#it's just always been insane to me that SO MANY of the people they save now have concrete knowledge of the supernatural

[raeinyourdreams]

'call it what you want.' | l.h x reader

pairings: logan howlett x sway!reader

tags: fluff, no established relationship but.. there's something there, mutant!reader (they call her sway due to her mutation.. i love her i wanna talk ab her someone PLEASE ASK AB HER), AFAB reader, she/her pronouns used for reader, no specific petnames for reader (just bub and her hero name.. gets called kid like twice), no use of y/n, written with x2 logan in mind... sigh... save me x2 logan.. anyway, he gives reader his dog tags before a mission in case he.. you know.. so maybe angst? but only til the very end.

wc: 2k!!

a/n: OKAY SO BOOM! this is my first actual work that's not a drabble and i'm so anxious to post AAHHH, i got the inspo from a post i saw a while ago while fried as fuck from someone requesting a fic ab logan giving reader his dog tags, pref fluffy and angsty so i hope i did ur vision justice OP!! tysm for inspo, my reqs are always open 🫶🏻 also i know this is a very burnt card but if something in the wording is off lmk PLEASEE english isn't my first language 😭 anyway enough yapping plz enjoy!! any type of interaction is appreciated

'call it what you want, just know these are yours now.'

you've never seen him without his dog tags, he never took them off, not ever since the first time he came into the mansion. you'd been there the first time, you were a teacher in the school, and you'd seen him occasionally roam the halls and stay by the door, listening in on your class, quietly. but very rarely interacted otherwise, just a simple nod or a 'good morning' that he'd return out of good manners, but he'd mostly keep to himself.

you're a teacher. you're the fun teacher. at least that's what your coworkers seemed to agree upon, seeing how your students appeared to leave your classroom more cheerful than they entered. you'd be lying if you said you didn't use your mutation as an advantage in this situation, being able to read your students' moods every day, how they were feeling and why came insanely handy, especially when it came to giving each student the type of care they needed. which is why you were also a student counselor.

on the days you didn't teach, you'd put that psych degree to work and counsel. in your classroom filled with drawings and fairy lights and stained glass that looked straight from a fairytale, and a door you'd lock for privacy as a student came to confide in you.

obviously despite your title, it wasn't only students who'd come to your office to let a feeling go, teachers too, needed a space to blow off some steam, cry a little sometimes, because they knew you'd soothe them in the end, touch your hand feel the pain dissipate, make it seem as if they'd never felt that way.

up until now, only teachers and students seemed to come to you for help. teachers. and students.

so it did surprise you when the wolverine started showing up in your office after coming back.

"must be tiring. to handle others' emotions like your own all day." he'd say, sitting down on a chair, to which you'd playfully roll your eyes and shake your head. "i don't treat them as my own, i just do what i have to do so they feel better." you'd reply, walking towards the door to lock it out of policy. figured that he was here for counseling as well.

"you treat everyone with so much care it seems like it." he said, which made you stop in your tracks, turning heel to face him, your hair cascading on your shoulders and moving ever so softly as you spun. before you could speak, stunned, he asked again.

"don't you get tired? i mean mentally. it must take a toll on you to be around so many emotions all the time." the way he seemed to read you stunned you, he seemed like a very gruff, cold person from the brief interactions you'd had with him before. truth be told, this was the closest you'd been to logan since he came back to the mansion. it's what other people thought of him, anyway.

but you weren't other people, you were different.

the feeling in your body when you perceive others emotions is strange. you could never put it into words. your mutation was mostly contact based, a small brush of the hand was enough to let you know that person's feelings, the reason behind them, what they needed to feel better and it made it easier to help everyone. you could, however, see and feel the emotions, sometimes even smell them if they were too strong, no need for contact necessary.

with logan, you almost didn't need to be in the same room as him to feel the amount of physical, mental, emotional strain he was constantly under, his superhuman body subconsciously tuning it out, making him oblivious to it. once, after a very dangerous mission, he isolated himself in his room for days, his expression cold and unfazed, but every time you'd walk past an area he was in, the emotions hit you like a truck. so strong you even cried over pain that wasn't yours, a life you hadn't lived.

you looked at him sympathetically, taking a deep breath to concentrate less on the seemingly invisible fog around you two as you sat on the chair, your expression calm and collected. "i'm okay, i promise. thank you, logan."

"like hell you are." "neither are you."

he stays quiet at your retaliation, a weak smile forming on his lips, letting you understand that you were right, not that you needed confirmation.

sometimes, when emotions overpower you, you feel compelled to speak, give words of reassurance, even if you didn't quite know if they'd help or not. "logan, you should let people into your heart, stop living in fear.." you blurted out, unsure of why you were telling him this, but you'd learned to not question it and just speak, because it helped to just hear the words sometimes. it certainly did get you a reaction from logan, as the overbearing feelings you were perceiving faded.. briefly, before they slowly crept back into vision.

it was the faintest of reactions, but a reaction at least.

he nodded, taking in the words silently, as if he were contemplating. you remained stoic, analyzing his demeanor out of pure habit. "did.. you come here for counseling?" you asked, suddenly aware that you were still working, and you weren't even sure if he was here for another reason, or if he did need your help. instead, he shook his head, looking at you as if he were conducting an analysis of his own.

"nah, just came to see you.. sway."

a knock on the door interrupted the brewing tension, a gloomy, childlike presence behind the door, to which you looked at logan apologetically. "i'm sorry logan, i have a student to attend.. but think about what i said." you spoke softly, your warm voice reverberating in his ears like a hug.. something he longed for but couldn't bring himself to ask.

you started seeing him around the classroom more, or rather, he started seeking you out more. in between breaks, before his training, during counseling. it got to a point where your children started greeting him hello and goodbye if he was in the classroom, interacting with him, playing with his hair, always styled like kitty ears. the way he just smiled and let them made something in you bloom, a feeling you couldn't recognize in yourself, but it was pink and warm and fuzzy all over. you couldn't help but wonder if he felt about you this way, too.

slowly, you noticed how, little by little, the gloomy cloud surrounding him would go away when he entered the classroom, how it would be replaced with a pink haze when he looked into your eyes, or made you laugh.. it would quickly fade away, but you'd notice, and noticed how much it resembled that feeling inside you: pink and warm and fuzzy all over.

as time went by, you got used to seeing him around, swinging by your classroom as if it was his haven, a small break from the world he knew, because you were in it. you'd be lying if you said he didn't make you day too, the gloomy atmosphere that once came along with him every time he entered your classroom slowly changing into a lilac haze.

one day, he showed up as the kids were leaving for the day, no colored cloud, but something seemed off. you invited him to sit down as he locked the door after getting in, his expression serene. before you could even speak his hands were on you, pulling you close to him in a hug, and you swore you could feel him shaking slightly. the realization hits you like a bucket of cold water and you just hold him tighter to you, since it feels like the only correct thing to do.

"you're scared."

"no one gets to see me like this, so feel special." said he, almost as if he was confiding a secret in you, which he was.

"oh, trust me, i feel quite special." you replied jokingly, which caused him to let out a chuckle, though it was dull and almost no feeling was tied to it.

you two let go and you asked him what was wrong, and he opened up like it was routine.

"i leave tomorrow. there's a mission out of state and they're asking me to go.. might be off the grid after that for a while." he explained, his voice remained calm but his eyes seemed to reveal to you more of how he was actually feeling.

"i dunno.. thought someone should've known in case.. things go south." your expression changed at that, and logan noticed. "ah, c'mon bub, change that frown, it's just reality. sure, i might be a piece of work to kill but it doesn't mean i can't die."

the silence that fell upon the classroom as you two finished speaking made the words fall with more weight into your heart, it did little to nothing to comfort you as you came to terms with what he said. it shouldn't have been hard - he was just stating a fact -, but it didn't mean that it didn't cut deep for you. you opened your mouth to speak, unsure of what you were even going to say, but he quickly cut you off.

"logan-" "listen, bub, you told me to start letting people into my heart.. i'm letting you in."

slowly, his hands went to unclasp the chain that always dangled on his neck, dog tags adorning his neck with his names, his identities. you looked in awe as he held them out to you. "gimme your hand, kid." and surprisingly, you did as you were told, holding your hand out as he placed the piece on your hand, feeling the cold metal clink softly as it fell and heat up under the temperature of your palm. you looked up at him, unsure of what it meant, of what this changed between you two, but it felt undeniable, even if unspoken.

“now, these.. they’re very special, bub. a reminder of everything that happened that led to here.. and it’s leading me to you right now.” he explained. “feels right for you to have them, i guess.. keep them safe, kid.”

the silence that fell between you two again was more comfortable, filled with a newfound tension that left much to question, but it didn’t feel right to interrupt with all that noise yet. the only sound filling the room was the breathing and a faint humming of the white noise machine you kept in your room, next by the door. you opened up your mouth again, your mind utterly blank and filled with thoughts and questions at the same time, unsure of which one was going to breach through your mind to materialize out in the cold, tense air.

“.. why me? trust me, i’m flattered, but i’m no one special, logan..” you questioned, and it made him frown.

“you are special. you're special to me.” your eyes widened at the confession and you watched as a soft smile settled on his face, one that made your heart flutter with the sheer tenderness he held in his gaze. “call it what you want.. just know these are yours now.” he said it so calmly, you wouldn't have tought he was handing you his heart, placing it in soft, tender hands and pleading you to not break it, not change it, and instead embrace it and accept it as it came, rough around the edges.

with that, he stood up from the chair, took your hand to squeeze it briefly, and walked out of the room, not before looking back at you one last time, the heaviness that he carried as he entered the room seemingly gone, all that you could perceive was a haze, all too familiar, one that left as quick as it came as his eyes met yours.

pink, warm, and fuzzy all over.

additional author's note: BOOM SHAKALAKA I POSTED FINALLY!! i think it's a little rushed BUT!! it's cause i have a (smutty) part 2 planned for this HEHEJEHE i don't like writing (or reading) series bcs i get sad when they end but i just might.... hehehe... anyway pls lmk what u think!! or i kill off logan 🥰🥰 your choice 🥰🥰

taglist: @allen-444

[doveotion]

Being self aware is literally hell I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy

[vargamornight]

i just have such cognitive dissonance when considering the reality that the same show whose canon lore is that people who go to hell are tortured physically and emotionally for hundreds if not thousands of years, and when they all eventually break, they become the torturers, until every last shred of humanity has been burned out of them and they become demons themselves is also the show with the racist truck episode

[punkcherries]

sonic prime so cool ............

