#it really was a hard decision but my heart is not really in it and i just don’t think i can give it

[verstappenverse]

Not Over Yet

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: In the heat of a painful argument, you declare that your relationship with Max is over, leaving him desperate to hold on.

1.3k words / Masterlist

The deafening silence of the Monaco apartment was suffocating. The echoes of the fight still rang in the air long after the words had been spoken. Max sat on the edge of the couch, his fingers gripping the fabric so hard his knuckles were white. You stood across the room arms wrapped tightly around yourself, as if trying to hold everything together.

“We’re over, Max.” The words hung heavy in the room, each one feeling like a stone dropped into a deep well.

He looked up, his blue eyes wide with shock and disbelief. “What?” His voice was low, barely above a whisper, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

You turned away from him, unable to face the hurt in his eyes. The hurt that mirrored your own. “I said, we’re done. I can’t—” You struggled to keep your voice steady. “I can’t keep doing this.”

The argument had started hours ago—something small, something insignificant that had spiralled out of control like it always did these days. The never-ending travel, the constant pressure. You knew what you were signing up for when you fell for him, but lately, it felt like everything else in your life had taken a backseat. There were always missed dinners, cancelled plans, and nights where you felt like the third wheel to his love affair with the track.

Max’s eyes hardened for a moment, his pride kicking in as he stood up and paced the length of the living room. “You think I don’t give enough to this relationship?” He snapped, his voice rising. “I work my ass off every day, trying to make sure we have everything. I’m always thinking of you, even when I’m on the track. I—”

“It’s not about the money or the success, Max!” you interrupted, your voice breaking. “It’s about us. About how I feel like I’m always second to everything else in your life. Like I’m not as important.”

Max stopped in his tracks, his back to you as he exhaled sharply. He raked a hand through his tousled hair, trying to calm his emotions. “That’s not fair,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, but still laced with frustration.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the tears threatening to spill over. “What’s not fair is me feeling alone when you’re standing right next to me.”

He turned to face you, the anger in his eyes replaced with something softer. But it was too late. You couldn’t bear to look at him any longer. The weight of your decision pressed down on your chest, and you took a deep breath before you spoke again.

“We’re over,” you whispered. The finality in your voice made it feel real. “We have to be.”

Max’s face went pale. He took a step toward you, but stopped himself his hands twitching at his sides. He looked at you, really looked at you, for what felt like the first time in weeks. “You…you don’t mean that.”

“I do.” You choked on the words as soon as they left your lips. You didn’t mean it. Not really. But you couldn’t keep living in the shadows, couldn’t keep pretending like everything was fine when it wasn’t.

Max’s heart hammered in his chest the fear of losing you clawing at his throat. He had faced impossible races, gut-wrenching crashes, the pressure of the world’s expectations—but nothing compared to the panic that gripped him now. The thought of losing you of truly being without you, was something he couldn’t handle.

He shook his head slowly, refusing to accept what you were saying. “No. No, we’re not over.”

You blinked back the tears, confused by the certainty in his voice. “Max, you can’t just—”

“I’m not letting you go,” he interrupted, his voice firm but low, almost pleading. “I know I’ve been…distracted. I know I haven’t been there the way I should. But you don’t get to decide we’re done. You can’t just give up on us. Not like this.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The apartment felt too small, too full of emotions that neither of you could control.

You felt your defences crumbling, your heart aching at the sincerity in his voice. But the hurt was still too raw. “It’s not that simple, Max.”

Max closed the distance between you in a few quick strides, his hands coming up to gently cup your face, forcing you to look at him. His touch was warm grounding you in a way only he could.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice softer now, desperate. “I know I’ve made mistakes. But I love you. You. You’re not second to anything. You never were. I’m an idiot for making you feel that way, but please…please don’t give up on us.”

You wanted to believe him, wanted to let the walls you had built around your heart crumble. But the fear was still there—the fear that things wouldn’t change, that this would be your life forever, always wondering if you were enough.

Max’s thumb gently brushed away a tear that had slipped down your cheek, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hope. “I can’t lose you,” he whispered, his voice cracking just slightly. It was rare to see Max like this, so raw, so open.

