#im repeating this as my mantra to get this done

[muchmossymess]

you can do whatever you want forever you can do whatever you want forever you dont need to do colours or shading or clean up lineart or use multiple layers or write good or draw the character correctly you can do whatever you want forever you can do whatever you want forever-

[zerobaselove]

you're worth it | han yujin

pairing: yujin x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1001

warnings: none! lowercase intended, not proofread!

notes: yujinnnnn!! my little guy ugh he is just so cutie i am so devastated. anyways this was so fun to write as i procrastinate getting ready for work LMAO so i hope y'all like it <3 thank u anon for this idea it was so lovely (i know i didn't go too in depth w the actual sleepover part im SORRYYY)

you didn't consider yourself someone who got nervous particularly easy. especially not when it involved your best friend yujin. everything was easy with him. was. before you had developed a little crush on the boy.

you had done a pretty good job at ignoring the way your heart would speed up when you caught him looking at you, or when your hands brushed when you walked side by side. but you weren't sure if that same ignorance would hold up for tonight, your first sleepover at his place.

it's not a big deal. you repeated in your head. repeating the phrase like a mantra as you approached the door for his dorm. you had met a couple of his roommates in passing but the idea of meeting so many new people definitely didn't help the nerves that bubbled up in your chest.

raising your hand you knocked on the door a few times, the once silent apartment erupted in muffled noises. screams, maybe? you considered, not even having a moment to consider why there would be screaming before the door opened to yujin with a sheepish grin on his face.

you almost didn't notice the swarm of other guys standing in the apartment with wide grins on their faces. some giggling to themselves or whispering, while one you recognized, hanbin, lightly hit them on the arm in an attempt to get them to stop. you couldn't help but giggle at the group of boys, giving them a small wave before greeting yujin.

yujin hadn't realized why you were giggling until he turned around to walk with you into the apartment, letting out a groan, "please just ignore them they're being annoying." he put emphasis on the last word, some of the boys feigning offense, hands over their chests like they had just been betrayed.

"we just wanted to meet your little friend," one said with a wiggle of their eyebrows, "is that so bad?"

yujin let out another huff before reluctantly introducing you to the group. you soon learned the two giggling to each other were gyuvin and gunwook. everyone was so nice and welcoming to you that you immediately felt at ease there. the teasing remarks to yujin also seemed to help as you all laughed together for a bit.

who you remembered to be matthew spoke up as he faced you and yujin, "yujin you're really gonna let them stand there carrying their bags this whole time? not very gentlemanly of you." he shook his head, jokingly wagging his finger as he told him off causing a laugh to leave your chest before you insisted it was okay and that you didn't mind.

"no he's right, you can put your stuff in my room, follow me." yujin smiled shyly, leading you to his bedroom. you both tried to ignore the whistles and whispers from the boys behind you as the door shut behind you both.

yujin sat on his bed with a sigh, "sorry about them, they're a lot." he chuckled. you put your bag at the end of his bed before plopping down next to him.

"don't apologize," you reassured him with a smile, "they're really fun actually, i was more worried if they'd like me or not."

he turned to you with a smile, "oh don't worry, they loved you before you even got here." you let out a relieved sigh before you took a moment to process what he had said, raising an eyebrow.

"yujin," you smirked, holding back a giggle "do you talk about me to them?"

his eyes widened at the accusation, knowing deep down what it implied about his feelings towards you. "well," he brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly, "you see," his voice trailed off.

"so that's a yes?" you giggled, placing your hand on his, "don't worry, i think it's cute." as soon as the word cute left your mouth yujin started stuttering some denial as his eyes darted between you and your hand on his.

watching the way his brain started malfunctioning, you knew you were the only chance of this conversation continuing, so you opened your mouth again, feeling more confident now. "i don't know if you know this jinnie," the nickname rolling off your tongue so naturally, "but i like you, a lot."

you watched as he processed your confession, a wide smile spreading across his face. "oh!" he exclaimed, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart, "i uh," his hand squeezed yours lightly, looking for reassurance, "like you too, also a lot." you giggled at the boy in front of you, his smile becoming infectious, soon mirroring his wide grin.

"well good," you smiled, placing a kiss on his cheek, "now let's head back out there before they start getting the wrong idea." you didn't even give him time to think about the small romantic action before you dragged him up and to his door.

what you weren't expecting as you opened the door was the sight of 8 boys toppling over each other. yujin let out a whine at their antics, "were you guys listening to our whole conversation?" he exclaimed, not even that surprised that they would do such a thing.

"pffft no way! we were just,"gyuvin glanced around the hallway, "uhm," his voice lowered to a whisper, "gunwook help me out."

gunwook perked up, straightening out his tshirt, "we were just expecting the door hinges," he said nonchalantly, "one of them has been squeaking and we were trying to see which one it was." he came up with the excuse so quickly and with such confidence that you almost believed him.

you both laughed as you shook your head and walked past the group of boys, making your way to the kitchen, "you might wanna get used to stuff like that, especially since you'll probably be coming over more." yujin smiled as he grabbed your hand, giving it a light squeeze.

"don't worry yujin, you're worth it."

[st4rgzer]

STRAWBERRY WINE matt sturniolo

summary: I tried to make it about the song “strawberry wine” by Noah Kahan but it ended up just being fluff about strawberry wine

genre: fluff

cw!: alcohol

a/n: I surprisingly didn’t end up writing something super depressing! wow. Also can y’all tell I really like Noah Kahan, also this is very short cause it isn’t angst.

“so what are you drinking?” Matt said, putting his hand on my shoulder, l flinched as his cold fingers grazed the space under my ear.

“strawberry wine” I said throwing my head back to look at him, smiling as I shook the glass that contained a red, almost neon, liquid. He furrowed his brows in a repulsed gesture.

“strawberry wine? I didn’t know you liked wine?” He pulled out a chair and sat next to me, his arm resting around my shoulders as he grabbed the wine glass, glancing at me for permission, before sipping it, a surprised look dawning on him. I laughed at him before pouring another cup of the same wine.

“see? you gotta try new things, you like it no?” I said knowingly, grinning at him and handing him the glass. I laid my head on his chest as his arm remained hung over my shoulders, and sighed comfortably as he stroked my cheek with his thumb.

Matt was always scared to try new things, get out of his comfort zone, but he always ended up doing so, he discovered the feeling of accomplishment after finally coming around to try something he’d never done before. He’d come to me for help if he was struggling with said thing, before getting his first tattoo, he spent about a two months with a fake tattoo to see if he liked the placement, asking me if it looked good, repeating it every day, and every day he’d get the same response.

“But are you sure it looks good? maybe anoth-“ I interrupted him, “Matt it looks perfect, don’t worry anymore and lay down with me” I sighed as he rolled his eyes. I opened my arms to him as a smile plastered onto his face, groaning in defeat and laying down his head on my chest as I ran my fingers soothingly through his scalp. He muttered something I couldn’t quite hear.

“What did you say?” I said as he looked up briefly “I said thank you, and I love you” He spoke before nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck, I giggled as his rough stubble tickled my skin. I sighed and looked to the ceiling, placing kisses on the top of his head once in a while, content with the silence, not needing much more. A bottle of strawberry wine adorned my night stand, I glanced at it and smiled, remembering Matt’s discovery of it.

His arms hung lazily around my body as I had a bottle of strawberry wine hugged between my arms, our bodies splayed on a cotton blanket. I put aside the drink after taking a sip, leaving it on the dirt of the deserted road beside us, turning my body around and letting my head fall onto his chest, melting into his embrace, his chin pressed on the top of my head. I listened to his heartbeat, the same heartbeat that I fell in love with from the start, the one that created the recurrent melody I hear in my dreams. My eyelids grew heavy and the beats echoed in my mind as I started to drift off. Matt kissed my shoulder gently, and repeated the almost daily mantra.

“Goodnight, my love”

Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the way he made life a little more bearable, a little more beautiful, but it was definitely love.

a/n: please im pushing myself to write fluff so help is appreciated 🙏 (i’m very sensible so be careful)

taglist: @dwntwn-strnlo @oneirophobic @iha8you @lovelysturniolo @gabbylovesreading @gaytoadwithapopsicle @stvrni0lo @ssturniolo @strniolo @ifilwtmfc @sturniolol

The follower count is growing so please tell me if you wanna be added!

[howlsofbloodhounds]

imagine Killer being both really touch starved and extremely touch averse especially if he has bad germaphobia.

Everytime Killer feels the brush of someone bones against his own it burns it reminds him of the story of Icarus flying too close to the sky his was wings burn and he drowns in the cold water below. Killer isn't sure if he would rather be burned or drown in the empty cold feeling. Going back and forth to wanting any form of touch and then immediately hating it and wanting them to stop. Its more then just that. He hasn't been touched by someone in so long that every touch feels like too much, it makes him feel vulnerable and weak, along with feelings of extreme disgust and even fear.

Also little extra blurb about Killer with germaphobia as someone who's a major germaphobe it can become more or less intense depending on emotions especially things like anxiety the more anxious I am the more germaphobic I get. Often having to repeat reassuring mantra to lower the anxiety of germs. I imagine it could go anywhere from freely touching things unless especially gross from being Unwilling to touch anything without a feeling if dudgust or fear abd feeling the need to wash anything that touched what was perched as germs which for me can be things like a house key, tables, door knobs, etc I really want some nice gloves to protect my hands cause I keep overwashing them.