[absentlyabbie]

seriously, though. i work in higher education, and part of my job is students sending me transcripts. you'd think the ones who have the least idea how to actually do that would be the older ones, and while sure, they definitely struggle with it, i see it most with the younger students. the teens to early 20s crowd.

very, astonishingly often, they don't know how to work with .pdf documents. i get garbage phone screenshots, sometimes inserted into an excel or word file for who knows what reason, but most often it's just a raw .jpg or other image file.

they definitely either don't know how to use a scanner, don't have access to one, or don't even know where they might go for that (staples and other office supply stores sometimes still have these services, but public libraries always have your back, kids.) so when they have a paper transcript and need to send me a copy electronically, it's just terrible photos at bad angles full of thumbs and text-obscuring shadows.

mind bogglingly frequently, i get cell phone photos of computer screens. they don't know how to take a screenshot on a computer. they don't know the function of the Print Screen button on the keyboard. they don't know how to right click a web page, hit "print", and choose "save as PDF" to produce a full and unbroken capture of the entirety of a webpage.

sometimes they'll just copy the text of a transcript and paste it right into the message of an email. that's if they figure out the difference between the body text portion of the email and the subject line, because quite frankly they often don't.

these are people who in most cases have done at least some college work already, but they have absolutely no clue how to utilize the attachment function in an email, and for some reason they don't consider they could google very quickly for instructions or even videos.

i am not taking a shit on gen z/gen alpha here, i'm really not.

what i am is aghast that they've been so massively failed on so many levels. the education system assumed they were "native" to technology and needed to be taught nothing. their parents assumed the same, or assumed the schools would teach them, or don't know how themselves and are too intimidated to figure it out and teach their kids these skills at home.

they spend hours a day on instagram and tiktok and youtube and etc, so they surely know (this is ridiculous to assume!!!) how to draft a formal email and format the text and what part goes where and what all those damn little symbols means, right? SURELY they're already familiar with every file type under the sun and know how to make use of whatever's salient in a pinch, right???

THEY MUST CERTAINLY know, innately, as one knows how to inhale, how to type in business formatting and formal communication style, how to present themselves in a way that gets them taken seriously by formal institutions, how to appear and be competent in basic/standard digital skills. SURELY. Of course. RIGHT!!!!

it's MADDENING, it's insane, and it's frustrating from the receiving end, but even more frustrating knowing they're stumbling blind out there in the digital spaces of grown-up matters, being dismissed, being considered less intelligent, being talked down to, because every adult and system responsible for them just

ASSUMED they should "just know" or "just figure out" these important things no one ever bothered to teach them, or half the time even introduce the concepts of before asking them to do it, on the spot, with high educational or professional stakes.

kids shouldn't have to supplement their own education like this and get sneered and scoffed at if they don't.

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Neil.

I know you are flooded with asks and this somehow became extremely long. Too long. “Why am I suddenly telling this poor man my life story?” too long. “I think I’d rather he work on the GO3 script than read this wild beast” too long. “He’s going to think you’re criminally dangerously insane” too long. If you never get to it, I’m good with never seeing a response from you. Maybe it’s better that way? Maybe an anon would have been nice here. But, it’s 2024, so I say “we ball.” It’s a privilege to be able to send this to you at all. You get a lot to this effect and I hope they give you good feels, so maybe what’s the harm, yeah? Because this is not an ask. This is a thank you letter.

First, thanks for reblogging my therapist post, I hope it amused you. I nearly sent you “How am i supposed to explain this to my therapist?!” But refrained. At that time.

So, therapy. What is therapy really? Well…

Things have been really rotten for as long as I can remember. Bad health, bad doctors, bad relationships, bad coping mechanisms, bad all kinds of things. (Yeah, bad is a weak and unhelpful word, my therapist reminds me, but we’re doing this.)

Well, things got even more really really rotten and BAD these last few years. Health declined further, coping mechanisms declined further and more intensely, packed up my life, applied for disability, moved back in with my parents across the country.

Then 4 years ago last week I watched my fiance die of a sudden heart attack. I was 29. Two years later my best friend died. Then last summer I sauntered vaguely into a cancer scare. Not long before an operation my cat who has been my companion through so much garbage died as well. I’m not entirely in the clear on the cancer scare front. All my attempts at going back to work, volunteering, going to grad school - they collapsed on me because I couldn’t get through this STUFF.

(Sometimes when I talk about this, when I tell people, I think “they are going to think you are a raging pathological liar.” Because I’m not sure I would believe someone if they told me all of this happened to them. In such a short time period. All before they were 35. And hell if that hasn’t been isolating. You know how it sounds? Lonely. And it is.)

I did the hypervigilant and sensation/experience chasing stage of PTSD. It got me in a lot of trouble in all kinds of ways. I had to do a lot of medical and psych advocating because things kept getting worse. That was exhausting. Then that peaked. I went into the thick of the “I feel absolutely nothing” stage for a long time. I didn’t feel fatigue or hunger or thirst. Not people, feelings, a reason. Not hope.

But of course, like seems be for a lot of us, I somehow found Good Omens at just the right time. I was a very “I’m so cool and intellectual I mostly consume non-fiction media” person for too long. Like, what? How is that even a real thing? And it wasn’t real. It was just part of this curated autism mask that I don’t think anyone really bought anyway.

I think I got to a point where I’d just had too much reality. I needed fantasy. I didn’t realize I always needed it. But I denied myself for too many odd and painful reasons. Maybe I thought it was an escape I didn’t deserve.

But as it turns out, it wasn’t an escape. I watched both seasons last fall, and then this light came on. I watched it again and again.

I came to tumblr because I needed more. I found this fandom. I stepped into this beautiful world of fanart and fanfiction and brain flexing meta writing and a sense of community and wonder that you and Terry created - that everyone involved in the show inflated - exploded in the right way - like fireworks if fireworks were some kind of autocatalytic reaction - a self perpetuating force.

It’s not a “saved my life” feeling. Not a “getting my life back” feeling. It’s been a “maybe it’s time for you to have the life you’ve always been denied - that you’ve denied yourself” feeling.

I’m creating. I’m not “great” yet. Not terribly “good” at all. Maybe “behind” as far as the “proper” timeline for starting. I know there isn’t one, not really, but boy does that society machine make ya feel like there is. And sure, I started and stopped a lot in the past. But the second it got hard I always gave up. I felt like if I didn’t get it “right” to begin with, then I just didn’t have it in me at all. But for once I’m really in it. I’m writing and trying to draw things that look less like fever dream five year old drawings. (Not that there’s anything wrong with those, is there? 🙃) I’m eating better. I’m sleeping better. I reach out to old friends more. I’ve made new friends who share this love of Good Omens.

My therapist has been floored by the change in me. After that first funny mini flop, he has been so encouraging about it. I saw him this week and I said “Maybe this is helping me get prepared to start living again. Maybe it’s a springboard.” And he honest to god said “But You ARE living. This is YOU LIVING. Why does it have to be a springboard? Why do you have to turn this into ‘work?’ Just let yourself have this for once in your life.”

But there were two more added elements that made it all work. And I can’t help but think this whole brainrot thing wouldn’t have happened without them. So many things just happened all at just the right time - a proper coincidence.

In all of the madness of the last few years I finally got the memo that I'm autistic. i figured I was for a while. But it finally sunk in for me and my docs and my people. So I’d been working on unpacking that. Grieving the life that could have been entirely different, shedding the mask. I let myself hyperfixate openly instead of hiding it and hating myself for “spiralling” or “obsessing” like others -!like ‘I’ always punished myself for before we knew that it was a trait and not a personality flaw.

Then over the last few months my therapist and I started trying this new exercise. One session he stopped me and said “in the last 20 minutes you have responded to what I’ve said with 9 ‘I knows.’” My response to that? “Ugh, I know.” So we started this “I know” swear jar type situation. Really, I’ve been afraid of not knowing. I couldn’t let myself “not know.” Because it meant I was “dumb.” I was just drowning for so long in guilt and self loathing for the “I knew better and screwed up anyway.” Or “I should’ve known better - I should know that by now.”

As it turns out, there’s a lot of things I don’t know. That I didn’t know. Things I will never know. And refusing to admit all of that kept me from learning a damn thing. Kept me from asking questions. Kept me from trying new things because it was scary to do something new - something unknown - and I "knew" how it would all turn out anyway. Kept me from connecting with people because it was painful or embarrassing when they knew things I didn’t and it seemed like I already should have. Kept me from getting better at making art, music, writing. Kept me from forgiving myself. Kept me from growing. And kept me from moving forward. Maybe not on. I don’t know if we ever “move on” from things. But we can move forward as we carry them. And as we do, the weight gets less. We’re able to carry it better. But only if we can admit that we don’t know how. Only if we don’t treat ourselves like this is something we do know or should know and we’re just failing because we’re less than. Not good enough. Not strong enough. Not deserving. We have to be able to say “I don’t know how to do this.” And then we can start looking for the answers. We can ask. We can learn.

I thought about the apple. Being able to tell the difference between good and evil. Aziraphale’s years and years of watching what he “knows” to be true be proven wrong. Crowley’s need to ask questions…

The simple and enormous gift of “Knowledge.” The “Knowledge” of the difference between Good and Evil. The “Knowledge” that can only be gained by realizing, accepting, admitting that there are things we don’t know. Asking the questions. Sometimes we get answers we don’t like. Sometimes the consequences of asking hurt us. And unless you want to stay in that painful place that painful knowledge got you, well, you’ve got to let yourself learn how to get out.

So all of this good? I never expected this. I never thought I deserved it. Joy and belonging and this sense that “Yeah, maybe things can get better. Maybe things can be good.” Because I said those things, not truly believing them, to the people I thought needed to hear it. But it couldn’t save them. It was hollow. The proof for us wasn’t really in our orbit or on our radar at the time. And now they’re gone.

People always say “it’s never too late.”

One of the people I lost said “it’s later than you think.”

I jokingly would respond “it’s already too late.”

It was for him in the end. For them. For some people I guess it really is. But maybe a lot of the “too late” people are there because they think “they know” that things will never be good for them. So they stop looking, they stop asking, stop finding. And eventually they just stop.

Then there came Crowley’s “It’s always too late.” The first time I heard it I thought “For sure, Crowley-cakes, I KNOW.”

But then…I just needed to rewatch the whole thing. And lines like that…familiar things…familiar themes…I was suddenly identifying with these characters. I suddenly saw myself. And the realization hit - I connected with something! Something new. And I FELT THAT. And that tiny little crack that made in the wall was just enough to start breaking it down. Yeah, when you start letting yourself feel after not feeling for so long, opening up to the good feelings means opening up to feelings and then the bad ones come out too. But when there IS good … it helps you balance. You can deal with the bad a little better because you’ve got the good thing to lean against when it gets too much. And now you’ve got feelings. You’ve got good and bad. You’ve got sticky foggy grey. You’ve got life.

Whew.

So, TLDR, thank you. From the bottom of my slowly healing heart, thank you.

And to sign off with some shits and giggles… I couldn’t find this in existence as a sticker so I had to custom order. Perhaps this will spread misery and panic among the humans of my city - or at least a malignant and creepy sense of unease.

Or maybe they’ll say “wtf” and go home and google it and they’ll fall into the Good Omens hole they never knew they needed too.

Thank you for this. I never quite know what to say to messages like this apart from I am really glad that it helps. (It becomes the weird extra piece that I worry about when writing season 3 -- hoping that it will be that thing again. Not just a story, but something that helps people feel and helps with healing and helps with love.)

