a common connection.

So with a breath, he knocked on MC's door and entered when he was allowed.

Beelzebub wasn't normally so nervous or anxious, but he knew human bodies were delicate and didn't want MC and their odd aversions to certain objects or foods to somehow leave a bad mark.

"MC," he began after entering and shutting the door. The human sat in their bed with their D.D.D. in hand, "I have a question."

Intruiged and curious as always, MC responds.

"What's up, Beel? Something wrong?"

"Are you okay?" MC blinks, a little caught off guard at the vague question. The giant demon stood above them, looking down and vaguely reminding the human of a large dog looking at a toy it was attached to.

"Uh- elaborate?"

"You don't eat some stuff and you don't touch some things."

To their credit, MC understood after a moment, and they tried not to seem rude by the way they gave a laugh and smile, shaking their head.

"Do you mean how I don't like touching certain fabrics or eating certain foods?" The ginger nodded at the question.

"That's kinda common for humans," MC explained, "It's called sensory sensitivity. Some textures feel really bad to touch or to eat, so I tend to avoid them. Nothing is wrong with me, I promise."

Beelzebub nodded in solemn understanding, sitting beside the mortal on the rather Plush and comfortable bedding. In his hands was a small box of cookies he knew they favored a lot that he'd taken with him. It took everything in Beelzebub's power not to tear the box open and have at the cookies himself.

"So you can't have some foods or wear some things because they feel weird?"

MC nodded, though they didn't seem very down about it. To them, it was simply another day like any other, knowledge as common as grass is green and Luke despises anything demonic.

To Beelzebub, though, it solidified his resolve as he passed the now opened box of cookies over, one in hand and another in his mouth.

"What food can you not have? I'll eat them for you."

The serious expression to the previous words caused another laugh to bubble out of MC, and they took their own cookie from the box.

"It's hard to explain, but I'll pass you any whenever they come with a meal I have. Deal?"

Beelzebub nodded and put a hand on MC's head (the demon struggled sometimes with such casual affection and touch with most people, but had recently picked up on simply resting a hand on the mortal's head and leaving it there for a minute), and after a few moments a comfortable silence and sharing cookies, he spoke once more.

"Hell's Kitchen?"

"Hell's Kitchen."

[voiceofthebroken]

ive seen your posts about vot opportunist from time to time, and 春嵐 by TOOBOE_john somewhat reminded me of your interpretation of him

I looked this up just to see and honestly I can kind of see this (also thank you, this song is going into my playlist now /silly). while I try deciphering the lyrics in my head, I'm taking this ask as an opportunity (heh) to ramble about my interpretation of Opportunist :3 (which my bad)

as far as I can tell, the song (or at least depicted in the MV) is like an emotional breakdown and kind of behind the scenes for some people when it comes to social media. using Opportunist as an example, how I would write him or at least view him; it's putting on a front and pretending to be something you're not, hiding what you truly are from the public eye. on social media and other online platforms, it's not as though people can truly see a person's struggles from behind the screen, at least not unless some of that is expressed. but this is usually kept hidden as there are those who would ridicule it.

with Opportunist, the way I interpret him is sort of like him trying to hide his vulnerability behind a mask (such as the one I draw him with in my design, or similar-esque to the music video I saw). because people can and will take advantage of this—it's far too risky to simply show that side of him. that would include his emotions, thus he masks them with a composed yet somewhat enthusiastic expression. perhaps a little smug as well, so I gave him a mask with a kitty face on it.

from experience, however, prolonged duration of keeping this mask on causes other emotions to sort of break through the mask at times—mostly in private though. otherwise, it leads to not knowing your own identity anymore and a sort of emptiness when that mask is off. Opportunist could be at this stage, or maybe not—it's difficult to tell with his flip-flopping personality in the game. I could be grasping at strings, but Opportunist could be clinging onto that mask because it's all that he has ever known. he only knows betrayal and manipulation as ways to survive, he foils with Hunted as they are both survival but in different forms. keeping that mask on is how Opportunist believes he will make it through another day, he's never had the genuine trust or care from other people—so why should he? after all, wearing his heart on his sleeve may as well only lead to it being stabbed with a dagger. he would be a fool to do that.

as everyone can see what is there on social media, the fear of judgement may be there. especially with such a large-scale audience, you don't know what people truly think or if they mean what they say with their words. which with how I write Opportunist, he would continue putting up this mask of his even if the praises he receives are fabricated and insincere. it's better than receiving jabs at his true, vulnerable self that knows nothing other than the hurt and painful cycle. to Opportunist, it's better to receive good things and to be on top of everyone else, even if it doesn't feel good. it's safer than to be at risk of someone stabbing you in the back or being taken advantage of when you're in a bad position, better safe than sorry.

apologies for these paragraphs, but at least that's some of how I view Opportunist and try to write him whenever I do end up writing him. on a separate note though, another similar-ish song I associate Opportunist with is Dramaturgy by Eve which I think also goes along with the theme of putting on a mask and acting as though the world is a stage to perform on :3

[agirlwithdemonblood]

The Celebrity Next Door: Chapter 8: Embracing Enough

Pairings: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Chapter Summary: A day spent on the board walk brings a whirwind of emotions.

