#i've been crying for the past 12 hours

[twizzie-lairs]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 13)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |

Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

Part 13:

After practically being dragged by Vaggie back into the main lobby of the hotel with Alastor quietly humming behind the two of you, you were basically swarmed by Charlie, Angel, Husk and Nifty.

"WHERE WERE YOU? I was so scared!" Charlie barely manages to get out past the blubbering tears streaming down her face as she hugs you.

Angel examined your body with all of his arms, checking to make sure you were okay, "Geeze, toots, how'd you manage to survive that long against Smiles over there? I was sure you'd be dead meat!"

Husk gave you a glance up and down, "Glad you're alright. I'd hate to miss out on getting to know another drinking buddy." Husk glances over to Angel and grumbles under his breath, "You owe me $50."

"You were betting on if (y/n) was alive???" Vaggie groans, hands rubbing her face in exasperation.

Nifty is basically hyperventilating in your face, sniffing and examining your hair strand by strand, "Yup- still gross- EW!" Before she launches off your shoulders to go and do god knows what somewhere in some far corner of the hotel...

You let out a breathy chuckle, "I appreciate the concern... and the vote of confidence... Angel..." You give a sarcastic glare over in the spider's direction, earning a sheepish smile from Angel.

Taking Charlie's hands in your's, you take one of your hands to dry the tears from her eyes and say, "Charlie, you don't need to cry. You're such a sweet girl. I honestly can't thank you- and Vaggie-" you smile in Vaggie's direction before continuing, "- for saving my life and bringing me here to the Hazbin Hotel. I came here to find the love of my life- back from when I was alive. It's only been a few hours, yet you've already helped me fulfill the goal I've been trying to achieve for decades!"

Your words brought surprised looks upon Charlie, Angel, and Husk's faces.

Husk nearly dropped the glasses he was cleaning, "Uh.. Say what now?"

"Excuse me, but did you just say you found the love of your life... from when you were alive?? Who the hell-" Angel started to say before Alastor walked over put his hand on your shoulder,.

"Oh, you gotta be fuckin' kidding me." Husk interrupted Angel's sentence with the most deadpan yet exasperated voice he could muster.

"Wait... you mean... Freaky face has a fuckin' WIFE???" Angel yelled out in disbelief. "What the actual FUCK? I didn't think that guy was capable of love!"

"Ahem." Static noises became louder as Alastor glared in Angel's direction.

"Alright, alright, jesus, sorry! Husk, I need a drink."

"Already on it."

Meanwhile, Charlie just stood there as still as a statue from the shock. Until she suddenly started chuckling slowly, "Ah ha... hahaha... wait... really?" She brought her hands up to her mouth, trying to hide the huge grin that was slowly forming on her face.

You nodded, "Well, not quite wife haha... I was killed before he could propose..."

"Geeze, talk about grim.."

"Why, I do say that is quite enough from the peanut gallery!" Alastor piped up, menacingly twisting his head towards the bar where Angel and Husk were.

Charlie turned to Alastor, "How come you never mentioned you had someone special before?"

"Well my dear Charlie, I am a very private person, I do not often willingly divulge personal information about myself or my life back when I was alive."

"Oh." Charlie looked down at the ground dejectedly, thinking she was closer to Alastor than to be kept at such length still.

You patted Charlie's head, "Don't worry- I'll be happy to chat with you anytime! Though I don't know if you'll have fun hearing how I killed my husband- er- before Alastor. Maybe I'll have to settle for stories about my art career!" You chuckle smiling at her.

"Jesus, she IS crazy after all."

"Takes crazy to know crazy"

"Oh, shut up."

Charlie gasps, suddenly perking up, "Oh.. MY... GOSH!! Does this mean we get to host the very first wedding at our hotel??" She squeals and gives both you and Alastor the puppy-eye look.

You link your arm through Alastor's and look up at him with an inquisitive look.

"Ahaha! Why, if it is what my dear (y/n) desires, then that is what we shall do!"

You grin and bring your left hand up and hold it out to Charlie, "We already have the rings!"

Charlie blinks blankly and her mouth hangs open holding your hand to examine the ring on your hand. Vaggie leans over to look as well, "I honestly don't know I missed that..."

After staring at the ring for a while, Charlie smacks Vaggie's arm a bunch before squeezing her in a big embrace- the sounds of her squealing excitedly filled the room.

"WE HAVE A WEDDING TO PLAN!!!!!"

-> Part 14 - Final

Tag List:

@mysticwitchcraftco @lil-bexie @lonely-burger @cherry-cola-100 @angelxx7 @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @avitute @justhellacesome @mcrtrashfan @spookysisters @galaxywing-has-adhd @ggyalruu @trashbin-nie @fudosl @night-shadowblood-writes2 @memospacexx @yuraaahs @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @ghostdoodlen @moschinski @cannibalcoyote @missam @reader3 @yourworstgf @justaproudslytherpuff @milkspong3 @xdolls-crownx @1potato2rulethemall @1rxsemary1 @xxcrispxx @zardward @robin-the-enby @mylenapony11 @silvermoondarksky @bootylimpics @amarokofficial @euphoricaphrodite @blueyobsessedgirly @need-a-therapist @knifukiller @huayan @hwrimonsjer @no1sillybilly @kimmikreates @icarus-has-falllen @watchinthestarz @lady-lik3r @yunxi-11085 @luzzbuzz @tsukilover11 @plntmxrss @houmi @demoarah @papas-ghoulette @trashbin-nie @d-darlingyourbleeding @hallothankmas

[guiltyasdave]

say you'll see me again

epilogue • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

word count: 789 (it's a smol one)

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, somewhat unhealthy relationship dynamics (in the past), daddy issues (reader’s dad sucks big time), able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, angst, but also... nice things :)

a/n: co-written with my angel @joelscurls, i love you <3

this is me officially saying goodbye to these two babies and i'm extremely emotional about it. i loooooved writing this story, it has brought me so much joy, it's my favorite thing that i've created and they really mean the world to me.

this story has received so much love and i'm beyond grateful for everyone who has read, liked, commented or reblogged <3 i hope you like this ending as much as i do.

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for updates and find jess’ masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

No one’s there to cheer you on at your graduation ceremony, no one to sit in the audience and clap when your name is being called and you walk across the stage. You didn’t invite anyone. 

A small part of you, the part that still feels like the 12 year old girl who thought that her father would love her if she only tried hard enough, had hoped that somehow he would know anyway. Would show up to surprise you. 

It’s less of a surprise that he didn’t. 

When you accept the certificate with your name on it, it gives you a grim sense of satisfaction. You’ve done it on your own. On your own terms, with your own money.

Your father had all but thrown you out of the house after seeing you leave on the security camera footage mere hours after he’d declared that you were grounded. It’s been a challenge, adjusting to the lack of his financial aid, getting by entirely on your own. It also felt like freedom, like you were finally able to breathe. 

You swallow down the bitterness that stings in your chest and rises up your throat when you watch your classmates, your friends, surrounded by their families. Proud smiles, hands on shoulders, long hugs. Fueling a longing that’s been there for as long as you can remember. It wouldn’t have been like that with your father anyway. 

You’re better off like this, with the person who, despite his insistent claims, is the one who actually brought you to this moment: Yourself. 

The buildings of the town you were raised in are surrounding you, a familiar backdrop as you make your way down the street. You don’t know why you felt the need to come here. Maybe you had to visit one last time, after leaving in a panicked rush, too hurt to dare to look back. Maybe you can say goodbye now, and your mind will stop torturing you with questions of what could have been, daydreams of scenarios that you wished had turned out differently. Maybe you can clear out the remains of the battlefield that it turned into, and finally make peace with it. 

You had wished to be able to hate David. Hate him for not wanting you, hate him for pushing you away. Hate him for the way he changed you, for showing you a connection that you haven’t been able to feel with anyone else. But you never could. 

It’s not hard to understand in hindsight, why making you leave seemed like the right thing to do for him. Looking back, you think that it actually was. Though that never made losing him hurt any less. 

If anything, you wish you could hate him because the fact that he did the right thing makes you want him more. 

The door shuts behind you and your eyes adjust to the dim light of the bar. Your shoes are sticky against the ground. It’s a far cry from the country club you used to go to. But you’re also a far cry from the girl who used to go there. No black little designer dress on your body, no expensive heels clicking against the floor. And no fear. No fear of being ignored, no fear of being talked down to, no fear of having to make yourself small. 

You’re free to be yourself, now. 

You walk towards the counter, hop up on one of the stools. It scratches against the wooden floor, mixing with the faint sound of rock music playing from a speaker in the corner. 

There’s movement beside you, the silhouette of a man caught in the corner of your eye. The drum of his fingertips against the counter. 

“Evening.” 

The wave of a memory builds up in your mind within moments, flooding your every thought. The smooth rumble of his voice. The shape of his face when you turn towards him. The strong nose, the hard line of his jaw, the permanent pout on his lips that you can still feel against yours when you try really hard to remember. The deep brown shade of his eyes that still means safety to you. 

When thinking about him, you had always pictured him somewhere new, somewhere you couldn’t reach him. It seems silly, now that he’s right here, like a piece falling into place. Of course he’s here.

Your lips pull up into a smile. No shyness, no worries of doing something that you shouldn’t. 