[allaboutnayeli]

F.T.L | m.leon x reader / i.engen x reader

summary: you find out mapi is cheating, so you get revenge in the best way possible: getting a taste of her lover.

author notes: figure out what F.T.L stands for :)

contains: mapi leon x reader, ingrid engen x reader, mapi leon x ingrid engen, medical university student!reader, tattoo artist!ingrid engen, this is full of cheating & lying, cheating used as a form of revenge, everyone is sorta a piece of shit sorryyy, tons of angst, this is NOT smut so don't even, toxicity, a prime example of what NOT to do in a relationship, this is very long cause i'm not leaving yall on a cliffhanger, this is very insane so buckle in 🙂🩷

playing B.A.S by megan thee stallion 🎵

"are you sure she's cheating and you aren't just overthinking?" your bestfriend, daniela, says. the brunette is sitting right next to you on her couch. one arm resting on the back of the couch, her face resting in the palm of her hand and the other hand holding a glass of white wine.

"i wouldn't just accuse her of something this bad if i didn't have a reason to be suspicious," you respond. you take a sip of your own wine to shove down the anger and sadness that's bubbling in your conscience. not that daniela would ever judge you if you did let those emotions show themselves. the woman has been your pillar since you started having these suspicions about your girlfriend, maria.

my name is maria, but everyone calls me mapi. i would rather you call me yours, though, is what the spaniard said the first time you two met. you thought the pickup line was so cringe and dorky, but at the same time, so cute coming from the tattooed brunette.

and that one line led to nearly four years of a loving relationship. what can you say? mapi is one of the sweetest people you know. she remembers small details like how you prefer oat milk than any other kind, so she always makes sure to get it when she does the grocery shopping or the way you used to complain about how tight your hair ties were, so she bought you extra stretchy ones. she's the cutest cat mom with bagheera being absolutely spoiled. mapi was also protective, good with kids, and so many great qualities.

she is also a cheater.

sweet, caring, certified cat lover, super dorky maria is a cheater.

you sat on this suspicion for a short while before booking it to daniela's while mapi is at her favorite tattoo shop getting another inked beauty; that darned tattoo shop.

"after nearly every appointment, she goes out for drinks with her tattoo artist. at first, i thought she just made a new friend, but she always came back home looking messier than usual.. smelling like some perfume.. and when i ask her what they did at the bar, she barely tells me anything," you explain, "and you know how mapi is! she's the type of person who wouldn't be able to stop talking even if it was to save her life."

daniela nods in agreement. anyone who spends even a few minutes around mapi knows how much the spanish woman likes to talk. if there was a guinness world record for the "biggest yapper" mapi would be a record holder.

"okay, i would be suspicious too," daniela says. you let out an exactly that makes her playfully hit your arm. "anyways, back to what i was saying.. what are you going to do about it? even if she isn't cheating, something is going on."

you purse your lips as you take in her question. what are you going to do? confronting her right away feels wrong when you don't have concrete evidence. randomly accusing your girlfriend to her face wouldn't go over well; mapi is a sweetheart, but hates when people say she did something she's sure she didn't.

after some thinking about it, you come up with an idea.

"i need actual proof.." you start to say. daniela gestures for you to hurry up as you trail off.

"i have to get access to her phone."

it's around eight when mapi comes back to you guys apartment. you're feeding bagheera dinner when the spaniard walks through the door.

not wanting to seem suspicious and also just genuinely missing your girlfriend (even if you did suspect she was being disloyal) after a long day of basically not seeing her, you pet bagheera before standing up and going over to the front door. mapi has already slipped off her shoes when you walk over. she's smiles when you come close.

"hola mi preciosa," she giggles when you give her a welcome back home peck, "how was your day, hm?"

"good.. but better now that you're here," you say, pulling her into a hug. it's warm and makes your heart flutter like usual. those flutters go away as you smell that unfamiliar perfume on mapi, reminding you of what you talked about with daniela. you hide your frown in mapi's neck.

"aweee. you missed me that bad?" mapi says when you pull yourself out of the hug. still holding onto her as you two move to the kitchen.

you roll your eyes at her sudden cockiness. it's an annoying but charming trait of hers. now you wonder if that same charm is what made another woman fall for her hard enough that she didn't care that mapi was already taken; if the woman even knows.

you push those thoughts away. playfully teasing her as you say, "no, i just didn't want to wash the dishes after eating dinner. now you can do it."

mapi perks up at the sound of dinner and then groans at the talk of dishes. that was her least favorite chore by far.

"cmon, amor. you know you wash the dishes way better than i do," she pouts at you, leaning against the kitchen island. that pout makes you smile (something that you reprimand yourself for mentally) as you get the lasagna out of the oven.

you hear the meow of bagheera as she comes over to mapi. the brunette bends down and picks up the black cat right away. kissing the top of the cat's head like she always does.

"i swear you love that cat more than me," you joke.

mapi shrugs, "can you fault me if i did? just look at her, babe. she's adorable." she holds up bagheera so that the cat's face is facing you. of course, the black cat looks adorable per usual. you might not have been there from the beginning, but you love bagheera just as much as mapi does.

"yeahh.. the cutest one in the house," you say before turning your attention to the lasagna. you make two plates of lasagna and grab both when you finish.

"grab us some drinks, will ya?" you walk from the kitchen to the table in the 'dining room', which is really just open space between the kitchen and living room that needed something to be filled up with.

mapi says a quick okay before setting down bagheera back on the floor (she gives her a kiss before she does, of course) and goes over to the fridge. she grabs a pink lemonade for you and a pepsi for herself. she follows after you, setting the drinks down on the table, then sits down.

"gracias, mi amor," she says when you place her plate down in front of her. once you sit down across from her, you say, "de nada."

you two eat a bit before you bring up the tattoo shop. mapi is rambling on about the meetings she had to attend in the morning,

"-and all he does is go on and on about basically nothing. i don't get how someone can talk so much.." the spaniard says in between bites. you let out a giggle at the irony of mapi, of all people, complaining about someone talking too much. the nice atmosphere sours a little (at least for you) as you think back to what you need to ask; just to confirm, this suspicion of yours isn't something you made it due up to overthinking.

"he sounds annoying as shit," you chuckle, easily sliding into the topic you really want to know about, "beside all that, how was your tattoo appointment?"

mapi visibly gets less chipper than she was while rambling. the change is subtle, she bites her lip and starts to sorta push around the food on her plate as she looks down at it like she's thinking about what to bite next.

your eyes flicker down to her lips. why is she being hot at this moment? the spanish woman really has no right when she's acting like she doesn't wanna talk about something that should be her favorite topic. mapi loves tattoos. everyone knows she loves tattoos, so why wouldn't she yap about her appointments like she does everything else?

she takes a bite of her lasagna before shrugging, "it was alright. i didn't get anything done, but i talked with my tattoo artist about the design i wanted."

you nod, waiting for her to continue on like she usually would with any other topic, but no.

mapi just goes back to eating. obviously waiting for you to reply back to her.

"that sounds nice, baby. what design did you pick?" you ask.

"uh, just a design of bagheera."

"that's adorable."

mapi smiles at you, "i know. i already have a few of her, but i want more, you know. she's getting older."

"yeah, she's becoming a grandma." that makes mapi laugh loudly, going right into joking around about bagheera's age. you join in and don't even say anything when the topic strays away from the tattoo shop.

you two talk about practically nothing, finishing the rest of the lasagna. now both of you are washing dishes instead of it just being mapi's chore. what can you say? you aren't able to resist her puppy eyes even when all you think about when you see them now is if she ever used those on another woman romantically.

"are you ready for our date tomorrow?" you say, drying off a plate mapi handed you.

she smiles, "of course. i have been missing our date days. i'm so ready to spend the entire day with the prettiest woman i know." she turns towards you, puckering her lips for a kiss. you giggle and peck her lips a few times.

"you really think that?" you say. it comes out playful, but there is vulnerability lingering at its edges. in mapi's eyes is some concern, she knows you like the back of her hand. of course she would notice if you sound insecure.

mapi puts down the plate in the sink and dries her hands before pulling you close to her. she kisses the side of your face as her arms hold onto your waist, "why wouldn't i? just look at you. the love of my life."

usually, her words would reassure you right away, but not now. not when you are sure she's cheating on you. if you're so beautiful then why is she fucking around with someone else?

you don't let those thoughts influence your actions, though, as you hold onto her tighter. if you hold on a little longer, maybe you can pretend that mapi just really likes that tattoo shop and isn't doing anything strange. maybe you can pretend she's still all yours.

mapi lets you be the one to pull away, kissing you right away. then when that ends, she smiles, "i'm gonna finish up these plates, then shower. just go relax, okay?"

you nod, pecking her lips again before leaving the kitchen. you go to sit on the couch, bagheera coming over to sit on your lap. a cuddle session starts as bagheera snuggles up to you. the only sounds in the apartment is the tv playing, bagheera's purring, and mapi's humming as she washes the dishes as the woman can't even be silent when doing that.

soon enough, the sound of the water running stops. mapi says, "i'm going to go shower first. i'll be out in thirty. can you put my phone on the charger for me, amor?"

"mhm, sure!" this is finally your chance to check mapi's phone. you kiss the top of bagheera's head before letting her get off your lap, so you can go grab mapi's phone.

you reach the counter where she left the device on. your heart starts racing as you pick it up. just do a quick look, then put it on the charger you tell yourself as you start to type in mapi's password.

it doesn't work.

the password that mapi has been using since you two have been together isn't working.

"what the fuck..?" you murmur, trying the password one more time before just accepting that she changed it. you already have some evidence just from this because why would she change it? this also foils your plans. how can you get in her phone?

you decide you need to call daniela later and figure out a different plan.

right when you set down the phone back on the counter, a text pops up.

ingrid 💕

wish you could have stayed-

only the start of the message shows, and when you try to tap on it to see the rest, it says you have to unlock the phone. your heart feels like it's going to beat out of your chest as you tap on the message again, reading it over and over again. who the fuck is ingrid?

you have to get into her phone and soon.

you realize time is ticking. mapi won't be in the shower forever. quickly, you go and put her phone on the charger. your heart beat is not calming down even when you pick up bagheera from her cat tree and start to cuddle with her again. the contrast of bagheera being so calm and sleepy to your internal panic and hurt is laughable, but the black cat is grounding in a way. in the same way that mapi once was.

you sigh as you think about what this all could lead to. definitely a break-up, but you weren't gonna just leave and let mapi live in peace with.. ingrid. whoever the hell that is.

you are still deep into the mourning the lost of your relationship when mapi comes out of your bedroom. she's dressed in her usual oversized white t-shirt and shorts so short it looks like she isn't wearing any at all.

cute is what you would of thought if this was a week or two ago when you weren't sure that your girlfriend wasn't enjoying the company of someone else behind your back.

however, just because you figured mapi is cheating or doing something wrong doesn't mean all your feelings go away like a switch. you still find mapi very cute with that freshly washed, sleepy look on her face. you still want to get up and go kiss her on your way to the bathroom like you always do,

so you do. when you get off the couch, you make sure to stop and give mapi a long kiss. "you're adorable," you say when you pull away. enjoying the way her lips are slightly swollen. the spanish woman giggles, pecking your lips once more.