Warnings: Panic attacks, fluff, panicking, insecurities.

Series Masterlist here!! & Main masterlist here!

Time flies when you're having fun, or so they say.

I used to doubt it; fun didn't always make time race by for me. But this past week with Jensen and his kids felt like just hours since they arrived. Now here they were, packing up to head back to their mom's place.

I gathered my things, slipping on my shoes by the back door, preparing to leave when Jensen wandered over, a playful smirk on his face. "Where are you sneaking off to?" he teased, pulling me close by my coat.

I chuckled, gently pushing his chest back. "Home, silly."

His smile faltered, and he looked at me, surprised, almost hurt. "Why?"

Confusion washed over me as I approached him, offering a polite smile. "What do you mean, why? Out of respect. Remember last time?"

His expression turned cold, and he glanced away, attempting to rebuild his walls. "Hey, Jensen, don't do that," I urged gently. "I'm not trying to upset you. Last time we agreed we were enjoying the drama-free zone. We don't have to change anything."

He frowned, shaking his head. "I want it to change. I don't want to hide anymore. This past week has been amazing for all of us. I want our little bubble to pop and step into the real world, together."

I smiled, setting my bag down and moving closer to wrap my arms around him. "Then let's pop it."

Half an hour later, the kids' mom arrived.

I swallowed my nerves, standing from my spot, glancing to Jensen who seemed even more nervous than I was.

Her face dropped when she saw me, a knowing smile on her lips. "Oh, Hi. Y/N, right?" she greeted, stepping closer to us.

I nodded, smiling warmly. "Yes, nice to see you again, Sarah!"

She maintained her composure, glancing at Jensen, who was unusually quiet and still, frozen almost. "Jensen? Are you going to say hi or just stand there like a deer in headlights?" she teased.

Jensen managed a polite smile, shaking off his nerves. "Hey, Sarah. How was the drive?"

She shrugged, looking towards her car. "Not bad. I do miss Austin, though. Might consider moving back."

Jensen's jaw clenched, his expression turning cold and guarded, walls going up brick by brick. I stepped back, letting them talk, sitting beside the kids on the stairs.

"So, did you guys have a good week?" I asked.

Katie nodded, leaning against my shoulder. "I'll miss you!"

I laughed softly, touched by her words. "I'll miss you too, Katie. But don't worry, I live right next door. Come visit me whenever you're back, okay?"

She nodded eagerly, and I turned to Kevin, who sat with arms crossed, wearing a grouchy expression. "And you, Kevin? Did you have a good week?"

He shrugged and huffed, retreating into his cold behaviour as if the week hadn't happened at all. It stung a bit, but he was a kid, struggling with the back-and-forth between parents. It couldn't be easy.

The parents' voices rose before falling silent altogether. Jensen walked away from Sarah, shaking his head, and approached Katie and Kevin, attempting a smile. "Come on, guys. Time to get in the car."

We waved goodbye as they drove off, and I couldn't help but feel a sting of sadness seeing Katie and Jensen look so downhearted. They weren't my family yet, but I could feel myself growing emotional seeing the hurt that filled the area.

Once the car was out of sight, Jensen sat on the stairs, and I joined him quickly. He stared out at the road, jaw clenched, fists tight with whatever was going on in his mind.

"Jensen?" I whispered, catching his attention.

He turned towards me, managing a sad smile. "I'm good. It's just a lot sometimes."

I nodded understandingly, squeezing his hand tightly. "Well, why don't we do something today? Get out of the house a bit?"

He smiled genuinely and squeezed my hand. "Yeah. Let's do it."

After looking up things to do, Jensen suggested we visit the beachside market. It had little kiosks and stands with handmade items, something I was excited to explore.

We parked on the street, his hand finding mine immediately. Jensen was never shy about affection in the right moments. With his kids around, it was innocent; just the two of us, it was constant and comforting.

As we strolled down the pier, I admired the beautiful booths displaying a range of handmade items—henna art, handmade bags, clothing, and more. It felt like walking through an art exhibit, each stall captivating my attention.

Jensen chuckled softly, drawing my gaze. "What?" I asked nervously.

He smirked, pulling me close. "You're adorable. That's what."