“Hi.”

“I’ve never seen you around here before,” he echoes back the first words you’ve ever spoken to him. He remembers, just like you. Just like he said he would. Your smile grows wider. 

You’re free to be yourself, now. 

...i'm trying really hard not to cry right now. if you enjoyed this, please consider letting me know <3

[nyx-is-missing]

Graceland too

Clarisse la rue x fem!reader (Athena's kid)

Sumarry: When a certain daughter of Athena felt unappreciated her whole life, someone was there to see her.

Warnings: Sad girl hours, shitty parenthood, hurt/comfort because im no monster and probably other things wich i forgot.

a/n: look who is back!

Demigod.

Half blood.

Half a goddess.

Half a human (?).

And yet, fully a disappointment.

When Athena sent me to my Dad's house, in a golden crib, dressed in pure white dress, glowing, how the myths would expect a demigod to be, then, and only right then i was a gift.

A piece o divine love, something to prove to him, till the end of his life, that at some point, he was good enough for a Goddess.

But days after, immediately, i was just a crying baby, hungry, with a busy father, without a mother, and that only made him remember that, that was it.

He wasnt good enough for her, she wasnt staying, she never even actually even considered, he would never have that kind of honour, only a crying baby he never expected.

I wasnt a gift anymore, it actually felt like i was a insult, everything about me started to enrage him.

And oh, how did he reminded me of that every single day of my existence.

When i got diagnosed with dyslexia all i've heard whas that Athena gave me up to him because i was defective, when i couldnt sit still during classes, and exploded with all the repression i suffered everyday, suddently i was a clock bomb, when my grades where great, i was never rewarded, it was "the least i could do, to make up for the shame that i was".

I was never loved, never wanted, never encouraged, at least not by him.

The very little love i've known in my life, i own to the people who felt pitty of me.

The teachers, the neighbours who have heard the insults, the stray animals who could sense sadness, the very old grandparents who never actually saw me more than twice a year, and the people who worked at a nerby library, who let me stay past closing time, leaving only with the cleaners.

I was 12 when he had enough and sent me to camp, literally the very day school was over.

I came home to my clothes packed and him waiting by the car keys.

Being in camp for the first time, was also the very first time in my life i have ever felt....normal.

Not good, not bad, not great, not terrible, i was one, and that was enough.

I spend that summer being quiet, i sat in the corner, i didnt spoke, i didnt interrupted, i didnt had any ideas, i wasnt good enough to do that, thats what i've been told my whole life, thats my true.

It took a whole new summer for Athena to claim me.

I have always wondered if she was fighting with herself, if she had any problems having to admit that she made a mistake, with me, or with him.

It didn't matter, for the first time i had brothers and sisters, who wanted me, who understood when i wasnt the best, who asked for my graded tests, to put up in the wall.

They understood when i was hard to crack, when i insisted in being quiet, when i wouldnt share my ideas, they understood it all.

I didn't.

Each and every new summer i spent there, all i could ask myself was:

Why could i not be great like all of them?

Why im still afraid?

Why i was still useless?

Im now sixteen and the same questions still were unanswered.

And today i felt worse than ever.

It was my birthday, and i havent got a single letter from him, nothing, nothing.

It felt like he was saying i wasnt worth anything again.

Earlier, i tried to pretend nothing was happening, smiling with my siblings, finally making plans for capture the flag, finally belonging like i promissed i would try to do that year.

My plan was used, it wasnt perfect, but it was used, and surprising myself and the other team, we won.

I could see the other team confused, and Clarisse cussing us to death.

Still i was so happy, for the first time in my life i showed myself, and i worked....partially.

The happiness of victory didnt last much in me, because i saw a new brother of mine almost bursting to tears, he was young and just got claimed a few days ago, he wasnt used to that, and he wasnt supose to get hurt, but the red that painted his arms said otherwise.

I couldnt stare at him without feeling like i failed again.

Why couldnt i be perfect for once?

I took him to infirmary and held his hand while he was getting his stiches, saying sorry all the time.

I tried thinking it was okay, people get hurt, move on.

I had diner, i took a bath, i tried to sleep, i couldnt.

The tears were falling down and i knew i wouldn't be quiet.

So i got up and walked to the cabin's porch, sitting on the last step and letting my head fall to my knees.

Why couldnt i be great?

Why couldnt i be in peace with myself?

Why couldnt my mom bless me?

Why couldnt my dad love me?

Why did he had to be so mean?

I was a kid for fucks sake.

"Are you okay?" I heard someone saying, that made me freeze, that voice was not from any of my sisters, was i crying so hard i woke up someone from other cabin?

"I- yes, sorry i didn't knew i was crying so hard to wake people from other cabins, im sorry"

"You didn't, i was sneaking out to train some more, and saw you, our cabins face each other"

That was...Clarisse?

I wiped my tears and look up, she was staring at me with a almost worried look

"Clarisse?"

"Yes, why are you crying?"

She sat down by my side, dropping a sword in the grass.

"Its nothing really, im fine, you dont need to bothe-"

"No, cut the crap" she stopped me mid sentence "no one ever weeps in the middle of the night out of happiness, you are not fine and im not letting you lie OR leave until you tell me what it is"

We stare at each other, and ill need to thank the night light being bad because i probably look like crap right now, im sure my eyes are red, my nose too, im probably with a very swollen face and id bet all the dracmas i own that my hair its no better than a nest of birds.

"Go on...tell me"

I layed myself in the stairs, looking at the sky, trying to think of a way to tell everything, without sounding crazy

"I dont deserve to be here, Clarisse."

"Here..where?"

"This cabin, i dont deserve to be called daughter of the goddess of wisdom, i dont deserve being here with them, my siblings they are great, more than good, great, they will do great things with themselfs, amazing writers, architects, brilliant musicians, historians, why am i here? Im not even good, why im with the great?"

"Wait wait wait" she made me sit down again and look at her "not even good? What are you talking about? Wasnt the strategy in the last capture the flag yours? Yall won, and if somebody asks me later i've never said this but that was good, some really good strategy, i was almost thinking of asking chiron to switch you teams, you were great, more than that, and now you're here telling me you are not egen good? Are you on drugs?"

"Clarisse you dont need to pretend you care that much, and my plan wasnt all that, my brother got hurt, that wasnt supose to happen, i failed him, if i was good enough he wouldnt even be there"

She had a very confused look on her face, like she really did not knew what i was talking about.

"You're not talking about the little boy you took to the infirmary and that small cut in his forearm are you? Cause that boy was far from almost dying like you are making it sound like-" she looked at my eyes, i didnt needed a mirror to have sure how i was, i've seen myself like that too much to count, everytime my dad said i wasnt good enough, sad, lifeless.

"I failed again Clarisse, im not good enough to be here, im useless, worthless"

She looked at me and did the last thing i tought she would, Clarisse hugged me.

"Dont say that, c'mon, worthless? I've seen you fight, i've seen your plans, you dont talk much but i've heard your ideas, you are far from being useless or worthless, who the fuck told you that?"

"My f- you heard me?" I looked at her, only to see a look i couldnt distinguish "what do you mean?"

She looked at her own feet, then at her sword, reflecting the moonlight.

"You really dont know?" She looks at me "i- well, i've heard you, the same way i see you everyday, thats how i know you like morning walks, sweet green grapes, baked goods...how i know you are probably the only child of Athena who has never read "the art of war", that you walk without looking at peoples faces....its weird, i've seen you so much throughout this years and it feels like this is the first time you are actually seeing me"

"But i've saw you before-"

"Thats not what i was saying, you looked at me many times, but did you ever saw me until today?"

I looked at her blinking, and after a moment of silent i said "you like dark chocolate, and lemon flavoured soda, and sneaking out to train when the harpies take their breaks, by the way you missed that, and you always ask for double the quantity of food you eat, so when you burn it you still can eat enough, by the way i stole that idea-"

She is smilling, big, really big, i think i am too.

Of course i saw Clarisse, who wouldnt, she was strong, brave, beautiful, to me was a wonder she didnt had people running to get her attention.

She got closer to me "does that mean i can-" i stopped her mid sentence again

"Maybe..."

"Im going to make you forget that "im not good enough" nonsense, belive me"

She is smilling while kissing me, and i am too.

[20nugs]

Oblivious (Chris Sturniolo)

Spin off of: Tone Deaf by @d0wnt0wnstu4n1ol0

a/n: yes, I got permission for this🤓

summary: request

-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-

I sit on the triplet's couch, watching TV. I check the time. 10:00 PM, the clock reads. A whole hour after Chris usually gets home from a meeting. I sigh and tap my foot, hoping he's alright. He hasn't answered my texts, but I've heard from Nick that this meeting is particularly long and heavy.

My eyes light up as I hear the door being unlocked and shoved open. Chris enters first, his hair unruly as ever and head tilted down. A sharp scowl overtakes his usually laid-back features.

"Hey baby, how was it?" I ask, standing up and smiling. My brow furrows and a frown tugs at my lips as instead of pulling me into a hug like he always does, Chris walks swiftly past me without even sparing me a glance. Concerned, I try to follow him, only to be tugged back by a hand on my wrist. I turn to see Nick, holding me back.