You closed your eyes trying to steady your breathing, trying to find the words to say. “Max, I just… I don’t know if I can keep going like this.”

He pulled you closer his forehead resting against yours as he took a deep, shaky breath. “Then tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix it. I’ll do anything.”

His words were sincere, and you could feel the desperation in his voice. It wasn’t like Max to beg, to be so vulnerable, and it only made your resolve weaken further.

“I don’t want us to be over,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t want to feel like I’m always competing for your attention either.”

Max pulled back slightly, his hands still gently holding your face as he looked into your eyes. “You’re not competing. I love what I do, but I love you so much more. There’s no competition.”

It was the first time he had ever said it so clearly, so bluntly and it took your breath away.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I forgot about what really matters. You. Us. I swear to you, I’ll do better. I’ll make time for us.”

His sincerity was undeniable, and for the first time in a long time you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe things could change. Maybe you could find a way to make it work.

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch. “I don’t want to lose you either Max.”

Relief washed over his face and he pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you like he was afraid you might slip away if he let go. “You won’t. I promise you won’t.”

For a long moment you stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms the weight of the fight slowly lifting as you both began to breathe a little easier. The future was still uncertain, and there would be more challenges ahead, but for now you were both willing to try.

And for the first time in a long time, it felt like the two of you were on the same team.

Max pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead. “We’re not over,” he said softly, as if he needed to hear it out loud.

You nodded, resting your head against his chest listening to the steady beat of his heart. “We’re not over.”

[chesterfieldblossom]

"AMERICAN WEDDING"

Arthur Morgan x Reader (1k words) "Well you can have my mustang / That's all I've got in my name"

SUMMARY | Arthur and you had been in a discreet relationship, but everyone on the camp knew your commitment. But of course, he wanted to make a bit more official. NOTES | It's really short, like just and idea I had on my notes when I was listening American Wedding by Frank Ocean. But I hope y'all enjoy. Also, dividers by @cafekitsune WARNINGS/TAGS | Oneshot, fluff, wedding proposal, f!reader RATING | Teen

"Well, you can have my Mustang." He drawled, voice low and quiet, as though he didn’t want to disturb the night. "That's all I got in my name."

You glanced up at him, the moonlight casting faint shadows across his face, highlighting the lines of weariness that came with the life he led. His eyes, usually hard and distant, were softer now, vulnerable even. Arthur Morgan was not a man who gave easily, and yet, here he was, offering you what little he had—his horse, his loyalty, his heart.

You had thought about marriage before—when you were younger, when life seemed simpler and oblivious. But the image had always been different: a small church, family gathered, maybe even a white dress. Not this—lying on a dusty cot, surrounded by the wilderness, with Arthur Morgan of all people. But that was the thing about life, wasn’t it? It never turned out quite like you imagined.

"Arthur..." You whispered, unsure of how to respond. The weight of his words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. He wasn’t just talking about his Mustang. This was Arthur’s way of saying everything—his past, his future, his soul. You could feel his uncertainty, the tension in the way his fingers hovered slightly above you bare arm, as if he was waiting for you to make a move, to push him away, to tell him no.

But you didn’t want to. God, you would be out of your damn mind if you say no.

You reached up, placing your hand on his, stilling his gentle caress. His hand was large, warm, and rough from years of hard work. It grounded you, made you feel safe in this world of chaos. "I don’t need a Mustang, Arthur." You murmured, thumb tracing circles on the back of his hand. "I need you."

His breath hitched almost imperceptibly, and for a moment, no one spoke. You could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, a reminder of the man beneath the outlaw. You could see the boy in he for the first time, a glimpse of your children. You wondered if he ever imagined this for himself, or if he thought he was too far gone for something like love, like commitment.

"I ain’t got much to offer." he finally said, voice hushed, like he was scared the words might break something between you. "Ain’t never been good at... well, any of this. You know that."

You smiled softly, shifting closer to him. "You’re enough, Arthur. Just you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted."

He didn’t speak for a while, just stared at you, as if he were trying to make sense of how someone could want him—just him. The world had not been kind to Arthur Morgan, and in many ways, it had hardened him. But beneath the roughness, the gruff words and guarded glances, there was a man who felt deeply, who cared more than he let on.