Also Killer gives strong ocd vibes or im just projecting and germaphobia is common in those with ocd. I feel like his training and life with Chara would have him develop ocd. He wants things done a certain way or feels like something bad will happen or its just the obviously correct way to be done. Can also see him doing little rituals that he feels increases his luck or things that have to be done to not be cursed with bad luck. Turning the door knob to his room at least three times to ensure its locked, never walking on the opposite side of a pole as someone else, avoiding the first or last step, etc. (These are all things I do lol)

~Musical Anon

Stares at my Stage 4 Killer with OCPD adaptations headcanon. (Definitely not the same as OCD, but the need for order, control, things have to happen like this, you have to follow the rules and the routines, I have to be perfect to be safe/loved/accepted.

When in St4 the rules are the agreements of the Deal and the outlines of the Directive, but the traits would likely show up in other Stages such as 2.

The intense fear of something bad happening if it isn’t done or a rule isn’t followed is moreso from trauma and conditioning and likely indoctrination, although I can definitely see him having some type of compulsions and rituals alleviate fear/anxiety, ones tied to survival and the fear of failure perhaps—such as, in the context of my little directive headcanons—drawing little upside down hearts somewhere whenever subconsciously anxious or fearful (although 2 would deny feeling absolutely anything) or as a mindless automatic habit or whenever prevented from killing a target as if to appease some unseen watching force.

And in lower Stages, doing this absentmindedly when stressed or scared—such as whenever awaiting a punishment for failing a mission in some way (especially if he either accidentally slipped up and killed someone or was trigged into Stage 4, or simply to handle the dissonance of not killing a target) mindlessly drawing little upside down hearts on his arms with his fingers or in the air and not really understanding why. )

I can also see him absently checking and rechecking everything (such as rather obsessively checking up on the gang and that they’re still alive and attended to, not because he really cares too much about the outcome, but because the actions give him a sense of control and makes sure he’s adhering to his duties as Nightmares right hand), and probably forming rituals around the steps of caring for his weapons and tools, and arranging them in certain ways because it feels more familiar that way and he does it almost automatically now.

[gayeddieagenda]

seven sentence sunday

tagged by @sibylsleaves <3

ive been ping-ponging between fics in an atrocious way this past week. today im mostly working on finishing up stand there and get hit, which is finally getting close to done, but im also taking some detours to work on a new post-s4 fic. buck is having a normal time:

It's great, and sometimes Buck wakes up to nightmares about Eddie dying in his arms. It's great, and sometimes Buck can still remember the taste of Eddie's blood in his mouth. It's great, and nobody knows about any of it, not the nightmares or the fear that rises in Buck's lungs late at night or the fact that the only nights when he doesn't feel any of it are the ones that Buck spends in Eddie's bed. Maddie asks how Buck's been lately and all Buck says is that he's fine. Fine, fine, fine--he's been repeating it like a mantra all summer, to Maddie and Bobby and to Eddie himself. It's a hot summer in California and Eddie is healing. How could Buck be anything less than fine?

mom it's MY turn to write the melodramatic post-shooting fic!! tagging @iinryer

[astarionancuntnin]

WIP Whenever

thank you for the tag @nyx-knox!! im finally getting to work on chapter 2 of bad blood. angst train is departing, all aboaaaard:

Gods, why did he have to say the things he said? Out here, he was vulnerable again and without the artefact near, who knew how long he could make it before turning into a monstrosity? He could only hope they were near enough if only to keep the effect of the artefact working on him. It’s not like he could go back to them either. Now, he was on his own, again. Truly, utterly alone. As the dread started to set in into his mind, he shook his head, seizing himself back with an artificial confidence, one that accompanied him like a devil on his shoulder.  To the Hells with them, I don't need them, he thought. I don’t need her.  I don’t need anyone. I'll go to Baldur's Gate and face Cazador on my own. He kept repeating this mantra to himself over and over again while he made his way through the Shadow Lands, and as the words echoed in his head, he realised how wrong they were. His false bravado might’ve worked once upon a time, but after bonding with this group of weirdos, the lies he tried to tell himself only got him so far. In truth, he could never face Cazador alone. Hells, he barely managed to hold his own in their group, often getting saved in extremis, whether it be a healing spell from Shadowheart or a close kill from Karlach, or even a destructive spell from the sorceress. Tav… Just as he thought about her, his eyes fell upon the carnage they had experienced at the Last Light Inn. How he felt when he thought she was dead, the suffocating fear of losing her, how he would've given everything he didn't have to have her back, only to ultimately lose her for what he had done. Shit. I need to fix this.

tagging if you have something to share (no pressure!!): @tragedybunny @bardic-inspo @spite-made-me @marlowethebard and @dabblesindrabbles uwu

[liauditore]

The thoughts, hand em over. (No pressure but I wanna hear em :D)

oh god what have u done.

context.

OK SO,. (BE WARNED THIS IS LIKE. REALLY LONG AND BRAINROTTY.)

first off i must put here as per the law i am not in fact armchair psychoanalysing mc youtubers grian and mister scott S. major this is me looking at the 3L series as is it were a performance and their actions in said series as characters and blah blah blah so on so forth this is Fanfiction and Shipping and woowoOOwoo We Are Being Sillyyy with a miku song.

i'm gonna infodump abt a bunch of stuff including some heavy topics like emotional abuse and dubcon (NOT in detail the song just has those vibes)

so uh if you're reading this for Some Reason know that 👍

ALRIGHT WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY Vampire the song itself is (at least my reading of it) a song about a toxic relationship. The singer is very much not a Good Person and the main chorus is just them disregarding their partner's needs and pushing the relationship even further.

But the singer isn't completely irredeemably evil, since they really do love the person they're abusing (in a childish sense of the word love, anyway) and seem to be at least acutely aware of how they're not really a good person.

But of course, they "eh whatever" these self-reflections pretty fast cus they're having fun with the relationship. This specific set of translyrics reads to me like a bit of self-victimizing as well like "oh, I'm so tortured by feeling like a bad person because of the way I treat you. But I love you so you don't really have a choice but to forgive me."

Speaking of translyrics this is where Micchi's version comes in. While I ADORE Rachie and Anthong's version I do have some nitpicks..? And one of those that I am unreasonably pet peeved by is this right here.

In the original JP version, the lyric is simply kimi mo vampire, meaning simply You're (also) a Vampire. It's alot more obvious a change and hits harder imo than "My little Vampire" which still puts the singer in the position of power.

Micchi's version of the lyrics on the other hand stick a lot closer to the original

And I might just be imagining this but there seems to be a switch in the power dynamic in this version as well. The singer is now inviting their partner to be "rough" with them and the repeating mantra of "you're the ONLY ONE for me" sounds more desperate than anything else.

Micchi's lyrics in general are a bit more wet cat coded. I still prefer Rachie's as a whole but Micchi's singer definitely seems to be more regretful of what they've done and blame themselves for essentially turning their partner into a different, more hostile person. (aka turning them into a vampire lol)

In a lot of ways the vampire metaphor is really unsubtle. Bloodsucking parasite attaches themselves to someone and turns them into a bloodsucking parasite as well.

SO HOW THE FUCK DID I GET GRAIN AND SCOOTER FROM THIS WELL.....

When I think about 3L one of the main things that lights up the lightbulb in my mind is the parallels between all of the four "main" partnerships, with Renchantyn vs Desert Duo as the most obvious comparison point but I think they all mirror and subvert each other really well.

Grian/Scott are like birds of a feather to me in a similar sense that Scott/Cleo are, but while Scott and Cleo have this mutual understanding with each other with Grian it's a bit more complicated.

I CAN't. FOR THE LIFE OF ME. FIND IT AGAIN bUT there was a bit in Third Life when Scott said to Grian "and maybe once our husbands are dead we can be free" and Grian laughs and that basically inspired this Whole Thing 🙏🙏

(an apology for all the wholesome flower husbands shippers who i know follow me cus im about to unleash my full toxic yaoi adaptation of them) (desert duo fans from what ive seen are already insane so you're okay)

In my own mind Grian and Scott are both somewhat.. manipulative? Might be a bit harsh of a word? But they definitely play to survive more than some of the other people stuck in there with them. (cleo too but she sucks at it and she can get her character analysis essay next week)

At least in my view, their partnerships with Jimmy and Scar respectively were born more out of a need for safety in numbers and to get someone to essentially keep them safe until they're no longer of use. Grian definitely felt bad about creeper-ing Scar in the first episode but I don't think he was quite expecting to spend the whole series in debt to him 😭😭

Scott (like the singer in the song oh my god) isn't really a monster so to speak, just someone who has a messed up view of love. Probably has some sort of tragic backstory that explains the way he is that we'll get to see in the anime adaptation idk. He does care for Jimmy but in like.. the way someone might care for and love a pet. You LOVE your dog to fucking death but you wouldn't like.. trust your dog with taxes or respect its autonomy.

also these lyrics are both hilarious to me considering the uh current brainrot.

Grian on the other hand probably Wants to be like Scott and be able to have someone wrapped around his fingers like that but he can't cus it's Scar not Jimmy and he's Grian and not Scott. I imagine he'd get tired of Scar's shenanigans when he's with him but as soon as he's left the room it's all why's it so quiet D: where's scar D:

I like to think that everytime he THINKS he has a handle on Scar finally and can actually stand a chance to survive this thing Scar does something completely unhinged off the wall and Grian's like WAIT WAIT WAIT NO

basically he gets way too attached and doesn't like it and to make it worse he has no idea wtf is going thru Scar's head👍

SO when they eventually team up I think Scott and Grian would have this little "wink wink nudge nudge they don't know" kinda thing going on.

and then in my little fanfiction world somewhere along the line Scott would end up sensing that Oh, We're actually not exactly the same.. interesting.. and kind of start looking at Grian with this sense of amusement/pity cus aww, look at you getting all attached to the person you were planning to betray, that's so cute and Grian would see the worst of himself reflected back to him via Scott. It ends up strengthening Desert Duo's relationship if anything else.