"Give him some space," he says quietly. "He's stressed out, we all are." He releases my wrist with a sigh.

"Oh," I mumble, plopping back down on their couch. Nick follows my action and rubs his face with his hands. He lets his hands fall and turns to me with a tired smile.

"What do you want to watch?"

---

It's been around two hours since Chris ignored me at the door, and I've been watching TV with Nick the whole time, Matt opting to go to his room like Chris did. Now, Nick is asleep on the couch, his feet in my lap. I chew on my bottom lip as I check the time. 12:02 AM. I sigh and gently push Nick's feet off of me. I quietly creep my way up the stairs and stand in front of Chris's door. I see a dim light coming from the crack beneath it. I take a deep breath and slowly push open his door.

Chris sits at his desk, his head in one of his hands, a look of deep concentrated on his features as he stares at his computer, clicking away with his free hand. The computer is the only thing lighting up his room, straining on my eyes. I gently shut the door behind me.

"Hi Chris," I say softly, taking a few steps towards him. I stand there, playing with my fingers as I wait for his response.

"Hi," he says, his voice monotone and blunt. I chew on my lip, worried. He never acts like this, not even when he's angry.

"How... how was the meeting?" I ask quietly. I inch closer to him reaching out a hand to rest on his back. He doesn't look at me, his stare still focused on his computer. It looks like he's working on his videos and deals.

"Fine," he answers. His voice is monotone still, with an edge to it. I can tell that if I say anything else it'll annoy him. But I continue anyways.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" I ask, my eyebrows pinched together.

"Oh my God, are you fucking oblivious?" He asks angrily, standing from his desk chair. "Obviously I don't want to talk right now, just leave me the fuck alone!"

Hurt contorts my features as I stare back at him. I watch his face drop from the angry expression he had before to a look of realization and panic.

"Wait baby, I didn't mean that-" he starts reaching out to grab my hand, but I ignore him as he ignored me before and push past him, tears brimming at my eyes as I slam his door behind me and jog down the stairs. I can hear a distant 'fuck' from his room, and his door opening. I rush past Nick in the living room and open their front door. Nick is sat up, his sleepiness still evident on his face.

"What hap-" I hear Nick begin speaking but before he can answer I slam their front door behind me and get in my car, backing out of their driveway and flooring the gas to get back to my own house.

Speeding through the neighborhood, I pull over for a moment to wipe the tears from my eyes that are blurring my eyesight. I softly drop my head onto my steering wheel as I cry. Chris never snaps at me, never. I finally sit up and wipe the tears from my eyes and resume driving. I stop for gas on the way home, but as soon as I pull up to my driveway, I know I'm not alone.

I squint at my house. I didn't leave any lights on, so why is my living room window lit up?

My heart pounds as I clutch at the pepper spray in my purse, gently closing my car door. I make my way up to my front door and hold out my pepper spray as I quietly open my door. I let out a silent breath of relief as I see that it's only Chris inside, sitting at my dinner table, seemingly distressed. My relief is short-lived as I remember the events of only around an hour ago. Just as I'm about to leave, Chris notices me. "Wait," he calls out, his voice hoarse. "Please, don't go." There's a quiver in his voice that causes me to hesitate long enough for him to grab my wrist, preventing me from leaving. "Please," he whispers. "I'm so sorry... I shouldn't have snapped at you. It was wrong, and I feel awful."

I finally meet his eyes for the first time today, noticing how bloodshot they are and the dark circles beneath them. A flood of concern and empathy for him fills my body, but there's still hurt and anger. "You yelled and cussed at me," I mumble, looking away from him. In the corner of my eye I see his shoulders droop and his head lower. I take a deep breath. "But you were also stressed," I continue, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek delicately, "and I forgive you." He smiles softly and leans into my touch, pressing a kiss to my palm. He pulls me in for a passionate kiss, conveying his emotions through it. He breaks it to squish me against him in a warm embrace, burying his face into my hair.

"Can I sleep here tonight?" He asks quietly.

"Of course you can," I whisper, leading him into my bedroom and towards my bed. We both flop down and I cuddle up against him, feeling his smile against my forehead.

"I love you," he mumbles sleepily, tightening his arms around me. I smile and press a kiss to his cheek.

"I love you too," I whisper as we slowly drift off to sleep.

[oceangirllll-26]

¡TW ED RANT!

Guys I haven't been able to stop crying for the past 20 minutes because I feel so disgusting. I binged after when I came home which is pissing me off and I have a fun event to go to tomorrow that I've been looking forward to and I just feel so bloated and obese and looking at all these 2000s models and t$po makes me feel so stupid and weak and ugly and fat and I want to end it right now. I find it so frustrating that I'll be in a mind set of not eating to be super skinny but it never lasts long and I say life's too short to not eat what I want. So I eat what I want and undo all my work only to look in the mirror and think life's too short to hate your body and THE WHOLE PROCESS STARTS OVER. And each time I've ended up at a higher weight than last time. ITS DRIVING ME INSANE AND NOTHING SEEMS TO KEEP ME DISCIPLINED FOR LONGER THAN 12 HOURS. GUYS I REALLY NEED SOME HELP, ADVICE, MOTIVATION ANYTHING BECAUSE I CANT LIVE LIKE THIS.

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 748: The sixth and seventh place

Pag 1

1: Keep it up, Rokudai!!

It's past 9pm!!

2: Three hours left....!!

Until we complete the 1000km... there are still

3: 60km!!

Yeah!!

Pag 2

1: 20km in an hour... if we can run 4 laps per hour, we can do it!!

We can reach 1000km!!

Pag 3

1: Yeah!!

4: We can do it!!

Yeah!!

5: Gooo!! Do your best!!

55km left!! Go!!

Will their bottles be enough....

6: Those two can do it

Will they really complete the 1000km? Kinaka and Rokudai

Even though they're first years!!

Pag 4

1: There was also a moment where he seemed to be having a tough time, but Kinaka encouraged him

They looked so fired up now, right!?

They got back up!!

The look in their eyes was terrific!!

2: Sugimoto ran with determination

3: But... this fight is...

He... Sugimoto knows all that well

He's fighting understanding that

4: Kuaaaa

5: Garuaaa

Pag 5

1: It was probably the same for Danchiku

2: Danchiku watched Sohoku running for two years

And Sugimoto for three years....!!

4: So they chose that race!!

Pag 6

1: They chose to fight!!

3: Are you an idiot... Sugimoto

4: If you ... wanted to run with me at our third and last Inter High, you could have stuck behind me, easily, and take the goal that way

5: and become... a member... the “sixth man”

Pag 7

1: You chose a harsh way

2: You were thinking about the team....

4: You were thinking about what you needed to do....

5: That's just like you....

6: You know, Imaizumi, I think, I think it's necessary

7: For our third Inter High members this year, we definitely....!!

Pag 8

2: It's 10pm!!

40km left!!

Pag 9

2: Yeah!!

4: We can do it, Rokudai!!

Yeah!

Let's go, Rokudai!!

Yeah!

5: I confirmed it earlier when we passed through the goal – it's good news, so be glad!!

Yeah!

6: Good news!? Teh!?

7: We have already surpassed the third year Sugimoto-san!!

Pag 10

1: Huh!?

Is he resting? Or is he preserving his strength? We don't know, but anyway it looks like right now Sugimoto-san isn't on the course!!

2: For now, we....

3: Are sixth and seventh place

The “sixth place”....

4: Will become one of the Inter High members!!

Pag 11

1: Mem....

Really!?

2: Wait, teh, I'm getting dizzy

That... wouldn't that be amazing, teh!?

3: It's an hypothesis but, even if Sugimoto-san wants to chase us from here on, there's a “surpassing ban board”, so if we keep running then he can't catch up to us!!

And we'll secure the “sixth place”!!

4: You're so smart, Kinaka-kun!!

5: Right?!

6: Waaaa

A member... it's almost within reach, teh.... that's incredible, teh...!!

Pag 12

1: I'm so glad, teh, Kinaka-kun!!

Yeah!!

No, it's too soon to cry!!

2: I'm so glad we kept on running

There are still 40km left!! Don't lose your pace!!

3: Tears are for after the finish line!!

4: Ahh, it's here, teh... a blan comment, it's been a while

Oi!! I cheer you up and yet you hit me!!

5: But now it touches my heart!!

It's thanks to your encouragement, Kinaka-kun, that I arrived here, teh!!

6: Uhm!!

Pag 13

1: Let's aim for the Inter High!!

Yeah!!

3: Go

4: Go, Rokudai

Pag 14

1: It's only 40km left.... you can do it on your own, Rokudai

2: It hurts-!!

3: I reached my limit for the pain

All the “let's go”, “let's do it” and the encouragement were to deceive you

4: I had to

I've been having leg cramps for a while

5: The “Inter High”

6: Even though it's right before my eyes

It's so frustrating

Pag 15

2: Wha- Rokudai

You moved back before I noticed...

3: If you're tired and need to slow down, tell me it, teh

I'll push you and help you!!

4: Don't underestimate the “helping ability” of a former manager, teh!!

Pag 16

1: Rokudai!!

5: Rokudaiii!!

6: You mean to say “let's still go”!?

7: Is it connecting possibilities? Rokudai's hand!!

