#idk its easier on the wrist since the brush has to be light
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couldnt upload this yesterday bc of the tumblr ban but anyway, my hands were tired doing lineart for a work thing so heres a painting to cooldown
#i sound insane saying i paint to take a break from drawing huh#idk its easier on the wrist since the brush has to be light#trafalgar law#one piece
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Best Friends
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.7k
[ ☁︎ ] angst
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : unrequited feelings :’( really brief mention of sex (not nsfw tho!) & also (underage?????) alcohol consumption!
𝐛𝐢𝐨 : On your last night in the dorms, Shouto realizes he has feelings for you, his best friend.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : idk honestly i started writing this last night and was gonna abandon it... but then val tagged me in an angst ficrec and i was like ok well! this is a sign to post bc then i will have at least one sho angst on my masterlist lolll oops :o
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─── ・°* ゚✧:* • 。゚:*・☽・*: 。゚•*:✧ ゚*°・ ───
🅃onight was the last night in the dorms. Three long years had come and went, and now everyone’s belongings were cleaned out and secured away with cardboard and tape, leaving an empty wing that was currently filled with bodies, neon lights, and red solo cups. Music was pounding through the hallways, reaching every room and allowing no one total escape from the celebration.
You had been occupying the dance floor with Mina and Tsuyu for the last half hour, and now that you had sweat off the latest drink of the night, it was time for you to set off and find your more moderate-tempered companion. The pink-skinned girl wiggled her eyebrows at you when you alerted them of where you were heading off to, Tsuyu planting a love tap on your ass as you made your way from the swarm of people. The frog girl wasn’t usually so loose, but the alcohol that pumped through everyone’s veins had left only a select few unaffected. Tsu, just like you, was one of the ones that was happily allowing the weight of daily student life slip from her shoulders.
There were plenties of warm bodies swaying with the heavy bass rattling the hallways, shadows of couples and interested singles leaning against the walls, whispers and rowdy laughs echoing as the entire graduating class of UA partied the night away. Skimming by the line outside the bathroom, your feet found their way toward the end of the hall easily enough, taking the path you had so many times before.
A creak sounded as you pushed the cracked door open, the sight of the open shoji screen allowing moonlight to stream onto the bamboo mat floor which crunched quietly underneath your tentative steps.
“Shouto?” you whispered his name, eyes taking in the silhouettes of the packed boxes against the walls before you turned and saw a shadow sitting on the mattress beside the door.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
Your voice jolted Shouto from his wandering thoughts, his attention turning to you right away. He seemed surprised to see you standing there, and he peered up at you from his slightly hunched position on the couch. He acknowledged you with your name, his voice low and steady. By the sound of it, you wondered briefly if he had even had a drop to drink tonight.
Blinking at him a few times, you tried to adjust your eyes to the contrast between the bright moonlight and dark shadows. When you could finally see the planes of his handsome, somber face, you spoke, trying your best not to slur. “What are you doing over here all by yourself?”
He paused, lagging for a second before the corners of his mouth curled and his eyes crinkled at the sight of you. “Just thinking,” he answered, examining you in that intrigued way he always did. After a moment he must have reached the conclusion that you were some level of smashed, for he patted the empty space next to him on the bed with a smirk and said, “Come sit with me.”
For a moment you wondered why he was alone, but then your brain caught up with you, and you realized that his other friends were probably busy with their own issues or endeavors. Ever since Midoriya finally grew a pair and asked Uraraka out, the two had been going at it like rabbits every spare second they had. And you could only imagine how busy Iida was as class rep, trying to keep the party at least a little bit under control. Momo was definitely helping him, and you had seen Bakugou begrudgingly holding Kaminari up with Kirishima under his other arm when you’d passed by them in the hall… Leaving only you to come and rouse the half and half hero from his solitude.
“Well that’s not allowed tonight!” You exclaimed, fist slapping against the side of your thigh. You would’ve used both hands for emphasis had the other not been occupied with a half-full plastic cup. Your legs felt like jello as you moved toward him, his cool hand wrapping around your arm to offer his support and steer you into the spot beside him. You almost fell but he held you up with the one arm, chuckling as your butt finally met the safety of the duvet.
“Thinking’s forbidden?” he laughed at your insistence, the sound rich and deep as his hand lingered on your wrist.
“Yes,” you nodded vehemently, pulling your hand away from his to cradle your precious cup and shooting him a playful, sideways glare. “Brain turned off for the night. It’s in the fine print of the party rules, of course.”
Shouto gave you a funny look, eying you from the side. He repositioned himself, sitting upright and closing his eyes. It was hard for him to remain stoic when the quiet sound of your amused giggles tickled his ears, but he managed a nod before his eyes settled on you again. “Okay, I think it’s off.”
Conversation was always natural between the two of you, he never had to struggle to keep it flowing. And he liked talking with you, being in your presence. Which was the only reason why he was still entertaining this ridiculous charade.
“How do you feel?” you inquired, a goofy grin on your lips.
There was a twinkle in your eyes as you teased him, but Shouto held no qualms with your playfulness. Most people were still afraid to joke with him, believing that he was too obtuse to understand humor. Sure, he had struggled with the transition to school life in the beginning of their first year, but after you had transferred into their class second year, he found himself opening up even more than he already had.
“I feel… the same.” The grin on his lips remained, his eyes settled on your drunken form. His gaze flicked to your smile, shining in the moonlight and making something twinge in his stomach. He cleared his throat, pushing down the feeling that haunted him every time he looked at you too long. “This doesn’t really work, does it?”
You pretended to entertain the thought for a moment, eyes rolling as you considered it animatedly before your lips broke into a beautiful smile again. “No,” you giggled, shoulders shrugging in your cute, drunken fit. “But it’s easier when you’re not sober!”
He turned, faux surprise hung from his brow. “You’re drunk?” Sarcasm dripped from his voice and splashed onto you where his jean-clad thigh brushed against yours.
“Shut up!” You punched at his shoulder and pushed him away from you, shuffling yourself in the process.
Your hair swished with the movement and suddenly the soft, sweet scent of you was crashing over him. He breathed it in shamelessly, allowing himself to indulge in the warm feeling that suddenly emanated through his chest.
“You could try it, if you wanted. It really does help,” you offered your cup to him, shrugging.
Shouto eyed the red plastic cup, hesitant. He really wasn’t one to drink, but then again, neither were you. Tonight was about celebrating your graduation from UA, opening the next chapter of your lives. The thing was, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to move on when it meant leaving all his relationships either behind him or pushed to the side. Okay, maybe he was kidding himself… there was only one person he would miss having in his daily life, and that person was sitting right beside him— the same one who was the source of his conflicted feelings.
“Or not!” your hand retreated and you took a little sip, the sweet jungle juice washing down your throat easily. “No pressure. It’s your choice, Sho.”
He nearly groaned at the nickname, the one he only allowed you to call him. Grabbing the cup from you, his calloused fingers brushed over your soft knuckles. He smirked at the excitement that surfaced in your gaze as he brought the lip of the cup to his mouth, emptying the contents in one long go. The liquid was sickly sweet, masking the bitter poison that entered his body alongside it.
“That was… truly disgusting.”
“Whaaat?” You balked, grabbing for the cup in dismay. He kept it out of reach, even though it was empty, setting it on the far table instead. “It’s good, I dunno what you’re on. It’s really, really good. Heheh, just like me…”
Shouto blushed at the innocent innuendo, looking at you as you closed your eyes and let out a noise between a sigh and a laugh. He gulped, realizing that the alcohol was already taking effect and he was beginning to slip under its influence. Your method of “turning your brain off” was proving to be much more effective with the alcohol’s aid, but that was a whole other issue which he failed to foresee.
He usually preferred to keep his brain on and fully functioning, especially when he was alone, with you. That way, when you roused the butterflies in his stomach and pulled on his heartstrings, he could tell himself to just ignore it and focus on how important your friendship was to him. But now, his defenses were failing him, and there was nothing he could do to stop his heart from beating faster, palms getting clammier.
“You’re good?” he reiterated quietly, watching the way your tongue swiped across your lips, enchanted by it.
You chortled, finding the thought entertaining, apparently. “Yes! I feel really good right now.”
“Ah,” he murmured, sitting back and allowing the pillow he had propped up to sink around his form. “I feel... kinda good, too.”
A mix between a laugh and a scoff escaped you at his confession. “You feel something already, Sho? Wow, that’s so efficient.”
Shouto didn’t really know what you meant by that, but he only smiled softly at the happy look on your face. He closed his eyes and listened to the fast rush of blood in his ears, the feeling of warmth prickling at his skin. He wasn’t drunk, per se, but he felt a little lighter than usual.
You had said that drinking would turn his brain off, but it seemed only part of it wasn’t functioning. The other side of his mind was working overtime, much to his chagrin.
He was suddenly aware that this would be one of his last moments with you before everything would change. You were going to an internship not too far from his, only an hour away by train. But seeing you wouldn’t be nearly as easy as walking down the hallway… and it could only happen if the both of you found a time that worked and had the motivation to travel the distance to meet one another. He wasn’t sure if you wanted to do all that, just to see him.The realization hit him hard.
No more sneaking to one another’s room and having whispered, midnight conversations. No more studying together and simply being in your presence. No more opportunities to let his gaze linger on you longingly, nor chances for him to grab your hand when your knuckles brushed against his in the middle of your walks.
He felt sick at the thought of living without you. Maybe… maybe it was time for him to face his feelings head on. He had spent so long denying the recognition of them, the acceptance of them. The loss of you was imminent, unless he could finally force himself to say something, and it had to be soon.
As if you had picked up on his distress, you hummed quietly and shuffled closer to his side. His quirk spiked at the sudden proximity, heat flaring up as your head came to rest on his shoulder.
“I’m a sappy drunk, so I apologize for what I’m about to say,” you mumbled into his t-shirt, his skin prickling as your warm breath wandered through the seams and onto his skin.