My cheeks flushed at the compliment, Jensen was never shy of that either. He'd constantly throw compliments at me, telling me how beautiful I was, how adorable. He didn't realize how much those words meant to me, especially since I didn't feel like skmeone who belonged beside a celebrity like him, but he made me feel otherwise.

We continued down the boardwalk, stopping at each booth. Jensen paused at a display of handmade gemstone necklaces while I spotted something intriguing at the nearby booth—a handmade beanie with "COD" embroidered on it, Call of Duty.

My thoughts turned to Kevin. Would he like it? Would he find it ridiculous? Jensen wrapped his arms around me from behind, a soft kiss on my shoulder sending shivers down my spine. "What are you looking at?"

I smiled, pointing to the beanie hanging on the rack. "I'm not sure if Kevin would like it, but..."

He turned me to face him, a wide grin on his face. "He'd love it."

We purchased the beanie and were about to leave when giggling caught my attention. Two girls from a nearby booth were whispering and giggling, eyeing Jensen like he was a celebrity cutout.

Time seems to fly when you're having fun, or so they say. I used to doubt it; fun didn't always make time race by for me. But this past week with Jensen and his kids felt like mere hours since they arrived. Now they were packing up to head back to their mom's place. Kevin and Katie sorted their bags in the hallway while Jensen came down the stairs, as usual, to see them off.

I gathered my things, slipping on my shoes by the back door, preparing to leave when Jensen hurried over, a playful smirk on his face. "Where are you sneaking off to?" he teased, pulling me close by my coat.

I chuckled, gently pushing his chest back. "Home, silly."

His smile faltered, and he looked at me, surprised, almost hurt. "Why?"

Confusion washed over me as I approached him, offering a polite smile. "What do you mean, why? Out of respect. Remember last time?"

His expression turned cold, and he glanced away, attempting to rebuild his walls. "Hey, Jensen, don't do that," I urged gently. "I'm not trying to upset you. Last time we agreed we were enjoying the drama-free zone. We don't have to change anything."

He frowned, shaking his head. "I want it to change. I don't want to hide anymore. This past week has been amazing for all of us. I want our bubble to be real. I want us to step out into the real world together."

I smiled, setting my bag down and moving closer to wrap my arms around him. "Then let's change it."

Half an hour later, the kids' mom arrived. I swallowed my nerves, standing my ground as Jensen seemed even more nervous than me.

Her face dropped when she saw me, a knowing smile on her lips. "Oh, hi. Y/N, right?" she greeted, stepping closer to us.

I nodded, smiling warmly. "Yes, nice to see you again, Daneel!"

She maintained her composure, glancing at Jensen, who was unusually quiet and still, frozen almost. "Jensen? Are you going to say hi or just stand there like a deer in headlights?" she teased.

Jensen managed a polite smile, shaking off his nerves. "Hey, Daneel. How was the drive?"

She shrugged, looking towards her car. "Not bad. I do miss Austin, though. Might consider moving back."

Jensen's jaw clenched, his expression turning cold and guarded, walls going up brick by brick. I stepped back, letting them talk, sitting beside the kids on the stairs.

"So, did you guys have a good week?" I asked.

Katie nodded, leaning against my shoulder. "I'll miss you!"

I laughed softly, touched by her words. "I'll miss you too, Katie. But don't worry, I live right next door. Come visit me whenever you're back, okay?"

She nodded eagerly, and I turned to Kevin, who sat with arms crossed, wearing a surly expression. "And you, Kevin? Did you have a good week?"

He shrugged and huffed, retreating into his chilly demeanor as if the week hadn't happened at all. It stung a bit, but he was a kid, grappling with the back-and-forth between parents. It couldn't be easy.

The parents' voices rose before falling silent altogether. Jensen walked away from Daneel, shaking his head, and approached Katie and Kevin, attempting a smile. "Come on, guys. Time to get in the car."

We waved goodbye as they drove off, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness seeing Katie and Jensen look so crestfallen. They weren't my family yet, but I felt a deep emotional tug.

Once the car was out of sight, Jensen sat on the stairs, and I joined him quickly. He stared out at the road, jaw clenched, fists tight with some inner turmoil.

"Jensen?" I whispered, catching his attention.

He turned towards me, managing a sad smile. "I'm good. It's just a lot sometimes."

I nodded understandingly, squeezing his hand tightly. "Well, why don't we do something today? Get out of the house a bit?"

He smiled, the first genuine one all morning. "Yeah. Let's do it."

After looking up things to do, Jensen suggested we visit the beachside market. It boasted kiosks and stands with handmade items, something I was excited to explore.

We parked on the street, his hand finding mine immediately. Jensen was never shy about affection in the right moments. With his kids around, it was innocent; just the two of us, it was constant and comforting.