Pag 17

1: Don't cry, Kinaka Tsugunao, crying is for after the finish line!!

2: Ah!!

3: Alright, the climb is over, I'll pull you on the downhill!!

4: Yeah, teh!!

Pag 18

1: Waa-teh!? Suddenly I can't keep my balance!!

2: Rokudai!?

3: A flat tire!!

4: Huh, a flat tire!?

Your tires are screaming for the 1000km

Ahh

Dammit!! Mechanical troubles in a time like this!!

5: The tools to repair a flat tire are only at the goal!!

But with a flat tire, on the downhill....!!

We have no choice but to push it slowly downhill!!

Pag 19

1: Hurry!!

2: Ugh-

3: If we go so slow, Sugimoto-san might come!!

4: Sugimoto-san is chasing us, teh!!

Pag 20

1: Sugimoto won't come

2: I've come to bring you a message from Sugimoto

[agirlwithdemonblood]

The Celebrity Next Door: Chapter 11 - Broken Glass, Mended Hearts

Pairings: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Chapter Summary: Jensen reaches out to Y/N, regretting everything that was said and done.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of injuries, panic and tears.

Series Masterlist here!! & Main masterlist here!

When I was 12, I broke my leg.

I remember crying so hard, thinking the pain would never end. It was the worst pain I've ever experienced, and I was terrified I'd never get better, but I did.

Whenever I faced pain-physical or emotional, I always reminded myself; nothing hurt as much as my broken leg. It always helped me push through.

But this new type of pain was unlike anything i've experienced before. My heart felt shattered, my body numb, and my mind screaming like it never has before. This pain made my broken leg seem minor. It terrified me, making me doubt if i could ever recover.

There was no cast for this kind of hurt. I didn't know where to begin.

I'm not sure how long it had been since I left Jensen's, but the setting sun and creeping night suggested it was well into the evening. I hadn't moved from my spot against the wall, too scared and shocked to stand. The tears had finally stopped, leaving me sitting there empty and broken.

His words echoed in my head. "Maybe it's true." Deep down, I always knew I wasn't worth it. I wasn't enough.

Who was I kidding?

He was a celebrity, and I was just me-ordinary, with no interesting job, no talents, not even looking as attractive as the other girls around. I had fooled myself into thinking I could ever be with someone like him.

Anxiety rose, and I closed my eyes tightly, trying to block out the thoughts. I considered going outside for air, or a change of scenery, but I couldn't bring myself to move.

Glancing at my legs stretched out in front of me, I noticed the pool of blood beneath my foot. Right-the glass. I didn't bother to check or bandage it after I removed it.

As soon as I got home, I collapsed against the wall in a flood of tears, my emotions overwhelming me like an earthquake. I sighed deeply, slowly returning to reality as exhaustion set in.

Loud knocking on the door made me flinch, but I stayed put, unwilling to see anyone or get up. The knocking persisted, I knew who it was, but I couldn't face him. Not like this.

The house fell silent, the knocking ceased. Then a new sound filled my ears. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping.

Over and over again.

Rolling my eyes, I reached into my sweater and grabbed my phone with slightly shanking hands. Tears welled up as I saw Jensen's name, along with multiple messages.

Pulling myself off the floor, a small whimper escaped my lips as the wound on my heel touched the wood. I staggered to the door, my heart pounding, anxiety rising. I wasn't ready to face him, especially after everything that had been said. It was humiliating.

I slowly unlocked the door and opened it, keeping my head down. I only knew he was there by the sight of his shoes, and the hitch in his breath upon seeing me.

Turning away from him, I limped back to the wall where I had spent the past hours, sliding back into my spot. His footsteps followed me, slow but determined, until he stood right in front of me.

He let out a heartbreaking sight, his hand gently turning my foot towards him. I debated hiding from him, but I knew he wouldn't leave until he knew I was okay.

He winced and gasped as his his eyes met the wound on my heel, "Fuck, this must really hurt." he whispered.

I remained silent.

He stood and walked to my kitchen. The sound of the tap running and drawers opening caught my attention, filling me with guilt. Here he was again, taking care of me, forced back into my life out of pity.

I didn't even realize he had returned until my foot was lifted onto his lap, causing me to hiss in pain.

Almost inaudibly, he mumbled, "Sorry." the word heavy with a different kind of weight. His eyes remained focused on the task, furrowing his eyebrows in concentration so adorably, that it was frustrating.

The longer we sat in silence, the heavier the tension grew. Every gentle touch of his fingers on my skin intensified the twinge of heartbreak.

With a sigh, he finished his work, patting my foot gently before standing to clean up the torn bandage wrappers and bloody tissues.

I stayed still, head low, avoiding his gaze as best as I could. I knew if I looked into his eyes, I'd dissolve into a puddle of sadness and tears.

He returned, crouching inches away from where I sat. I swallowed hard, the words threatening to spill out, the only three I wanted to say, but that wouldn't be fair. He spoke first.

"Are you going to leave me?" he whispered, his voice trembling.

I turned slightly, swallowing hard. "You should be the one leaving me, not the other way around."

He shook his head, his hand moving to my knee with such tenderness I almost didn't feel it. "You did nothing wrong. I don't want us to end, but I know how badly I messed up..."

I wiped a tear from my eye, frowning. "You only spoke the truth."

He moved closer, his hands finding my cheeks, gently turning my face to meet his tear-filled eyes. I almost broke down at the sight.

"Please! Please believe me when I say that what I said was the furthest thing from the truth. I know I can't take it back, and I know I hurt you, but I'm the one who doesn't deserve you. I'm the one whos fucked up."

I shook my head, tears streaming down. I desperately wanted to believe him, knowing he didn't mean to hurt me. But deep down, I still felt unworthy. I knew a celebrity like him would never fall for someone like me.

"No, your not fucked up. You're everything. You're handsome, smart, talented... I'm nothing."

A sob escaped him, and I turned to face him directly as he broke down. "You're everything Y/N. I'm sorry you can't see it, and I'm sorry I'm part of the reason why but you... God. I can't even describe how much I love you."

I froze as his words broke through my defenses, finally one of us said those three words we both feared. I moved closer, my hand finding his knee as I stared into his tear-soaked green eyes. "What?"

He shook his head, wiping his eyes. "I love you. I love you more than anything. I messed up, I know that. I got scared... so scared you were going to leave me."

"Why would you ever think that?" I whispered.

"Because when you came back after talking to her, I thought it was over. I thought she convinced you to leave me, just like she did. Even though I was with her for a long time, I've never felt this much love for someone. When you said you wanted to go home, I thought it was the end. I lashed out, and it was wrong. I can't apologize enough..."

I stared in awe at the man before me, feeling relief wash over me. I knew he was right; he didn't mean it. And as much as I still doubted my worth, I knew he would love me despite it all.

I grabbed his arm, pulling him closer, smiling at the slight confusion on his face. I climbed onto his lap, wrapping my arms around him tightly, refusing to let him break. His head rested against the crook of my neck as sobs racked his body.

"I'm sorry... I'm so fucking sorry Y/N." He cried out, breaking my heart with his pain.

I nodded, kissing his head. "I know. I'm sorry too."

He lifted his head, gazing into my eyes. "For what?"

"For not telling you sooner. I love you so much, Jensen."

I saw his heart skip a beat, a small smile spreading across his lips. "You do?"

"I do."

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Chapter 11 coming soon stay tuned!

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

[inlovewithregencyera]

transcript under cut : )

Thornfield House, July 7th, 1818

Isabella: And you did write to her father informing him of this, right?

Max: Yes. He wrote back to me an hour ago, and they're leaving for Hollow directly after her birthday. I've asked him to keep this in confidence of himself and Lady Grey, and he says he will as it would break his heart to tell Aurelia himself.

Isabella: *clutching hand* When will you tell her?

Max: I don't know, and I don't know why you're all tasking me with the impossible. It's not fair, truly. *sniffling* If I had a lover and I lay dying of consumption I wouldn't have Frederick tell her. It should be an intimate moment between them.

Isabella: I think she shall be very upset.

Maximilian: *voice quivering* She'll be plagued with perturbation. Perhaps it would be easier if that idiot thought about how his actions effected others for once in his damn life. He overwhelmed her with affection and now I must tell her he's dying.

Isabella: Oh, please don't cry. More than anything, I hate seeing you upset. I don't care much for people's emotions, but yours always tug at my heart.

Max: Luckily for you I have no more tears left to cry. My eyes have been soiled with tears for the past 12 hours, I believe I'm done for today.

Isabella: Dear Max, crying that long isn't good for-

Max: Don't you stand here and tell me what's good for me and what's not. I don't expect you to understand. You've rarely been emotional a day in your life.

Isabella: have been emotional many times in my life, I just know that crying *THAT MUCH AT ONCE* does you no service!

Max: *scoffs* You are heartless sometimes, you know?

Isabella: How am I heartless for telling you the truth?

Max: I cannot help crying if I am again watching someone I love die.

Isabella: *scoffs* He's not dead! And there have been cases where people overcame this disease.

Max: And you think he will be an exception?! That he's some sort of miracle and will prevail through?

Isabella: He could be. Why you've given up on him I do not know.

Max: He's given up on himself! Why should I have hope for his survival if he's not going to even fight for it!?