He huffed out a laugh to ease your worries, but he stayed absolutely still, unwilling to move a muscle in case it would somehow scare your body off of his.
Then you whispered, “M’so lucky to have met you, Sho.”
Shouto choked on thin air, subtly wiping the moisture on his palms across the tops of his denim-covered thighs. Your scent surrounded him, and he couldn’t resist resting his head on top of yours, slowly breathing between your locks. “I… I feel the same, Y/n…”
It was quiet for another moment, his mind playing out a hundred ways to confess, trying to find the right words. Meanwhile, you were simply enjoying his reciprocation and the peacefulness of the quiet away from the party, completely unaware of his inner turmoil.
You sighed and he shivered as your breath scattered across his collarbone again, almost jumping when your fingers landed softly over his. How you remained so soft with their vigorous training, he had no clue. But your fingers felt so warm, so right lacing with his. His throat was thick with apprehension, a lump forming there as the seconds ticked by. It wasn’t often the two of you were sitting so close together, and he wondered if he was a piece of shit for thanking whatever God there was out there for you being kind of inebriated and so touchy right now.
Slowly, he turned to look at you, eyes wide and conflicted, taking in how truly astonishing your beauty was up close. You lifted your head from your perch on his shoulder, gaze locking with his before your lips curled into a meek smile. Digits tightening around his, you squeezed his hand and rubbed your thumb across his knuckles.
He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, screaming at him to do something— anything— whatever it took for him to just form the words and tell you that he was in love with—
“Thank you for being my best friend.”
—you… He blinked, the words registering.
You continued. “I know we’re moving away from each other, but I never wanna lose you. I cherish our friendship too much for that to happen, Shouto.”
Your words cut him.
Friends. Friendship.
His blood felt like it had frozen in his veins and he had become a statue, stock still as you carried on thoughtlessly, eyes now flickering over to the moon hung low in the indigo night sky.
“Please promise me that we'll never change. We might grow as people, but… our friendship will stay intact, right? I don’t wanna grow apart.”
It hurt.
Time had stopped and his lungs shriveled up, his body aching as if you had just lodged your knee straight into his ribs. His tongue tasted bitter suddenly, and he could almost hear the sound of his heart cracking.
But Shouto was good at hiding his emotions, years of compartmentalizing them giving him an edge that no one else he knew had. He kept his face neutral, even if it felt like he was withering and dying inside.
“I just… don’t ever wanna lose you.”
It was almost impossible to force his lips into a thin, hollow smile. But he managed, even if it felt like prying iron with a crowbar. He looked into your eyes and nodded.
He understood. To some extent, he truly understood.
“I don’t want to lose you either, Y/n... Don’t worry,” he took a deep breath, forcing the next words out even if he felt like he was about to be sick.
He cherished his bond with you too much to risk chancing it, confessing to you, and throwing it all away after your certain rejection. He loved you too much to ever hurt you, and he was too selfish to let go of you, too. The only one that would suffer from this was him, and he was alarmingly alright with that.
If it meant that he got to hold onto you, even for just a little bit longer.
If it meant that you would be happy... Even if he wasn’t.
“We’ll always be friends... I promise.”
─── ・°* ゚✧:* • 。゚:*・☽・*: 。゚•*:✧ ゚*°・ ───
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afJSNKJKDKJ WRITING ANGST FOR MY BABY IS SO HARD AHH I LOVE U SHO PLS... reader is so dumb to see u only as a friend i hate that dumb bitch ughhh (TдT)
➥ masterlist
𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏 . 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.
#shouto todoroki fic#shouto todoroki x reader#shouto todoroki angst#mha angst#bnha angst#shouto fic#shouto x reader#shouto angst#todoroki fic#todoroki x reader#todoroki angst#mha fic#bnha fic#mha x reader#bnha x reader#shoto fic#shoto angst#shoto x reader#shoto todoroki fic#shoto todoroki angst#shoto todoroki x reader
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The King with Golden Eyes
Warnings: Noncon, Dubcon, Implications of drugging/hypnosis Word Count: 5.4K A/N: I took liberties with his appearance and what ~powers~ he has, its kinda heavy?? idk
There’s a heavy weight against your neck. Tight and thick, a necklace of chains pushing you into the mattress, making your color deepen, darkening and veins pulsing and your body reacts before your mind, or your mind reacts before your body- you’re not entirely sure- and your heels dig into the mattress, harsh, ugly wheezing that sounds past your clenched teeth, your hands shaking and fingers flexing in the air, a crazed dance as they grab hold of whatever is on your neck, and tighten their hold, nails digging into something soft and silky. It finally registers to you that you can open your eyes, that the consuming darkness is because you have kept your eyes closed due to the horror that is of restricted air. But opening your eyes only adds to the horror.
The room is dark, shadows casted from the moonlight stretch into different shades and lengths against your room but what catches your eyes are the ones above you. Glittering in gold, unblinking and wide, peering into you with curiosity. Wide and innocent as whatever it is lays above you, weight against their hands as they choke you.
You cry and you beg for your life to be spared, vision spotting with a black that cannot be explained as it spreads like a dying film, burning against your vision and you cling desperately to the silk against your neck, arching your back and unable to push the person above you. You open your mouth to scream and a hand slaps your mouth. It makes your teeth rattle and ache and you can taste a faint hint of blood on your tongue.
Your room spins and memories blur, burning like film, spots clouding over faces as you take your final breaths. Your room, once smelling of citrus and peonies, is replaced by something richer, something that lays heavy above it, sophisticated and minty, sweet on your nose and stinging to your eyes.
“Please,” you whisper against the palm, trying to swallow the spit that has pooled in your mouth, trying to keep it from bubbling past the corners of your lips. You hold on tighter to the hand, your movements grow weaker, heels and kicks losing their kick as you succumb to the lack of breath. Your vision grows bleary, the deep weight against your chest growing heavy, thoughts subsiding as fog moves in, piercing, glowing eyes that look into you and as your hands slip from the silk, sliding past the wrist and onto the soft curve of your chest. Your breaths grow weaker, a mere breeze compared to the deep, ragged ones before, vision flickering in and out and your final thought is nothing tangible, incorporeal and enough to make your head hurt.
As if waiting for you to give up, the hands leave your neck. They slide down and cup your hands, the soft fabric gentle against your hands as they hold them tenderly, flipping them over and tracing the lines over your palms with such ease.
Breath is slow to return to you. Your body and mind in too much pain, too much awareness and lack of cognitive thinking that you lay still on the bed, your hands heavy and they slip an inch, only to be held tighter, in a grip that makes you whine under your breath, heading moving in a slow shake and your lips mouth soundless words of denial.
Your eyes are closed and beside you, something dips, the space under your sides deepening and there’s a flash of light that glows behind your closed eyelids. Something dark flashes across your closed vision, making a gruelly shadow appear over your body. The color in your face lessens, returning to your normal shade as you lay under your attacker.
You try to collect your thoughts. There is nothing that comes to mind and everything comes to mind and it’s all too much, filling you with such a terrible headache that you truly did wish you had died. Limbs heavy and carressed by whoever is above you, fingers that dance below your wrist in a walts and stop short of the crook of your elbow, watching as your skin pulses and twitches under and the eyes burn holes into your skin.
“Do you know who I am?” The voice says in a whisper. You can hear him sigh in displeasure. The hand on your arm moves and rests against your neck, fingers poised as they press down and search for your pulse, feeling it light underneath their fingertips. “You’re still alive. I see no reason why you have the audacity to not answer a simple question.”
“No,” you choke out below a whisper. “I don’t.”
The hand leaves your neck, a soft caress as it moves across your skin and lifts into the air. You aren’t ready to open your eyes and deal with whatever it is that you have to deal with. You aren’t ready to see your attacker linger above you in all their intensity and ferocity. You don’t think you can handle whatever is above you.
“I have many names,” the person says in a slow, tantalizing voice. “Names that vary from region to region-” you slowly begin to open your eyes, brows furrowing when light meets your vision- “names that people worship or curse under their breath-” it gets easier to breathe with each passing breath- “names that most confuse for what it is they are trying to seek-” you take a sharp gasp and close your eyes, blinking them slowly as the person above you ficuses in- “for now, you may call me Overhaul.”
You look above you and once again, you are unable to breathe. Above you sits a creature, beak fused where his nose and mouth should be, the beak plated in magenta and gold, gold that glistens from the lamp and is polished and smooth, not a single scratch against it. Golden eyes peer down at you, glistening and following your every movement, tracing down your face and tilting his head as he reaches your lips, gloves on hands, white and pure, pristine and clean against the creature. He wears a dark green cloak that wraps and covers his body, sheer and thick material that spins around and wraps around his body and a mix of fur and feathers that form against the collar and tuft out in all directions, brushing against his pale skin that is unblemished. Slowly, a glove is removed, pinched between the beak and letting the fabric fall onto your chest. His hand is large, fingers slender and fluttering against the air. Scale-like gold sticks to his skin, flickering out as it nears his cheeks and grouping together the closer it gets to his ears, getting lost underneath his auburn hair.
A pale hand reaches towards you, slender fingers that reach out with nails that are stretched and sharpened, claws that tap against your flesh, black, inky paint that decorate them is bold against you. The hand is cold to the touch, making you flinch against him, nails piercing your skin and his head tilts, golden eyes wide as they watch scarlet beads against his claws, and he pushes himself forward, the tip of his beak is a soft brush against your lips.