"you're even cuter," she says before leaving your side to go to the couch. immediately cuddling up to bagheera just like you were earlier.

you go into your bedroom, grab your pajamas, and then go into the bathroom. whether to shower with cold or hot water is a battle for you. the cold will make you have goosebumps. it'll shock you enough that for a quick second, you won't even think about this. but the hot water will burn your skin and warm up your heart that feel like it's already melting from the outside.

hot it is.

as the first few water droplets fall down onto your body, you let out a sigh. the warmth of the water feels so good but makes your mind feel so hazy, you hate it but you love it and damn you wish this wasn't happening right now.

maybe it wasn't.

maybe when you finish doing this and walk out of this bathroom, mapi wouldn't be a cheater. her password would be the same. ingrid, whoever she is, wouldn't even be in the equation. you would just go out there and cuddle with mapi like you always do, then go to sleep together like you always do then you two would go on a date and everything will be perfect like they always been.

has it always been perfect? how long has this cheating thing been going on? has mapi been cheating on the entire time? is mapi even trustworthy?

and what about ingrid? who is she? is she hotter than you? talks better than you? has a better job than you? is she some fucking bombshell who you can't even compare to?

why? when? how? who? why?

why the fuck would mapi do this to you?

"amor!" the voice of mapi shakes you out of your thoughts. she knocks on the bathroom door. when you don't reply right away, she says, "can i come in? i need to piss."

your mind moves slower than it should as you take in what she said. would it be wrong of you not to want her in here? not when you feel so vulnerable that it's like your skin was stripped off of you.

"uh.. i'll be out quick. can you wait? please?" you say. stumbling to start actually washing your body instead of just standing under the water.

mapi doesn't reply but moves away from the door. concern overtakes her mind as she goes back over to the couch. you two have been together for almost four years now. you have seen her in every way, and she has seen you every way, so what's so crazy about her using the bathroom while you shower? she thinks back to earlier when you asked her if she really thinks you're the prettiest woman she knows. the insecure tone you had didn't escape past her. is it because of that? if it is then why are you feeling insecure in the first place? mapi thinks over the last few months and nothing comes up for why you would feel that way.

unless you knew about ingrid, but you couldn't know about ingrid because mapi has been careful. she still has been the most loving girlfriend towards you, so nothing would be suspicious. of course, mapi hasn't been loving just because she wanted to make sure you didn't catch that she's sneaking behind your back, she genuinely still cares for you.

you definitely don't know about ingrid. this is just one of those times when you need extra reassurance which mapi is fine with giving.

she loves you.

she swears she does.

"you can go piss now," your voice pulls mapi out of the chaos that is currently her mind. in the time of her panicking and being concerned, you had finished showering and changed. now you're standing next to the couch. she smiles as her eyes land on you. "look at youu. all clean and cute," she says after standing up. you slightly flush at the compliment (even though you don't want to. it's a natural reaction, okay?)

"shut up and go piss." you giggle, moving past her to sit down on the couch. mapi playfully blows you a kiss before leaving out of the room. the interaction between you two should make your heart feel fond, but how can it when in the back of your mind is the reminder that mapi is probably acting this way with someone else when you aren't around. you wish you could blow away all of these feelings you have for her, but you can't so you just let bagheera come cuddle you.

and when mapi comes back into the living room, a large blanket in hand, you still cuddle up to her while you two watch cartoons. this is something you will definitely miss when you leave her. the thought of leaving mapi is not one you want to think about right now, so you push it to the side and snuggle up more to the spaniard.

it's easy to pretend everything is the same if you don't think about anything.

an hour later, you're laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling while mapi cuddles you. her head is on your chest, her arm around your waist. you can feel the gentle exhale and inhale of her body.

it should calm you. right now, you should be rubbing small circles on her back under her shirt. you should be kissing the top of her head at random until you let the clutches of sleep take you.

but you can't.

your body feels frozen as you lay there. how many times have mapi been like this with ingrid? the thought fills you up with dread, anger, sadness, disgust. jealousy.

what about her makes her so much better than you?

you haven't been giving mapi all the attention she deserves, but only because you're trying not to fail your classes in pre-med. staying on campus until late doesn't give you the same whimsy feeling as sitting around with mapi doing nothing or going out with mapi or just existing alongside her.

if only you could detach yourself right now.

if only this was one big misunderstanding.

if only this wasn't happening.

you wish you was stuck in a dream right now and all you had to do was shake yourself awake.

why?

maria, why?

you lay there for another hour, just letting your thoughts trample you, then you slip away. the sight of mapi cuddling up to the pillow that's supposed to be you makes you smile and want to cry.

you do cry.

as you step onto the balcony attached to the living room, phone in hand, the sound of ringing joining in the busy sounds of barcelona's nightlife.

"it's nearly one am and i have a eight am class tomorrow so this better be-"

"i saw a text," you interrupt her. you don't mean to, but you have been keeping this to yourself since you saw it.

daniela doesn't speak for a few minutes. you hear the shuffle of her covers and the click of a lamp being turned on. then she says, "from the chick she's cheating with?"

"her name is ingrid. mapi has a contact saved with a heart, a fucking heart. i couldn't see the entire text, right?" daniela says a small right. "so i tried to unlock her phone and she changed her password! mapi changed her password and i swear she has probably had the same password since like high-school because you know she can be forgetful and-"

"slow the fuck down. my brain can't keep up with all that, and you are working yourself up. calm down, y/n," daniela says. you stop talking, allowing yourself to just breathe for a minute, but that doesn't mean your blood stops boiling.

"i am trying to calm down but dani, my girlfriend is cheating on me for fucks sake!" you don't mean to shout at her, but you do. thankfully, you're outside, so mapi couldn't have heard you.

"okay! okay. alright, sorry," daniela sighs, "so you saw a text from some chick named ingrid, tried to see the full text, and couldn't get into mapi's phone because she changed her password?"

"yes.."

"okay, listen. this is what you're gonna do."

the next morning, you wake up to the smell of bacon and the sound of jazz music playing. you slide out of bed and walk out into the living room to the sight of mapi looking pretty in the kitchen as she cooks. she's already dressed, unlike you. instead of immediately saying good morning, you just enjoy the sight for the few minutes that you do. this is something you will miss, so what's wrong with indulging a little?

mapi doesn't notice your presence right away, too distracted with the music, cooking, and her own singing. it's only when she turns to the kitchen island to change the song playing on her phone that she sees you. a smile blooms on her lips right away. "buenos dias, amor. how long have you been there?" mapi moves from in the kitchen to where you are in the living room.

"long enough to hear your horrible vocals," you say as she pulls you into her arms.

"they aren't," she pecks your lips, "horrible."

"i think our neighbors would disagree."

"they should be lucky i'm giving them a free performance. i could be the next-" you shut her up by kissing her. it starts off lazy, but soon you are more forceful; not for the usual reason, though. it's not passion driving you to press against mapi, but anger.

your almost make-out session is interrupted by the slight smell of burning. "shit, the bacon," mapi lets go of you before speed-walking to the kitchen.

she's able to cut off the stove before any of the bacon truly burns. thankfully, the fire alarm doesn't go off. your neighbors would really hate that. you walk over to the kitchen, going to lean against the kitchen island. you watch mapi as she plates breakfast for the two of you. now that you are actually standing in the kitchen instead of looking from afar, you can see mapi has cooked more than just bacon. there are toast and scrambled eggs as well. the warmth that suddenly blooms in your heart irks you and, at the same time, saddens you. this is a domestic scene that mapi and you have been in many times. the spanish woman loves to cook for you, but what's to say she doesn't love cooking for her little secret?

"thank you for all this, babe," you say when she hands your plate to you. mapi laughs off your thanks, saying something along the lines of i'm your girlfriend it's my job inbetween bites of bacon. usually, you two would sit at the dining table and eat, but today, yall opt for sitting at the kitchen island.

your shoulders rub against each other as you eat. of course, mapi yaps in between bites. mostly about all the activities she has planned for you two the entire day, how she hopes you are impressed, and that yall should match since it is a date day today. you keep up with her good enough. she has been your girlfriend for nearly four years now, after all. just responding back from time to time keeps her happy. mapi doesn't really need a reply to continue talking anyway, just your attention.

you finish eating before mapi (to neither of yours surprise), so you go to wash the dishes and let mapi play with bagheera for a bit. that only takes ten minutes or so then you are off to the bathroom to get ready for the day, making sure to kiss both of your girls before you do. bagheera lets out a meow when you leave her eyesight, but soon her attention is redirected elsewhere as mapi starts to rile her up.

when you step into the shower, all the emotions you were putting behind a lovesick mask can show themselves. the bitter taste that feels your mouth, the betrayal that burns your throat, the guilt that grips onto your shoulders. you shouldn't even be feeling guilty right now. not when mapi is the one who betrayed your loyalty. still, the sting of guilt lingers around your skin, burning you. in a perfect world, you would be feeling like shit for even thinking that mapi, your sweet, perfect, mapi was cheating. your bestfriend would shake your shoulders and say, "are you stupid? that woman is inlove with you." instead, you were met with okay, i would be suspicious too. you try to lift that dread that pools in your stomach by thinking about how fun this day is going to be,

and how you should savor it since it's going to be one of the last.

author notes: this is an lesson on how you shouldn't trust anyone's words.. JK but fr sorry for the cliffhanger, this was just getting way too long. part two coming soon 🩷 (this is not grammar checked bare with me yall)

© ALLABOUTNAYELI

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being kind and civil with people who drive me insane?

So this is something that happens all the time and it's a pattern so to save your time, I'll only mention the one incident which that I got called out for several times, it's starting to make me think I might be TA.

I (34F) work in a grocery store. Maddy (???F) works in the security department and is in charge for looking through our grocery to ensure we didn't steal anything (our workplace is uncomfortably strict about this since many employees have stole in the past) She is very rude, I never liked her. She makes me so uncomfortable a lot because she yells all the time. At everyone. She never realized how offensive she is.

Anyway, sometimes I'd walk past her after my shift forgetting that I'm carrying grocery bags etc and she'd yell at me to get back there. It's always embarrassing because anyone who witnesses that would most likely assume I'm a shoplifter because of the way she's yelling. She yells about other stuff too mind you, don't think I always forget the fact I'm carrying grocery. They don't allow us to bring our bags inside and we have to keep them in our locker (according to her, I never heard this elsewhere). She yells at me if I try to take my purse with me if I'm in a hurry. She says it's ~the rules~ and we need to follow them but like, she the only security staff who's this strict about it. The others don't even bother to check our groceries because they trust we don't shoplift and it's actually stupid because we could still shoplift anyway and hide the items in our pockets and they don't perform a body check anyway (they used to in the past but were legally required to stop because of Covid).