Isabella: Because he's family, Max! You don't give up on someone even when they've given up on themself. When Eleanor gave up on herself, you-

Max: Damn it don't you bring her up. I told you I was done crying for today, so stop wherever you're going.

Isabella: Your tears won't bring her back, so what use is it?

Max: You are heartless! When you love someone, and they die-

Isabella: Damn you Max if you are trying to insinuate I didn't love her! I loved her more than anyone ever to walk this Earth!

Max: That's not at all what I meant Isabella and you know that! I just can't believe you're telling me that I shouldn't cry now. Name a time when any one of our household was dying and I didn't?

Isabella: When Uncle Percy had a stroke! He was as good as gone right after and I don't recall you ever shedding any tears then. And there's hope for Frederick, he's not coughing blood.

Max: Frederick is much thinner than the last time I saw him and that cough tops it all off. So no, I will not tell myself there's any hope. And I apologize for not crying in front of my sickly, invalid Father, SOMEONE had to be strong for him.

Isabella: Are you saying I wasn't Maximilian? Really? When you went off to do Ducal business and whatnot who sat with him that whole time until you returned? I endeavored just about as much as you to ensure his comfort, *voice cracking* and how can you accuse me of not being strong when you and I suffered the same trials?

Max: Bell…

Isabella: WHAT?! *covering eyes*

Max: I didn't mean to upset you, dear. I'm sorry, and you're right, we experienced the same sorrow. Perhaps we go about it differently when reacting to it.

Isabella: *sniffling* It just hurts that you'd call me heartless for saying crying does you no good. I'm not saying you shouldn't cry, because Lord knows I have moments sometimes, but I know it's not helpful in the long run. He's not dead yet, t-that is to say, *eyes welling up* if he was truly dying, *burts into tears* in which he is-

Max: *extending arms* Come here.

Isabella: *sobbing into chest* Oh Max! Whatever will we do?

Max: *kisses forehead* What we always do I suppose. Deal with whatever God throws at us.

Isabella: *sniffles* Yes. Let us not quarrel as we shall need each other more than ever in the coming weeks.

[doumadono]

Emergency Request.

Hi author, i finally have the courage to share this. These past few years, I've been dealing with academic pressure, means im expected to be in the Honor's list. Every single morning i get yelled at especially when i didn't wake up early (my class starts at 12 noon till 6:30 in the evening) im really tired and yesterday morning, my mom threw a chair at my room because i wake up late. My heart was really really heavy that time and so i decided that i had enough. So while my mom was taking a bath, i stole money from her wallet, just wiped my body with wipes and got dressed. She thought that I'll be heading to school early so she didn't mind. When i left my home i got to my phone and searched 'psychologists near me'. It took me 3 hours to find a clinic that was open for people who didn't have appointments. Fast forward, hours later i arrived at the clinic and got consulted by a psychologist. Before the psychologist ask me what's wrong, believe me or not i already cried hard, cried and cried and told him all the unspoken pain i kept for years. To sum it up, they called my parents and consulted them too. I was a minor that time and it was already late so they really had to call my parents.

I only went to this route since i had no one to talk and cry on. With that being said, can i request todoroki comforting someone? Maybe the reader had the same situation as me but had no one to turn to except todoroki?

(This happened last year when i was at the 11th Grade. I finished my medications months ago and feeling more happy :))))

Embrace of warmth and chill - Shoto x Reader

A/N: it takes incredible strength to open up about such struggles, and I commend you for taking that courageous step. Remember that seeking help is a sign of resilience, not weakness. I'm glad you reached out to a psychologist, and I hope the support you receive brings you the understanding and guidance you deserve

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

In the quiet sanctuary of his room, Todoroki Shoto sat on the bed, contemplating the gentle dance of shadows on the walls. The soft glow of his desk lamp provided a muted atmosphere, and his mind lingered on the words he had just heard. The door creaked open, and there you stood, a silhouette worn down by the weight of unspoken pain.

His heterochromatic eyes caught the glimpse of your eyes, mirroring a storm of emotions. Without a word, he gestured for you to sit beside him. The silence lingered for a moment, heavy with the unspoken burden you carried. Finally, you broke the quietude, your voice barely above a whisper as you began to share the weight you had been carrying.

Todoroki listened intently, his expression a canvas of empathy and understanding. The warmth of his presence enveloped you, providing a sanctuary in the storm that raged within. As you recounted the struggles, the academic pressures, and the desperation that led you to this very room, he remained a steadfast anchor.

"I… I just needed someone to hear me out," you admitted, your voice cracking with vulnerability. "It's so, oh so hard, Shoto…"

He nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the pain you had endured alone. "I understand," Todoroki responded, his words carrying a genuine sincerity that reached the depths of your weary soul.

A subtle touch of his hand on your shoulder offered comfort, a silent reassurance that you were not alone in this moment. "Sometimes, it's okay to let others share the burden," he said, his voice a soothing balm to your wounded spirit.

In the quiet of that room, Todoroki found the right words, a delicate balance of empathy and strength. "I may not fully understand what you've been through, but I'm here for you, always," he affirmed, his stoic demeanor softened by the genuine concern etched across his features.

As the weight of your confessions lifted, tears streamed down your face, an emotional release long overdue. Todoroki handed you a tissue. "It's alright to cry. It doesn't make you weak," he reassured, his eyes reflecting a depth of understanding that transcended mere sympathy as he rubbed your shoulders.

Through the tears and the shared vulnerabilities, a connection blossomed. Todoroki, often reserved, found himself opening up in return. He spoke of his own struggles, the internal battles that defined his journey. The vulnerability he shared created a bridge, a connection that went beyond words.

"You don't have to steal moments of solace. There are people who care about you, who want to help you carry the load. And I'm among them."

The air in Todoroki's room seemed to shimmer with a subtle blend of warmth and chill as you found yourself wrapped in his embrace. As his arms enveloped you, you couldn't help but marvel at the duality of his touch. One side of him radiated a soothing coolness, while the other emanated a gentle warmth. It was a sensation that defied logic, a tangible representation of the conflicting elements within him.

You nestled into the crook of his embrace, your head finding a comfortable spot against his chest. The coolness seeped through your clothes, sending a refreshing wave across your body. Simultaneously, the warmth from his other side cocooned you in a comforting embrace, creating a delicate equilibrium.

His breath, a gentle rhythm, whispered against your hair, and you closed your eyes, savoring the unique symphony of sensations.

Todoroki's grip tightened ever so slightly, as if he sought solace in the physical connection just as much as you did. His usually reserved demeanor melted away in this shared moment, replaced by a silent understanding that transcended words. "It's okay. I promise that brighter days lay ahead."

[asfodelle]

Hello, hello, here's the first scene of the one-shot I've been writing the last few months. It's about a 'He Tian is involved in the mob and returns occasionally tho feelings never leave' situationship neither can walk out of, Mo is a boxer, there's a touch of religious themes, made myself cry writing it, it's a blast.

1. May 5th 7:12 p.m. - Bell

Before leaving the car, He Tian lets out a long sigh, blowing smoke. He should probably get to praying.

The door snaps shut, echoing in the small street he parked in. Past the intersection he hears kids chatting, going home for dinner maybe. He Tian takes a second to watch himself in the reflection of his tinted windows. He readjusts the collar of his shirt, brushes his pants wrinkled from the long hours of driving, throws his hair backwards and the damp air soon gets him to fold his sleeves up. He doesn’t look so bad, he thinks. Tired. He rubs his face with both hands to bring back some color to his cheeks, then under his eyes as if he could dim the blue tint that’s been settling there, but it doesn’t have very conclusive results. He starts walking.

The entrance of the old warehouse is slightly different from the last time he’s seen it. It looks more welcoming, but it might just be a trick of the light. The peach clouds of the spring evening just paint a nicer ambiance than the grey winter sky did, last January. The gates have been adorned by new tags that have been sprayed on top of the old faded ones and there are flyers encouraging people to join the Sunday mass down the street glued all over, though they don’t reach very high. He Tian imagines a troop of old women roaming the streets, spreading the holy word but his little game of guesswork doesn’t help him relax one bit. 

He gets in front of the door, a smaller entrance within the large sealed gate that used to let trucks in and out of the warehouse. He grips the handle for a second, takes a long inhale and gets in. His eyes slowly adjust to the dimmer lighting but he quickly notes that, contrary to its facade, the inside of the place hasn’t changed much since the last time he saw it. Between high walls of concrete and sheets of metal lie mismatched sets of equipment. Barbells, slick black punching bags, discolored benches of various sorts, a couple old bikes in the back, punch mitts forgotten over a pile of cardboards. A few training boxing rings give shape to the room, the space between them gives the illusion of corridors. The walls are covered in overlapping posters, the grey disrupted by layers on layers of paint and graffitis that even cover the high windows. They let small rays of tinted light in like the stained glass of a church, though the candles are replaced by tens of flickering LEDs lights. There are a few people here and there, busy with dumbbells or talking in their little spot but the room is so wide they can’t be heard. Stairs crawl by the walls leading to more rooms and places He Tian had never been to. Music resonates, low and muffled from a speaker somewhere in a corner.