As if making a decision, Arthur suddenly shifted beside you, reaching into the pocket of his worn coat. You watched, curious, as he fumbled for a moment before pulling something out—a small, delicate ring. The band was thin, silver, and simple, with no extravagant jewels, but to you, it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

He held it out to you, almost sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "Picked it up in town a while back." he admitted, eyes flicking up to meet yours. "Didn’t know if you’d... well, if you’d want it. Ain’t much, but it’s real silver."

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart swelling in your chest. The fact that Arthur had gone out of his way to find a ring, something so traditional, so symbolic, meant more than words could express. You could see the way he was looking at you, searching for some kind of approval, some sign that this was right.

"Arthur..." You whispered, the voice breaking slightly. "It’s beautiful."

Without another word, he took your left hand in his, his touch gentle but sure. Slowly, almost reverently, he slid the ring onto your finger. It fit snugly, as though it had been made for you, and the cool metal sent a shiver through your skin. The moment felt timeless, as if you were the only two people in the world, surrounded by the quiet wilderness and the faint glow of the stars.

"There." he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Now it’s official, I guess."

You couldn’t help but smile, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. This was not the wedding you had once imagined, but in every way that mattered, it was better. Arthur Morgan was yours, and you was his, bound not by law or tradition, but by something deeper—something unbreakable.

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his, the noses brushing, breaths mingling in the cool night air. "I love you, Arthur Morgan." You whispered, the voice thick with emotion. "More than anything."

He closed his eyes, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close, his lips pressing softly to your temple. "I love you too." he murmured, the words coming out rough, like they were foreign to him. But they were real, and that’s all that mattered.

As you rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing, you looked down at the ring now glinting on your finger. It was simple, yes, but it was yours. Arthur leaned forward, lifting your chin to gave you a kiss. You happily returned, your bodies shifting closer as he embrace you and the lips moved together.

"But Jesus Christ don't break my heart." He whispered. The warm breath brushed on your lips, making you want to kiss him again.

"This wedding ring won't ever wipe off." You promised to him, whispering back.

[wheelie-sick]

I wanted to ask if I could get your personal opinion on cochlear implants as a deaf person? I'm writing an essay for my ASL class and it's really hard to find opinions about them from the deaf community. I'm very sorry if asking this is rude, you have every right to decline responding to this. Thank you for your time

okay finally getting to this ask

I have a really complicated opinion because on one hand I think the technology is really freeing for a lot of deaf people but on the other they are killing the deaf community.

cochlear implants in and of themselves are neutral technology. in a perfect world there would be no controversy because they would truly be neutral. unfortunately that is not this world. cochlear implants are used to rip deaf people (and in particular, deaf children) away from their community.

all deaf people have a right to the Deaf community, by being deaf they belong to our world.

when a baby is born deaf the first thing an audiologist will suggest is a cochlear implant. they give the suggestion in a way that implies, and sometimes outright states, that a cochlear implant will give the baby a "normal" childhood. they focus on how easy it will be for the people around that baby. no one will have to learn a sign language, no one will have to adapt their life to fit this deaf baby inside of it. the first problem comes in when cochlear implants are not magic devices that allows a person to be just like a hearing person. with a cochlear implant someone will still need a deaf life because cochlear implants are imperfect.

no one with a cochlear implant will ever live the exact same life as a hearing person. when a child grows up with parents who act like a cochlear implant is a perfect fix that child grows up traumatized by a world of people they cannot keep up with. that child grows up feeling like they are the problem for not having the same experience of hearing as everyone around them.

cochlear implant surgeries are serious surgeries which carry risks like meningitis. cochlear implants cannot be given to toddlers with consent. a toddler can't decide whether they want to risk the extensive number of complications because they are 9 months old (the age at which cochlear implants can be given to a child) parents are rarely informed of these risks and when they are they are told over and over again that this will give their child a "normal" life, an "easy" life. I have less of an issue with cochlear implants when it is a teenager or adult making the decision for themself. cochlear implant surgeries are optional, they are not medically necessary. why are we doing risky surgeries on unconsenting toddlers without a medical reason?