How do I deal with her though? Every time she'd yell, I reply to her very calmly and attempt small talk to absorb her anger. For example, if she's angry about my grocery, I'd show them to her and ask stuff like "what is you favorite brand of milk/bread/egg etc etc"

She does engage but it never made her actually stop and think about her behaviors for a single second. I have always stopped to chat with her whenever I can and she always speaks calmly when I do, but returns to yelling when I "break the rules" as she says.

But here's the thing. My patience is limited. I'm like a battery, if you keep charging me, I'll eventually explode. I planned remaining civil with Maddy forever, but enough is enough and I accidentally lashed out. I lashed out on her ONCE only, I yelled much louder than she did, for 30 minutes, lecturing her about work etiquette. She was so surprised and taken aback. She told me "where did this all come from?" Like she didn't see it coming? She seriously mistook my patience and tolerance of her behaviors for friendliness. And that was the last time we talked, I reported her to HR the next day because I don't think she'll ever get the memo, and that's when I learned thst so many employees have complained about her already but they can't fire her because she an outsource and has strong connections in her company, management has already talked to her numerous times but she just doesn't listen, so don't call me TA for not communicating, it doesn't work with her.

My friend Gloria (28F) and many others including our manager (F30s) told me I should've not been chatting with her, I should just ignore her and disengage. They think the fact I'm talking kindly to her will just make her assume she isn't doing anything wrong and encourage her to keep behaving like that, and that she'd think I want to be friends??? None of that is my intention. I just want to be civil to her to indirectly get her to realize her behaviors weren't acceptable. I'm setting a good example for her, to learn from me how she should treat people and soften her heart.

I was called TA because they said I didn't have to be civil with her if I knew I might eventually lash out (but lashing out isn't something I planned??), and I should've just avoided her and set boundaries. Gloria told me it's an AH move to go out of my way to interact to someone I despise when ignoring them is an option and that makes me two faced and makes the people around me wonder if I truly like them or I'm basically tolerating them, but this wouldn't happen if I they weren't rude in the first place?

BTW a similar thing eventually happened with Gloria because her attitude sucked with me and I lashed out eventually because enough is enough, she said she should've known not to trust me because of how I treated Maddy and I shouldn't have befriended her if I "hated" her so much. AITA?

[martian-astro10]

Solar return observations- Part 5

If you have Saturn in 12th then sleep well, that is....if you manage to fall asleep in the first place. (I have it this year and IT SUCKS, I have literally not been able to sleep, I've tried every single tea, every meditation, white noises, NOTHING WORKS, I also have mars in 12th, so I'm just fucking tired the whole time)

North node in 2nd is an indication that you'll start earning money for the very first time in your life, it doesn't have to be a full time job (I have seen this a lot of times when a person starts working for the first time, like a part time job or something. You get to experience what it's like to have "your" money)

I'm pretty sure that an astrologer has already said this, but I don't remember who, so I'll say it again, Uranus in 3rd means getting a new cycle, bike or car, basically anything that helps you with short distance travelling. (One of my friends have it this year and he already had a cycle but it got stolen and he just decided to buy a car, since he has money saved up for one)

This is very specific, but if you have Jupiter in 9th/ 11th then GO GET THAT RECOMMENDATION LETTER. (If you are graduating or planning to get a new job, this year is good for that. The years in which my sister, my friends or I have had this, our teachers, bosses or colleagues were SO impressed with us and we got really good reference letters, we slayed so hard in those years)

Vertex in 6th can be a VERY busy and exhausting year. Too many responsibilities and not enough knowledge of how to deal with them. (I had this the year in which I started living alone, It was also squaring my moon and dude, TW the suicidal ideation was STRONG. I wish I could give some sort of an advice but I don't know what to say, you just need to learn how to deal with the problems as they come)

Mercury square Neptune....the level of miscommunication is insane. (One of my closest friends has this and she...I love her but she's being very annoying. We were on a trip and she was talking to some people, so me and my other friend, we started clicking pictures, cuz we didn't want to disturb her and she comes up and says "why are you guys doing this without me, why are you not including me, if you don't wanna hang out with me anymore just say it" like GIRL) if you have this, don't start unnecessary drama, communication will be difficult so just stay quiet

Chiron in 12th is one of the shittiest years in regards to mental health, I hate this. (My friends have had this before and it's there in my 2025 solar return chart and I'm already dreading it. Everything bad that can happen...happens. I don't care what anyone says, this placement is just pure EWWWW and NOTHING can convince me otherwise)

Aries in 8th can be the year in which you lose your virginity (If you WANT to) I know quite a few people who had this the year they lost their V-card. (It's completely okay if you don't though, take your time and do it with a person who you trust and love, no pressure)

Mars in 9th is such a good placement for travelling and studies. (I had this in my 1st year of college, I remember I was so excited, studying was very easy, I loved learning new things and stuff, it was very nice. I was also travelling a lot, discovering new places. I had a lot of energy, really fun year)

Sun in 7th is a great placement if you want to work with others. (My mom has it this year and her business is ON FIRE, every time she has a meeting, it goes so well and she always gets a better deal than what she expected) this is a really good time for working with others, in partnerships. If you are a student, then you're going to do especially well in group projects.

(all pictures are taken from Pinterest)

© martian-astro All rights reserved, 2024

[mayapapaya33]

I had sort of hoped Keyleth would have matured and grown past her anger at the Matron over the past 33 years but I suppose it's in character that she hasn't fully dealt with her grief yet. And the Vorb probably isn't helping her issues either. It just sucks because I think a lot of the fandom take Vox Machina's grief fueled blame and fully accept it as fact when the reality is that Vax's situation is almost entirely his own responsibility. The only other person with any remote culpability is Percy. And even Percy is only really to blame for accidentally Killing Vex, not for Vax's choices. But even if you want to hold Percy accountable for Vax's choice in the tomb as well, that still doesn't make him responsible for Vax's death. Vax could have lived a long full life as the Matron's Champion, as shown by the Delightful Purvan Suul and his companion Galdric.

Vax was a borderline suicidal, self-sacrificing character from day one. He always threw himself into danger headfirst regardless of the cost to himself. Between Percy accidentally setting off the trap creating the circumstances for Vax trading himself to the matron during Vex's resurrection, all the way up to Vax CHOSING to come back as a revenant after being disintegrated in order to help defeat Vecna, the choices have always been his. Especially him, fate touched as he is. Ultimately, Vecna killed Vax and Vax killed Vax. I think it's easier to blame the Matron than to be angry with Vax for being who he was.

The Matron maintains the balance of life and death. She accepted Vax's offers both times, do you think she should have refused? The first refusal would have meant Vex's death, and the second refusal would have meant Vax possibly just staying dead after being disintegrated, and not being there to fight against Vecna, which was truly an all hands on deck situation. There was no time to fuck around with a resurrection ritual that might not even work, the whole world was in danger. One life, a life that was already lost, is a small price to pay to save the world. I'm pretty sure Vax would agree with me!

Frankly, Vox Machina were super lucky and privileged to have so many successful resurrections between them. I think they got a little spoilt and entitled about it honestly. Most people have never even met someone who's been resurrected before, they did it like 20 times! Vax was disintegrated, he chose to come back as a revenant to fight Vecna, protect the world, and help his family. An opportunity he was only given due to his allegiance to the Matron. She gave Vox Machina and Vax extra time together and a chance to help save the world.

For those of you shouting "what about true resurrection!?! I hear you, and Matt said it's complicated and didn't elaborate lol. Personally, I think the Matron has quite the special a barrier of entry to true resurrection, if the spell even works at all in Exandria. I think they touched on it briefly in Calamity but I've forgotten. I can only imagine what insane ritual Matt concocted years ago that he's had plenty of time to work on since. Part of the Matron's whole thing is that everyone must eventually go into death, sure they can avoid it for a while, so some resurrection is fine (the DC gets higher every time), but eventually enough is enough and it's time to go. Hence why necromancers and liches are her enemies.

At any rate, I'm really proud of Keyleth for going to therapy and I hope she goes back when all of this moon business is over because she still needs it and that turtle lady in the frog seemed great lol.

[tteotlma]

Dialed In

phone sex - foreplay - dystopian

Deadpool/Reader (3.3kw)

a/n: KINKTOBER DAY THREEEEEEE -- i wanna explore w more characters so if you have any suggestions let me know. i liked writing w deadpool (it was my first time)

tw: 18+ MDNI, sexual content, strong language, adult humor, dystopian themes, violence, phone sex, masturbation, graphic dirty talk, intimate photographs, crude humor, isolation, separation, anxiety

---

The world has currently gone to hell, overrun by rogue AI and corrupt government forces, forcing many to isolate and go into hiding. Being Wade’s “Sexy Pants Love Nugget” (as he likes to put it) comes with perks. When everything went to shit Wade made sure to keep you safe in some surprise underground bunker he had. 

“Oh, this?” Wade gestures around the bunker. “It’s my secret underground love lair.” He says turning to you. You only blink back at him, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

“Okay, fine,” he huffs, clearly upset you won’t play along, but he gets it—whole world potentially ending and everything. “But it is my secret underground lair. Every superhero—or, anti-hero, in my case—needs one. Sure, Batman has his cave, Tony Stark has his fancy mansion, but me,” he thumbs his chest with a grin. 

“I’ve got a bunker, baby. Way cooler.” He winks playfully, grabbing your hand and leading you to the slightly crusty-looking sofa pressed against the wall.

“People thought I was nuts, but I planned for this whole dystopian thing ages ago. Call it my ‘just-in-case-the-world-goes-to-shit-and-I-need-to-hide-out-with-my-favorite-person’ bunker.” He gestures toward the kitchen. “Stocked with essentials: Raisin Bran, chimichangas, and—wait for it—pajama onesies. We’ve got a blue unicorn, a white one, a purple one, and a whole collection of Hello Kitty undies. Oh! And the entire Golden Girls DVD box set,” he adds, pointing at a dresser stacked with DVDs and an old TV stand.

He then gestures proudly to the back wall, packed with an insane amount of weaponry. “We’ve got bean bags, grenades, Korth Super Sport Revolvers, Wilson Combat EDC X9s, Beretta 92FS Fusions…” 

“Okay, I get it—you’ve got a lot of guns, babe,” you cut in, scanning the dimly lit space. It's rough, but you can tell he tried to make it somewhat livable.

“Thank you! I could’ve gone on forever.” He drapes an arm around your shoulders and walks you over to an area closed off by a curtain. With a flourish, he pulls it back, and your heart melts. “I-it’s not exactly home, but…”

You see that Wade has recreated your shared bed from home—favorite blankets, pillows, and even the sheets you love so much. The walls are decorated with photos of the two of you, Polaroids capturing goofy selfies and candid moments.

“Wade, are those my tits?!” you screech, pointing at a very questionable Polaroid.