In the middle of the room stands another ring, a bright red one standing higher than the rest, with white thick cords. When He Tian sees him, he’s sat there, on the side of the wooden platform the red ring rests on. He's listening attentively to a trio of teenagers, leaning backwards on his hands. 

Guan Shan had taken a liking to boxing in high school. A good outlet, he said, one that taught him to measure his emotions. It stuck through the years and he’s been great at it. Then he started giving advice to newcomers, to give some of spare time to help young blood he saw himself in and slowly it transformed into actual lessons and training sessions he holds after work. These kids have been coming here for a couple years now, He Tian remembers them. They are reenacting punches and kicks, arguing and giggling over different combinations and they turn to their coach for approval whenever they get a new idea. He nods along and fixes their posture a couple times, something soft in his eyes. He looks beautiful. Toned and pale as ever, the bare skin of his chest clashes with the black shorts and the tattoos that spangle his body. He Tian stands close to the entrance, leaning cross-armed, his shoulder against a pillar and keeps on watching over him though he struggles to truly appreciate the contrast of colors due to the fifth character in the scene.

A guy he doesn’t know is sitting close to Guan Shan, too close. His hair is an ugly shade of bleached blond and he keeps looking at Guan Shan whenever he speaks with big dumb eyes, mouth agape and enamored. He looks young, but maybe He Tian only feels so much older than his age. He looks stupid.

He Tian hasn’t moved but Guan Shan suddenly lifts his head and catches him right away, as if he’d known all along where he was hiding. The way his eyes widen for a second betray his surprise however but he quickly regains control over his face. It seems like he excuses himself from his little group, the blonde argues something, he wants to follow but he’s brushed away by a dismissing hand.

Guan Shan glances back to He Tian’s shadowy corner and starts moving towards the closed rooms in the back of the building, grabbing a few boxes on the way. He Tian traces behind him with a confident walk and ignores how all of his body stiffens with apprehension, every single muscle a little too tight. Guan Shan enters the room first and He Tian follows a few seconds after. He closes the door behind them. The handle creaks and his hands are sweaty.

It’s not quite messy in here, but the little office room is packed. The desk is covered with stacks of papers, cardboard boxes are neatly piled up in the back of the room; some are already opened and uncover the gloves, the tapes and bandages they hold. The window is open too, letting in the noise of the city. Guan Shan sets the boxes he carried over on top of one of the piles and gets to fumbling in his bag, almost turning his back to the door where He Tian stands.

« Hi. » he tries, and braces himself for what’s coming. 

« You know it’s fucking weird creeping in corners like this? »

He Tian pinches his lips in a thin line.

« Why are you here? » Guan Shan asks then, still busying himself in his bag. He doesn’t sound angry, just a little cold, maybe annoyed at the disturbance.

« I’ve got some business to handle in town. »

« I thought you were abroad until September. » Guan Shan muses, finding the shirt he seemed to be looking after, a large black one. He Tian follows his hands and notices he has splatters of white and red paint over his forearms, his short nails are stained too.

« The schedule is never really steady. » 

Guan Shan scoffs. He Tian know that’s a first warning but he can’t help but focus on the way his muscles jolt, on the way they flex as he flips the shirt over. He tries to not lose his eyes on the curve of his biceps. It’s a struggle. 

« I negotiated a little. » He adds « Took over Cheng’s spot. »

Little negotiations that involved a precarious alliance, three weeks of tailing for intel and a couple of threats. It was worth it.

Carefully, He Tian moves away from the door, closer to Guan Shan. He probably shouldn’t, definitely shouldn’t yet he lifts a hand and reaches out to touch his bare back. Guan Shan freezes.

« I wanted to see you. » he explains, voice low as his knuckles trace the bumps of Guan Shan’s spine. It’s daring. It might earn him a hook but the pull is magnetic.

As their routine dictates, they hadn’t parted in very good terms the last time and for that, coming back to him is always a gamble. A game of Russian roulette even and quite a dangerous version of it; one where he never even knew how many bullets were hidden in the cylinder, each of them taking a different shape. At times He Tian had handled days of scowling looks and a soft kiss that had left him bleeding out, he had received sharp words from petty fights without wincing but just the weight of Guan Shan’s rehearsed indifference could pierce his lungs and leave him breathless. He will take the hits, he does not care. It’s a game they’ve played for years now and as long as the other still accepts to pull the trigger on him, he’d take anything. After all, He Tian is the one who bound the gun to his hand in the first place.

A punch never lands this time. Guan Shan sighs, his shoulders drop then he turns around and throws his arms around He Tian’s neck, knocking the air out of him all the same. He Tian holds back tightly, and finally breathes out, his fingertips digging into hot freckled skin.

« I missed you. » He Tian whispers. What a fucking understatement. 

The arms around his neck tighten in response, only for a brief second before they hear loud noise by the door. Their embrace ends as quick as it started, Guan Shan stepping back and turning to put on the shirt he had discarded a second ago. He glares at the door, expecting it to open at any moment but thankfully, the people outside only pass by. 

« I’m training the kids all evening, and there’s a party at eleven, but I don’t think it’ll stay long. » Guan Shan says when the room has quieted down enough. 

« I’ll pick you up then. »

Guan Shan nods. That should be He Tian’s cue to leave, he has a couple things to settle tonight anyway but the other looks as if he’s pondering over something. He Tian catches how amber eyes roam over his face, for a brief moment they even settle on his mouth, but then return to the door. 

« Get lost. » he tells He Tian, tilting his head towards the door but there’s no bite into it.

When He Tian gets back to the car, his cheeks hurt. In the tinted window, his smile might look shy but it’s wider than it’s been in the last four months.

[urmom2bitch]

I love you (C.S)

A/N: This is my first ficccc I honestly don't like it but Yolo. Also this was supposed to be an angst but it kinda changed to a fluff!

Warnings⚠️!!!: Crying, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex, cursing, use of y/n and yeah I think that's!

It's around 12 am and Chris went to another part without me this week all because according to him I would ruin his chances with the girls.

"Look kid I know the past few party's I've gone to I told you you couldn't come but, I kinda wanna get laid and you'll scare the bitches away"

"Jesus Chris don't get too drunk please"

"you know I will" Chris laughs as he walks out the door

Cute little time skip

After 2 hours of sitting in Chris's room Nick barged in.

"bitch there's no way he went to another party without you to get pussy" He said almost yelling

"it's not a big deal, Nick He has needs"

"I'm not dealing with his drunk ass tonight kid."

After that we hung out and watched a movie till we heard

"Go fuck yourself bitch!" Followed by a car door slamming

All three of us instantly ran outside knowing it was Chris.

"Holy shit Chris what the fuck happened!" Nick yelled at the top of his lungs

"this really big dude got told me he was gonna hurt y/n if I kept talking to her so I hit him and fuck he hit back" he stumbled over his worlds as he talked with tears falling down his face

"baby I'm sorry I didn't let you come with me" Chris said in-between sobs

I couldn't even process what he said before I spoke

"it's okay Hun c'mon let's get you to bed"

After I cleaned Chris up I laid him down so he could go to sleep.

"Y/n I think I love you" he spoke as he opened his eyes slightly

"well we've been best friends since we were 5 I wouldn't expect less" I laughed while playing with his hair

"No Y/n I love you I really do" he said trying not to stutter

"Say that when you're sober hunny" I laughed slightly

"N-no y/n I mean it I really do I really fuckin do" he started crying again and sat up looking me in the eyes

"it's easy for you to say that now but you are also very drunk and you need to sleep hunny. We can talk in the morning" I said wiping his tears

"fine"

A/n- I borderline hate this but oh well 😭😭

@lustfulslxt

[andiatas]

15 people, 15 questions

Thanks for tagging me @queen-of-boops & @sparxaf 🥰

1) Are you named after anyone?

Nope.

2) When was the last time you cried?

This past night, I got the brilliant idea to, at 00:30, read a Chenford fanfic where Lucy died & Tim had a full breakdown. You can find it here if you also want to have cry xx

3) Do you have kids?

Does my dog count? Yes, yes, she does. So yeah, I do have one kid.

4) What sports do you play/have you played?

I did horseback riding for a little over 11 years.

5) Do you use sarcasm?

I'm fluent in it (imagine me doing a hair flip here)

6) What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Good question... I would say hair or outfit.

7) What’s your eye colour?

Blueish-grey.

8) Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings, 100%! You're talking to someone who found Scream too scary to watch... 😂

9) Any talents?

Spending hours upon hours scrolling through Tumblr & reblogging pictures.

10) Where were you born?

For privacy reasons, I'm just gonna say somewhere in Västerbotten.

11) What are your hobbies?

See the answer to question 9. Apart from that, I've re-fallen in love with pilates this autumn.

12) Do you have any pets?

Yes, I do & thank you for asking. She's only been mentioned once so far, which is a crime, in her opinion 😂 According to Ana, she's the centre of the universe & everyone should be focused on giving her attention. & she's correct 🥰

13) How tall are you?

158 cm, which apparently is around 5'2.

14) Favorite subject in school?

Is anyone surprised if I say it was history? 😂 I liked all of the social science subjects, to be fair...

15) Dream job?

Being paid to talk about royalty the whole day would be a dream.