As we strolled down the pier, I marveled at the beautiful booths displaying an array of handmade goods—henna art, handmade bags, clothing, and more. It felt like walking through an art exhibit, each stall captivating my attention.

Jensen chuckled softly, drawing my gaze. "What?" I asked nervously.

He smirked, pulling me close. "You're adorable. That's what."

My cheeks flushed at the compliment, Jensen never holding back his admiration. He didn't realize how much those words meant to me. I didn't feel like someone who belonged beside a celebrity like him, but he made me feel otherwise.

We continued down the boardwalk, stopping at each booth. Jensen paused at a display of handmade gemstone necklaces while I spotted something intriguing at the adjacent booth—a handmade beanie with "COD" embroidered on it, Call of Duty.

My thoughts turned to Kevin. Would he like it? Would he find it ridiculous? Jensen wrapped his arms around me from behind, a soft kiss on my shoulder sending shivers down my spine. "What are you looking at?"

I smiled, pointing to the beanie hanging on the rack. "I'm not sure if Kevin would go for it, but..."

He turned me to face him, a wide grin on his face. "He'd love it."

I purchased the beanie and were about to leave when giggling caught my attention. Two girls from a nearby booth were whispering and giggling, eyeing Jensen like he was a celebrity cutout.

I glanced at Jensen, who seemed unbothered, unaware of the giggles or the fingers being pointed his way, and then I remembered. He's a celebrity-this is normal for him.

We started to walk back down the boardwalk when their high pitched screams stopped us in our tracks, the girls from before rushing over, stopping only inches from Jensen.

"Jensen! Oh my god! Can we get a picture please?"

Jensen turned towards me apologetically, but I shrugged it off with a polite smile. I knew this could have happened, I knew he was a celebrity, I just forgot. I didn't realize how intense this could be. How does he handle this?

After snapping a few photos for the girls, I handed back their phone. Insecurities started swallowing me, watching their perfect smiles, beautiful clothing and sun-kissed skin, and than there was me. I wasn't the type anyone would expect to see with a celebrity. Anxiety crept in, wondering why Jensen chose me.

I passed the phone back and started walking down the boardwalk, my anxiety rising with every step, the air in my lungs squeezing tight as my mind continued it's torture.

He caught up as I walked ahead, his hand gently resting on my back. "Hey... Are you okay?"

I nodded, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. Panic swirled inside me, doubts echoing loudly.

Your not enough. Your fooling yourself by thinking he would EVER want to be with you. Jensen deserves better. He doesn't find you attractive. You're nothing.

"Honey?" Jensen whispered, stopping me and looking into my eyes, concern etched on his face.

I swallowed hard, a raspy cough escaping me, breathing fast. "Okay... okay, deep breaths," Jensen coached gently, his touch comforting.

I hated it. I hated that he was staring at me like this. I hated that I was ruining everything with my stupid mind. I hated that he had to take care of me. I hated that I wasn't good enough for him.

His hand was gentle yet firm on my arm, leading me to the stairs on the pier to get some privacy. I shakingly sat down, throwing my head in my hands to avoid whatever pity look he was offering me.

"Honey. Please talk to me, what's going on?"

Great job Y/N, now your worrying him for no reason.

"Jensen... you don't need to... I'll be okay," I managed between breaths, but the fear and sadness in my eyes were evident.

"Why are you saying this?" he asked softly, tilting his head, eyes searching mine.

I shook my head, tears streaming down. "Because... I'm not worth it... I don't fit in your world, Jensen Ackles and... I'm just me."

He took my hand, tilting my chin to meet his gaze. A soft smile graced his lips as he spoke, his eyes firm. "Says who?"

"Everybody." I raised my voice, the anxiety rising each moment. "Society. You seen those girls, I'm nothing compared to them. Their sun kissed skin, beautiful outfits and model like faces. I'm not like that at all."

He nodded and moved in front of me, holding my hands tightly. "You're right. Your not like those girls, that's why I like you. I love that even though you've been here for a while, you still have light skin, I love that I can clearly see the sun spots and freckles on your face, I love that you don't spend hours in the mirror putting makeup on, you just instantly look gorgeous. What you look like doesn't determine your worth but if it did, trust me your more than worth it."

I rolled my eyes and gained the courage to stand, my thoughts spiralling. "You don't need to say that."

He moved quickly, grabbing my arm and spinning me around until I was nestled tightly against him, his hand softly urging my head to rest on his chest.

"You are more than enough. You've never demanded anything from me. You gave me a second chance when I didn't deserve it. You've helped me countless times without expecting anything in return. And you connect with my kids so well—Kevin won't admit it, but he likes you. You've made an effort to play video games with him, to do what he enjoys. Katie takes up a lot of time, and I worry he feels left out, but you see him. You effortlessly balance everything, without seeking praise."