“Such a pretty mortal,” he murmurs, his hand leaving your face, watching his index intently as your blood stills on his finger, bright against the inky darkness. “So fragile and delicate-” his eyes flickering back to yours- “so naive and doltish.” His tone is soft, words whispered in a single breath, condescending and making you flinch as he reaches for you again. He sighs and rises from his position above you, the bed silent as he slithers off, raising his arms over his head, the mix of fur and feathers on his coat brushing against his ears, eyes coming to a close. You watch with fear, hands gripped tightly on your blanket, your neck still too tight and much too warm, the weight of his hand still lingers. “Do you know what loneliness feels like?” He asks, cracking his neck- loud and unforgiving and it makes a sinking feeling in your stomach deepen when you realize what kind of force it must take to crack something of his compared to your own. You fail to answer and he sighs, it’s exhausted and bored, tired like he’s just tired of it all. “Come on, I asked you a question-” he waves a gloved hand around, and you wonder how the fabric doesn’t rip under his claws- “don’t make me repeat myself. I’m not a fan of that.” he has a disgusted look on his face, head tilted to the side, eyes narrowed dangerously and you nod your head. He gives you a raise of his brows, his bare hand flexing against his side, your blood splashing against your floor.
“I-” your voice comes off in a single breath, and you clear your throat, tears springing to your eyes- “I do- I know what loneliness feels like.” It’s such a silly question, so miniscule and something that is only asked and answered when you’re too sleep deprived to realize what you’re really asking, too sleep deprived to know that you’re being vulnerable in a way that really matters.
“No, you don’t,” he corrects, clicking his tongue with a disappointed look in his eyes.
You mimic him, shaking your head, your eyes distant. “No, I don’t,” you whisper.
“How could you-” he says the word like its poison on his tongue- “know what true loneliness is like? You’ve only been alive for a blink of an eyes while I’ve been here since-” his voice trails and there’s an odd spark on them- “since a long time.” He glances back at you and laughs softly, his hand curling over the top of your head and threading his fingers through you. “What is loneliness like to you?”
“I- It’s when you’re cold or uh,” you pause and you can’t seem to find the words to describe what loneliness really is. Have you truly felt it? Have you ever felt the loneliness that he so desperately wants to describe?
He laughs and it’s like the laugh an adult gives to a child, a laugh so pitiful and forced to make someone feel better and he gives it to you. He twists a piece of your hair around his finger, watching strands peek and unfurl with just a simple pull. “Of course you wouldn’t know,” he coos. His voice raises, booming and echoing against your walls and making a picture frame rattle. “You could never understand the loneliness that I felt. The emptiness that swirled in me, made my blood ice cold, fury, a white burning fire that scorched everything in its path-” he sweeps his arms out in front of him- “the solitude and boredom that I felt waking up everyday. The emptiness that made me broken,” his voice falls to a whisper, brows furrowed into a pinch, “an emptiness that won’t ever be fixed no matter how much time passes. One that physically hurts and makes me sick,” he spits out, voice low and menacing. His hands cover his beak, running down the golden grooves, glove against him and sweeping off, his bare hand following in motion and falling against his side. “You’ll never understand what true loneliness is.”
You don’t know if you should apologize to him for assuming that you could know what it is he felt. But there’s also the chance that he would hate your pity, that he would hate to be pitied by a mortal. You’re tired and scared, mind foggy the more that you look at him, the gold on his body shimmering against the dim glow of your lamp and making you squint as you gaze among him. You want to fall asleep, but you’re too terrified to do so, unable to move, unable to respond to his rant about what it means to be lonely.
“But I don’t have to be lonely anymore,” he comments and his hands are wrapped around your forearms. “Do you want to know why?”
You nod your head. “Yes, please.” You don’t want to. You’re too afraid of the answer. There’s only one reason why he would show up to you, why he would make his presence known. His hands tighten around you, pulling taut against your skin and imprinting himself there and his skin burns. It’s cold and freezing, making you wince, fear in the back of your mind that his hand will get stuck against your warmth and it’ll have to be pulled off with little care towards your own safety.
“Because I have you.” He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, something so simple and easy to understand. The fog that settles in your mind turns thick, unable to be rid of and making your eyelids droop, your vision blurring and when you yawn, tears forming and clinging to your lashes when you close your eyes, only to open them and find that his beak gone, replaced by what a human looks like. And slowly the fog dissipates. “I forgot how delicate mortals are to Gods. My apologies, dear.” He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and when his hand comes into view, the claw is filed, a regular nail in its place, black and normal looking and you’re completely terrified.
“I don’t know what to think,” you whisper. You really don’t. There’s too much information to process with a mind that is barely starting to lose its fogginess.
He smiles at you, pleased with your truthfulness. “Of course you don’t.” He sits at the edge of your bed, holding your hand in his. “You see,” he starts off slow, grabbing your finger in his hand, “I am known as Overhaul- ruler of the Underworld- and for far too long I have been alone. Emptiness and loneliness filling me like a disease and infecting every inch of my body with a pain that won’t go away no matter what I do. But-” he curls your finger and rubs over the nail- “one day, I found you.” His smile is twisted, lips stretching upwards, teeth exposed in a cruel joke of a grin, almost wistful and fully bone chilling. “You were gathering flowers for a friend I funeral I believe. You were out in a field, your dress bellowing in the wind, basket in hand and despite the tragic event, you still had this smile- small, like you were remembering the good times that you had with your old neighbor and well- the way you decided to just spend the rest of your days holed up in your room, too distraught over the fragile life of a human- really now, there’s no reason to cry,” he murmurs, wiping away a tear, catching it on his thumb. “They were old- they were going to die eventually. There is no reason to cry over such a fleeting life-” he waves his hand in the air- “now as I was saying, you were just so alone.” he pauses and tilts his head. “Huh,” he breathes, “perhaps you do know what it’s like to be lonely. No one visited you did they? They all tried to comfort you but they didn’t care. You cried over some lady that was meant to die and-” the smile reaches his eyes and it makes them glow- “you were alone. And so was I.” He holds your face in his hands. “But not anymore.”
Tears flood in your eyes, burning and spilling over, slipping into his palms and making your vision blurry. “I don’t want this,” you breathe out, still against his touch. “None of this is making sense and I-” You’re quieted with a hand that covers your mouth.
“See, I’m not asking you. Of course, you wouldn’t understand or it would take you longer. If I had to be honest, I wasn’t exactly thrilled at what you made me feel either, but here we are.” He sucks in a deep breath. “You’ll understand eventually. You’re going to have to.”
“Please O- Overhaul,” his name is thick on your tongue, “I- If you’re the ruler of Underworld then you should be able to have any- someone who isn’t a mortal. Someone with a fragile life and- and-” you don’t know what else to say. You can’t reason with him. As human as he looks right now, you can see the gold that still adorns his skin, the coldness of his body that makes you flinch, his sharp teeth that are too pointed to be human and the way that his eyes remain bright, glowing even in the light.
He clicks his tongue. “I see no reason why I have to look elsewhere when I already made my decision.” His hands grab at your blanket and he pulls it close to him, your bare legs pricking with bumps and he ignores your gasps and attempts to grab at the blanket, yanking it out of your hands with a simple tug. “Like I already said, I’m not looking for your consent with this. I’ve made my decision already and I’m not changing it to some other mortal that isn’t worthy.” The blanket is folded and he raises from the bed, placing the blanket on a spare chair beside your bed. He turns to you, his shoulders squared and the other glove slipping off of his hand and disappearing into the green folds. “I don’t have to threaten you-” he steps towards you, heels clicking against your floor- “I rather not deal with the mess.” He kicks his shoes off and places them in a neat line, coming to straddle you, his knees against your sides. “I’m not a fan of mess so don’t make me do something that will only result in my anger.” He looks down at your bare legs and with a small push of his hand in between your thighs, your legs open, your gown barely covering what is to be hidden from viewers. “You mortals commemorate events, don’t you? Something to show the love between said lovers?”
“Oh god,” you gasp out, chest heaving and your hands coming to cover your eyes.
“Funny,” he chuckles, “but there’s not a god who’s going to meddle in my affairs.” He flashes you a smile, innocent and wide, lips curled over his teeth and eyes closed. “See, I have a habit to be rather intense.” His eyes open and all pleasantries have vanished, leaving a hungry look in his eyes. “Now, I want to make sure that tonight is perfect. It is our first night together after all.”
As if holding a mind of their own, the robes slither off of him in groups, strands and ribbons mixing in and slipping off, the feathers falling down his back and disappearing before they reach the middle of his spine. He is bare above you and he looks intrigued as he stares at you, bottom lip trembling as you mouth an old prayer, not daring to look at whatever is in front of you and he sighs, boredom laced into the air. He grabs your legs, hooking them over his arms and pushing them close to your chest, your core hidden under your underwear.
“I didn’t want to have you less than cognitive during our first time, but if you refuse to look at me, there’s only so much I can do.” The air around electrifies, sizzling and crackling, the pressure rising and making you feel like you’re about to burst until it drops and everything returns to normal, your mind growing heavy and hands slipping down the side of your face, palm face towards the ceiling and fingers curled inwards. “The effects will dull over time but for now-” the beak is solid, strong and sturdy as it brushes against your cheek- “you’ll feel heavy and slightly aware of what your surroundings.”
Your core, once protected by a single piece of cloth, is exposed, meeting the cool air and your body reacts, heat pulsing and flexing against nothing as he runs a hand down the slit, feeling your bundle of nerves tense under the stranger’s attention.
“Please,” you murmur, “I can’t- you can’t-”
“Oh?” Gold flickers out, long lashes fluttering in disbelief. “Is the mortal commanding me now?” He gives you a tired sigh, shaking his head softly. “Little human,” he says gently, “you really have no say in this matter. You see, alongside my loneliness came boredom and nothing quite pleased me the way it should, but I’ve watched you for quite a while at this point and I know how you would go under the blankets and have your hand slip between your folds while you clawed at the bedsheets.” A hand traces against your inner thigh, the feeling soft and ghostly as he continues to talk. “Such a high libido for such a little thing. Always before the dead of night and washing yourself right after- so cute and clean.” He dips his head, the beak barely grazing above your sex and you hear him take in deep breath. “I could always smell your sex. Sp intoxicating and abundant in the air. To be honest, I’m surprised with how long I lasted before I finally came in.”