Of course then Jimmy dies and Scott's emotionally destroyed by it but he's still like.. skirting around it. I'd like to think he gaslights himself with any genuine Emotions he has cus like.. he knew this was coming, this is all according to plan, so why would he feel anything for him now that he's gone?

While Scott gets some time to come to terms with the fact that he actually cared about Jimmy too late for him to repair their relationship Grian and Scar end up punching eachother to death in a cactus ring. The End 👍

tl;dr i need to pick up writing fanfics cus oh my god

[onetimetwotimesthreetimess]

continue reaction for chapter 13!

Thank you for giving me the best few years of my life. I will never forget your heart. I will love you forever.

i wanna wack alec with those flowers i really do

Cat sighed heavily. “Alec called us. Said you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

hes like chocolate i know he can hurt me i cant stop loving yk

Even Magnus’s own brain wasn’t his anymore. Because if it was—then it would believe the words that Magnus had been repeating for days.

how down bad you are to have your brain turn against you in hating mantra

Well, he would show Alec Lightwood how he didn’t need his care anymore.

maybe this all in alec master plan, he could take care of magnus from a distance and evoke spike, which is like one of the most powerful reasons for doing anything

The tune came out all scratchy and broken.

fucking hell-

the next part my doctor also said it hurting me but i let you know im hearing cornelia street piano version while re-reading this again and it hurt like finding out you forgot to plug the rice cooker and its dinner time

“I’m Lieutenant Commander from Navy SEAL. This is about national security. We need to stop a flight from leaving.” Alec lied through his teeth and heard Jace chuckle at it.

sorry to say i would report the shit out of this nobody is abusing power for love on my watch

Magnus could be done with his bullshit and refuse to take him back.

worry not magnus will leave you in the dust in hiadt you'll be more ancient than dinosaur

Simon grinned. “So what if we didn’t get the airport reunion. You can find him in London and profess your undying love while it’s raining. That’s a great reunion too.”

why would anyone risk catching a cold for romance ion understand dude ion understand dudeeeee

Tessa shook her head. “No, Alec. He’s not out for work. Magnus isn’t here. He never came to London.”

finding magnus- the sequel to finding nemo we all been looking for

He spent the next eight hours listening to the album till he reached New York.

going on two eight hours flights back to back...top 10 thing i can never do for a man im sorry yall

He felt suddenly choked up. “I—I really thought he’d be here. I really thought I was home.”

delusion always hurt when wee get ice water splashed to the face

“Long. Had a boring meeting with the execs for my next tour. I swear it could have easily been an email.” Magnus said dramatically.

i would actually sue if i have to write more than 3 emails a day

“You’d look so hot in a skirt Alec. If you really loved me, you would have done that for me.”

alec pls wear a mini skirt im begging you full two knees

“Twelve.”

damn this lists some megamind shit Shakespeare WHO??!??

“I’m not even one percent sure about anything. Just you. I can’t escape you, Alec Lightwood. And neither do I want to.”

the a in alec lightwood stand for addicted okay i'll stop

Alec smiled and grabbed Magnus’s face. “I could spend my entire life with just your memories. But memories have got nothing on you, Magnus Bane. I want the real thing in my life back.”

still remember cheering on alec accidental husband stealer era and now we're at this im so proud (he should steal husband more imo)

jajsjsjsj sequel to finding Nemo had me cracking so hard bro.

Also yes, that list was sone megamind shit—I am extremely proud of it lol. And yes, the A in Alec Lightwood stands for addiction and rightfully so.

Also I would never travel for a man either but it’s okay if a man suffers because of other men it’s to balance the scales jklljshhsll

ALEC ACCIDENTAL HUSBAND ERA JFC HOW FAR WE HAVE COME Y’ALL

[bandsanitizer]

im also here with questions now that i'm here anyway so here ya go: 2, 3, and also 7 because i saw your reply and would like to know more about your thoughts, either on that or a different topic xoxo bella part 3

hello hello bella @clumsyclifford !! thank you for the questions!

2. What’s a medium you’ve always wanted to try?

My secret dream career that I’ll never truly pursue because I don’t like the idea of being in the industry or anything is being a lyricist, so I suppose songwriting/music is probably the top medium I would love to try one day. Music has been a pretty important part of my life and the idea of creating it seems beautiful.

But technically I have done music as I’ve been in band, etc., so out of any of the media I have yet to try… Glass. Glass blowing seems so cool to try and I love what you can do with glass! And all the pretty colors?? A dream!

3. Show us one of your favorite pieces by somebody else.

Just one? 🥺 This is a difficult one bc there’s so many to choose from… Gosh… I’ll go with “Repetition” by Phil Kaye. (link is to a youtube video of a performance of the poem) Foremost, I’d say he’s my favorite spoken-word poet / poet in general. His Date & Time book is wonderful and I suppose as someone with a stutter as well, this poem speaks a lot to me in different ways. It’s not the poem that made me fall in love with spoken word but it’s definitely the poem that showed me what spoken word can do that you just can’t get with written poetry.

7. What’s a topic you would like to explore?

Okay okay! So as you saw the reply infidelity is a topic I’d like to explore in writing too. I suppose for me, part of it is wanting to explore how the person who cheated would navigate a new relationship. “You aren’t your worst mistakes” or along those lines is a phrase/mantra/quote that I’d tie to the idea. I’m not a psychology expert or anything, but I’d say there’s a significant set of people who don’t just cheat for the sake of it? Perhaps there’s underlying insecurity or something. Maybe not. Either way, I’ve definitely thought of writing something that takes place later from the event of relationship where infidelity took place, where it’s navigating a new relationship and not repeating mistakes or letting past mistakes prevent change. A lot of layers to it maybe, but partially I’ve overall been interested in the concept of how people cannot change or grow if they are not given the opportunity to. And conversely, the capacity people have for change and growth when given the chance.

Outside of that, I really really really want to write something with an overarching math metaphor. Like the title is some math concept and by the end of it you learn the math concept just barely through whatever the hell goes on in the story. So the topic of math I guess. something super nerdy.

[bulldagger-bait]

im so mad but meditation works. I kept being told to do mindfulness and meditation in therapy and i fucking hated it bc of how i was taught. But i just had to learn to do it differently and in a way that worked for me.

For me mindfulness is engaging in sensory seeking behaviour and completely dialing in and focusing on it and how it feels. Its trying to ground myself bc im chronically dissociated.

I was taught that meditation meant setting aside 15 mins a day and listening to the same fucking audio track. I loathed it. I never did it. It was so fucking boring and it was hard and i didnt want to do it.

But now i do it every day. Sometimes multiple times. And it helps.

I started for a stupid reason. I was getting super into star wars and i thought it was cool that the jedi meditated and i was like: i wonder if i can do that. They seem zen, i want to be zen.

So i started with just closing my eyes and doing some deep breathing and repeating a short mantra in my head. Like.... Less than a minute at a time. Its a bit embarrassing but i stole the mantra from the jedi code bc it was just an easy jumping off point. Id do a slightly altered version:

I will not focus on emotions, i will seek peace. I will not focus on ignorance, i will seek knowledge. I will not focus on passion, i will seek serenity. I will not focus on chaos, i will seek harmony.

Just. Repeated that a few times in my head while breathing slowly. And then id be done. And then over time, ive just naturally ended up doing it longer. I stop the moment i feel like stopping. I dont force myself to do it for a certain amount of time.

If i have to force myself to do something, then i will start hating it. But having a blasé attitude and just engaging in it for as long as i want? Thats easy. Once i get bored of it, i stop.

But now when i take a moment to be mindful, or i take a moment to meditate, im finding that i can easily do it for upwards of 20 mins.

I havent been meditating for long enough that i can "clear my mind" or whatever, or stop thinking. Im always thinking. So repeating a mantra helps. Its something to consciously focus on. But sometimes i dont do that. Sometimes i just let my mind wander and daydream. But if i do that, i also like to just take a few moments to try and center myself first.

Its worked wonders. I feel better. I feel so much more content, and so much more at peace. Because i do it randomly: like when im in a beautiful place, or when im feeling relaxed, or while im doing something that feels pleasant -- it means that when i get upset and stressed, im able to instantly reach for meditation as my first skill.

I got really stressed and worked up. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. Maybe 15 seconds. Instantly felt better. Was it massively better? No. But it brought me back from a place of panic. Even if it was just 5%. It made me realise that i dont have control over certain things, but what i do have control over in that moment is myself.

Dont get me wrong. Ive still had a massive breakdown, and really bad stress episodes. But i was able to stop myself from having one bad moment, and i was able to reduce my amount of suffering for another two. Thats worth it to me.

Like, lets give some comparative numbers. Just like, me giving a random hypothetical.

Lets say that without meditation I would have had 5 stressful moments, subjectively i experienced this amount of unhappiness:

Caused 10/10 distress

Caused 5/10 distress

Caused 6/10 distress

Caused 3/10 distress

Caused 7/10 distress

Then lets say that i experienced the same situations but I had meditation in my toolkit, it would look like this.

Started at 10/10. Meditation didnt help.

Started at 5/10. Meditation brought it down to 4/10

Started at 6/10. Meditation brought it down to 4/10.

Started at 3/10. Meditation brought it down to 0/10

Started at 7/10. Meditation brought it down to 6.5/10

Like... Thats enough for me. I experienced less suffering. Instead of having a week with a 62% angst score, I had a week with 49%. Thats a significant decrease to me. Thats worth it in my opinion.