Not gonna lie, I wasn't sure if I would be able to think of 15 people to tag, but here we go: @death-of-astar @bridgertonbabe @silverhallow @lizisanamimal @world-of-wales @cambridgemadness @princesscatherinemiddleton @amiscellaneouscollaboration @amymarched @corbenic @foreverinthepagesofhistoryy @royal-things @grandmaster-anne @tim-lucy @bridgertonian & anyone else who feels like answering these questions, consider yourself tagged by me :)

[satureja13]

Jeb also went back to work to his potions shop after the Valentine's Desaster. But other than Kiyoshi, he doesn't get anything done right. All of his spells fail and he can't concentrate on his research. Why did Sai have to see him together with Kiyoshi alone on on a 'date' on Valentine's Day? Usually they would have spent this day - their first Valentine's day, at that - together. Ach! Another failed spell!

He is just so afraid of losing Saiwa again. And again it's a situation where Sai already had been distressed from other happenings and it all piled up in him. Like last time they broke up after Jeb had a crush on Jack after Vlad's death.

Jeb just doesn't know how to deal with irrational, angry Saiwa. The others tell him to just give him some time and he will calm down eventually. But that hadn't worked last time either - and they had been separated for months! Jeb stared into nowhere, lost in his thoughts and fears. Another potion fail...

Jeb knows that Saiwa is convinced that he isn't good enough for Jeb. And he still doesn't understand what Saiwa sees in him.

How Jeb and Saiwa see themselves:

Vs how Sai sees Jeb and how Jeb sees Sai:

What Jeb doesn't know is, that Sai (and Jack too!) always was jealous of him and Kiyoshi. (Even I don't know what past these two have. All I know is, that they already had been friends long before they met the others. And they do have a special conection. They are even able to meet in the Otherworld (long before the others were able to travel there) and Jeb shared Kiyoshi's burden when he was in the Tree.)

Jeb calls it a day. He can't concentrate and he's only wasting his valuable materials. They can't go on like this. They need to find a solution - soon.

'I am sailing, I am sailing home again, 'cross the sea I am sailing stormy waters to be near you, to be free

I am flying, I am flying like a bird 'cross the sky I am flying, passing high clouds to be with you, to be free

Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Through the dark night, far away I am dying, forever crying To be with you, who can say

We are sailing, we are sailing home again, 'cross the sea We are sailing stormy waters to be near you to be free'

Sailing - Rod Stewart Link above leads to the MV on youtube. Just Rod Stewart on a boat, I could listen and watch him for hours... (TMI: Baby Jane was one of the first vinyl singles I've ever bought (in the early 80s (I still have it!) ^^' And I still think Rod Stewart is one of the most talented, beautiful and hottest men who ever walked on this planet :)

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest 🛺 'Home happy Home' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

Haha just found this!

[hellyeahsickaf]

If you want to get mad about how fucking awful some doctors are, here you go

With my post about medical discrimination against addicts and disabled people gaining traction again I got a few people asking about how I'm doing after my kidney infection and what happened in the ER. I'm better, could've been much worse but when I was seen they gave me antibiotics before anything else- it was the one thing they did right

I knew I had a kidney infection, I told them that I had a UTI and checked off all of the boxes for a kidney infection which is potentially deadly and leads to sepsis in as little as 12-48 hours if untreated. Pro tip because I'm an idiot- always see a doctor for UTIs, you can't just self treat them even if it seems to be going away as was the case for me. That's how it reaches your kidneys. Whoops 🥴

I waited a few hours which is expected but I got progressively worse. I also reported my pain as an 8/10 (9 by the time I was seen), migraine, fever, chills, weakness, dizziness, fatigue, nausea, probably some other things. I was shaking, crying, curled up, truly some of the worst pain I've ever felt next to gallstones. Maybe others handle this kind of thing better. Or maybe most grown ass men they see in this condition either have serious injuries or are addicts putting on a show. In which case they'd still be truly suffering. It shouldn't matter if they're an addict if they're in the ER desperate for relief in that moment. But yeah, I was ignored for most of the night aside from being given antibiotics and Tylenol. I just reread my clinical notes from that night actually and got mad again lol

I saw the doctor for under 5 minutes that night. He asked why I was there and how I was doing. I told him how awful I felt and he didn't carry out any examinations, it was the first time I'd gone to the ER and wasn't even asked to wear a gown. Either way he was extremely neglectful. Had the nerve to report exams for ENT, eyes, cardio, abdominal, skin, etc that never happened. He didn't lay a finger on me. Reported answers to questions I was never asked like whether I've had past surgeries (he put no when I have). And at the end of his clinical notes he states the following:

"..While I considered a CT abdomen/pelvis, I do not currently feel it is necessary based on the patient's physical exam and clinical history and review of any labs that were ordered. Patient is otherwise well appearing; feel it is reasonable to discharge the patient home at this time with close outpatient follow up."

So he claims he considered a CT scan but based on the results of exams he never performed and clinical history he never asked for and the fact that I was "well appearing" (felt like I was dying), he felt it was "not necessary" to order a CT scan. Only at the end of my visit- 6 hours later was I given an effective painkiller. This negligence genuinely could have killed me and I didn't want it to happen to someone else so I reported him for malpractice. They carried out an investigation and concluded there was no wrongdoing on his part. The woman that was in charge of being in contact with me during the investigation was really nice and also pissed off on my behalf and rightfully so. Also some days after my visit I got a lab report indicating that the strain of infection I had was fairly uncommon and pretty fuckin dangerous with some strains being immune to antibiotics

Maybe I should have advocated for myself better but the condition I was in, I could hardly talk at all. I just hate that he just gets to keep practicing medicine and jeopardizing the health of his patients to make his job easier despite the fact that it could kill someone. It's fucked up how easy it is for doctors to get away with this shit really.

[loungeact-143]

In The Cage (Part 2)

Part 1

Description: Y/n has been feeling down and she's been bottling her emotions up. She reaches her breaking point in the bathroom. Chan comforts and reassures her that she can talk to him about anything 😪

Y/n dried herself off and put her pajamas on. She put her hand on the doorknob and suddenly broke down, collapsing on the light blue marbled floor. She tried to get up, but her mind and body had no will to do so. She curled herself into a sitting fetal position, arms tightly hugging her knees. She still wasn't loud, but her eyes were blurry from being coated in tears. Y/n didn't know why she was feeling like this, or how she had let it get this bad. Sitting on the bathroom floor and crying like a baby.

"Y/n?"

She jumped as she heard Chan's voice. Y/n looked up as she saw her boyfriend tip toe in, not wanting to startle Y/n.

"Baby what's wrong? Can you look at me?"

She simply shook her head, still crying. Chan kneeled down to wrap his arms around Y/n. The warmth of Chan's body instantly calmed Y/n, her shoulders lowered and the squeeze that she had on her knees loosened. Maybe this was all Y/n needed, without knowing. She looked up at Chan, her puffy eyes and runny nose made Chan's heart crack. Y/n hugged Chan back, crying even harder. It was different this time, she wasn't crying because she was upset. All of the heavy emotions that were dragging her down, she finally let it out by crying instead of hiding it. Chan put his hand on Y/n's head and started rocking back and forth slowly. Y/n felt all of the pain fall off her body. What Y/n tried to do for months, Chan did it in seconds. His shirt was covered in tears, that was the least of his concern though.

"Y/n what's wrong baby? Why are you crying?"

She looked up at Chan with this tired look in her eyes.

"I...I haven't been feeling well lately."

"Baby I'm so sorry, do you want to talk about it?"

Y/n weekly nodded, letting out a quiet sigh. She held onto Chan's muscular arm before she spoke.

"I've just...*sniffles* been feeling a bit tired lately, even depressed. I guess I'm just overwhelmed with life rn. Between working and everything else."

Your grip on his arm weakened, relaxing your body more. Chan caressed your head.

"Baby, why are you just now telling me?"

"I know that you've been working really hard lately as well. I don't want you to have to deal with my stress along with yours. I also wanted you to enjoy your off days without me in your ear."

Chan was filled with guilt at your confession. He hugged you tighter.

"Y/n....no- I'm so sorry that I've made it seem like your feelings are a burden on me. Yes, I am tired from work, but I still care about you and how you feel. I want you to tell me how you feel from now on."

Y/n sniffled and nodded

"O...okay"

"I love you Y/n, is there anything else that's been bothering you"

"Y-yeah, *sniffled* a little bit"

"Do you want to talk about it, baby?

A quiet "Yes" came from Y/n.

"You can tell me all about it baby, I'm listening"

Chan listened to his baby talk about her feelings for two hours on the bathroom floor. By the time they were done, it was past 12:00 am. Chan picked Y/n off their floor and carried her bridal style and put her on the bed. Y/n was the first one to go to sleep. Chan kissed Y/n's forehead and closed his eyes soon after.

Y/n promised Chan that if she wasn't feeling good, she would open up to him, instead of bottling her emotions up.

[lemonluvgirl]

If you don't mind my being presumptuous, I wanted to share a prompt idea I thought you'd be great for: "in a slightly alternate 12 with no reaping but where indentured servitude is legal, Katniss signs up as an indentured servant to Mellark’s bakery. Katniss and Peeta fall in love and eventually marry, much to the shock and horror of the other merchant families."