“Whoops! No idea how that got there,” he says, ripping it off the wall and shoving it into his back pocket. “Let’s replace it.” He grabs another photo and sticks it up—a shot of his bare dick. 

“Half-mast,” he says with a smirk, patting the photo. “So you don’t miss me when I’m gone.” With that, he dramatically flops onto the bed, blankets billowing up around him.

“What do you mean, ‘when you’re gone?’” you ask, your voice softening as you slide onto the bed next to him, immediately resting your head on his chest. His arm wraps around you instinctively, pulling you closer in that familiar, protective way. Beneath the layers of humor and bravado, there’s always been something deeper with Wade—something he doesn’t say out loud.

He hesitates for a moment, his usual playful banter faltering. “Oh, you know... just in case I have to run out and save the world or do something *really* heroic, like buying more chimichangas. Super serious stuff.” His voice lightens, but you can tell there’s more beneath the surface, the words left unsaid.

You gently trace your fingers over the zipper of his hoodie, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath you. “Wade...”

He sighs, the weight of the moment catching up to him. “Look, babe. We both know the world’s gone to hell. I mean, have you seen outside? It’s a total dumpster fire out there.” His fingers absentmindedly play with a strand of your hair as he talks. “And in my line of work, well, there’s a pretty high chance I’ll have to go out there, guns blazing, and… you know, maybe not come back. But don’t worry, I’ll leave you the last chimichanga. It’ll probably be stale, but hey, it’s the thought that counts, right?”

You roll your eyes at his attempt to make light of the situation, but there’s a knot tightening in your chest. “You’re not going anywhere without me,” you mumble into his suit, holding him tighter. The idea of losing Wade, even in this chaotic, end-of-the-world scenario, is a thought you don’t want to entertain.

“Aw, babe, you know I’d never leave you behind. I mean, who else would make sure I don’t do something stupid like try to fight a sentient toaster again? You’re basically my safety net.” He grins, trying to break the tension, but his eyes give him away—there’s a flicker of something more vulnerable there.

The space around you, dimly lit by the flickering lights of the bunker, feels oddly intimate in this moment. You look around at the effort he’s put into this hideaway—the mismatched sheets that remind you of home, the Polaroids plastered on the walls, capturing your life together. Even the ridiculous weapons display on the far wall feels like an odd testament to how much he wants to protect you, how much he’s planned for every possible disaster.

“I didn’t just build this bunker for me, you know,” Wade murmurs, his voice unusually soft. “It was always about you. Us. I didn’t want to drag you into all my… crazy, but look at us now. Dystopian lovebirds, right?” He chuckles, but there’s a certain warmth behind his words.

You look up at him, meeting his eyes. “You’re not going anywhere. We’ll figure it out together—whatever ‘saving the world’ means today.” You reach up, cupping his face, feeling the rough texture of his skin beneath your fingertips, a reminder of all he’s been through. All the battles, the scars, and the fact that despite everything, he’s still here with you.

Wade gazes at you for a long moment, his usual bravado melting away as he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “You’re too good for me, you know that?” he says, his voice barely a whisper.

You smirk. “Maybe. But you’ve got great taste in blankets,” you tease, pulling the fluffy fabric around you both, cocooning yourselves in warmth.

He chuckles, his arm tightening around you as he settles back into the pillows. “Damn straight. If the world’s gonna end, at least we’ll be cozy, right?” There’s a brief pause before he adds, almost as an afterthought, “Also, not to brag, but I do look fantastic in a unicorn onesie.”

You burst out laughing, the heaviness of the conversation lifting just a little, and Wade grins, clearly proud of himself for making you laugh.

“Okay, okay,” you say between giggles, “but seriously, we’re sticking together, right? No going off and playing hero without me.”

He nods, his expression softening as he strokes your hair. “You got it, babe. No solo hero gigs. We’re in this whole ‘dystopia survival’ thing together.” 

You let out a content sigh, resting your head back on his chest as his heartbeat thrums steadily beneath you. “Good,” you whisper, closing your eyes and savoring the moment of peace. Despite the world falling apart outside, in this little bunker, wrapped up with Wade, you feel safe.

“Besides,” he adds, his voice back to its usual playful tone, “how could I possibly leave when you’ve got a *killer* set of boobs and a healthy appreciation for my half-mast photos? I’d be an idiot.”

You groan, smacking his chest lightly, but you’re smiling, and that’s all Wade wants right now. “You’re impossible,” you mutter, but your heart is light again.

“And yet, you love me,” he quips, leaning down to kiss you on the top of your head. “So, unicorn onesie or Hello Kitty undies tomorrow? Gotta plan for our next ‘post-apocalyptic fashion show.’” You laugh but don’t say anything, instead just toying with the fabric on his chest. 

As you both lay there, wrapped up in the makeshift comfort of the bunker, the moment feels almost peaceful. But deep down, you know it’s only temporary. The world outside is falling apart, and Wade—despite all his jokes and deflections—has his part to play in it. 

“Hey, babe…” Wade’s voice cuts through the quiet, a note of seriousness creeping back in. “About that whole ‘not going anywhere without you’ thing?” His hand absentmindedly traces patterns on your back as he speaks.

You tense, instinctively knowing where this is going. You lift your head, looking up at him, your face inches from his. “Wade…”

“I know, I know,” he says quickly, trying to keep it light. “But, I gotta head out for a bit. You know, just a quick, heroic, ‘save the day’ kinda thing. Be back in a jiffy.” He tries to throw in a wink, but there’s something in his eyes that betrays the attempt at humor. 

“How long?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, but it’s hard not to feel the weight of the moment.

“Not long. A few days, tops,” he replies, sitting up and gently pulling you with him. “Just gotta check in with some ‘less friendly’ neighbors, make sure the whole ‘end of the world’ thing doesn’t get even worse.” His hand moves to your cheek, his thumb brushing softly over your skin. “But don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.”

“You always have a plan,” you say with a half-smile, trying to sound reassuring.

“Damn right I do,” Wade grins, but it’s softer this time. He pulls you in for a kiss, lingering just a little longer than usual. When he pulls back, his eyes are serious again. “Hey, I’ll call. Every night. Promise.”

You nod, trying to push down the unease rising in your chest. “You better.”

He kisses you once more, then with a quick, exaggerated salute, he hops off the bed, grabbing his weapons and gear in a flurry of movement. “I’ll be back before you know it. Save me some of those Raisin Bran boxes, will ya? Don’t go hogging all the cereal.”

With one last glance back at you, he’s out the door, leaving you alone in the dimly lit bunker.

A Few Days Later

The first few days without Wade pass slowly, the silence in the bunker oppressive without his constant banter and chaos to fill it. You’ve been waiting for his calls, clinging to the brief moments of contact, even if all you get is his voice crackling over the speaker.

And then tonight—finally—your phone buzzes. You grab it immediately, heart skipping a beat when you see his name flash across the screen. You pick up, the sound of his voice instantly soothing the tension you didn’t realize you’d been carrying.

“Hey there, hot stuff,” he purrs through the line, his voice lower and rougher than usual. “Miss me?”

“Maybe a little,” you tease, leaning back against the pillows, letting the warmth of his voice wash over you. “How’s the whole ‘saving the world’ thing going?”

“Ugh, overrated. Lots of running, shooting, not nearly enough hot dog carts. But let’s not talk about that. What’re you wearing?” His voice dips into that playful, flirtatious tone, and you can practically hear the smirk through the phone.

“Wade,” you roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at your lips. “I’m literally in one of your Hello Kitty onesies.”

There’s a pause, then a low, appreciative whistle. “Now that’s a visual. Wish I could see it, babe.” His voice deepens, taking on that familiar, sultry edge. “But I guess we’ll have to get creative, huh?”

Your pulse quickens at the change in his tone, warmth spreading through you as the playful conversation takes a turn. “Oh yeah? What exactly do you have in mind, Wade?”

“Well,” he drawls slowly, “I may not be there in person, but I’m pretty sure I can still make you squirm. What do you say we have a little fun, babe? You, me, and a whole lot of imagination…”

The spark between you flares to life, and as his voice wraps around you, you find yourself sinking into the moment, ready to close the distance between you—if only for a little while.

Your heart races as Wade’s voice lingers on the line, playful yet dark, and you can already tell where this is headed. The tension between you two, even across a phone, is undeniable.

“So, babe,” Wade purrs, his voice low and suggestive, “tell me… are you touching yourself yet?”

You can’t help but laugh softly at his directness. “Already jumping to the good part, huh?”

“Well, time’s a-tickin’ and I’ve got bullets to dodge, but I always make time for you. Besides,” his tone dips, slow and deliberate, “if I were there right now, I’d already have my hands all over you.”

Your breath catches a little, the way he says it making your pulse quicken. You lean back against the pillows, the soft fabric of the onesie brushing against your skin, but your thoughts are far from the cute outfit.

“Oh yeah? What exactly would you do, Wade?” you ask, your voice dropping a little, wanting to draw out the game just a bit longer.

His low chuckle vibrates through the phone. “First, I’d unzip that onesie of yours, real slow, because damn, I bet you look so sexy in it. I’d start at the top, pull that zipper down until it’s just barely clinging to your shoulders. I wanna see that skin, baby.”

You bite your lip, following his lead, your fingers trailing down the zipper of the onesie just as he describes. The fabric parts, revealing your chest, and even though Wade isn’t here, the image he’s painting is so vivid, it feels like he is.

“Are you doing it?” he asks, his voice husky with need. “Tell me what you’re feeling, babe. I wanna hear you.”

“I am,” you murmur, your voice soft, already feeling your body respond to his words. “The onesie’s almost off… feels good.”

“Mmm, I bet it does,” Wade groans through the line. “Now slide that thing off your shoulders, let it fall down your arms. God, I wish I was there, helping you out of it. I’d be kissing every inch of that skin, so fucking slow.”

You slip the onesie off, letting it pool around your waist as your fingers graze your bare skin. The way Wade’s voice dips into that raw, hungry tone sends a thrill through you, and you close your eyes, imagining him there, hovering above you, his rough hands tracing over your body.

“Are you touching yourself yet?” His voice takes on that teasing lilt again. “I need details, babe. Don’t leave me hanging.”

Your hand moves instinctively, trailing over your breasts, feeling your skin warm under your own touch. “Yeah, Wade,” you whisper, your breath a little shaky. “I’m touching myself.”

“Fuck,” he growls. “You know what I’d be doing right now? I’d be right there, kissing your neck, working my way down to those perfect tits. I’d take my time, sucking on those nipples until you’re begging for more.”

A soft moan escapes you, and you know he heard it because his laughter on the other end of the line is thick with satisfaction. “There’s my girl,” he breathes. “God, I love making you squirm. Are you wet for me yet?”

Your body reacts to the words, the heat spreading through you. “Yeah… I am.”

“Good,” Wade says, his voice low and gravelly. “Now, slip your hand between those legs. I want you to touch yourself the way I would. Make it slow, babe. Imagine it’s my fingers on you, working you just the way you like it.”s

You do as he says, your hand slipping lower, your body already aching for more. His words, that deep, dirty tone, only fuel the fire burning inside you.