I wish i had found this way of doing things sooner, but im also just happy i found it at all.

[sappygentlemen]

PART TWO ☝️‼️ to basement dweller

As always. These are my own self indulgent fanfics for right now. later, im gonna write a wider variety of things when I have more energy ‼️‼️🤌 but for now, have this part two, to our beloved Yandere declan x Yandere Sam

TW: DARK, GORE DESCRIPTIONS, TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS/ATTACHMENTS/BEHAVIORS. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION ☝️‼️

His eyes. His stupid green eyes. I think by now Ive spent so much of the last couple hours, staring into them, that I've begun to despise the very color. Those eyes. Staring at me. Lifeless. Cold. Dead...

Those stupid eyes had looked at what was mine. The same eyes that were teary, sobbing, somehow screaming the words "STOP. PLEASE. IM BEGGING." despite the lack of words coming from his throat. The same throat that currently had wire marks, from where I tried to be nice. I tried to be fair. I tried to be good. I wanted to avoid all this. It's his fault really. His fault for trying to take Declan away from me. Away from who he truly belongs with.

I thought deeply, running over the events in my mind. What took place during these four hours playing like a mantra in my head, stuck, on repeat like a broken record. Just four hours ago, I had stalked this heathen. This whore. I tracked him, followed him. All the way to a park. Such a fool, walking in a dark park alone. He was practically inviting me. I didn't even hesitate to wrap that barbed wire around his throat. I tried to be fair. I tried to be good, but he just had to ruin it. He just had to fight back. Had to bite me. His Filthy mouth has touched me. I'll definitely have to take quite a few showers tonight, I can't have any of his DNA ANYWHERE. near. Declan. He is mine. Completely mine. Speaking of Declan, I've already forgiven him, for what he did.. who he did .. it's not his fault. He was tempted. Lured in by this. Whore. I made sure to deep clean the house before I left. Checking every nook and cranny. Washing every piece of clothing. I made sure there was no longer a presence of stray brown hairs. I made sure Declan was clean. That our home was clean.

I don't regret what I've done. I've done it countless times. Though, for some reason, I can't forget those eyes. Every other part of the event was just routine. Nothing but business. After he had fought back, I had to stab him. I had to. I had to make sure he didn't escape. Didn't go back to Declan. I stabbed him 6 times. One for every hair on my bed. MY bed. His Filthy blood was all over me, all over my tools. Dripping down my body and my clothes. So much of it. Everywhere. So disgusting, from all the stabbings, and the handling of his dead body. Making sure he was dead.

Those eyes. Those emerald green eyes. Even as I take his body out of my deep freezer. I can't get them out of my head. Declan had always loved the color green. My eyes were brown. I would've already taken those green eyes out, and replaced them with mine, but I'm not quite smart enough for that severe of a surgery. I need to work on that. Need to be better. For Declan.

Declan.

Declan would be home soon. I knew what my punishment would be. It would be much more severe this time. It would be worse then anything before. I already hadn't eaten for some days, not being able to stomach food. Not after seeing my bed a mess. Not after seeing those eyes. Hiding in my closet. Thinking I was too stupid to see them shining back at me. I dragged the body along, outside, into our large yard. Throwing it into the wood chipper, as if it was any other day. The neighborhood stray dog would probably eat the evidence come morning. Declan would know. The stench infiltrated my nose. Invading my senses. It was me. I smelt like blood, blood. So much blood. My pants and shirt were soaked in it. I was soaked in it. Every weapon I used had been heavily sanitized and cleaned by now. Neatly put away as if they were never touched. But he would know. He would know. He always did. No matter how well I cleaned. He would always know. He knew me so well. This is why I needed him to stay. I need him to stay.

Several hours and lots of pacing later.

He hasn't come home. It's 4 in the morning and He's not home yet. What did I do. Did I upset him?.. I must have. It must be me. I wasn't good. I didn't try hard enough. I could've been better. Could've done better for him. He's too good for me. I knew he'd leave.

Just as I was starting to spiral, I hear the soft click of a key in door knob. Instantly, I ran to the door, waiting for it to open. Waiting to jump into my beloveds arms!! My dear Declan!!! He came back!! I knew he wouldn't leave. I knew he loved me. I knew we were perfect-....

The door opens, revealing, a tall skinny man, supporting declan as he tries to half carry him into the house. Declans arm around his neck, attempting to use him as support. Declan was sleepy. This wasn't a normal tired Declan. This is a previously sleeping Declan. Declan always had trouble walking after he woke up from a nap unless he had proper time to recalibrate and get used to his surroundings for at least 15 minutes. He had been asleep. Somwhere else. All night. The question is...Where. Was. He.

And I know the answer. I always know. After all, I'm his soulmate. I'm whats best for him.

The man helping Declan walked in, helping Declan onto the couch and soon introducing himself. He has a light redness over his face. he is blushing. Madly.

Declan my love. Must you make me work so hard.

[spearxwind]

i gotta wonder if my drive to draw things will return when my major is over in a few months

[depresseddepot]

I'm going to participate in nanowrimo this year if it fucking kills me

[prettyboykatsuki]

am i warm enough for you?

➳ tags ;; soulmate au, strangers to lovers, fluff and angst but mostly fluff, some-what canon compliant, bakugo katsuki is bad at feelings, lots of Feelings™, you guys are adults but the end of the fic but the fic is sfw, alcohol, drunk confessions

➳ wc ;; 5.6k..

➳ plot summary ;; you see your soulmate in dreams - sometimes in bits and pieces and other times in full. bakugo is less than inclined to admit he even has a soulmate - and you learn how to cope with it, one day at a time.

bakugo learns that this soulmate shit is no joke. that has to be why he keeps falling for you so helplessly.

➳ a/n ;; i wasn’t even gonna comeback this early but it felt so wrong not to post on my bfs birthday so alas </3 for anyone who cares to know this is @elysianseraph but with my new url. nice to see u all <3

this was originally posted on 4/20 but im reposting cause it didn’t show up in the tags dskjds

It’s hazy.

A cloud of smoke settles over your body, permeating your lung. It smells like sugar, like burning, like smoke and a little like leather. You can feel your toes curl and your hands moving but your body is separate from you in a way you can’t describe. It’s a pleasant kind of warmth that spreads, creeping up from behind your neck till it’s soft and cradling your skull. It’s soft like the touch of a mother, like wool over your ears.

It’s a pleasant feeling, that’s all. Almost cozy but there’s a fading sense of distress that chills in your lungs as you encompass it. Your hands are too small to reach forward, and truthfully the sensation is so powerful that you’re afraid to reach out. You’re 6 years old, so all you know is how it makes you feel. You can’t remember many details, but you feel pleasant. Something about it is soft, but there’s a sharp edge right at the end that has your lungs gasping for air.

It’s a flash of colors. Red. Orange. Pale Yellow. Grey. Black. Forest Green. Red. Red. Orange. Red.

And then it fades into a feeling again. A blurry feeling. You feel conflict, then concern, then inadequacy in heavy waves almost like it’s drowning you. It’s the first time you’ve experienced such a pain, so your wailing and wiping tears away with chubby fingers and saying a name you don’t know and can’t remember.

Ka. You know the sound, Ka. But you don’t know of anything more. It repeats rhythmically in your mind like a knock on the door, rapping with urgency - but it doesn’t do anything to jog your memory. Someone is trying to be let in but you don’t know how to answer them, and you’re still crying. The distress, the inadequacy shakes you and all you feel is frustration in short simple bursts.

Your first encounter with your soulmate is written this way in your memory. A sense of urgency laced with frustration - but they’re not towards you. It’s him, his feelings - you can feel them even deeper then he can. They pierce you in a way that makes it hard to breathe, no matter how you try to escape them it’s an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. The only way to escape the feelings of a dream is either to control them, or to face them and swim through the fog.

Soulmates have an urgency to them, in general. His is different, you can tell as much. Your first soulmate dream leaves the heaviest impression and each one thereafter is like pieces of a puzzle.

Sometimes you simply share random dreams, like a split screen in a video game - the two of you witness different parts of the same dreamverse. Other times, and honestly - most times, you’re experiencing their emotions or feelings. You experience their core memories, their life, in flashes and bits and pieces.

It’s not enough to know them or who they are, it’s like know everything about them except the things that matter

Sometimes you meet too. Just barely.

MEETING 1:

The room is white. When you blink, colors flash in order - red, pale yellow, orange, forest green and you know. You blink a few more times, stretching your hands out in front of yourself. Curling your hands into fist then into stretched palms, you lean forward and stretch. You wriggle your toes - notice you're wearing shoes. Clothes from your closet. Strange.

You take a look around the room but there isn't much to see. There’s a wall in front of you with a glass divider and a mirrored empty room. The room across from yours has spiky decor littered against the walls. An orange dresser, plastic grenades and play guns. You know who it is without a second warning - and a foggy part in the back of your head tells you that it’s him, again but with more force. You don’t see anything in your room, but you figure he might. All of it is confusing to you.

Before you can blink, there’s a loud thud coming from the other side of the glass. It’s a silhouette, the outline of a face - but nothing clear. Dream logic dictates you can’t know a face you’ve never seen, yet somehow you know his outline. Spiky, he’s spiky everywhere.

“Hello?,” you call out, overly tentative. The figure pauses, seems to take in whatever they must be seeing. You’re not sure what response you’re expecting, really. There’s no expectations at all.

“...Who the fuck are you?,” says a pitchy, male voice. He sounds like he’s your same age, a highschool boy. His throat is rough, yet not overly deep. It’s almost scratchy.