Hi! Sorry about the late reply but I've been getting over a cold this past week! I finally had a chance to work on this great prompt and here's what I came up with. It isn't the full story, but I like to think it's a nice starting off point for the canon-divergent idea you had. Hope you like it!

I call this drabble:

Indentured.

The words tasted like ash in her mouth. 

“I promise to abide by the laws and rules set forth by my master, to serve humbly, without complaint until the terms of my contract are considered fulfilled.” She repeated the verbal part of the contract as the indentured servitude liaison instructed. 

The look on Mr. Mellark’s face was solemn, even perhaps a bit sad. The two older boys seemed neutral, and the witch looked supremely pleased like the cat who caught the mockingjay by the tail. 

Only the youngest son seemed outwardly upset. 

“This is barbaric.” He grumbled under his breath, eyes blazing with anger. 

Katniss’ brows scrunched together, wondering if he opposed the indentured servitude law on principle or if it was something more. 

He opened his mouth to say more as his father picked up a pen a moved forward to sign the thick packet of papers that would make her the legal property of the Mellark family for the next three years, but his mother’s hand flew fast, and hard to smack the back of his head in warning. 

No further objections were voiced. 

The i’s were dotted and the t’s were crossed and money was exchanged. 

Katniss sold the next three years to buy her sister Prim’s way out of being sent to the community home. 

Since Katniss was over 18 and legally employed, she could keep their small shack in the Seam, and provide a home for Prim, even though their mother had died the winter prior. 

All that was left was to shake hands with Mr. Mellark, which she did numbly. From over his shoulder, Mrs. Mellark shot her a wicked smirk. 

In the back of her mind she prayed that the three years would go by fast. 

.

.

.

6 Months in

Katniss struggled to swing the axe. Her hands were chapped and she had no mittens to shield them from the bitter cold. 

While her contract with the Mellarks ensured she was fed, given hand-me-downs clothes, and got to keep her small home in the Seam, they were under no obligation to pay her any wages. 

Without wages, she had no money to buy gloves after hers fell apart. 

So she suffered in silence, as she tried to muster up the strength to split the remaining firewood before she could be released for the day. 

The sun had long disappeared in the shortened daylight hours and the wind was picking up something vicious. 

It would be snowing soon. 

Katniss lifted the axe over her head and ignored the pins and needles feeling in her hands as she brought the axe down. 

Her grip on the axe faltered slightly and the wood split incorrectly. Pain rebounded up her arm and she dropped the axe clutching her throbbing, freezing hands to her chest and biting her lip to keep from crying out. 

But despite her best efforts, a small sob-like sound escaped her. 

From nowhere a hand reached out and gently turned over her palms. 

Katniss sucked in a breath. 

She looked up into the eyes of the youngest baker’s son and saw only empathy. 

If anyone else knew the sting of Mrs. Mellark’s vindictive side, it was her youngest son. Peeta Mellark was often assigned difficult and demeaning tasks, the same as her. 

He held her hands so gently she could barely feel his large palms cupping hers. His eyes took in the sorry state of her abused palms and he made a distressed noise in the back of his throat. 

“You’ve been using too much lye when you was the laundry. It’s ruining your hands.” He said quietly. 

Katniss didn't know what to say to that because it was true. But it was also the way his mother insisted the family’s clothes be washed. The effect left her skin rough and irritated even before she was assigned firewood duty. 

So instead of uselessly pointing out that there was nothing she could change about the situation, Katniss simply shrugged and tried to pull her hands out of his grasp. 

But he held on firmly, but still gently. 

“You need to soak them in salve when you get home.” He told her seriously. 

Katniss almost snorted with amusement, except it wasn't really funny. 

All of her mother’s old tonics and salves were used up. Since she had signed on to become indentured to the Mellarks. Katniss had to cut down on her hunting and foraging time. Mrs. Mellark kept her busy from sunup to practically sundown. Katniss hadn’t had time to properly stock their stores with herbs before winter fell. She could barely afford to keep Prim out of rags with the game she caught and traded on her days off. A luxury like oatmeal soap was something so far out of her budget it was ridiculous. 

In fact, if she didn’t figure out a way to get her hands in working order, the surviving Everdeens were going to be in for a very rough winter. Katniss’ hands were her livelihood and if she couldn’t work or hold a bow then things were going to go downhill very quickly for her. 

“Wait here,” Peeta said quietly before he let her hands drop. Then he turned around and retreated into the bakery. 

Katniss almost considered leaving right at that moment but she still needed to finish cutting the rest of the firewood. She wanted to cry, thinking about having to pick up the axe and swing it again a dozen times before she was free to go. 

So she stayed instead, gathering her courage to pick up the axe again. At least, that’s what she told herself. 

She wasn’t quite ready to admit that a part of her was waiting on the broad-shouldered boy with the ash-blond waves to return. In the past six months, Peeta Mellark had become less of a stranger but no less of an enigma. He was soft-spoken around her in a way he wasn't in front of others. But he always had an encouraging word for her or a friendly bit of advice. He was the one who had taught her how to split the firewood in the first place when she was first assigned the duty. He was constantly trying to make things easier for her, keeping his kitchen station tidy so as to not make more work for her. Sometimes he would even slip extra food into the bag she was allowed to take home at the end of the day in payment for her day’s labor. 

He looked at her sometimes, from beneath his incredibly long and pale blond eyelashes,  half apologetic, half something else. That look almost made her heart stop in confusion. 

She wished sometimes that he would just ignore her the way his older brothers did, but Peeta seemed determined to acknowledge her at every turn. 

So when he came back out and handed her a bag, twice as heavy and big as she was used to, it shouldn’t have been a surprise. But when Katniss looked inside she gasped. 

“Oatmeal?” She asked him, incredulously when she spied another bag at the bottom of the larger one, underneath the two-day-old cast-offs. 

Peeta nodded at her, cheeks ruddy from the cold and maybe something else. 

“Two scoops. When you get home put the oats to soak in some water for ten minutes. You can make a simple salve for your hands if you add fat or oil or just soak your hands in the mixture. It should help.” He instructed her with quiet intensity. 

“But--” She began to argue, to push the bag back towards him. He wouldn’t take it back. 

“Please, take them. Mother never should have made you chop all the firewood when she knows you had nothing to protect your hands.” His blue eyes were imploring. 

She shook her head but he opened his mouth to say, “Please,” with such a beseeching note in his voice that she paused. 

“Do it as a favor to me.” Peeta insisted. 

“I can’t,” She croaked, frightened when she thought of what the consequences would be if Mrs. Mellark found out that Peeta had stolen from the bakery’s stores in order to help her. 

“You have to. Your sister needs you. She needs you strong. Needs your hands to be strong. Please Katniss. Take it.” Peeta said, his voice firmer. Damn him, he already knew what avenue to take to get her to agree. 

“What about you?” Katniss said nervously. 

Peeta shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I know how to make sure the books balance so she won’t realize.” He said quietly. 

Katniss simply stared at him incredulously, unable to speak. Here was this boy, this person who had already done more for her than any stranger could be expected to, she thought as she recalled clearly that sad and terrifying day in the rain, and he still wanted to do more. 

If she did this, if she accepted his help, she would not only owe him for the bread but now she’d be picking up a new debt. 

“Peeta, I can’t.” He seemed startled at first by her use of his given name but quickly recovered. 

“You can. You need to. Think of your sister. If you get sick my mother will try to tack on more time to your contract. You’ll end up owing another six months to a year when she’d done with you.” Peeta warned. 

Katniss felt her gut clench in fear. She knew deep down he was right. She needed this, almost as badly as she had needed the bread six years ago. 

Guiltily, she nodded her head. She tucked the bag under her arm. 

Before she could force herself to turn around and leave with whatever little dignity she had left, the question slipped past her lips. 

“Why?” She asked in a trembling whisper. 

Peeta stared at her for a long moment, before looking down at his shoes. 

“Lots of reasons. One is my mother is manipulating things to her advantage, to try and stretch your labor down to the last cent and beyond. I guess I can’t stand by and just let it happen. No one should be treated like that. Like you are just a piece in her games. But maybe…” He trailed off, seeming to lose his ability to hold her gaze for a moment. 

“Maybe you’ve just left an impression on me that I can’t shake Katniss Everdeen.” He finally finished, gaze swinging quickly back to pin her in his blue gaze that was at once deep and encompassing, but also soft at the edges, almost tender. 

“And what impression is that?” She asked, unable to stop staring up at him. 

He smiled at her then, something so sweet and genuine that an unexpected warmth rushes through me. 

“Let’s just say it's a good one.” He says, clarifying nothing but his smile deepens until a small dimple appears on his left cheek and I find myself exasperated and endeared in equal measures. 

“You better get home before the storm kicks up.” He tells me when I say nothing in response. 

I look over at the remainder of the wood and he shoo-es me off. “I’ll finish up.” He promises and then proceeds to rapidly chop three logs in the time it would take me to do just one. 

I shake myself to clear my thoughts. He’s surely strong enough to make quick work of the wood. 

I run all the way home, trying to forget about Peeta Mellark and his smile. 

But when I get home I find a pair of faded but still wearable mittens tucked under the bag of oatmeal. 

I hold them under my nose and breath in the scent of cinnamon and dill.