Your words of plea fall onto deaf ears as a slender digit is pushed inside of you, moving experimentally inside the gummy walls. “Overhaul,” you choke his name out, “please.” Tears fall over the curve of your face and spill onto the pillows as he adds another finger, curling and petting them inside of you, drool pooling in the back of your mouth.
“I was going to kill you. Put you in my realm but then I wouldn’t be able to feel your warmth,” he muses, twitching his fingers inside, head tilting at the soft shucking noises that emit. “I didn’t know humans can get so wet,” he comments, pulling his fingers out, watching in fascination as your essence sticks and breaks apart as he pulls his fingers. “A work of art,” he mumbles, staring at your sex.
His digits are pressed inside of you, slender fingers that move expertly inside, massaging against your gummy walls. Your body reacts to the stimulus, mind fully against it as you let out a sob. Your legs kick out, nudging against his, your hands curling into soft fists where red blooms as you tighten them only to loosen as he presses his fingers deep within you.
“I don’t want this,” you sob, turning your head to look away from him, vision blurring and images dragging around in a lag. “I’ll do anything else, please, just not this.” You let out a shuddering breath, high pitched and shaky, chest heaving as tears spill and sully your face.
His eyes meet yours in a lazy roll of the eyes, a thin brow raised as he holds a hand in the air. “You see,” he starts with a drawl, “as much as I enjoyed your muffled moans, I’m not one to really care about your pleading. So either you shut your mouth or-” his hand flexes turning to a shade of red, dark and pulsing with black lines running through him, thick and thin, twisting and intersecting with the other lines- “I have to show you just how awful I can really be.”
Your eyes widen in fear, feeling the air sizzle around him, practically feeling the power that courses through him. The arm is thick, muscles protruding with claws that mimic the color of his skin, shape and flexing against the air. Snippets of black veins reaching past his beak and coursing through his face in a mask, creasing as he narrows his eyes at you, his beak slowly opening and drool spilling out. You yelp when it touches at your thighs, sizzling and searing into you, your muscles flexing, back arching as you try to kick your leg in a desperate attempt to get the drool off. The monstrous hand is placed against your thigh and wipes the drool off, and you watch as it morphs back into a regular hand. You slowly close your mouth and eyes, nodding your head.
“That’s a good girl,” he praises, voice sultry, and his beak stretches, pulling into what you assume to be a grin. His fingers flex inside of you, curling and prodding against your walls, watching your face scrunch up, tears beading against the corners of your eyes as you contract around him, suckling his digits further into your body. “You see, you're already enjoying this.”
The pressure forms quickly. It’s searing hot, budding and blooming in your lower belly, a tight coil as it wraps around and pulls you further, arousal leaking past your lips, making you shine in a pale glow. You grit your teeth, breathing harshly through your nose, rolling your lips in order to keep your cries muffled, your hands clawing against the sheets, twisting them until your wrists hurt, aching and clit pulsing as he continues his assault.
“You’re close, aren’t you? Your scent when you reach your little high is something I won’t forget.” He takes a deep breath or air, head tilted upwards, his beak parting slightly and thin strands of drool roll against the appendage. He comes down with a bob of his head, eyes half lidded and darker. “I’m sure that it feels good, so why don’t you thank me?” You shake your head, biting your bottom lip, whining under him as you try to get a control on your body. “No? You see princess, I’m only being good to you so I can go in easy but you’re already stretched enough. So either you thank me and I let you reach your high or you keep being an ungrateful brat and I’ll make sure that I reach my own high.” The fingers inside of you stop moving, slipping out leisurely.
“No,” you breathe out, clenching at your sex, feeling arousal slip past your quivering hole. You cover your mouth with your hands, brows furrowed and body shaking.
His fingers pinch at your bud and you cry out. “Beg for it.” You give him a horrified look, mouth parting open in disbelief. “Beg for your King to make you feel good-” he leans close to you, beak grazing above your cupid’s bow- “and I promise to make my subject pleased.”
You keep your lips shut tight, eyes pinched together as the headache swirls to a stop, heavy and dull against your frontal lobe, eyes heavy from glancing at him, breaths coming to a shallow, slow stop. The tightness in your belly dissipates, flowing into nothing and leaving you tense. You whine as you feel his hands hold onto your thighs, a soft brushing of his nails, your essence trailed and against your warm skin.
“I suppose you’re going to stay quiet.” He doesn't wait for a reply, grabbing at your legs and pulling you close to him. Your heat is flushed against something rigged, something that is hard and pokes against you. “Shame. But you’ll beg for it in due time-” his beak nuzzles against your neck, the sharp tip pointed against your pulse- “we both know that.”
You’re left breathless as something firm is pushed inside of you, expanding against your walls and filling you deep, a heavy groan that reaches your ears and mixes in with your whines of pain, hands twisting and pulling taut against the sheets, your breath coming out in harsh puffs of air through your nose.
“”S hurts,” you mewl, “Over- Overhaul,” his name breaks against your tongue, “it hurts.” Tears flood your eyes and spill over in heavy, warm trails.
“I did tell you to beg for it and you were the one who denied my offering of pleasuring you-” his breath is warm against your flesh, fanning across you, the beak is solid against you, poised and sharp as it moves against the sensitive area of your neck- “you only have yourself to blame.”
He pushes himself deep against you, hissing through his beak, eyes clenched shut, a hand gliding up to your chest and gripping at a breast painfully, the other coming to hold himself up, palm flat against the bed. You try to squirm away, twisting and turning your body, your words slurring together and getting choked up as he ruts against you. He pushes himself deep, your walls molding and entrance burning with an unfamiliar pain as you’re forced to widen around him, molding into his shape.
“Overhaul, please-” you push against his chest, eyes stinging with fresh tears, throat raw- “I’m sorry. It hurts.”
He coos near your ear, the tip of his beak creating a thin cut that runs below your jawbone. “Now you know better,” he sighs, rolling his hips against yours, the tip of his cock hitting against your cervix. “You see I’ve bred many before you, so-” his voice turns into a soundless moan as he feels your walls tighten- “tell me, do you think you could produce an heir?”
“No,” you gasp, pushing harder against his chest, “please- no.”
“You’ll be a lovely mother,” he praises. “Full of my child and tits full of milk, ah,” he groans, head rising and beak pulled apart, thin and thick strands of clear saliva stretch from the top and bottom beak. “A sow made for breeding.” He makes an attempt at a laugh, rich and broken by cawing. “A beauty all for me.” His beak presses against your lips, the top of his beak presses between your lips, parting them, a slimy, heavy tongue slipping past and filling your mouth, drool forming and spilling between the corners of your lips and when he looks up he has a smug look, brows raised and eyes glinting. “While I’m not a fan of spilled fluids, I must say that the drugged out look suits you nicely,” he comments cooly, hips never slowing as he searches for his release.
“Overhaul,” you sob, your hands falling from his chest and fluttering over your mouth, wincing at the stickiness that is your drool. “I can’t- Too much.” The pain subsides, dulling for a moment as pleasure overtakes, your body choosing to enjoy what the God above you wants, fluttering and tightening around his shaft. You feel as if you’re about to leak, bursting at the seams, your core tight and pulsing, muscles tightening as you can feel the edge of it lap around your sex. “Please-” your eyes roll to the back of your head, your mouth stretching open and you begin to arch your back- “it’s too much,” you wail behind your palms.
“There’s the pretty girl,” he croons, thrusting deeper against you. “Obedient and pretty. What a good little thing.” He continues to move inside of you, cock heavy and flooding you with warmth as clicking sounds fill the room. His eyes come to a close, brows twitching as he reaches his edge, essence dripping past your leaking core and wetting the sheets below. “I can’t wait to see your belly swell,” he says in a gentle voice, the tight grip against your breast releasing and going to curve over your stomach. “It’ll be a sight to see,” he murmurs, head tilting and eyes squishing into what could be a smile that reaches his eyes. “My human-” he slams against you- “filled with my seed-” he twitches his head as he thrusts against you, voice cracking and strained- “what a sight to behold,” he breathes out, stilling above you, warmth flooding inside.
You gasp, closing your eyes and biting the inside of your cheeks as thick discharge floods out of you, warm and filling, pushing deep inside of you until it can no longer fit and sliding out in slimy trails that make your legs twitch and cunt leak. You stay still, turning your head and flinching when his hand caresses your face.
“I’m no longer alone,” he breathes out, and the air around him comes to a still, the air lightening and you’re able to think without your thoughts being pulled and jostled. His lips are soft against yours, an innocent peck against your lips. “And neither are you.”
You look up, tired eyes meeting golden ones that shine and shimmer, glinting and glittering against the dim light, looking at you filled with promise and false love. He smiles delicately at you, body still pressed against yours and face held tenderly. He rests his forehead against yours, the shadow it creates is small and only darkens lightly, but his eyes still glow bright, gold and menacingly.
#chisaki x reader#kai chisaki x reader#kai chisaki imagine#chisaki kai x reader#overhaul x reader#bnha overhaul#overhaul imagine#yandere overhaul#bnha imagines#tw: noncon#tw: dubcon#tw:drugging#why did i go so far with this fic#sorry lol#i hope you like it
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Lovers
After hours of cursing at my laptop, I have finally finished my secret santa fic for @artemiseamoon (hope you like it!!!)
Ezra x reader (written with an AFAB reader in mind, though it’s entirely possible I accidentally made it gender neutral)
Warnings: insecure Ezra, discussion of body image (Ezra), light angst, but mostly fluff, possibly OOC Ezra? idk I haven’t written a lot of him yet... umm marriage is discussed just but it’s left ambiguous as to whether it’s legal or if y’all just decided to say you were 🤷 ...um possible inaccuracies with the tarot content?? i did my research but I had zero knowledge to begin with so idk if I got everything right?