with all that said, cultural genocide is the true heart of the issue. audiologists push cochlear implants instead of sign language and connection to the Deaf community. they encourage parents not to raise their child in the community. they discourage Deaf school, they discourage connection with other deaf children, audiologists want an end to the Deaf community and Deaf culture. these children are not being raised bilingual-bicultural they are being denied their rightful place within the Deaf community. they are being damned to a life of isolation, a life of constantly falling behind, a life where they will never truly be accepted because society hates a deaf person with a cochlear implant just as much as they hate a deaf person without.

if that child ever decides later in life that they want connection with the Deaf community? they are behind. they once again cannot quite keep up. oralist childhoods created isolated deaf people, deaf people who have no home in either world.

the Deaf community may welcome second language signers but it is not the same as being a native signer. it is not the same as having the deep rooted connections with the community that are created by growing up within it.

I still respect the decision of deaf teens and adults to get cochlear implants. they are capable of making a choice for themself. deaf teens and adults often already have the social safety net of the Deaf community. I believe bi-bi upbringings for children can be beneficial though I have my own issues with giving any toddler a cochlear implant. I think that bi-bi childhoods are a good compromise and give deaf children access to both worlds. I don't have a problem with deaf children living in both worlds because they still have access to the Deaf community. I wish cochlear implants existed in a world that valued Deaf culture. I wish cochlear implants existed in a world where they were not a tool of cultural genocide. cochlear implants are not the problem, society is.

[goldessia]

first love!reader x second love!megumi

it was always apparent a part of megumi’s heart would belong to his first love. i mean, anyone’s would, right? the first person you love will remain in your heart forever.

but, sometimes, it was hard.

megumi was my first love. is, my first love. the first person i let touch my soul, my heart, and my body. i was wholly, rawly, his.

but, a year into dating, things started to get hard.

a few of megumi’s friends from his old friend-group from his high-school touched base with him. his first love was apart of that group, but they told him they’d long stopped contacting her a while ago.

so, he agreed to meet up with them, both as a chance for his old friends to meet me, and to catch up with them.

an evening dinner is what we agreed on.

“do you think i should wear something fancy?”

“huh?” megumi says, still tired from his nap. “well, do you want to?”

“if you will, i will.” i shrug, holding up my black dress.

i hear the ruffle of our bed, footsteps behind me, and then i feel the warmth of his hands on my stomach as he hugs me. he breathes me in, resting his head on my shoulder.

“i don’t mind. you’ll look beautiful, anyways.” he smiles, presses a kiss to my cheek, and moves toward the bathroom to freshen up.

despite us being together for over a year, his compliments still make me flustered and nervous. i blush, smiling, and opt for jeans and a shirt instead of the dress.

it was just a dinner with friends, right?

when we arrived, i realized i made the wrong decision. apparently, over the years his friends got fancy jobs and therefore were wealthy, and opted for an extremely over-the-top fancy restaurant.

i groan as i step out the car, megumi closing the door behind me after he had opened it.

“this is where we’re eating for a casual let’s-catch-up-dinner?” i frown.

“itadori got some cash, i guess..” he shrugs, “he said he was paying for our meals, so i didn’t think it was very fancy.”

“i’m wearing jeans!” i huff, “they’re going to think i’m some hood-rat you picked up off the street.”

megumi laughs.

“don’t laugh at me!”

he slings an arm around my waist, urging me forward. “they’ll love you. you don’t have to worry.” he places a kiss on my temple, “they’re good people.”

“okay..” i say hesitantly, not really taking in his words.

we step into the restaurant, quickly finding the table as the pink-haired boy, itadori, i presumed, yelled megumi’s name.

“fushiguro!” he yells, the restaurant quieting down to see the commotion, “over here!”

megumi rubs his temples, and cocks his head toward the table. i pick at my fingernails, nervous to walk toward them.

i was happy to see they weren’t wearing any fancy suits or dresses. itadori was wearing sweatpants. nobara was wearing the same as i, jeans and a shirt.

“fushiguro, i see you’re not gray yet.” nobara looks to me, and her eyes widen. “and you have a pretty girlfriend!” she exclaims, “you must be y/n.”