I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tightly, feeling him ground me. He understood me better than anyone.

"You will always be more than enough for me. You're the one I want to be with. Those other girls? They're not beautiful to me. You are beautiful. Naturally, flawlessly gorgeous. Just look at yourself... You take my breath away, honey."

Jensen gently lifted my face towards his, kissing me with a passion I'd never known before. Our bodies pressed together, warmth enveloping us. His hands moving to my hair, pulling me impossibly closer, making sure that I knew he meant what he said.

Each pause for breath left us gasping, caught in a whirlwind of emotions. We were falling in love, or perhaps we already had.

If he could love me like this, then maybe, just maybe, I truly was enough.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Chapter 9 coming soon stay tuned!

Like, comment, and reblog, feedback is my fuel 💕

[actual-changeling]

Hello! I don’t disagree with anything from your post about how Aziraphale emotionally manipulated Crowley during the final fifteen. I just have a few questions on your opinion on the whole situation regarding Aziraphale.

I do agree that he may have said some of the sentences at the end of the intentionally to try and get Crowley to come back with him, and undermines Crowley with some of it as well, But I think that some of what he says at the beginning of what you were looking at come from a place of what he truly does want for both of them. The ‘I need you’ and ‘we can be together’ I have always felt are completely genuine, and coming from a place of want/fear. Do you think that these were said to try and manipulate Crowley at an unconscious level, or from a place of want and/or fear? To repeat, I don’t want to come off mean at all, I don’t disagree with anything you’ve said previously, and I do agree that the words that I mentioned were a part of the emotional manipulation. I’m sorry if you mentioned the answer to this before! Have a good rest of your day!

You're all good, don't worry!

Do you think that these were said to try and manipulate Crowley at an unconscious level, or from a place of want and/or fear?

The fun part is that we don't have to choose one or the other because it can be—and in my opinion is—both.

Aziraphale very much does need Crowley, he has been using him as his crutch in dangerous situations since the very beginning. Everything that he tells him during their argument is something he truly believes in one way or another, but he isn't blindly following his thoughts and opinions. He knows that many parts of his moral ideology are hurtful towards Crowley or factually incorrect, but he clings to them regardless because it's the most comfortable position for him to be in.

This puts him in a position where he can choose what he wants to say and how he wants to say it. Since he wants to manipulate Crowley into returning to heaven with him, he voices emotions and thoughts he'd otherwise keep quiet.

I need you—he does need him, but the fact that he is choosing to say it in this specific moment in that specific tone is a clear attempt at manipulation. Aziraphale KNOWS Crowley is a nervous wreck when it comes to his safety, so that is where he tries to get hm. Make him scared enough for Aziraphale's well-being and he will tear himself to pieces to save him; it has worked in the past, and he expects it to work now.

When it doesn't, he resorts to "I don't think you understand what I'm offering you" and then to silent treatment & emotional rejection.

If you are incredibly familiar with another person, you know their weak points and buttons and how to exploit & press them. For example, let's say you're having an argument with a friend or partner and you know you made a mistake and are in the wrong.

However, you feel ashamed and embarrassed, you get defensive and know that if you were to openly express how bad you are feeling right now, they would try to appease you instead because that's one of their weaknesses; whenever someone else is upset, they prioritize them over themselves.

So what do you do?

Telling them that you feel bad would be the truth and you do want their comfort, but would it be fair?´Would it show respect for who they are and the relationship you have with them? Or are you going to actively emotionally manipulate them because you can and are uncomfortable?

Aziraphale voicing all of those sentiments is disrespecting Crowley and their relationship because he is 100% aware of the impact. It is not nice, it's not fair, it's mean and unkind, it borders on cruel.

Sometimes you have to swallow your emotions and discomfort and be emotionally mature. Sometimes you are simply in the wrong and "compromising" means growing the fuck up and taking responsibility for you mistakes. You can always deal with your shit later once everything has calmed down instead of putting your comfort above your friend's well-being.

I hope this answered your question, feel free to ask for clarification if needed; have a good day!

[wolfpackmuses]

@heedingcalls asked: "‘ i can handle that myself, you know. ‘ kitty to steele because she WILL NOT LEAVE ME ALONE TO SEND HIM SOMETHING"

From: Prompts for people who aren't used to kindness || Accepting!

Steele paused momentarily to turn his head to look back toward her and gave the ever-smallest tilt of his head. He didn't say anything right away or anything, but it had caught him off-guard briefly, as he was in the middle of helping her move some stuff into her dressing room for a performance she had planned for that night. Steele and Kitty had an... interesting relationship. It seemed both of them couldn't get enough of one another and he still was trying to sort out the best way to fully express his feelings for her.