Word count: 5098
A/N: Important!!! This fic is separated into sections... Italics take place in a different point in time. The three middle sections (which each have titles) are to represent each card in the tarot reading, the first titled section (in italics) is a flashback, the second is present time, and the third (in italics) is a snapshot of the future. the beginning and end also take place present time.
before you continue, did you read the author’s note?? it’s important to understanding the fic!!
Ezra lets out a soft sigh, burying his nose deeper into your chest. You card your fingers through his hair, a soft smile appearing on your lips at the way he leans into your touch.
These moments are your favourite: when the weather outside is too dreary for work, and the two of you curl up together on the small cot you share.
Ezra insists he hates days like this. A day without work is a day without pay, after all. You’d always laugh at his complaints.
“Surely a day in bed with me isn’t that unbearable,” you’d always tease.
“A day in your arms,” He’d reply, pressing a kiss to your lips, “is the only satisfactory substitution for a day’s work.”
Ezra shifts in your embrace until he can reach to brush his lips against your neck. You tilt your head, allowing him easier access.
Ezra begins murmuring against your skin. Between every kiss comes a compliment. You have no idea what most of them mean; you can only guess by the love with which they’re said. “There are,” Ezra kisses you again, “no words,” kiss, “impressive enough to describe you, my Star.”
You slowly sit up, Ezra following suit, not allowing any significant distance to come between the two of you.
You cup Ezra’s cheeks, steadying his face between your hands. Softly, as if he might shatter if you’re not careful, you brush your thumb across his lower lip.
Your lover stares into your eyes, almost as if they are the night sky and he’s searching for constellations. Just as you begin to wonder if he’s lost himself, Ezra breaks the silence, his voice barely more than a breath. “What’s going on in that mind of yours?”
“Just thinking about how lucky I am to hold the universe in my hands,” you reply, and as if to prove your point, you pull Ezra into a kiss that is as gentle as it is passionate.
“You are mistaken, Star,” Ezra lifts his hand to your face, desperately wishing he had his other, so he could properly mirror your touch. He places a feather-light kiss to your forehead.
“Oh?” you breathe, preparing yourself to argue when he says that he’s the one holding the universe in his hand. Just as he always says.
But his touch falls from your face. With a feather-like touch, he pulls your right hand from his cheek, turning it to place your palm on your left one. He mirrors it with your left hand.
“Now you hold the universe in your hands,” he whispers with a subtle quiver in his voice.
You drop your arms, lips parting to argue with him; to insist you had it right the first time. But your words catch in your throat when a single tear spills down Ezra’s face.
He tries to swipe it away before you see, but you catch his wrist. “What’s wrong, love?” you dry his cheek with your thumb, allowing your fingertips to linger against his jaw.
You watch the wheels turn in Ezra’s head as he chooses his words. “…Me,” he replies simply.
For a moment, you don’t know how to respond. “…you?”
Ezra nods, pulling away from you to lean against the wall.
“What does that mean?” you try to brush a strand of hair out of Ezra’s face, but he shies away from your touch.
“You deserve… more,” Ezra refuses to look at you.
“I don’t understand,” you search Ezra’s face for clues.
“You deserve someone who can give you everything,” he sniffs, “You deserve more than a forlorn pod and allocating freeze-dried rations.” More tears escape from Ezra’s eyes and drip into his lap.
“Ezra,” you soothe, “I don’t care about any of that.” Ezra opens his mouth to argue, but you continue. “Is it not enough to love each other?” you question, not bothering to wait for an answer. “If I only cared about material possessions, do you think I’d really have stuck around this long? I love you, that’s all I care about.”
Ezra wordlessly stands, shuffling across the floor to rifle through a canvas bag.
“What are you doing?” you sigh. You’re met only with a hollow silence.
After a moment, Ezra returns. He delicately sits beside you, placing a small object in your lap. Your gaze drops to find a stack of well-loved cards.
“Ezra,” you protest, setting the cards aside.
“Please,” the desperation in Ezra’s voice breaks your heart.
“You don’t need a tarot reading to tell you that I love you,” you try to meet Ezra’s eyes, but they’re glued to the floor.
“I just—” Ezra sighs. “Forgive my trepidation, but I need to know… where are we headed? I comprehend that you love me at this moment in our journey, but what about years from now? Will you still be enamoured by me?”
You give in with a sigh, realising that Ezra won’t be satisfied by just your insistence that you’ll always love him.
“I’d like to believe you when you say you love me, but I can’t help but speculate that your judgement may be clouded,” Ezra continues. “Our ceaseless wayfaring, our lamentable career… It’s all beneath you. You deserve better.”
You finish shuffling the cards and lay them in front of you. After taking a moment to examine the spread, you open your mouth to speak.
---
Reversed Ace of Cups
Ezra sat back, frowning at the canvas bag. It was stretched at odd angles, stitches pulled tight. He didn’t even attempt to close it, the zipper would tear right off.
“You’re certain all your possessions fit in here?” he asked. He wasn’t able to fit half your things in the bag, let alone all of them.
“Yes, Ezra, I’m certain it all fits.” You lifted your attention from scrubbing filters to examine Ezra’s progress. Laughing at his lost expression, you crossed the floor to kneel across from him.
“You just have to reorganise so it fits,” you explained, shuffling items around until there was room for more.
Ezra watched your hands dig through the bag. They looked like they’d fit perfectly in his. He watched your eyes analyse your work. Just like they do in the field.
Ezra could tell there was a lifetime of stories behind that gaze. He wondered which story caused that slight frown that only seemed to disappear when you were asleep. Or, perhaps, it was a collection of stories.
“There,” You sat back on your knees.
Ezra dropped his attention to the bag. Everything fit. It was still a bit stretched at the seams, but the zipper would no longer struggle to close.
Something caught Ezra’s eye. He reached in, lifting a deck of cards from the top of the bag’s contents. He removed the string holding them together and spread them out in his hands to admire the art on each of them.
“I, um…” You stuttered, watching Ezra’s fingers trace the worn ink and well-used edges.
“I was not aware that you read tarot,” Ezra murmured with a hint of admiration in his voice.
“Keeps me sane,” you shrugged.
“Would you feel inclined to do a reading for me?” Ezra asked, offering the cards out to you.
Your fingers brushed against his and Ezra’s heart jumped into his throat. The contact only lasted a moment, though, before you began shuffling the cards. You were saying something. Your voice was beautiful. Ezra could listen to you talk forever.
You were staring at him expectantly. Ezra’s face heated up—he hadn’t heard what you said.
“I apologise, I didn’t quite catch that, Star.” He chewed his lip, praying that you didn’t catch on to his train of thought.
You fought the urge to smile at the nickname. Ezra has called you that since the day you met. You always pretended to be annoyed, insisting he use your name. You don’t hate it; you just wish it meant the same thing to him that it did to you.
“I asked if you had a question? For the reading.”
“Oh,” Ezra exclaimed. “My apologies, my cognizance was elsewhere.”
“Yeah, no shit,” you laughed, your usual frown melting away. Ezra’s chest swelled with pride at being the reason you’re so relaxed, despite his embarrassment.
“This assignment is approaching its end,” Ezra took a moment to sweep his gaze across the room that had been your shared home for the last several months. “How should I converge with the coming weeks?”
‘will you stick around?’ Ezra meant to say. But you couldn’t know how he feels. Not yet.
You nodded to acknowledge Ezra’s question before you finish shuffling.
Ezra wasn’t even sure how many cards you laid down.
Even through your concentration, you looked happy. Relaxed.
You began to speak. As you shared your interpretation of the cards, Ezra watched how different emotions transformed your face.
Some of them, he had seen before; the passionate look you get when you talk about the stars, the way your brows furrow in an excited concentration. He only saw your eyes light up like this on occasion; at night, usually. When it was too dark to work but neither of you are quite ready to go to sleep, so you settle on opposite ends of the bed, each doing your own thing. He’d sometimes watch you from the corner of his eye, and when you thought he wasn’t looking, you’d glance up at him with that same look in your eye, Ezra had always wondered what it meant, but has never dared ask for fear you’d stop letting him see it. It was a look that felt rare and intimate. As if only those who you’d trust with your life would ever have the privilege of seeing it.
But some of those expressions, Ezra had never seen on your face. The way you looked when you paused for a breath, it was as if you were doing so much more than interpreting the message the cards were telling you; you were the connection between this reality and the next, watching a story unfold and telling Ezra what he needed to know to make it his reality.
Your expressions confirmed what your words were telling him: everything was about to change. His lifestyle. His relationship with you. Everything.
It should have scared Ezra. But this was the safest, the calmest, Ezra had felt in a long time.
You fell silent, finished with your reading. You searched Ezra’s face for a reaction.
“I love you,” Ezra blurted out before he could stop himself.
Your jaw dropped. “Ezra, I—” You didn’t know what to say.
“I understand if my feelings are not reciprocated. And I apologise if this puts you in a vexatious position, I assure you, that was not my intention.” Ezra paused, wringing his hands together. “I simply needed you to be aware of my feelings towards you.”
You didn’t know how to respond. A million words sat at the tip of your tongue, but none of them seemed right. With each passing second, Ezra could feel his stomach drop further and further into the floor.
“Oh,” Ezra breathed, taking your silence as rejection. He backed away, shoulders threatening to collapse around him. Tears stung at the backs of his eyes. His stomach was turning. How could he be so stupid as to think you’d fall in love with a man like him?
You dove forward suddenly, pulling his face toward yours, your lips crashing against his. It took Ezra a moment to register your actions, and another to react. He was soon pulling you into his chest in a bruising embrace, his lips engulfed yours in a way that was almost overwhelming. Ezra let out a soft moan when your fingers found his hair. His nose bumped yours and his breath tasted like the stale, nearly unbearable rations you’d been living off of for months, but you didn’t care—yours probably wasn’t much better.
The kiss was rushed, desperate. Your teeth kept hitting his. He couldn’t decide where on your body he wanted his hands to be.
You finally broke away for a breath. “I love you too,” you whispered into Ezra’s lips.