“Uhm,”

You’re not sure how to reply. You can see him through the glass, but not really. Still, you take note of his shadows like they’re going to tell you anything more. You shove your hands in your pockets, messing around with something inside.

“Uh.. your soulmate, I think,” you reply.

Scratching the back of your neck as an awkward silence settles, you take a few minutes to try and figure what more to say.

“We met when we were kids once too,” you explain awkwardly. He must know, has too - this soulmate thing is a two way thing, but his silence is deafening. You just want to feel this space. Is it always this awkward?

“Red. Orange. Pale Yellow. Forest Green,” you repeat, like a mantra. You hear him take in a sharp breath, and freeze. For some reason, you’d like to avoid upsetting him. He doesn’t seem like he’s taking to the information too well.

“I don’t have time for this damn bullshit… whatever quirk you’ve got to mimic this - cut it the fuck out,”

Hostile.

You pause, not sure how to feel. Half of you is offended, the other half is confused - had you done something to upset him? You can feel how he feels - but you don’t understand it. You sit with your mouth agape, like a fish out of water. Unsure of how to proceed, you scoff a little.

“Woah.. this isn’t a quirk thing. We’re.. soulmates? That’s already a thing,”

More silence. You’ve.. he doesn’t seem upset, but you can tell he’s not all that keen to the idea. It’s a bare minimum improvement that you find yourself valuing, without your consent. He breathes again, throat even more hoarse than before. His voice is angry but it doesn’t fit his responses, his feelings - so you don’t pay attention to his madness. Something is off.

“... I’m not supposed to have a soulmate. No fucking way I have a soulmate,” he grits. You step back, stumbling. You didn’t have any expectations.. but this wasn’t what you had been expecting at all. You feel uneasy, sick. It must be a shared feeling if the way he leans against a wall counts for anything.

A beat of silence passes before you open your mouth to speak.

“... I have no idea what I’m supposed to say to that,” you admit. He scoffs.

“Nothing you damn extra. Leave me the fuck alone,”

You don’t reply, too stunned. This was your soulmate? This.. asshole? Not that you were a peach entirely either, but this was supposedly the person that the universe had decided for you?

You shake your head. Maybe you’re just being rash? He could be a nice guy behind all the chaos. You try your best to hold onto that, that this was literally someone chosen for you before you gave up all hope. You sigh, cracking your neck.

“You can say whatever you want but.. we’re here, you know? It’s more productive to just go with it.. isn’t it?,”

“Go fuck yourself,”

“After meeting you, I’m not exactly over the fucking moon about it either. It is what is,”

“You’re not my fucking.. soulmate or whatever the fuck. Leave me alone,”

Your heart both aches with anger and sadness. You don’t know what to do. What does this shit-head know about you, anyway? You know he’s been through some shit, same as you - what makes him so entitled? You swallow the lump in your throat. It hurts. It pierces. Stupid soulmate bonds.

“Yeah? Alright. Fuck you too,”

You see him pace around for a longer before he disappears in a cloud of smoke. You didn’t even catch his name, and you’re not sure you wanted too. It must be morning, but at least you're away from him. It feels lonely, but it must just be you.

Your eyes flutter open but your heart is heavy with regret. You don’t know who it belongs to, but you’ve got class in an hour and not enough time to think about it. If he doesn’t want to meet you that’s fine.

It’s fine. Not like you wanted to meet your soulmate anyway.

__

You don’t have another meeting with your soulmate for months. Lately your dreams have little if anything to do with him or where he is, how he’s been. You have some of those split screen ones, where you know he’s there but neither of you acknowledge each other, even in spirit, like how you did before. When you wake up feeling angsty, you don’t know how to distinguish the feeling but you don’t try.

You wonder idly if he can feel your apathy, if he cares enough too. Maybe he also mistakes it for his own? It seems likely.

It’s a weekday where you’re getting ready for remedial classes at your school. First year advanced courses were no joke, and you find yourself regretting your choice to participate in them.

Still you get dressed anyway, put your uniform on and brush your teeth - wash your face with your eyes half open and look presentable. No one's home in the morning, the house is empty of any life but you. Food becomes a last minute priority, so you make an egg sandwich with cheese and eat it on the way to the train station.

You stare down at your feet as you step outside, music drowning out the noise of your surroundings aptly. The walk to the station is long and the ride is longer, but the streets are packed edge to edge. Musutafu is busy this time of year - the U.A. Sports Festival is taking place today and everything seems to reflect that. You barely manage to squeeze past all the strangers on the subway - clearly on their way to see it.

When you get to school, you're greeted by a mostly empty classroom with a teacher. These classes were straightforward as always, do the work you need to correct, have it approved and leave. It repeats until your finished with all the assignments and you get to be done. You give a respectful nod to your teacher before grabbing your work from your bag.

It goes on and on - occasionally, you hear an excited gasp and quiet chatter from classmates. It’s about the festival, the happenings - but you’re too caught up in completing your work that day and trying to get the fuck out of their as soon as possible.

Shit like that didn’t matter to you, anyways. It’s just a festival.

You leave around the same time the festival seems to have ended, the streets flooded with people - you miss the first station and wander towards an electronics store a block away from your highschool.

It’s the winners on TV. A guy with split hair - Shouto Todoroki, Endeavors son. A guy with a bird head, and a blonde with red eyes - muzzled to the pole.

When you see them, your heart stops. You can feel anger, an unfamiliar rage and humiliation building in your chest. It feels the word has stopped as you watch from afar, through screens. Your soulmate seems upset about something, but you wouldn’t know what.

And that blonde on TV, you wonder if you know him from somewhere.

MEETING 2:

Red.Orange. Pale Yellow. Grey. Black. Forest Green. Red. Red.

You feel him before you even know what’s happening - and it catches you completely off-guard. You haven’t had a proper soulmate dream in two years. Smoke clouds your lungs, the taste of sugar burning your tongue as you cough yourself into awareness. This time, you’re not in a room but it’s a campground. In the middle of the space is a bonfire, burning warmly. This one feels more vivid, more real.

But you know it’s not, your body feel unusually light and your hands can’t hold anything for too long. You know it’s a dream, but you sit in the chair anyway. It feels like you're floating. You feel oddly warm. Dread builds in the pit of your stomach. Even though it’s been so long since you’ve spoken to your soulmate - you can’t forget the terrible first encounter. It sticks to the roof of your mouth - a bitter memory that fills you with unexplainable, irrational resentment.

But it’s not like you hadn’t been seeing him, to an extent. You’ve seen all his memories in bits and pieces - all of them tragic and painful. This time, you see people but they come in the form of small scraps. Spiky Red. Electricity. Tape. Pink with Horns. Music. Green. So much green and red - like Christmas, you’ve called it. You’ve seen disappearances, fear, anguish - so much anguish.

In the weeks after All Might’s fall, you were in so much pain - you couldn’t stop crying for days. It’s been enough time to know what feelings were yours and which were his - and these ones felt so much like him. It went on for nearly a year - you’d almost got accustomed to it. If tears showed up to blot the ink of your lecture notes, you didn’t think twice about it. You tried to keep yourself calm, steady - in hopes you could lend your soothing to him. Even if he hated your guts, you could barely believe so much sadness could exist in one person. You didn’t know what happened but whatever it was - it must’ve been terrible. At the very least, you felt sympathy.

Sympathy was enough to get by for a long time. A neutral, level-headed sympathy that helped soothe some of your own hurt.

All that said, you were hardly expecting to see him again - especially not this soon. You don’t remember the last time you thought about him in anything other than passing - actively. It’s one thing to know what's happening - you’ve felt him passively everyday for damn near two years.

But it’s another thing to see him in front of you, force yourself to acknowledge him as your soulmate even if he insists on not doing the same.

You squirm in your chair, noticing that you’re wearing PJ’s instead of clothes. Just a hoodie and sweats, none of which fit you quite right. You pull your sleeves over your hands, fiddling with the stray strand of thread loose.

“What the fuck is this shit?,”

Your stomach drops. Unsure of what to say, you opt to say nothing at all. Just let him be, sit quietly in your dreams and mind your business. Maybe he’ll wake up soon and it’ll all be over.

You can’t see him from the corner of your vision but you can hear him shuffle. The way he touches things, noticing how they make noise but don’t feel quite right in his hands. How it feels real but doesn’t, how it is real and isn’t. Surely, he’s noticed you by now. The lingering silence makes you squirm.

“...It’s you,”

You flinch, lifting your head up slightly to meet his gaze. His expression is unreadable, but it’s different from before. In a fleeting moment, something occurs to you.

You can see him. What he looks like. Blonde with red eyes, and a sharp chin and thin waist. You know it must mean you’ve seen him before - perhaps you’d even seen each other, but for your life you can’t remember where you’ve seen his face. It’s right there, on the edge of your mind, but you’re stumped.

“Hello?,”

“Oh,” your reply comes short, strained. Your eyes flutter as you press your lips into a flat line. “Uh, hi,”

The blonde sits in the chair, slumping down. His eyes go towards the flickering flames without another word and you decide it’s best not to engage. It stays like that for a while, a beat of silence - not awkward but not comfortable, passing by without another thought. It all feels real, present - not like normal dreams. This must be the special kind of soulmate thing you find yourself feeling resentful towards.

His eyes are heavy. Relief is overwhelming him, with an iron grip and he’s worried you can feel it. If you can, you don’t say a word.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,”  he admits.

The words sound tender passing through his mouth, unmistakably so - but you don’t get your hopes up. Instead, you give him a placating laugh, leaning forward towards the fire and mirroring him.