He still really hadn't come up with the best idea on how to do that, but he had some plans that he wanted to do. The first part of that was for him to finally take her on that date he had promised her. He had been meaning to do it sooner, but he just kept forgetting how busy both of them seemed to be. He kicked himself frequently because he wanted to go and make it official, but he just didn't think telling her out of the blue was the best option. Again, hence why he wanted to have their date first.

But, that was something for later. Right now, he was just trying to help her get settled. And after her comment, he wasn't sure if she wanted the help. So, as a result, he decided he'd play a little bit of a ruse on her. Not anything bad, but just some small things to tease her.

❝Oh? I'm sure the next thing you're going to say is that you don't want me to watch your show either tonight... or to come visit you after you're done,❞ he remarked with an exaggerated sigh as he turned to walk back toward her, ❝I know there can be so many things you can handle yourself, however...❞

The hound got down on a knee to be at eye level with her and gave her a soft smile. A genuine one, one that he rarely seemed to show unless it was around her. God, the fact he hadn't even said anything about his crush and love for her yet was picking away at him and he hated it.

❝But I'm still going to be more than happy to help you out whenever you need it. After all... how could I not do that for my favorite performer?❞ he asked with a chuckle, ❝After all... I've grown to like you... quite a bit. More than that...❞

He sighed and he closed his eyes momentarily. Did he really want to confess this now? Was it the right time? A lot of questions were racing through his mind but before he could even process them all, words spilled from his mouth. It seemed... his heart was speaking for him this time.

❝I... I think I've fallen in love with you, Kitty. I... don't know how to express it, but I had wanted to do it on the date and well...❞ Yeah. Cat was out of the bag now.

[countlessrealities]

@mcltiples sent:

Approaching with determined and confident steps, Rick V-79 entered his counterpart's personal space. A little too close for comfort, but he didn't care. What mattered was that he had a goal. And he was determined to fulfill it.

"I-I've come to realize that we are counterparts, so i-if today is my birthday, that means its yours too," Sharp pale eyes stayed glued on the other, digging something out from his lab coat pocket. "I-I got this for you, for the gratitude I feel of you not judging nor condemning me as bad."

Removing the item from his pocket, he dangled it within his fingers to show it off. It was a pocket watch but it didn't tell time normally. It looked as if it shifted to fit whichever dimension they were. Converting it's time to one that the wearer would be used to.

Softly placing a hand on the other's chest, he stepped closer. "Y-You're slowly becoming an ally and a friend, so I-I hope this serves you in your travels and makes you think of me."

{ To your Evil Rick from my Evil Rick bc i had to fhdhdhdhd }

At first, when he spotted his counterpart marching towards him, Rick thought nothing of it. In the little time they had known each other, he had come to expect the single-mindedness that seemed to permeate each and every of his other self's gesture whenever he set his mind on something.

The violation of his personal space left him just completely unfazed too. Not only it was expected, but he himself had no real concept of it.

His blank expression started to waver at the word "birthday" and, by the time his mirror image had pulled his gift out, confusion was written all over his features. A very rare thing to witness, since his face hardly ever betray any emotion.

Rick blinked once, reaching out in the very little space that was left between their bodies to accept the present. He would have studied it later, right now he had more pressing matters at hand. First and foremost processing the information he had just been given. The same piece of information that he had removed from his own memory not long after having left his Earth behind for the first time.

".....I-I wasn't aware that today is our birthday," he finally admitted, gray-blue eyes dropping on the pocket watch for a moment. "I-It's a notion that has never held any meaning to me, s-so I got rid of it."

The day had never been different from all the others, not once in his life. It had always been the same neglect, violence and pain as all the others. He had never seen why it should be celebrated.

His gaze returned on his counterpart as he pocketed the watch.

"T-Thank you, other me," he went on, allowing their identical eyes to meet. "T-This is a wonderful gift. I will treasure it. A-As I've already started to treasure our alliance an-and budding friendship."

His hand briefly touched the one lying against his chest, a gesture that was supposed to express how genuine his words were.

"I-I'm afraid I don't have anything for you now. I-I didn't know about the anniversary." A pause. "W-Wait for me tonight. I-I'll come to you."

[stuffymcstuffsworld]

When it comes to the things I enjoy, I struggle to put those thoughts into words. Sense I tend to express my ideas in a more illustrative way, writing was never my greatest strength.