“Fuck, babe, you have no idea how bad I want to be there. I’d have you spread out on that bed, legs wide open for me. I’d start by teasing you, just like this… soft touches, barely there, making you crave it until you can’t take it anymore.”

Your breath hitches as your fingers move, mimicking his words, teasing yourself, and imagining his hands instead of yours. The tension coils tighter with each movement.

“Wade,” you whisper, your voice trembling with need, “I need more.”

“Oh, you need more?” His voice is all taunting pleasure. “You gotta tell me, babe. Tell me exactly what you want.”

“I want you inside me,” you breathe, the words slipping out before you can stop them, your body already on fire.

“Fuck,” he groans, and you can practically hear him adjusting himself on the other end of the line. “God, I’d slide into you so slow. You’d feel every inch of me, stretching you, filling you up. I’d make you scream my name, babe.”

You moan softly, your fingers pressing deeper, following the rhythm he’s setting, your mind lost in the fantasy of him inside you.

“You close, babe?” Wade’s voice is hoarse, filled with desire. “I wanna hear you come. I wanna hear you fall apart for me.”

You’re right on the edge, the heat pooling low in your belly, your body tightening with every stroke, every dirty word falling from his lips. “I’m so close,” you gasp, your voice breathless, trembling.

“Good girl,” he growls, his voice dark and commanding. “Come for me, baby. Let go. I wanna hear every fucking sound you make.”

And that’s all it takes. Your body shudders as the release washes over you, your moans filling the quiet of the bunker as you ride out the waves of pleasure, your fingers slowing, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Fuck, that was hot,” Wade groans through the phone, clearly turned on by the sounds of your pleasure. “God, I wish I was there to see that. You’re so fucking sexy, babe.”

You lie there, spent and flushed, the heat still lingering in your veins, your chest rising and falling with the aftershocks of the orgasm. “Wade,” you murmur, smiling despite the exhaustion. “That was…”

“Epic? Mind-blowing? Something you’ll want to do again tomorrow night?” he offers with a chuckle, his tone lighter now but still thick with affection.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “All of the above.”

“Good,” he says, the smirk evident in his voice. “Now get some rest, babe. I’ll be back soon. And then we can pick up where we left off… in person.”

You can’t help but grin, already looking forward to it. “You better come back in one piece.”

“I’ll try my best,” he teases. “But if not, I’ll always have my half-mast pic to keep you company.”

“But you know I need more,” you tease, a playful edge in your voice.

There’s a brief pause on the other end of the line, then Wade’s voice drops, lower and rougher. “Oh, trust me, babe. When I get back, you’re getting all of me. No holding back.”

You can’t help but smile, your heart warming at the promise in his tone. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Good,” he purrs, “because I plan on giving you a lot more than just pictures when I’m done here. Stay safe, babe. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Stay safe, Wade,” you reply softly, feeling the warmth of his words even through the distance.

“I will. Now get some sleep… and dream of me.” There’s a pause, followed by a mischievous laugh. “And maybe that half-mast pic.”

You laugh softly, feeling lighter despite the ache of him being away. “Goodnight, Wade.”

“Night, babe,” he says, his voice soft and sincere for a moment before the line goes quiet. “My Sweet Sexy Apocalypse Babycakes.”

As the phone call ends, you lay there, staring up at the ceiling, already counting down the hours until he returns. The world outside may be falling apart, but somehow, in moments like this, it feels a little less daunting.

---

a/n: i luv feedback (GIVE IT TO ME)

[love-byers]

....wait . there are people who don't think the show is centered around will? there are people who don't think a core part of s5 will be wills culmination as a character?? there are people who don't think the entire supernatural plot will circle back to will???

besides the fact that the duffers LITERALLY CONFIRMED that will is the center of s5...

the show itself literally tells you. that is the narrative they've been pushing the entire time.

the entire first season is about finding will. every single plotline is connected to finding will.

mike and the boys are using el to find will

jonathan and nancy are working together to hunt the monster they believe has taken will and barb

joyce is trying to communicate with will to find out where he is and how to save him

hopper is a cop investigating the case, and eventually he and joyce team up to investigate further into the lab conspiracy, believing it's tied to wills disappearance

a massive chunk of s2 is about wills connection to the upside down. he's being hunted by the mind flayer and used as a spy, causing a lot of the conflict but also leading to the resolution.

now that we know vecna was behind all of that, that open so many doors for will in s5. if you use your fucking peanut brain for 5 seconds you'll realize there are lots of things we don't know surrounding will and vecna that will come to light in s5. vecna specifically sought will out and hunted him down. remember s2?

"It wanted to kill you?"

"Not me. Everyone else."

we're also getting flashbacks of will in the upside down so we can see exactly what happened to him the week he was there. clearly there's something important we don't know about. the upside down is literally frozen on the day will went missing. but will isn't important and won't be a big part of s5?

s3 is the first time will is less significant to the plot. he still has the connection to the mind flayer and his ability to sense it is still relevant to the story and helps push it along. bit still, he had significantly less lines and screen time. much of his story is portrayed as him struggling to 'grow up' and not being interested in romance like the others. there are several jokes that present will as simply being childish and reluctant to grow out of it. which a lot of people found sort of annoying. i remember seeing a lot of people enjoying s3, but wishing will had more depth and importance.

but we now know that that's not the whole truth. all of that, him being annoyed and disinterested by romance, just wanting to play dnd with the party, and fighting with mike was all subtext leading into his sexuality and the fact that he's in love with mike. that's been confirmed by actors and the duffers themselves. though will's sexuality was always hinted at, it wasn't meant to fully come to light until s4. so they tried to pass it off as will just being childish. they tried to pass of mike and wills conflict as only being about dnd and growing up. a prime example of this is will tearing down castle byers after his fight with mike. he rips the photo of the core 4 as the ghostbusters down the middle, aka where he and mike are in the center. that is easily passed off as just being about the friend group. people BELIEVED that it was just about the friend group, and that there was no way will was in love with mike. but it's now literally confirmed that he is. like it's insane how many people never even considered that as a possibility. people literally just tune out parts of the show they don't immediately find interesting. i've seen so many comments on byler scenes, for example "it's not my fault you don't like girls", saying "wait i don't remember this scene when did he say that??" people just don't pay attention or think deeper than surface level, which in this case is okay because wills sexuality was meant to be something you slowly realized. the problem comes when people just start denying its significance and refusing to see it for what it is.

if you take in all of will's story with mike and whittle it down to "stupid gay crush on best friend" i don't know what show YOUVE been watching. did you forget that will only remembered his mom and mike when he was possessed and lost his memory? that mike recounting the day they met was enough for will to break through and communicate while possessed? that will puts mikes happiness before his own? that will has literally said he needs mike and always will?

it's not a crush that will can just get over. you know we actually have an example of a simple crush and it's dustin and max. how did that work out? dustin got over max very quickly and it's no biggie. he didn't go on a monologue about how he needs max and always will. he just thought she was cool and pretty.

also, the show spends so much time getting the audience to feel bad for will and want to see him happy. you are SUPPOSED to like him. you are supposed to have empathy for him. will is written to be extremely gentle, kind, and selfless.

will is too nice to say anything bad about anyone, even after being viscously bullied and called slurs for years. even by his own father, WHO HE STILL CANT TALK BAD ABOUT!!!

no matter how much will suffers, he remains kind and selfless. he gave a girl his tonka truck knowing joyce couldn't by him another one. mike says they shouldn't give up on looking for him because will sacrificed himself in dnd to save the party. remember the whole thing in s2 about joyce getting on will for constantly apologizing even when he did nothing wrong? there is no point to that besides evoking empathy for him!!!!! he is sweet and sensitive and doesn't deserve any of this!!!!!!!!

and about bylers being delusional for thinking will and mikes relationship will be a big part of s5 and the culmination of everything in a show about monsters killing people, here's a quote from shawn levy, who has directed many stranger things episodes

"People talk about mythology and The Upside Down, and all that is huge, but the magic of S5 are the characters who find sense of belonging with other and through that connection, become heroes."

everyone loves the stranger things relationships until they're queer. when they're queer suddenly there's no time for romance in a sci fi show, the writers actually suck, and they're just baiting. lumax and their love for each other was a core plot of the season where the big bad was trying to kill her all season. there is an entire plot point about max's memory of kissing lucas at the snow ball saving her life. in a show like this, there is time for relationships and supernatural stuff because they are interwoven when the time comes. they can do the exact same thing with byler in s5. s5 is going to be the longest season thus far. there will definitely be time for relationship development.

so yeah. call me delusional but i don't think the show will end with wills feelings for mike unresolved or with them just evaporating. given everything we know about s5 (relationships and finding belonging being an important factor, noah and finn constantly filming together, leakers saying will has a love interest) and everything we already know about the relationship formulas in ST, literally all the signs are pointing to byler. the only rebuttal people have is calling us delusional because the writers just wouldn't do that. if you actually push past the heteronormativity and consider the fact that the duffers do want to represent queer people in a way that doesn't reinforce the idea that we can never find love or be happy, things will start making a lot more sense.

i'm sorry to have to say this about mike but mike is a character presumed straight who hasn't been super relevant in the supernatural plot for 2 seasons now, just as long as will. his significant plot points are related to el or will. relationship development. and unlike will, he has been an ACTUAL asshole!!!! lots of people stopped liking mike as much after s2 because of his personality change. (ofc i still love mike, but there's been multiple plot lines about mike being a dick for no reason and apologizing for it) but no one has VISCERAL hatred for him like they do will byers. not saying mike deserves hate, cause he certainly doesn't, but the problems people have with will, they only have with will. any other character doing it is fine. 2 seaons of wills feelings for mike is boring and distracting but 2 seasons of mike having the same 'i love you' problems with el isn't?

i'm not saying the sudden hate for will is because it's now clear that he's gay but im kind of saying it

some people can't sympathize with queer issues because they don't care about queer people. they don't empathize with queer people. queer issues bore them.

will byers i will ALWAYS defend you. you are safe with me pookie

[charcoallbaby]

fake marriage

smuttyyyyy ofc so 18+ also a lil toxic

tired asf i’ll do a spelling check tmrw thx for reading!

having a fake marriage was definitely one of the best thing to ever exist especially since i get paid to pretend to love a man who is basically heartless, well to most people he is.

i get to live in a giant penthouse in the city of boston, i get a huge bedroom, with a ensuite plus a balcony, free clothes, mostly everything gets handed to me.

as much i love being in this fake marriage, there are some cons mostly because of matt. i mostly hate hearing him fuck girls in the room next to me, when i can’t do anything like that, he’s very protective of me, he gets jealous very easily, he doesn’t really let me talk to any male being while he’s with me. he punishes me by not paying me that week which doesn’t really effect me, the amount of money i’ve made since this marriage is insane, it would take me months to run through it. but in matt’s eyes he’s somehow “punishing me.”

tonight was a black-tie event for one of his many company’s. he got me a vintage chanel dress from the 90s. it was the most beautiful dress i’ve ever laid my eyes on, i knew the price of the dress would be nothing to him, he just wantedme to look good standing beside him.