“yeah, uh.. how’d you know?”

“fushiguro told us all about you. the love of my life, he said!”

megumi smiles. i admire the way he isn’t ashamed as he says, “that she is.”

“a few more people are coming.” itadori exclaims as we slide into the booth, “friends of friends, and all that.”

his voice has a certain edge to it, as if he were hiding something.

“that’s fine.” megumi says, “so, what about you, itadori? found yourself a girlfriend, yet?”

“oh, please! nobody would be able to handle itadori. he’s too much.” nobara waves her hand, taking a sip of her wine.

“rude!”

thirty minutes later, the others from his old friend group arrive. gojo and his wife, and a few other of megumi’s teachers flow into the restaurant, followed by—

my heart catches in my throat. silence fills the table.

megumi stiffens beside me. “what is she doing here?” he nearly fumes, a hand wrapping tight around my waist.

itadori chockes on his beer, “oh! uh, um…” he stutters.

“did you know she was coming?” megumi asks, his voice tense, eyes ripping away from her and toward itadori.

“.. would you be mad if i said yes?”

“itadori, i will—“

“megumi!” a voice exclaims. there she was, in her pretty red dress, even more beautiful face and brunette hair. she was an exchange student in their second year. they dated for three years before they broke up.

i feel my heart sink. i look at megumi, and his whole face is tense. his pupils are small, his lips opened in shock. after all, he hadn’t seen her in years. he quickly closes them.

“call me fushiguro.” he says coldly, sparing me a glance. for a second, his eyes soften, his pupils relax. but still, his whole body was tense.

“no need to be so cold to me.” she scoffs, before her eyes turn to me. her eyes scan over me, almost in disgust. i hear her whisper, “this is my replacement?”

she sits across from me, and i feel.. i feel like shit.

he never told me she was so beautiful.

for the rest of the dinner, megumi is silent. i try to place my hand in his, but he pulls it away, shaking his head and looking out the window.

i frown.

i feel tears prickle on my eyes, and god save me if i cried in front of her.

“oh my god, and y/n—“ itadori rambles. he was telling me a story of when they were young.

“you’ll have to excuse me.” i cut him off, a small crack in my voice.

“oh. is everything okay?”

“yeah.” i nod, “i just need to use the washroom.”

i give a reassuring smile as i slide out the booth. megumi’s hand catches my wrist, and he gives me a confused look.

i say nothing and slide my hand away from him, walking toward the door.

i felt like my chest was going to explode; like my heart was going to explode. the second i open the front door and fresh air catches in my lungs, i..

i break.

a tear slides down my cheek, and i am quick to wipe it away. pretty much all the customers had gone away, as it was nearing to close time.

fuck. fuckfuckfuck.

it shouldn’t hurt this bad— why does it hurt this bad? he said he’d gotten over her, that he had no feelings, but it’s so so obvious that part of him still does.

i nearly slide down the wall when i hear a ping from my phone, forcing me back into reality.

megumi. 💍

are you okay?

i stare at the message. i go to type, but everything is blurry, and my hands are shaking. i shut my phone off, and crumble.

a minute later, i hear the chime of the door opening.

“y/n?”

the voice that used to be comforting fills my ears. i turn my head away, shaking my head.

“y/n, talk to me.”

his voice sounds nothing more than an echo. i feel his hands, his warm hands, slide around my face as he kneels next to me, turning my head to look at him.

“oh, baby.” he whispers. i want to push away, i should. but, his touch brings me comfort, he brings me comfort, even if he is the source of my current misery.

“what’s wrong?” he says in my ear, a hand brushing over my back. “talk to me.”

i finally find enough will to push him away. his face shows so much hurt, so much confusion.

“you still love her, don’t you?” my hoarse, tired voice cuts through the night.

“wha.. i, no, no, i don’t love her!” he is quick to defend himself. “our relationship ended years ago. all feeling toward her is gone.”

“that’s a lie. you’re lying.” i say as i stand. i push his hand away that tries to brush the tear off my cheek. “be honest with me here.”

“i am, i am.” he ushers. he raised his hand once more, but hesitated. “i.. you can’t just.. expect me to forget everything that happened between me and her.”