So, I look for works that others in the community have written to see how they have worded their thoughts and whenever I'd find a really good one, I felt so... inspired. Whether it be a long fic, short drabble, or quick one-shot, the feeling is always the same and your works are no different. Or rather, it's when reading your works that I've noticed that feeling of inspiration. Genuinely, your works are amazing and I always look forward to the next one. Recently, I've decided to use my inspiration to start writing my own fic. Is it perfect? Definitely Not. But does it make me happy? Absolutely.

Thank you for being an amazing writer and a source of inspiration. I hope that you, too, will continue to be inspired by the things that you enjoy.

Just... imma just sit here and cry cause I feel bad lately. I've been a little too busy to write, but this has made my day.

I'm so happy to have encouraged you. To inspire someone into creating something all there own is the best feeling.

[irlactualhuman]

thanks for answering my ask about the talking at thing :]]

I never really thought about that before, I just wanted to be sure I understood right before I attempted to comment on the post lol

I think its easy for me personally to fall into both categories, doing the talking at when I'm in a situation where I feel nervous (I'm a compulsive oversharer, sometimes I actually just say things lmao) or just really excited (then I get caught up in my own words and excitement in having an opportunity to share), and I also struggle with asking people questions. I don't want to seem like I'm prying, and also I find myself thinking that if someone wanted me to know something they would just tell me, which is flawed thinking because as you said, people do want to share, its just the concept of inviting them to share what they want to, the same way I want to be invited to share. More so I find myself letting myself be talked at when I really enjoy the person's company or don't want to come off as "too much", and fear judgement or saying something wrong. It's a balance I have to work out, too.

I'm used to being interested in people and them not being interested in me, or at least not interested in me to the same extent I am in them. I guess what I do is just let them talk at me and feel special because they wanted to share those things with me, and listen in a very npc-like manner and not really provide anything to add. Then afterwards when I'm alone I feel yucky with myself for not expressing myself or allowing myself to share my personality, and feel bad for all of the opportunities I had to share my opinions, ideas, or take on a topic and then feel disappointed or not valued. I love talking but I want to be encouraged to talk and share my opinions too, it feels more valuable and important and just nice when you feel like someone wants to hear what you have to say, you know?

I think what would/does help me in scenarios where I feel like I haven't shared is to realize, number one, that I haven't shared anything yet even though internally I do have something to comment on, and two, to make myself speak even if I feel shy about it whenever I feel like I have something to say that is an equivalent to what the other person has told me. Like if they ramble to me about something that happened, i'll respond to what they said or ask any questions I have, and then respond to their story with a similar one of my own. Also, it helps to remind myself that yes, someone who feels comfortable enough to share with me on a topic and I also feel comfortable sharing with would probably not be mad at me for also feeling comfortable to share with them. As you wrote, meeting them on their level. I don't know if its egocentric or an overstep or something to assume someone sharing also wants you to share too (on second thought that makes more sense to me than I thought) but sometimes you just gotta reassure yourself that you do belong in spaces and you are valid and your voice matters too.

Thank you for your response Lea! You verbalized feelings that I didn't even know I had, I don't know if this response makes sense but it is something for me to think about and be aware of now. This helped me a lot even though it probably might just sound like me mirroring your post.

Heyo. Happy to help! Always. 😊

Genuinely, I feel like people probably DO give a damn about what you have to say if they're already trying to share stuff with you.

It makes sense that they'd want you to share in turn. If you're already in that situation. That one on one sort of intimate endeavor. Even if they might be kinda bad at prompting you. Like duh. I mean. I would. I care. And it's not like it's truly their failing. Maybe they don't know how.

Perhaps we could both stand to give them the benefit of the doubt and think they're at least as loving and indulgent as we are.

Maybe, if they aren't, seeing that we are might inspire them to be.

Maybe it's worth taking the risk regardless.

Personally, I just... really could use the prompting. At least a little bit. At first. Yknow. Like a running start. I never shut up once I get going. Obvs. But I'm fuckin shy.

And ugh. I would share the world with them, had I the world in my pocket.

Or maybe it's just that I really want someone to be as intense about me as I am about them. Which is foolish, I'm sure. Maybe. Perhaps. Maybe not. I really don't think it'd be at all tiring or yucky, as you said, if we're both sharing. The energy is held between us, rather than only going one way.

What beautiful magic we could conjure with that energy. Dontcha think?