___
Reversed Judgement
It’s been years since that night. You’d gone through everything together; Ezra nursed you back to health when you got sick, you’d taken care of him when he, inevitably, caught whatever you had. It’s been ages since you stopped counting how many times you’d stitched each other’s wounds. You’d been there for him when he lost his arm, he’d been by your side for every injury of your own. It has never been a question that you have each other’s backs.
Ezra smiles softly. You’re so beautiful like this. The way your eyes light up as you speak, as if you’re a prospector who has just uncovered a valuable gem. It’s an expression Ezra has seen a million times, but his heart aches to see it a million more.
But his smile quickly fades. You’re happy right now. But how long until you realise you deserve better? You don’t deserve this life. You deserve more than a creaky pod and a lumpy cot much too small for one person, let alone two.
And what about the loss of his arm? The jobs Ezra can take now are restricted, the people who will hire him even more so. In bed, he can hardly figure out what to do with himself. You keep insisting that it’s okay, that he’ll learn. But how long are you willing to wait?
Ezra closes his eyes and listens to your voice; it’s his favourite sound. And the passion behind it now, during a reading? It’s overwhelming.
Ezra wants the rest of his life to be spent by your side. He can’t stop thinking about his future with you. Will you settle down together? Or spend the rest of your lives travelling the galaxy together? He’s not sure which he wants more. But either way, he can’t imagine a story for himself that doesn’t include growing old with you. If he’s honest with himself, Ezra can’t even remember a time he’s thought so much about the future. It’s always been about now. About surviving to see tomorrow.
Why does that have to change now that he’s in love? Why is he suddenly afraid of the future?
You’re happy now. Your kisses, the way you seek Ezra out even in your sleep, how your hand finds his almost constantly, proves how happy you are.
Ezra’s never been this happy. He’s never known someone who makes him feel so safe. Around you, Ezra can put his guard down. He doesn’t have to be so cryptic all the time. With you, Ezra can just exist.
Ezra’s hand finds its way into his pocket. His fingers wrap around a small stone.
He watches your hands accentuate each point you make. Ezra loves your hands. Especially your right hand; it’s the one he gets to hold when you walk beside him. It fits so perfectly in his. He loves the way your hands bury themselves in his hair when you kiss him. He loves how gentle they are when you’re patching him up. He pretends to hate it when you slip your hands under his shirt when you notice how cold they are just so you can press them against his chest and laugh at him when he squirms. Ezra loves that laugh.
He fidgets with the gem. He’s forgotten exactly how long it’s been there, though he remembers the day he got it as if it were yesterday. It was one of your first digs together. The gem was too small to be worth anything. So Ezra pocketed the stone, and it’s become a bit of an extension of himself.
Ezra watches your lips move in sync with your words. He loves your lips. The way they taste against his. The way they trace along his jaw when you’re teasing. Ezra’s kissed you a million times, and yet he always yearns for another.
“My Star,” he’d always say whenever you noted that he could never seem to stop kissing you, “a single touch shared with you could console even the most pained of men. And therefore, what motivation do I have to add to the distance between us?”
My Star. Ezra’s called you that… Forever. Ezra loves your name. But to call you his Star is a privilege only he has. Every time he says it, he remembers the countless times the two of you have laid on the ground, examining the night sky in search of constellations. No matter where you are, you always find a way to stargaze.
Through the window of your shared pod.
Passing glances through your helmet when the air outside isn’t safe to breathe.
But by far, Ezra’s favourite is when the air outside is breathable so you pull him outside to lay on the ground, held in each other’s embrace.
On those nights, you’ll continue to talk about the stars long after Ezra’s coaxed you inside to bed. He loves to fall asleep to the sound of your voice in one ear, the rhythm of your heartbeat in the other. Those nights fill Ezra’s chest with a lightness that washes away years of trauma.
But tonight, the stars are hidden behind a veil of clouds. Rain echoes through the trees outside. It reminds Ezra of the nights you’re curled under threadbare blankets and you’re whispering sweet nothings in Ezra’s ear.
Ezra smiles at this. Rainy days are his favourite. It stresses him that he often can’t work on those days, though in your company, that stress quickly melts away.
Ezra is never happier than when he’s with you.
___
Ten of Cups
“Star,” Ezra calls out to you.
You’re on your knees, elbow-deep in a sticky black mud. “Yeah?” you grunt back, nearly toppling forward into the mud in your distraction.
“The spoils of these pits appear to already have been claimed, and the sun is beginning to set.” Ezra sits back on his knees, pulling his arm from his own mud pit. “I suppose it’s time we get cleaned up for the remainder day.”
Ezra stifles a laugh at your disgusted grimace when you free your arms from the mud. After a brief examination of the sun-streaked sky, you let out a frustrated huff, pushing yourself to your feet.
“Yeah,” you give in. You have to resist the urge to wipe your hands on your clothing. You accept Ezra’s outstretched hand, lacing your fingers in his.
The stream isn’t far away—close enough that its inviting babbling has called out to you and Ezra all day.
Ezra leads you hand-in-hand to the edge of the murky water. He sinks to his knees first, wasting no time in submerging his arm into the icy liquid to wash away the itchy layers of chemically contaminated mud.
With a desperate splash, you follow close behind.
It’s jobs like these that makes Ezra wish gloves were a luxury the two of you could afford. But gloves strong enough to not break down upon contact with the mud would cost a fortune to buy and would require frequent replacements.
And so, after a long day buried in the acidic material, your arms are left itchy and raw. Ezra frantically rubs his forearm back and forth over a rock just below the surface of the water in a desperate attempt to wash himself clean, and, perhaps relieve some of the painful itch. If he notices the blood staining the water, he doesn’t care; in this moment, the temporary relief overpowers the regret that will later come from allowing the rock to break through his skin.
Ezra startles when your hands close around his wrist. Gently, You begin rubbing away the mud with your already clean hands. You’re conscious to take extra care around the steady trickle of blood.
“You’ll only make it worse like that,” you murmur, focusing your attention on making sure no mud is left under Ezra’s fingernails.
“Thank you,” Ezra closes his eyes in pleasure when you begin massaging his raw skin under the cloudy water to remove the last traces of mud.
“Mhm,” you reply absentmindedly and pull his hand from the water.
Ezra stands, hoisting you to your feet and pulling you into your shared pod.
You help each other dry off and spread an ointment over each other’s arms that makes tears of relief spring to Ezra’s eyes. After stripping yourselves free of your dirty clothes, Ezra collapses onto the cot, pulling you into his chest.
You shift until your head is resting on his shoulder and your body is curled around Ezra’s side leaving his arm free to reach what he needs to.
This position makes it difficult for Ezra to wrap his arm around you, but after a long day of work, neither one of you wants to move if he needs to reach something from the rusty bedside table.
You wrap your arms around your lover’s neck. Reflexively, Ezra’s fingers lift to find yours. He silently fidgets with the thin metal band around your finger, which had been returned to its rightful place upon arrival at the pod.
The pads of his fingers trace over the small gem embedded in the metal. Ezra smiles, remembering the cold winter’s day you’d finally said “I do.”
A soft chuckle escapes Ezra’s throat as he recalls the night you’d agreed to marry him, despite the many years you’d spent telling him about your distaste for the idea of being married.
“What’s that about?” you ask, not seeing a reason to laugh.
“I’m so fortunate to have you, Star,” Ezra whispers back, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” You murmur and lean up to press a kiss to Ezra’s jaw, at the same place you always do; the little patch in his scruff, where Ezra seems unable to grow any hair.
You love those spots on either side of his face. “They’re built in places for me to kiss,” you’d always insist whenever Ezra was feeling insecure about his patchy stubble.
“Still?” Ezra asks. “You still love me after all these years?”
“Why not?” You can’t think of a single thing Ezra has ever done that might make you rethink your feelings. Sure, he has his habits that never fail to get on your nerves. But, if anything, that makes you love him all the more.
“You’re not growing exhausted by my presence?”
“How could I ever get bored of you?” You sit up enough to meet Ezra’s gaze. “I love you more than anything. If I didn’t, what reason would I have to follow you on all these jobs and crazy ideas you get to make a living?” You caress Ezra’s cheek with your knuckles. “Ezra, I stay because I love you. Those feelings are never going to change. And, if they do, it will be because I’ve fallen further in love with you. If that’s even possible.”
“What did I do to deserve you?” Ezra smiles softly.
You let out a hum of contemplation. “I’m just here for the kisses,” you tease, placing a brief peck on his lips.
Ezra hums contentedly, and you snuggle back into his chest. After a few moments of a loving stillness, Ezra’s fingers find their way back to yours to toy with your ring.
“Do you remember the night I gave this to you?” Ezra whispers, tracing circles over the tiny gem.
“How could I forget?” You whisper back.
___
You finish your reading and lift your eyes to gauge Ezra’s reaction. A small smile tugs at his lips, but he doesn’t respond.
Silently, Ezra rises to his feet, gathering the cards and stowing them back in your bag.
“Lay down,” Ezra commands. With a grunt, he pulls a strange machine from under the cot. You obey, too curious to argue. Ezra shoves the machine to the centre of the floor.
Ezra switches off the lamp, plunging the tent into absolute darkness. “My mother had one of these when I was a child,” Ezra explains, “I had to construct this one from scrap parts, so it’s not as impressive as the one I grew up with.” With a soft click, the machine turns on and the ceiling is decorated with small flecks of light.
Ezra continues to explain, but you’ve already figured it out. “It’s the stars on Wehouf,” you interrupt with a gasp. Wehouf was where you first met Ezra.
Ezra lays on the cot beside you, wrapping you into a firm embrace.
“You built this for me?” you murmur in disbelief. How did he find time to work on this without you noticing?
“Took me two years,” Ezra presses a kiss to the crown of your head. “The majority of the parts I required aren’t easy to come by in the green.”
“Thank you,” you whisper.