“so i’m right. you still love her.”

he stutters. “i don’t.. i don’t have an answer to that.”

my heart breaks. shatters, even. the man i love, the first and last man i would ever love, still has feelings for an ex he broke up with over five years ago.

i shake my head. my whole body feels like it’s going to crumble any second.

“i’m sleeping at my mothers tonight.” i say, turning away from him.

“wait, wait!” he catches me, hands clasping around my face. he brings me close, eyes scanning my face in a frenzy. “don’t.. don’t do that. please.”

“i need time.” i say, without a hint of emotion in my tone. “away from you.”

“we can figure everything out.” he says, pulling me into him. my body meshes with his, his arms tightly around my waist. “i do admit, some part of me still loves her.” he whispers, like it pains him to say.

i go to push away from him.

“but, but!” he grabs my wrist. “but.. no matter what, it will never shadow the love i have for you.

“back then, i was young, and stupid. my heart was vulnerable. for a while after we had broken up, i never thought i’d find love again.

“but then, i found you. and even though apart of my heart always has a place for her, it’s in the past. i was fifteen when we met. i didn’t know how to handle a relationship, i didn’t even know what love was. truly.

“you taught me that. you taught me what it means to love someone unconditionally. you taught me what it means to love someone.”

my throat catches.

“do you mean that?” i whisper.

“with my whole being, i mean that.” he lets me go, eyes looking over my face. “fuck death do we part, i will find you in every single lifetime. you are all that i want.”

slowly, i smile.

“okay.”

“.. okay.” he nods, face slowly softening. he kisses the crown of my head, breathing in and holding me to his chest. “i love you.”

“i love you too.”

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 17

Kara's phone vibrates in her pocket. She knows without looking who it must be, but her eyes remain glued to the photo of Lena kissing another woman.

All Kara can see of the woman in the first photo is that she has dark hair and delicate features, but when she scrolls down other photos paint the woman more clearly. A lump catches in Kara's throat.

It's Rhea Elle. A model turned actress, she's notorious in the press for younger partners and absolutely drop dead looks. In these photos, it's hard to say which of the two women the photographer had actually meant to capture. Kara's stomach sours.

Lena calls again. This time, Kara reaches into her back pocket and retrieves her phone. She shoots her family a look, and finds them staring warily back at her, uncertain and waiting for her reaction.

Kara lifts Esme's phone, still glowing with the incriminating photos. "Can I hold onto this for a second?"

Esme nods.

Retreating to the guest room, Kara finally answers Lena's call. "I told you my leaving wasn't about us," she says shakily.

"I know," Lena says quickly. "I know and I believe you, I swear. This--"

"Isn't isn't what it looks like?" Kara finishes for her, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. "Are you really going to tell me they faked these?"

"They're from *months* ago!" Lena exclaims, voice lifting in volume momentarily, before she forcefully brings it down. "I can explain everything..."

A beat of silence follows after Lena trails off, and Kara remains quiet.

"Right," Lena mutters when she realizes that Kara is waiting for her to continue. "After my last break up, Rhea's team reached out to me on her son's behalf. They suggested a publicity romance, to get the focus off the fact that I'd been dumped."

"And in return?"

"Her son Mike gets on the playing field. He-- he wanted to move beyond the affable idiot roles he'd been getting, and they hoped being seen with me would align him with the heartthrob roles he wanted."

Kara grinds her teeth together. "And this correllates to you making out with his mom how?"

"I declined, obviously, and Rhea inferred that to mean I might be more agreeable to a more... feminine touch."

"How would that help her son?"

"It wouldn't, but it would have helped her." Lena sighs. "Kara, she kissed me. I didn't ask for it, and I shut it down. When she realized she'd overstepped, her team quashed the photos."

"Until now."

"She says it was Mike who leaked them, but..." Lena's voice deepens. "It doesn't matter now."

Kara swallows thickly. "Lena..."

"Please, Kara. I wouldn't do that. Not to anyone."

In spite of herself, Kara senses the truth in Lena's voice. As insane as the excuse sounds, in Kara's albeit limited googling into Lena's public life, she's never found any hint of cheating. She's been called a serial dater, a heart-breaker, sure... but never a cheater.