[verflares]

hey!!!! i LOVE your totk fic and adore the way you write and was genuinely curious as to what your writing process is like?? i’m still trying to get to grips with writing but im stuck in the endless loop of editing while i write so i end up never finishing anything 😭😭

hello!! first of all, thank you so much! i get so ^_^ whenever someone tells me they enjoy my work, words can't express how much i appreciate it now, as to answer your question, i would say.... chaotic LMAO. it's a little difficult to put it into words, especially to describe it because like... how You do things feels natural, right? but umm... i usually have an idea of what i Want to happen in the chapter planned out before i start writing, so i'll divide it into chunks. i'll usually put a little synopsis of the scene in each to help both guide my direction and remind me of what i'm doing as i write. as someone who actually also prefers to edit as i write, i feel it's been a good method in making sure i don't get overwhelmed! especially if i'm having a slow or bad writing day. as for getting out of editing loops, my usual go-to is to just... leave it and move on. i'll do this either by putting a little comment next to it (something like, a very loose reminder or even an idea of how i want the paragraph or interaction to play out), or jumping ahead to a different part of the chapter entirely and chipping away at that instead. here's a little example (from a snippet of the next chapter i'm still working on lol):

by the time i come back to what was giving me trouble, i usually realise it's fine the way i left it, or writing ahead has given me some new ideas of how to pad it out properly! i feel what's most important and encouraging for me, personally, is Progress - and that can be non-linear, too! as long as i've chipped away at the chapter in some form or other, i feel happy.

this is what i mean by chaotic, because it's a bit... all over the place LOL. i also don't do first drafts for example 💀 (but this is also because editing as you go makes it mostly non-essential imo) but i dunno! everyone's creative process is different, and if you find yourself struggling with something, it may just be good to either step back or just chip away at something else for awhile! you may be surprised at what your brain will come up with in the meantime

finally, if i could offer one more piece of writing advice, it's Reading. read, read, read! whether it be fanfiction or published works, nothing - and i mean nothing - will help you more than reading. exposure to other people's styles, their prose, will genuinely help you so much in your approach to your own work, and even ideas for what you're struggling with! and i obviously don't mean plagiarism or anything like that either of course. i just mean that considering what you Enjoyed about that creator's work will help you develop your own, and in the process, creating your unique style and process. it's the same for art and music - the creative process, especially if you're still getting used to a hobby, is filled with evolution and finding out what you enjoy about it. try things out! see what works for you! have fun with it, and remember that you are creating for Yourself most of all. (reggie fils amie voice) because if its not fun, why bother

[marumarielle]

‼️ anon

Ghttps://www.tumblr.com/marumarielle/739410918618923008/anon-here-hey-maru-do-u-feel-like-loablr-has-a

GIRL U LITERALLY FRAMED ALL MY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS SO WELL.

But honestly, so REAL, OMD. I think that the whole "tough love" mean tone should be reserved for those (and literally only those) who come up with silly excuses as to why they didn't manifest and procrastinate bc of literally the stupidest things. And that tone should only be used once in a while as some people may have genuine problems and self-blaming issues alongside these things. Tough love motivation can really go a long way, so I'm not entirely opposed to the idea of it just to how much it's used and to who it's used towards.

For those who have genuine problems and things holding them back from manifesting, we definitely should be kinder to them.

I recall one time a certain loa blogger here (I won't be saying their name, but it's starts with l and ends with 1) went into a certain shifter's post (won't be saying who) about how they were struggling with shifting and hated their CR or smth and when I went to the replies I saw them shouting at them being like "it's only YOUR FAULT, that u didn't shift, STOP IDENTIFYING WITH FAILURE" and I'm like girl..... why the hell are u shouting on this random person who ain't even in LOAblr? Maybe be more positive towards them bc shouting at someone and telling them their failures are no one's fault, but theirs is legit so bad for someone's mental health and self esteem like...

Honestly, I think it's tricky to navigate the law and this community without encountering unnecessary self blame, and so it's important we frame and type our posts in a way that doesn't encourage it and is against it.

Remember, y'all make sure to feed ur subconscious with the things u wanna see in ur physical reality but not push all those negative feelings u have about ur circumstances deep inside, it's incredibly unhealthy and it's always good to express ur feelings. The sort of principal I adopt is spend 80% of the time persisting in the new story and ignoring the 3d and 20% venting and reacting to the old story. So far it's been helpful in maintaining a dominant state and allowing an outlet for my emotions.

Oh my god this also just said everything in my head and what I felt about tough love here in LOAblr!! And I love the 80/20 method you do (I think I remember knowing that this a real method but in a diff context). But, aside from that, I feel like as a member of the loassumption community we do need to start being wise with our words and being careful about. Because, I never know who's reading my posts and what I say can be more triggering than helpful which isn't what I want. It isn't what we want.

This is also why I want to encourage the mindset of "Failures are just opportunities to succeed" because that has helped me SO much. Not just loablr and shiftblr wise. I'm an academic achiever and that's my motto. So, whenever I get a low grade I grieve first and pick myself back up. Which leads to my 2nd point: It's okay to feel down! If anything, feeling your emotions do not take anything from you. They're sensations and suppressing them won't do any good. Let yourself feel safe to feel them <3