“I didn’t think so either,”

When it falls silent, it feels comfortable. It’s not like either of you have anything to say to each other right now, with no manual on how this was supposed to go. If he even wanted to go there.

“I can.. see you,” you start. He squints.

“You couldn’t before?,”

This takes you by surprise. You shake your head.

“No..Could you? See me, I mean?,”

Bakugo feels heat rise to his skin. Oh. Huh.

“Yeah,” he replies, a sharp inhale leaving his lungs “I can see you,”

There’s something tense in the air. It’s a strange sensation - to know the deepest and most intimate parts of someone without even knowing their name proper, or where they went to school, or what they normally eat for breakfast. All that connects you are these mutual feelings, shared grief that holds you two to the title of soulmates. This odd bond.

“..d’ya still think I’m a quirk wielding villain?,” you laugh, or try too - you’re doing your best to cut the tension. He can feel your hurt all the way from your sit, so deep in his gut - it’s been haunting him for years. How many nights of sleep he’s lost knowing there are soft and helpless tears coming from these suppressed feelings. He doesn’t know how to say sorry, so he sighs and rubs the back of his neck. He’s changed a lot in two years - but not enough to be good at this.

“No, I don’t,”

“Oh,”

He smiles, just a little. It’s gentle, casts shadow on his face from the light of the fire. It’s warm, everything feels warm and better and invigorating. When you look at him and his uneasy expression - you know he feels it too.

“By the way, uhm - what’s your name? Ka.. something? Right?,”

His eyes shoot up in surprise. He nods a little.

“Katsuki Bakugo,” he replies, expectantly. You seem surprised that he wants to know yours.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” comes your reply.

“Nice to meet you,” says him, Bakugo - your soulmate.

“Nice to meet you too,”

__

Getting to know Bakugo is unusually easy. You get the feeling it wouldn’t be, in the case that you were anything but soulmates - but Bakugo has never known being this intimate with someone other than you. Despite himself, how much he hates himself - you never seem too. Even though you feel and see all the ugliest parts of him - have since he was small enough to still be innocent, you always treat him the same.

Your conversations are short, and shallow. Regardless, he’s not used to talking so much about himself. But you’re always curious, so much so Bakugo doesn’t have the heart to see your countless questions go unanswered.

You keep a little notebook of all of your encounters. You remember them by heart but write them down too, just in case you miss something. You ask about his friends - Spiky Red and Soft Green, referring to them that way even after you’ve known their names. You ask about his work - the life of a dangerous hero, and if he ever gets nervous flying through the air.

Admittedly, he’s mean to you. He teases you so frequently, he’s lost count of all the times you’ve huffed and puffed at his sarcastic remarks. Still, you never turn away from him. You stand with your foot down and your arms crossed over your chest - insistent on making him feel flustered too. And it works, somehow - because you know all too much about Bakugou and always gets him right where he’s most conscious about. You don’t have to tease him about his feelings since you know them like the palms of your hand.

But these shallow conversations always mean a little more to him that he knows how to verbalize, and half the time he doesn’t need to do that at all. You’ve learned the masterful of working around him quietly, making all the parts of that feel too big to love - something small and fragile. Somehow, you’ve made being with him, even as friends - feel like less of an impossible feat but a dream.

Katsuki Bakugo has been in love with you since he was 6 years old. There must be some feelings we cannot share with our soulmates, because he has no idea if you feel it or not. He just knows he does, somewhere deep in the cavern of his heart, he loves you.

You never cross the barrier of romance with him, though. A paralyzing fear seems to settle in your bones when you breach too close to love and intimacy - and Bakugo understands those feelings, even if he doesn’t know exactly why they’re there. It’s not something you’ve decided to tell him yet, but he feels it in the same way he feels your loneliness. You may be kind but you’re more guarded than he is, and not fearless but reckless.

But he still finds himself aching to love and be loved by you, no matter how much he hates it. The yearning still manages to swallow him, even late into the night.

MEETING 3:

It’s been a while since your last meeting with Bakugo but not long. You were 21 now, but your dream visits were frequent. When you weren't speaking or seeing him through dreams - you were watching him on TV. You’d been yet to meet with him in real life but to you, that was okay. Seeing him like this had been more than enough.

Today was different. Normally, that bonfire was always a back-drop to these little encounters but it was a field today - a filed with rolling hills and hundreds of flowers and tall grass that made you feel itchy. The sun was permanently stuck right before it set but it was so warm everywhere. When you get there, there’s a blanket on the top of one of the hills. You sit on it cautiously and watch the wind pass. Everything is tinged orange, and red - you know he’s there with you before he appears.

When he does, he seems different. You glance over at him as he stumbles towards you in a stupor, and when he does finally sit - you get a whiff of alcohol coming from his neck and mouth. It’s strong enough to make a little dizzy. Blinking owlishly, he sits crisscross besides you, staring a little at the surroundings.

“..the fuck?,” he slurs. You can’t help but break out into a laugh. He nearly falls over, body swaying so you bring his head down to your shoulder wordlessly, a furious heat running all over your skin. Even though you can’t feel him, the gesture makes you feel something in your belly.

“Why’re you so drunk?,”

“Birthday,” he mumbles. Your eyes widen in surprise. Bakugo is seemingly unfazed, eyes drooping with tiredness. He’s completely inebriated.

You feel yourself grow tender. You’d have to wake up and remember the days date. Despite all the times you’ve met, you had no clue about his birthday or how he celebrated. You feel your heart ache at the idea you’ve spent the latter half of it together, in your own way.

“Happy Birthday, Bakugo.”

“Bakugo this, Bakugo that,” he growls, a little incoherent “We’re supposed to be fucking soulmates and you still call me by that.. damn name.”

He hiccups a little as you sit there stunned. You blink.

“.. You think of us as soulmates?,”

“Are you some kind of moron?,”

You scowl, flicking his forehead with your thumb and forefinger. He makes a noise of indignance.

“Well, how would I know? When we first met, you didn’t seem enthused about it,”

Bakugo sighs tiredly.

“I was 15 and an asshole - clearly I don’t fuckin’ feel that anymore,”

You seem surprised again.

“..You don’t?,”

Instead of swearing at you, he closes his eyes and gets closer to you. The liquor runs through his system like liquid courage and he nods a little.

“Not at all,”

“What do you..”

“What do you think I mean?,” he barks a laugh. You feel your pulse under your skin, drumming against your chest like a hammer. You can’t even breathe.

You’ve had feelings for Bakugo from the second proper meeting you’d had with him. It was clear as a day that he was your soulmate for good reason, that inexplicable draw that kept your heart from ever belonging to anyone else. You tried to - tried to go on dates and see other opportunities through but he was always so one of a kind.

Yet, you’d given up all hope that it would mean anything to harbor these feelings, convinced that Bakugo simply wasn’t interested in you In doing any of this. You didn’t want to force him into something he didn’t want - so you kept your distance with hope that he’d still be in your life. It was enough, or you’d wanted it to be.

It’d be a lie to say that you hadn’t started thinking about it more and more as the days pass. What it would be like to see him, touch him and love him and be with him for real - these passive daydreams gone vivid. If he could see your dreams, he must know about them. But you didn’t know how to approach it - how to approach love at all.

That’s the thing with soulmates. You’re told that you’ll just have the answers, destiny will do the hard work but that’s far from true. Because even now, with Bakugo leaning  on your shoulder with this confession lingering in the air - you don’t know what to do.

“Stop being so nervous,” he mumbles. You stumble a little over yourself.

“Sorry,”

He chuckles.

“You really need me to say it, huh?,” he sighs. He picks himself. If he’s drunk and reckless, then fuck it - he’s gonna take it all the way. He drops his head onto your lap with a tired sigh.

“I think you’re my soulmate, you fuckin’ idiot,” he admits.

And it’s hard to say, because feelings don’t come easy for Bakugo Katsuki - but it’s the least he can do. All Bakugo Katsuki has ever known is to be lonely. It’s a loneliness that he’d forced on himself. Bottling up all the anger and sadness and swallowing it. It’s long since sunk it’s claws into him. That overwhelming, all consuming ugly feeling that lingers underneath that superiority complex.

That no one would ever, could ever love the ugliness that lingers in him. That no one who knew him for what he truly is, could care for him. Deku was the first of many disbeliefs and not much had changed.

Except for when it did. Except for when he met you - in a dream, and you were real and beautiful even at 15. That the universe hadn’t been playing some sick joke on him when he kept seeing you in his dreams, so soothing to his teenage loneliness. You were real and that was so fucking scary.

But you loved him anyway. Looked out for him when he was at his lowest - the soothing beat of your heart  in the days after All Mights end . When he cried himself into sleep and dreamed of you. God, how he dreamed of you. Not especially romantic dreams, but dreams of how you made breakfast. How you watched cartoons on Sunday and read manga in your classes instead of the assigned work. How you fell asleep on the train station and always ate icecream after big tests. How you were especially mundane and how he got to be apart of that everyday routine.

After all, you see dreams of each other, but Bakugo has no clue what your dreams of him look like. His have always looked like you though.

When he was worthless and empty and unable to give you anything meaningful, to apologize or put his pride away - you had loved him anyway. Felt for him with clumsy hands and held on, not letting go. Even when he was begging for you to leave him alone, in fear of this all being nothing more than a cruel dream - you held on tightly to him. With your silly notebook questions and dumb names.

Bakugo Katsuki has never known what it means to love someone who isn’t you. Even if you found someone else and there was someone better than you for him, he would grit his teeth and bear it. He wonders if he’ll ever believe he deserves you. He wants to believe you’re his soulmate - to believe you wont ever leave. To believe that he did something right enough that the universe could give him someone like you.