“The entire time I was assembling it, I couldn’t help but meditate over how intensely I feel for you. I never thought I was capable of these feelings. When we first met, you were nothing more than an associate on an endeavour to make a living. I’m not certain when I fell in love,” Ezra’s hand slips under your shirt and he begins tracing gentle circles against your skin with his fingertips. “I don’t think I ever stopped falling. I don’t believe I ever want to. I crave to spend my whole lifetime by your side. I want to chart the view of the stars from every planet, every moon. And I want to do it with your hand in mine.”
“Ezra, I—” You start.
“You could count every single star in the sky, and still only know a fraction of the love I feel for you,” Ezra continues. “And I know you’ve expressed a distaste for it in the past,” Ezra shifts to pull the tiny gem from his pocket. Gently, he slips the metal band around your finger. A perfect fit. “But, I was hoping you’d consider marrying me? I wouldn’t expect it to be legal if that’s not what you want, but—”
“Of course I’ll marry you, Ezra,” You interrupt, shifting to meet his gaze. “I love you more than anything. If it makes you happy, of course, I’ll marry you. And besides, we’re out here alone a solid 98% of the time. So marriage can be whatever we want it to be. Right?”
Ezra breathes a sigh of relief. He wasn’t afraid of you saying no, per se, but he was terrified the question would make you uncomfortable and perhaps cause you to push him away.
“I know I can be an arduous man to love sometimes,” Ezra begins to tear up. “And I still think you deserve better than me. But, you make me exultant beyond any doubt, and you seem content by my side as well. I can’t promise that things will be perfect, because they most certainly won’t. But I will love you eternally, with every fibre of my being. And that, Star, is a promise.”
“Oh, Ezra,” you whisper, “I don’t expect things to always be perfect. I’ve lived with you long enough to know that life will go to shit. A lot. But I’ve also lived with you long enough to know it always ends up okay.” You rest your forehead against Ezra’s. “You deserve more than you think you do. I know you’ve made mistakes. Fuck, I’ve watched you make some seriously questionable decisions. To the point where I sometimes wonder how you’re still alive. But you have more love in this little tuft of hair than most people have in their whole body.” You gently tug on Ezra’s little blond patch of hair to emphasize your point. “And that’s all I care about.” You finish with a brief but passionate kiss.
Ezra doesn’t know how to respond. Tears threaten to escape down his cheeks. “Fuck,” he sobs, pulling you closer until your nose is buried in his neck. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Ezra,” you hum.
Your fingers begin to toy with the ring on your finger. “How’d you manage to get this?” Ezra doesn’t even have to see to know what you’re talking about.
“The gem is from one of our first digs together,” He explains. “It was too diminutive to sell, but I couldn’t bring myself to dispose of it. I got it fixed with a ring two planets back.”
“That must’ve cost a fortune,” you say, suddenly feeling a bit guilty that he felt the need to do such a thing to please you. Sufficient jewellers aren’t easy to find this far out, and because of that, it can be quite expensive to so much as repair a simple ring.
“Nearly depleted my personal savings,” Ezra answers. “But I couldn’t think of a superior way to spend it; now whenever my gaze falls upon your hand, I am reminded of our years spent in each other’s presence.”
“You didn’t have to,” you kiss the soft skin at Ezra’s neck. “I’d have married you without it.”
“Do you not like it?” Ezra asks with a touch of panic to his voice.
“Oh, I love it,” you reassure. Ezra visibly relaxes. “I love everything you get for me.” You pull the ring off your finger to inspect it as you talk. It’s a simple band, with just enough width to have room for the gem embedded in the smooth metal. Upon closer examination, you find a tiny engraving inside. ‘I love you, my Star.’ “I love everything you do for me,” you turn your head to admire the speckles of light above you. You return the ring to your finger. “I always will. Just know I don’t expect to be spoiled. I enjoy it, but your love is enough for me.”
“I know, my Star,” Ezra sighs. “I can’t provide you the life of luxury you deserve. I enjoy doing what I can to make up for it.”
“I have everything I want right here.” You snuggle deeper into Ezra’s chest to admire the stars projected across the ceiling.
He doesn’t respond. For a few moments, the only sounds are the rain, the soft whirring of the star machine, and your breaths combined with Ezra’s. You never saw yourself in this position. But Ezra has a way of turning the lives of those around him upside down. And for you, it somehow feels right.
“I love you, my Star.”
“I love you too, Ezra.”
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hi ! i’m laney ! ada’s background got a little long winded ( sorry not sorry ) but the tldr; sad girl turned sweet party girl turned sad girl again . if you like this post i’ll come plot with you ! i can be reached on disc @ 𝖍𝖊𝖝 𝖌𝖎𝖗𝖑𝖘 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓 𝖆𝖈𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙#5769 . it’s easier for me to keep up with but if you prefer tumblr , that’s cool too .
( scarlett leithold & elizabeth lail ) bopping along to teenage dream by katy perry is adalia haas - foster , the twenty one year old cisfemale thrown back to their psychology days with some of her memories . voted most likely to put others first , ada was known for being devoted & obstinate , go figures you'd always find them making out at a frat party , but grew up to be pragmatic & sepulchral . ✎ laney , 21 , she/her , est .
trigger warning : death , child loss , self - harm , alcoholism , adultery/infidelity , car accidents .
the basics
𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 : adalia josephine haas - foster .
𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 : ada .
𝐚𝐠𝐞 : twenty - one .
𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 : february 14th .
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 / 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬 : cisfemale / her : she .
𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 : san diego , california .
𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 : american . german .
𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 : english .
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨 : idk yet lmao .
𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 : sun kissed skin gleaming under the warm sun , saccharine vowels falling out of glossy lips , too many unanswered texts and missed calls to ever get rid of the notification bubble , an eagerness for affection she could never shake .
background
your unwed parents were elated but nervous to welcome two children into the world at once . you arrived twelve minutes ahead of your sibling . before you , they had never seen a sparkle in someone’s eyes as bright as yours — one deep & cornflower blue , the other dipped in honey with speckles of gold . the first eleven years of your life were blissful , content , easy - going . you were the flower girl at their wedding . your father was a pilot in the marines . your sweet mother didn’t know a thing until it was too late . she was a labor & delivery nurse with long hours . she was a bit of a treehugger . you grew up recycling & never eating a meal with animal products . when she wasn’t working , she was taking care of the kids . she didn’t notice when he came home too l a t e . or when he didn’t swing by during lunch . she had no reason to suspect he was fooling around during his deployments ( and his days off , for that matter ) . one day there was a knock at the door . a fellow officer had come by to tell mrs . haas that she had fallen pregnant ... with mr . haas’s baby . by the time mr . haas pulled into the driveway following a tiresome shift�� , you were long gone .
you adapted to the san francisco area well enough . the burden of two children was getting the best of your mother so you never complained . when your oma came to live with you , things were starting to look up for you . conversations with dad were fleeting but he told you he missed you . and he loved you . he told you about your new baby brother . thirteen would be the last year you received a birthday card from your father before you stopped hearing from him at all . your mother went into travel nursing that same year . she needed an escape . a new start . but she wouldn’t uproot her family again . so as she traveled the continental u.s. , you & your sibling stayed behind with oma . you were always a mommy’s girl . she was your idol . and then she was gone . you formed a friendship with your oma . you learned her recipes , the shows she liked & the songs she loved to sing . but the scars on your wrists proved how lonely you truly were .
your life was dull . you wanted to feel something . cutting led to drinking which led to parties which led to boys . they said they adored you , but you quickly learned that only meant they adored what was in your pants . when you didn’t put out , they made up lies . you kept your circle small from that point forward . you looked out for them & they looked out for you . your brief brushes with love & the lived experience of divorce hardened you . until you saw him . alexsander knew the rumors of course , but that didn’t stop him from asking you on a date . in the beginning you were afraid . stand - offish . but he won your heart . you’d be inseparable ever since . you’d never seen a love quite like his . gentle , passionate , devoted . his flaws were merely tiny hiccups in your happily ever after . you could fix him , the way he fixed you . when it was time for college , you couldn’t let him go . rom valley wasn’t too far away from your old life with oma . with a tank full of gas & a couple of hours on the road , you could easily visit . so you left . you joined a sorority & other organizations . your job at twin peaks was supposed to be ironic but your quite the chatty cathy . lonely men were eager for your conversation , so , the money was good . not that you needed it . but the independence felt nice . you majored in psychology because you wanted to help girls who reminded you of yourself . college was the best time of your life .
you would’ve sworn that happiness would last forever . then you got the call from your mother . she was thousands of miles away & frantic . she said oma had a heart attack . in the three hours it took to drive home , she passed away . you were crushed . but alexsander was there . he made sure you didn’t slip through the cracks . he supported you through your grief . life returned to normal after a few months . the guilt lingered . you smiled through it . when you graduated , you began working for a publishing company . a professor recommended you for the job , actually . you loved it . you got married . you had a baby . alina . because she was the light of your life . if you couldn’t have the perfect family then you would make your own . it slipped alexsander’s mind to pick up his daughter from practice . you chastised him , reminding him that nothing was more important than his family . you were hit by a drunk driver going above the speed limit . only ten minutes away from home . of the two passengers , only you survived . they told you in the hospital that she died on impact . your precious alina didn’t feel any pain . but you did . you couldn’t eat or sleep . you fell into a deep depression . a wife who loses a husband is a widow . a child that loses its parents is an orphan . there’s no word for a parent who loses their child . that’s how awful the loss is . and where was your prince ? drowning his sorrows in brown liquor . when you lost her , you lost him too . you tried to help . you tried to set aside your grief to heal him too . it didn’t work . the man lying next to you was a stranger . so you left . you took your time filing for a divorce . you put all your focus into writing a book . the tale of a girl who lost every love she’d ever known . it was you . a new york times best seller . you toured the world sharing your story . your mother served your husband the papers a month before the reunion . the event completely slipped your mind .
personality
you can be one of the most loyal people any could ever encounter because you’re is so thoughtful & generous . everyone knows you’re goal - oriented . naturally , it’s rather difficult for you to let people in so when you actually do care for someone you’ll will go to the ends of the earth to prove her friendship . even in a platonic sense you’re often embracing others , holding hands or placing pecks on the cheek . you’re innately charismatic , perceptive , & observant . your radiant personality has it’s less admirable side . you’re known to be a little too sensitive , sarcastic , envious , bellicose . a mix of her upbringing & her aquarius sun sign . your life has made you jaded . you’re not the bottle blonde you were in college . you can’t have a meal without having a drink . there’s a crack in your smile that even you can’t hide .