"Kara, I-- jesus. Maybe this would be better in person..."

Kara grimaces. "I'm not ready to come back yet."

"No, I didn't mean-- of course. You can take as much time as you... shit. You don't need my permission--"

"Lena?" Kara cuts in carefully. A small smile curls her lips when Lena sputters to a stop. "Do you want to come join me?"

Silence answers her for a long moment, then--- "Really?"

Kara carefully considers the out Lena is offering, weighing Alex's hospitality against the tiny note of hope in Lena's voice.

"Yeah. Esme would love to see you again." Kara pauses. "And we could talk. For real."

Lena's throat clicks. "I-- I would like that. After tonight I have three days before I need to be in Madrid... I can book a hotel--"

"I'll check with my sister, since I'm currently staying in her guest room," Kara allows, "but it might be easier to keep a low profile if you stay here."

"Okay!" Lena says quickly. "I mean... but only if you're sure. And if Alex says it's okay."

Kara isn't 100% sure her sister would approve of the decision, but is at least majority percent sure that she'll go along with it.

"I'll text you."

There's a rustle as Lena nods against the phone. Then Kara hears her take a breath, and somehow the sound is nervous, anxious, and perilous. As though Lena stood at the edge of a chasm.

Then Kara hears the release, and the trust that comes with it.

"Okay."

[shima-draws]

Actually genuinely started crying when Luffy almost said he wanted Usopp off the ship and then Sanji interrupted and yelled at him. What the hell. This shit is so sad what the FUCK bro

[mxwhore]

such a horrible day couldnt have ended any other way

[the-golden-dragoness]

Not crying and being guilt ridden again :))))))

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

.

[softpine]

whoever the anon is that constantly finds a way to hate on elaine, please stop 😭 you’re entitled to dislike whoever you want, but it’s getting tiring to hear. i don’t want to block you because the other things you say are perfectly reasonable and i would be happy to answer them, but it’s clear at this point that nothing elaine does will satisfy you so i see no point in hashing it out

[vogelmeister]

put in my withdrawal from this show and it feels like i just shot myself in the foot

[blastawaytournament]

as any kingdom hearts fan would know, sometimes old worlds make a reappearance in later games! i'm wondering if people would prefer a preliminary type deal where repeat worlds face off to pick the ultimate version to go in the main poll (I.E. KH1 Hollow Bastion vs KH2 Hollow Bastion/Radiant Garden vs BBS Radiant Garden), just let them run wild in the main poll (I.E. have KH1 Traverse Town vs Dwarf Woodlands and DDD Traverse Town vs Arendelle at the same time), or group each version together as one?

[awolfnamedluna]

tfw you're struggling to decide what game to buy when you've had your eye on both of them

[tvrningout-archived]

i am once again popping on to remind y’all that i care you very much and miss y’all!!! and i will be around again!! at some point!!! life is just stressful and taxing at the moment, so it’s hard to find motivation, particularly when i want to move blogs for a fresh start ;n; but i do plan on coming back!! even if i do it slowly as per usual asdfg 

as always, thanks for being patient with me and i’m wishing y’all a very happy weekend!!

[newvision]

I just cried reading everyone’s answers to the question about the best thing that happened to you this summer from my uquiz :,) I’m so full of love for all of you I’m hugging you forever you’re all my best friends

[evansbby]

I love the poyt series BUT PLS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD KILL STEVE OR ANYTHNG LIKE I SERIOUSLY HATE HIM. AND NO AMOUNT OF CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT CAN SAVE HIM. LIKE I WAS SEETHING IN THE LAST CHAPTER OF HOW QUICKLY WE JUST FORGIVE HIM??? LIKE TF it's always like this i'm sick of reading stories where the man lead does shitty things and the female forgives him for the bare minimum. PLS MAKE YOUR EXCELLENT FIC DIFF THAN OTHERS AND MAKE THAT MAN MISERABLE AND GIVE US A HAPPY ENDING NOT WITH HIM!! Thanks!

Your opinion is completely valid and I’m glad your so invested in the fic but please do trust me!