And he wishes he could say all this, but he can’t - he just closes his eyes and hopes you can feel it.

“You’re so mean,”

“Isn’t that why you like me?,” he grins.

And you can feel his sincerity. He should feels yours too.

“I love you, actually,”

He gasps, a sharp breath that stabs his lungs. He feels sober from the confession.

His voice is gravelly when he speaks.

“Yeah, shit - me too,”

__

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest. The address is correct, it has to be with the way this place looks. Only a hero could live here, with the floors that lead up to skies. He lives on 3rd floor, so you swallow your fear. You give yourself a thumbs up in the glass window pane of the building before entering through the doors.

When you get there, a box sits. You press the button next to his place, bouncing on the balls of your feet until you answer.

“Hello?,”

His voice feels different in real life. You  cough.

“Uh, hi,” you greet awkwardly “I’m here,”

“Oh,” he says. You hear something buzz and then him again. “Come on up,”

And you do. The elevator ride feels like it stretches mild, classic piano echoing against the empty walls. You feel yourself feel sick but you’re not sure it’s from the movement. All you can do is fidget and wait.

When the doors open, you peak your head out into the hallway. He’s the first one on the left, just as promised. You can see a welcome mat - forest green, and something in you knows that it’s the right one.

You step up and knock, three times precisely. Your heart is all the way in your ears and everything in you is filled with unease and excitement.

When the door swings open, the world stops. You gape like a fish out of water in disbelief. He’s tall and big like he promised he’d be, but you’re unprepared. His chin is scruffy, eyes full of sleep. Strong chest and arms that seem to crowd your vision, you don’t know what do.

His expression is full to the brim with feelings you’ve never seen. He steps aside with his head ducked down.

“Come in,”

“Ah.. right,”

You take your shoes off and place them in the slippers meant for you - they fit you just right, and it can’t be a coincidence. Your heart swells up a little as you take your coat off, hanging it on the rack. You can feel his eyes as they linger on your silhouette.

“So -,”

Before you can get a word out, you feel strong arms wrapped around your waist. His scruff brushes against the skin of your neck as he holds you tightly too him. The warmth of his breath lingers on your neck - and he hiccups, a sob stored in his rib cages let out with a howl. The tears blur your vision too. You can feel his drip onto your shoulder as you snivel into his neck. Your legs feel weak, but he holds you up at the door - the only thing keeping you standing.

You cling around him tightly, your nails digging into the meat of his shoulders. It’s him, your soulmate, Katsuki Bakugo. He’s real and holding you - and he smells like leather and sugar and a fireplace. He’s warm and strong and overwhelming and your crying into his shoulder with so much feeling you don’t know what to do. You hit him weakly, unsure of what do with yourself and he laughs.

“Damn you, shitty woman - makin’ me fucking cry,” but his voice is strained. It’s like something connected, how you feel each other so intimately in that moment. Not only because you’re soulmates, but because you love each other so deeply. Your heart feels heavy.

When you pull away, you manage to give him a warbly smile.

Your hands cradle his face - so handsome and wonderful. You lean forward, emboldened, and peck him. He melts into your touch like he’d been waiting for this moment his whole life. It makes you grin.

Maybe you don’t realize that he had.

He’d been waiting for you all this time.

[wiseferret]

five pebbles from rain world has autism spectrum disorder level 1 (formerly called asperger's syndrome)

not because of him being mean to the slugcats or doing a bad thing in the story, but because:

(THIS IS VERY SPOILERS.)

1. he is really quiet in group chats, not interacting much with everyone from what we see. though he does talk plenty with SRS and while under a different name (erratic pulse), which would suggest struggling with social interaction.

2. he shows decreased empathy. evidently he does regret what he's done and wishes he could fix it but it took him a long time to get to that point. and he doesn't seem to acknowledge the feelings of LTTM or SRS, but he does understand he has done something terrible. further on the topic of decreased empathy, he doesn't seem to show any kind of emotional understanding towards the ancients who didn't want to move from LTTM's structure to his. instead, he found the topic to be something to ponder upon. actually, he shows more displeasure about the ancients that DID like him and did rituals in his name. he calls them and the rituals wearisome. ALSO also, the way he treats Artificer and reacts to it slaughtering the scavengers is somewhat detached, he doesn't seem to care all that much about the morality of it all, and allows Artificer's rampage to continue to his city because it benefits him.

3. besides his curiosity about The Triple Affirmative, he shows a strong interest in the history and art of the ancients. he gets notably more excited when discussing the Bright Green pearl and when reading the white pearl containing a piece of art by "the famed painter Twenty-One Spokes of a Stone Wheel, a true visionary!“

4. he has very flat and formal speaking mannerisms when reading pearls and talking inside broadcasts. every other iterator is much more casual in the broadcasts and display a variety of emotions and informal language. FP (or EP, his alter ego from earlier) doesn't show this in his dialogue.

5. in one pearl it is suggested that he likes to repeatedly write down a prayer mantra into the pearl. the exact dialogue for the pearl is “A common prayer mantra repeated 7110 times. Each repetition has some slight random variations which seem to have been written later.” this dialogue is from LTTM and she says the pearl was used recently, meaning the later variations were likely by Pebbles.

6. he likes to keep his chamber dimmed, since on repeated visits as Artificer he doesn't turn the lights up like he does for the other slugcats, maybe suggesting a sensitivity to light. he also keeps the gravity off when it visits, so perhaps he doesn't like the gravity being on in his chamber because of some reason such as liking his pearls to all remain organized, and not having his robes pulled in one direction. in addition, he keeps most of his overseers at or near his own structure and usually clumped together, so maybe he finds having multiple points of view to be overstimulating. this point is more headcanon than the rest since there is no dialogue mentioning it.

anyways um. this took me like an hour and a half to research and write out. starting at around 11 pm. im very tired but hey. I Got To Soeak About My Favorite Bubblegum Pink Robot Who Has Cancer

give me a niche, specific headcanon you have about a character. any character (both ocs and fandom welcome!)

personally i’m the number one hypermobile gillion tidestrider truther. i just think triton bodies would be built slightly different than human bodies in a way that helps them maneuver with the water pressure, and when they’re on land, basically presents as some widespread hypermobility

[softholand]

hey! idk if im doing this right and you dont have to do this but "I always said I'd die for you." "I didn't think you meant literally." imagine this with like mob haz and holland reader that were childhood best friends and lost closeness bc they didnt realize they were both in the mob. protective but not asshole tom please

𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

⤷ mob!haz x holland!reader, childhood best friends to enemies to lovers au, angst, blood, guns, the usual mob shenanigans

prompt: “i always said i’d die for you.” “i didn’t think you meant literally.”

words: 2.5k

a/n: you’re doing this so right, anon !! in fact, i almost turned this into a whole one shot, that’s how much i loved writing it 🙈 ty so much for asking ♡

You laid with your head on Harrison’s lap, his fingers carefully massaging your scalp, the sound of the rain steady against the glass windows, while you watched a movie at his house, a bowl of popcorn being shared between you two.

When a specific scene about a guy getting the shot that was fired at the girl came on, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Now that’s some bullshit! C’mon, no one would do this in real life.” You grumbled as the guy now laid on the floor, blood seeping through his clothes. “I’d die for you.” Harrison simply let it out, as if what he had just said wasn’t serious at all.

Getting up, you stared stunned at your best friend's expression, rolling your eyes with a laugh. “No, you wouldn’t!” You scoffed, getting back to your previous position. “Yes, I would! You're my best friend, y/n!” He said, stopping his movements. “That doesn’t mean you should die for me, Harrison!” You declared, making your best friend let out a frustrated groan. “Well, I would.” Harrison stated, “Okay, fine! Sure you would.” You rolled your eyes once again, giving up.

Harrison could only smirk at your sudden change of attitude, “You know what, I changed my mind. You’re too stubborn, I’d happily let you die.” He said, making you laugh. “You’re such an asshole, Osterfield!” You playfully hit him, earning a chuckle from the blonde. “Yeah, yeah… you love me!” He said, staring down at you with his beautiful ocean eyes. “You wish, Harri!” At that, it was Harrison’s time to hit you, both of your laughs filling the room.

“Hey, you ready?” Tom’s voice startled you, abruptly taking you out of your daydreaming. “Huh?” You asked, shaking your head to try and get rid of the clear image of your once best friend. “I asked if you were ready to go?” Your older brother repeated, to which you nodded, getting out of your rather comfortable position in bed.

Taking a couple of steps inside your bedroom, Tom asked the same question he had been repeating like a mantra the whole day. “You sure you don’t wanna stay? It’s not going to be a big deal.” You chuckled, putting your leather jacket on top of your blouse. “Yes, Tom! I’m sure, let’s go!” You exclaimed, walking past him and into the living room where the rest of your brothers waited for you.

“Oi, the princess is finally ready?” Harry let it out in a mocking tone, making you flip him off, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by your older brother. “Hey, behave you two. God, I swear I must have a place in heaven for having to deal with these kids.” Tom sighed, and you refrained from rolling your eyes.

“Okay, first of all, you’re only a few years older than us. And second, you really think you’re going to heaven with all the shit you’ve done, Tommy?” You asked, standing in front of him with your arms crossed and a proud smirk on your face upon seeing your older brother’s angry expression.

If it was one thing Tom hated, it was being called Tommy, especially by you, since you first started when you heard a girl he had brought home call him that. “In the car, y/n! Or I’ll leave you home.” His voice was firm, but he held a playful smirk on his lips.