#child death tw#death tw#car accident tw#self harm tw#alcoholism tw#adultery tw#whew that's a lot of triggers#ik this has spelling errors don't @ me
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i’m gonna be a massive dick and ask: 1-100
HAHAHAH alright well here we go then. Also thank you from saving me from the world’s most boring lecture rn.
Everything will be under a read more inorder to save people’s dash but feel free to learn more about me haha.
1. The meaning behind my url:
I feel like its kinda self explanatory. I made this back when I was a giant 5sos fan and I’m too lazy to change it and idk what I would change it to if I did. I might soon though.
2. A picture of me:
3. How many tattoos i have and what they are:
I have 1 tattoo currently and it’s a pinky promise. I got it with a former friend. I have a couple more planned I just need money for them.
4. Last time i cried and why:
Like 2 weeks ago because I miss social interaction.
5. Piercings i have:
I have my ears pierced but never wear earrings, I have another set of piercings and I used to have my nose pierced but it got ripped out at work one day. Do not reccommend it hurt like a bitch.
6. Favorite band:
Not a band per say but I’ve really been into Tones and I lately, specifically never felt the rain.
7. Biggest turn offs:
Definitely not being motivated. I am very driven and like for sure have goals that I am working towards and want to achieve and when someone just has no goals (even small ones) makes me feel like I’m dragging them along and acting as their mother almost. Also people who can’t keep a conversation, like I’m not really one for small talk like I’d rather talk about the mysteries of the universe you know.
8. Top 5 (insert subject):
You didn’t provide a subject so I’m just gonna say songs:
Never felt the rain - Tones and I
Is everybody going crazy? - Nothing but thieves
Complainer - Cold War Kids
Trampoline - Shaed
Don’t stop me now - Queen (permanently in top 5)
9. Tattoos i want:
I have several lined up. My next is going to be a crow with some minimalist geometric lining in the back and some hydrangeas and delphiniums around it on my forearm. Next I’m going to get a small snapdragon along the outside of my forearm. Then I want to get my thigh pieces done one will be a watercolor tree and the other will be watercolor mountains and it’ll have some quotes underneath them.
10. Biggest turn ons:
I like assertive people who aren’t dickheads.
11. Age:
22
12. Ideas of a perfect date:
I’m super easy to please so pretty much any place where we can actually do something because i find that that helps break through the awkwardness of dates.
13. Life goal:
To buy my mom a house and live close to my family
14. Piercings i want:
My nose repierced, maybe like a double nose piercing idk yet.
15. Relationship status:
Happily single
16. Favorite movie:
Grave of Fireflies
17. A fact about my life:
hmmm I have like 7 siblings.
18. Phobia:
Bugs and spiders, the idea of the feeling of them walking on me freaks me out.
19. Middle name:
McKenna
20. Height:
5′4″
21. Are you a virgin?
Nope
22. What’s your shoe size?
women’s 8, men’s 6
23. What’s your sexual orientation?
Tbh still figuring that out but pansexual
24. Do you smoke, drink, or take any drugs?
I drink occasionally but not very often
25. Someone you miss:
my awesome coworkers rn
26. What’s one thing you regret?
Not taking time to focus on myself earlier than I did
27. First celebrity you think of when someone says attractive:
Kate McKinnon
28. Favorite ice cream?
Cheesecake or honeycomb toffee
29. One insecurity:
My body shape/size
30. What my last text message says:
“Most likely yes. I know Steven was walking his dog through the park by himself and a cop was giving him shit for it”
31. Have you ever taken a picture naked?
Ooof yeah
32. Have you ever painted your room?
Yeah my childhood room at both parents house and then i had to change rooms immediately after at one and the eother moved houses.
33. Have you ever kissed a member of the same sex?
Yup!
34. Have you ever slept naked?
Not fully i don’t think
35. Have you ever danced in front of your mirror?
Of course!
36. Have you ever had a crush?
hahaha unfortunately yeah
37. Have you ever been dumped?
Yeah pretty even with the dumped/dumping ratio
38. Have you ever stole money from a friend?
No, if anything i give my friends all my money if they need it
39. Have you ever gotten in a car with people you just met?
Like only people I just me? No. With people that I also know? yeah
40. Have you ever been in a fist fight?
Nah never gotten to that point
41. Have you ever snuck out of your house?
No but I have lied about where I’m going/doing.
42. Have you ever had feelings for someone who didn’t have them back?
Ooof yeah I have
43. Have you ever been arrested?
Nope and I’m trying to keep it that way
44. Have you ever made out with a stranger?
Yeah, it wasn’t very good though
45. Have you ever met up with a member of the opposite sex somewhere?
Yeah for like dates or hangouts
46. Have you ever left your house without telling your parents?
Yeah, it didn’t go over too well but it was several years ago
47. Have you ever had a crush on your neighbor?
Nah all of my neighbors have been way younger than me or like 70
48. Have you ever ditched school to do something more fun?
Yeah I do it with college all the time haha
49. Have you ever slept in a bed with a member of the same sex?
Yeah mostly platonically though
50. Have you ever seen someone die?
No and I’m glad that I haven’t
51. Have you ever been on a plane?
Yeah a ton actually
52. Have you ever kissed a picture?
I’m sure I have in my cringey teenage phase.
53. Have you ever slept in until 3?
Not quite that late as I’m a relatively early riser, the lastest I’ve slept in is like 1
54. Have you ever loved someone or miss someone right now?
I’ve loved people yeah but I don’t miss anyone in that way rn. Like every relationship has ended for a reason.
55. Have you ever laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by?
Yeah it’s a really relaxing thing to do
56. Have you ever made a snow angel?
Yeah but not a huge fan of it cuz i don’t like the cold
57. Have you ever played dress up?
Yeah I’m pretty sure most young girls do
58. Have you ever cheated while playing a game?
Yeah I’m sure I have
59. Have you ever been lonely?
Yeah but I like to try to move past it and not fixate on it, easier said than done though.
60. Have you ever fallen asleep at work/school?
Yeah I was super sick at school one day and fell asleep from all the medicine I had to take
61. Have you ever been to a club?
Nah I’m more of a bar person if I’m gonna go out with people
62. Have you ever felt an earthquake?
Yeah a couple since living in California
63. Have you ever touched a snake?
Yeah my brother used to own one
64. Have you ever ran a red light?
Yeah on accident, I was driving home from a really late night at work and was kinda zoned out so I didn’t even realize it was red. Luckily it was a super small street and it was late enough no one was on the roads.
65. Have you ever been suspended from school?
Nope I’m a good girl.
66. Have you ever had detention?
Yeah I was late too many times for a class
67. Have you ever been in a car accident?
Yeah I rear ended someone on my way to a new job like a couple days after getting my new car
68. Have you ever hated the way you look?
Yes I am not happy with the way I look right now but I’m working on accepting my body and chaning the things that I can
69. Have you ever witnessed a crime?
I don’t believe so.
70. Have you ever pole danced?
No but I’d love to learn sometime.
71. Have you ever been lost?
Definitely, I’m not the greatest with directions
72. Have you ever been to the opposite side of the country?
Yup I used to live in michigan and now I live in Cali
73. Have you ever felt like dying?
Unfortunately yeah
74. Have you ever cried yourself to sleep?
Also yes unfortunately
75. Have you ever sang karaoke?
Yeah I love it
76. Have you ever done something you told yourself you wouldn’t?
Yeah but it didn’t turn out to be that bad
77. Have you ever laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose?
I don’t think so but maybe
78. Have you ever slept with someone at least 5 years older or younger?
No but I have dated someone who was 5 years older than me
79. Have you ever kissed in the rain?
No but I’d love to given the opportunity
80. Have you ever sang in the shower?
All the time
81. Have you ever made out in a park?
No, no one ever wants to go with me
82. Have you ever dream that you married someone?
Yeah but I couldn’t see who it was
83. Have you ever glued your hand to something?
Not my whole hand but definitely a finger
84. Have you ever got your tongue stuck to a flag pole?
No haha those are too dirty
85. Have you ever gone to school partially naked?
Not completely, but there was a time where I was so tired i forgot to put a shirt on under my zip up hoodie and didn’t realize until i went to take it off.
86. Have you ever been a cheerleader?
No but I was a dancer
87. Have you ever sat on a roof top?
No but I want to at somepoint
88. Have you ever brushed your teeth?
Yeah gotta be hygenic
89. Have you ever been too scared to watch scary movies alone?
All the time, I don’t do scary movies
90. Have you ever played chicken?
Yeah a couple of times
91. Have you ever been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on?
I don’t think so but I wouldn’t put it past my brothers
92. Have you ever been told you’re hot by a complete stranger?
I’ve had people hit on me at work
93. Have you ever broken a bone?
Yup my right wrist when I was 3.
94. Have you ever been easily amused?
Yeah I’m sure I have
95. Have you ever laughed so hard you cried?
Yeah a couple of times
96. Have you ever mooned/flashed someone?
No not that confident haha
97. Have you ever cheated on a test?
Yeah a couple
98. Have you ever forgotten someone’s name?
All the time, it takes a couple of interactions for it to really stick
99. Have you ever met someone who didn’t seem real?
Yeah but always when I’ve had surface level interactions
100. Give us one thing about you that no one knows.
Hmmmm. I’m a hopeless romantic but don’t like to show it.
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