When everyone was inside Tom’s car, he drove off to the abandoned warehouse, where your older brother had agreed to meet with some of his buyers, the ones who hadn’t paid your family yet, to be specific. After turning the engine of his beloved Porsche off, Tom suddenly stopped his movements. “What is it?” Sam asked, to which Tom held his finger up, a sign for you to stay quiet.

Taking a closer look, Tom furrowed his brow, “There’s more cars than there should be.” He said, making you roll your eyes. “They could’ve bought it?” You tried to reason, but he quickly shut you up, “If they’re not paying us, why do you think they’d have the money to buy a new car?” Tom stated and even though you hated to admit that he was right, you had to give him that.

“Sam, Harry, you two check the back to see if the place is clear while I go in. y/n, you stay in the car.” Tom’s words were firm, and this time there wasn’t a playful smirk on his lips. “What?!!! Why?!!!” You protested, to your brother’s distaste. “Because I said so! There’s something off here and I don’t want you involved if things go south.” Tom snapped, but you weren’t one to go down easily, you were a Holland after all. “Oh, so I’m just supposed to stay here and watch my brothers get killed?” You tried once again, but your brother wasn’t having any of it.

“No one’s dying tonight, and you’re staying inside this fucking car, do you understand me?” Tom scolded you, getting even angrier when you refused to answer. “y/n, do you understand me?” He pressed, finally being able to convince you. “Fine, I’ll stay here, for fucks sake!” You grumbled, crossing your arms, tearing your gaze away from him.

With that, the three boys got their guns ready, finally stepping out of the car, “Hey, I love you, ok? That’s why I do this, to protect you!” Tom whispered but all you did was ignore him. “Just… stay here! We’ll be right back.” He then mumbled before signaling for your brothers to go to the back of the abandoned building, while he made his way inside.

“Yeah, like shit I’m gonna stay here.” You let it out as soon as your brother entered, taking his spare gun in the glove compartment, before exiting the vehicle. Taking cautious steps, you made your way to one of the parked cars, if Tom wouldn’t let you help, then at least you could try and get some information about who was there.

Taking a closer look inside the vehicle, you noticed a picture hanging from the rearview mirror, gasping as you saw the familiar faces in the polaroid. Harrison, his sister Charlotte and their dog Monty laid on the floor of their grandparent's house, a place you once used to visit all the time.

You felt your breath get caught in your throat, fear of what could happen with not only your brothers but now Harrison inside the warehouse. Making your way to the door, you listened carefully, trying to make out what they were saying. “Well, it seems like we’re not the only ones not getting our money.” You heard Tom’s voice said, followed by Harrison’s. “Just give us the damn money Dexter, and we’ll all be on our way.”

You knew how risky this was, but you also couldn’t help your emotions anymore so, with your gun in hand, you took a couple of steps inside the house, the old wooden floor creaking as you did, letting all of them aware of your presence. “Y/n?” Harrison was the first to acknowledge you, your older brother immediately turning around at the mention of your name. “What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to stay in the car.” Tom scolded, his expression a mixture of anger and confusion. “I’m not a child, Thomas!” You groaned, taking a couple more steps in.

Sam and Harry, upon hearing your voice, also entered from the back, making the guy who owed you money draw his gun, aiming it directly at you. “Hey, hey, drop the gun now!” Tom warned, “I don’t have your money, Holland! Neither yours, Osterfield! So it doesn’t matter what I do next, I know the only way I’m getting out of here is in a body bag.” He whimpered, the hand holding the gun shaking like an old branch in the wind.

Too much happened in the next couple of seconds, you heard a shot being fired, another three following, and suddenly you were on the floor, in Harrison’s arms, but you quickly realized what he had done when you saw blood starting to seep through his white shirt. “No, no, no! Harrison!!! Tom, Harrison’s hurt!!!” You yelled, not even caring about the armed stranger anymore, your brothers had most likely killed the bastard anyways.

“Oh shit!!! Here, take this and press the wound, we have to take him to the hospital.” Tom cursed, taking his suit jacket off, before passing it to you. You did as you were told, pressing hard on the blonde’s wound, blood quickly covering both your hands and the piece of clothing. “Hey, look at me! You have to stay with me, ok? Don’t close your eyes!” You cried, feeling your voice tremble. “y/n…” Harrison whimpered, trying to reach his hand to your face. “Stop, don’t move! We’re gonna get you to a hospital, Haz! You’re gonna be okay, please, stay with me!” You pleaded, crying as he kept drifting in and out of consciousness.

It wasn’t long before Tom had burst into the old warehouse doors with his car, helping you carefully lay Harrison’s body in the back seat, his head resting on your lap, while he sped to the nearest hospital. Once there, the nurses put him on a stretcher, rushing to the surgery room where they stayed for the next hour.

“If you had just listened to me none of this would’ve happened.” Tom scolded you, while you sat in one of the waiting room chairs, your hands, and clothes covered in Harrison’s blood, whimpers leaving your quivering lips. “How many times do I have to tell you that what we do is dangerous, y/n? This is not a fucking movie, this is real life!” He kept repeating, absolutely fuming with your childish behavior.

You didn’t have the strength to fight back though, all you could do was cry, looking at your bloodied hands, thinking about Harrison’s almost lifeless body on top of you, his once blue eyes now covered by a grey haze. It was then that Tom seemed to finally notice your state of shock, cursing himself internally, before joining your side. “Hey, hey, look at me, I’m sorry!” He whispered, opening his arms, “C’mere!”

You cried in Tom’s arms, the guilt eating you alive, I mean, what would you do if Harrison died? It was your fault after all. “It’s okay, y/n/n! He’s gonna be fine, he’s a tough one.” Your older brother kept reassuring you, even though it did little to help your nerves.

It was a couple of hours later when a doctor came out of the room, asking for Osterfield’s relatives, making you and your three brothers all stand up. “He’ll be fine! The bullet did not lodge so we were able to remove it. He just needs some rest to heal now.” Their words made a wave of relief rush over your body, happy tears now cascading down your face while you hugged each one of your brothers.

“He’s anesthetized now but he’ll probably wake up soon. Does anyone want to see him?” The doctor asked, making all eyes lay on you. “Go on, I’ll call his mother and let her know he’s okay,” Tom said, to your surprise, since you knew how much he disliked the fact that you and Harrison were once best friends, seeing as he was from another mob family. “Okay!” You nodded, before being led to the room where Harrison currently was.

Upon entering, you couldn’t help but let a few tears slip, it was hard seeing the state the blonde was in, since you still felt guilty. The machines plugged into his body let out a constant “beep”, letting you know he was okay, easing your guilty mind. “I’ll leave you two to it.” The doctor said, before closing the door behind them.

Once you were alone, you held Harrison’s pale hand, letting all of your emotions out, “I’m sorry, Haz! It was my fault!” You cried, staying like this for a few minutes until you felt his hand squeezing yours back. “y/n?” His voice was hoarse, probably because of the lack of moisture since he had been there for hours. “Hey, you’re awake. Here, take this!” You held the glass of water to his lips, watching him take a few small sips. “Thanks!” He said, this time more clearly.

“What happened?” He asked, finally noticing he was in a hospital. “You were shot!” You informed him, before adding, “For me!” in a small whisper. “I always said I’d die for you.” He plainly let it out, making you even more stunned. “I didn’t think you meant literally.” You protested, watching his face contour in pain when he tried to laugh. “Well, clearly, you should have.”

You smiled, shaking your head at the boy in front of you, “God, you’re such an idiot, Harrison! Do you even understand the seriousness of the situation?” You asked, “Of course I do, y/n! You are… were my best friend and… and I love you, I couldn’t let you die.” The blonde admitted, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.

Getting up from the chair you were previously sitting, you leaned into Harrison’s body, reaching his lips, depositing a quick but firm kiss on them. “Thank you for saving me, even though I didn’t ask you to.” You said, making the blonde roll his eyes with a smirk. “You’re still stubborn as hell, I see.” He said, his eyes shifting from your eyes to your lips. “Uh-hum, and for your information, I love you too. Always have.” You smiled, and this time it was Harrison who collided his lips to yours.

It was only when you heard the sound of the door opening that you and Harrison let go of each other, widening your eyes upon seeing Tom entering the room. “It’s fine! I’m not gonna kill you! It’s not like this wasn’t bound to happen anyway.” He shrugged, his lips fighting to hold back a smile.

“Thank you, Tom! I love you!” You hugged your brother, kissing his cheek, before letting him go. “Yeah, yeah, whatever! Now, you better treat my sister right, or else you’d end up in a much worse situation than this, got it Osterfield?” Your older brother lectured the blonde, making you roll your eyes. “Tom, c’mon, seriously?” You groaned, making your brother laugh.

“What? I’m just looking out for you.” The boy stated, “Don’t worry, Tom! I promise to take good care of her!” Harrison said, reaching his hand out, interviewing your fingers, before leaning in to kiss you. “Ok, this is gross! I’m gonna head out! I’m glad you’re okay, mate!” Tom exclaimed while making his way out of the room, leaving you and Harrison sharing laughs.

“So…” Harrison said once you were alone. “So…” you repeated, the smile not wanting to come off your mouth. “You know this ain’t gonna be easy, right? Our families will not accept this without a fight.” He breathes, “Yeah, I know!” You mumbled sadly, but upon looking into his beautiful blue eyes, the smile made its way back to your lips, and even though you didn’t know what the future held for the both of you, you felt like it was going to be fine, as long as you were together. “You’re worth the fight though.” You stated, Harrison’s smile mirroring yours, before reaching for your lips once more.

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