“ready?” matt asked while fixing his cufflinks on his wrist. “yeah, i just need to get my heels on.” i grabbed my silver heels from my collection of different types of heels.

“the cars outside y/n.” he looked me up and down. “fuck, can you grab my bag?” i asked slipping myheels on. he rolled his eyes and grabbed my bag off my vanity. “thank you.” i took my small clutch from his hands and made my way to the elevator.

“behave tonight,” matt whispered in my ear before placing his hand around my waist, smiling for the cameras. “i always do.” i say through my teeth. “we’ll see about that love.” he pressed a light kiss to my cheek.

everything is for the cameras and i mean that. the touching, the kissing, theres no contact between us at home. before today i hadn’t spoken to matt in probably 3 days. not that he would talk to me anyway. he only talks to his parents, his 2 brothers, the maids who clean the house(mostly flirting) and the girls he fucks in the guest bedroom, matt would never dare to fuck a girl in his own bed, he’s really weird about that type of thing, he hates when anyone goes into his room well everyone but the maids, as i said he flirts with them a lot, just to make them blush, it boosts his already massive ego. after i come home from picking up some groceries up or going to visit my friends, i hear him making up some story of how he saved an animal or how much money he gives to charity which i know he does. but he hates people, hates them other than the couple people he talks to.

mine and matt’s hands were interlinked as we walked into the building.

“how long have you guys been married?” the older women infront of us asked. i looked up at matt before speaking, “well me and matt have been together 3 years, married for 1,” i gave a fake smile to the women. “that’s just so beautiful!” she chimed. matt gave the women a small smile. “wait!” “what about kids, do you have kids?” matt’s let go of my hand and put the hand i just holding around my waist. i cleared my through before awkwardly laughing. “no, no,” “not as of right now,” i smiled. “maybe soon,” matt finally spoke. “oh really!” she exclaimed. “yes matt really!” i looked up at him, he looked down at me before looking back at the women. “maybe not soon, but in the future.” he licked his lips. “wonderful!” “it was nice talking to your mr and mrs sturniolo, i’m going to find my husband he wanders off!” she laughed. “you too.” matt gave her a straight lined smile. “bye.” i smiled.

me and matt watched her walk away. “fuck,” he took a deep breath. “having kids soon are we?” i turned to him. he moved both his hands around my waist as he looked down at me. “only said that for people to have something to talk about,” i could feel his warm hands through my dress. “it’s crazy how such a cold hearted person can make something up like that,” i teased him. he looked away from me, chuckled before looking back at me again. “you look good.” he licked his teeth. “yeah you too.” i touched his right bicep.

“thank you everyone for coming tonight,” matt awkwardly had his hand in his pocket as he gave a speech. “i would like to thank my team and my wife,” “thanks.” he awkwardly put his drink up in the air before taking a sip.

the room was filled with people loudly clapping.

“what’s wrong?” matt asked as he came down by from the stage. “my feet hurt.” i whined. “y/n baby, i didn’t marry you to whine about your feet come on let’s get a drink.” he put his hand on my back and guided me towards the bar.

“what would you guys like?” the bartender asked. “scotch on the rocks,” “y/n?” matt asked. i looked at the bartender. he smiled at me. i gave him back a small smile. i cleared my throat. “i’ll have a-” “she’ll have a glass of white wine,” matt interrupted me. “alright, that’ll be coming straight up,” he looked at me. “are you trying to piss me off?” he leaned down and whispered into my ear. “no,” i gulped. “you were flirting with that guy,” “matt i just smiled.” “we’re going home, come on.” he grabbed my hand.

the car ride was silent. matt was on his phone making the back of the SUV slightly light up. i looked out the window, mostly trying to notfall asleep.

matt pressed the button for the elevator. he stood there my heels in his hand while looking down at the marbled floor on the lobby floor.

the elevator opened, no one inside. we both walked in. matt pressed the number for our apartment before leaning his head against the wall behind him, closing his eyes. he looked so sexy, his jawline was sharp as fuck, his long hair falling over his eyes and his tie wrapped around his shoulders, he took it off when we got in the car. i pressed the emergency button making the elevator immediately stop. matt’s eyes darted open. he looked at me.

“why’d you stop the elevator y/n?” he groaned. “why are you so overly protective with me matt?” “you know i don’t flirt with guys especially in front of you, you love to make shit up did you see me flirt with that bartender?” “i simply smiled at him as a nice human does,” i crossed my arms. matt rolled his eyes. “what would you like to pretend that i don’t care?” “y/n, you think i care about who you flirt with?” “i actually couldn’t care fucking less, i just you know like to make this marriage look a little bit realistic,” he leaned over and re-pressed over apartment floor button. the elevator began moving again. “this marriage would be a little realistic when i have people over for you to not be fucking some girl,” i looked down at my nails. “what’d say?” “you heard me loud and clear,” the elevator doors opened. “thanks for holding my heels baby.” i grabbed the heels from his hand and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek just to piss him off even more.

i made my way to my room before matt grabbed my arm turning me around. “who do you think you are?” matt asked. i shrugged my shoulders before turning back around. “y/n!” matt yelled, pulling me back and pressing me against the wall beside us. “come on baby, tell me,” matt roughly held my waist. “i’m your wife matt,” i looked up at him. “your my wife y/n and i would like if you actually listened to me when i talked to you,” his grip on my hips became softer. “i’m sorry, i promise i’ll listen better next time daddy,” i batted my eyelashes. his eyes rolled into the back of my head. “i’m going to bed.” he backed away from me. “sweet dreams husband.”

after the little scene matt made, i changed out of my dress and walked into the kitchen to find a snack to eat.

i sat myself down at the kitchen island, a bowl of ice cream in front of me, my phone in my left hand, the spoon in my right. i had been thinking of eating this ice cream all day and now i finallygot a chance.

i was nearly half way through the bowl before shirtless matt walked into the kitchen, he had those plaid pj pants he loved with of course the waist band of his boxers sticking out. i rolled my eyes before focusing back onto the ice cream. i could hear matt open the fridge. i quickly looked at his back. it was so defined, his tattoos making it way hotter that it actually had to be.

“do we have any spare batteries anywhere?” i spoke. matt turned around, opened-water bottle in his hand. “why?” he asked. “for my vibarator,” i popped the spoon into my mouth. matt choked on his water. “do you know?” i asked. he cleared his throat. “yeah, there’s some in the uh-in my office on my desk.” he swallowed. “okay thanks!” i cheekily smiled. matt mumbled something i couldn’t make out before walking back to his room.

i opened matt’s office door to find him sitting on one of the couch’s controller in his hand playing his playstation. hm coincidence.

“sorry i just need to grab those batteries,” i walked past him and looked around his desk. i couldn’t see them. “matt where are they?” i turned around and looked at him. “they should be there,” he said not taking his eyes off the tv. i rolled mine while looking back down at the desk. “matt it’s an empty packet,” i held it up. he finally looked at me.“oh shit yeah- i was just being a nice husband, i already put the batteries in for you there sweetheart,” he flashed me a smile before looking back at the tv. i stomped over right infront of him. “i can’t see the tv princess,” “pause it then,” i bit the inside of my cheek. he paused it, placing the controller beside him. “you went through my stuff?” “you held my viborator!” “yeah, it was a nice one,” he smirked at me. “what the fuck!” “your insane!” i yelled. “eh,” “i’m not that bad love.” he opened his legs, man spreading.

i exhaled. “why would you think that would be a good idea?” i put a hand through my hair. “it was a nice gesture, don’t you think?” he poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. i groaned. “it’s fucking weird!” “your not even my real husband!” “well if this makes you feel any better i did it so it would make the marriage more realistic,” he titled his head at me. “don’t bring that shit back up matt!” i whimpered.

“come on, it’s okay,” matt pulled himself more towards me. he placed his hands on my waist while looking up at me. “matt what are you doing?” i groaned. “it’s okay.” he pressed his warms lips against my stomach. i slowly closed my eyes. his lips stayed on my stomach while he slipped a finger up my shorts and into my underwear. he slid his finger into my soaking core. i let out a moan. he moved his finger inside me. after a few seconds his finger left me. i opened my eyes. his finger in his mouth. “oh fuck, you taste good,” he moaned. “let me eat you out,” he pulled me by the waistband of my shorts towards him making me fall down onto his lap. i quickly felt how hard he was underneath me. “lay there,” he said moving the controller onto the coffee table in front of us. i nodded my head. i layed myself down. matt licked his lips before pulling my shorts and underwear off. he placed himself between my legs. he was quick to slowly suck my clit. i cried out. “all you do is touch yourself y/n, i bet your dying for this,” matt groaned against me. he slipped his tongue into my licking up all my juices like it’s the best thing he’s every tasted. my hands were pulling onto his hair while parting my mouth open in pleasure. “ma-matt!” i cried out. “nearly there baby?” he pulled away from me making his warm breath hit off the pool he was between. “mhm.” i mumbled.

matt gave me one long stride between my folds before pulling away from me. i opened my eyes and whined. i was on the edge of coming. “i wanna fuck you,” matt said feeling his hard on through his pants. “okay-okay.” i breathed out. “not here, in my room.”

matt placed me down onto his bed, his lips softly meeting mine. we’ve kissed before around people but not alone, it felt so much more different this time.

“you on the pill?” he asked pulling his boxers down. i nodded my head. “i’m gonna fuck you without a condom cause to be fair, i don’t really care if i get you pregnant, your my wife after all.”

matt was inside me, not moving. i was trying to adjust his size. “you can do it, i know you can, matt whispered into my ear. “mhm,” i mumbled. he started to move inside me slowly but then started to pick it up. his arm was hovering over me, grabbing the headboard for support “fuckkkkkkk,” he moaned. “y/n, i’m gonna fuck you until the sun rises okay?” he grunted. “y-yeah.” i let out. “such a girl good for me.” he placed a kiss to my lips. his necklace that had a horse pendant was dangling over me, i got him it for his birthday that he claimed to only wear when we have to put our act on but he wears it all time.

i clenched around matt for like the 4th time in the last 2 and half hours.

matt dropped himself down beside me. “it gets better every fucking time y/n i swear.” matt said before sucking a nipple into his mouth. “mhm, i know baby.” i closed my eyes and put a hand through his hair and down his neck.

he popped my nipple out of his mouth before looking up at me. “you wanna order food, we can fuck inbetween don’t worry, i just hungry as fuck when i have sex,” he leaned his chin between the gaps my boobs. “yeah i could eat something i’m starving,” i ran my hand over his cheek. “your choice to pick.” he said before kissing my lips and getting up to throw his pj pants back on. i looked up at him sprawled out on his bed, naked. “am i the only girl you’ve had in this bed?” i asked. “pretty much,” he grabbed his t-shirt from the ground. “i feel special,” i grinned. he jokingly rolled his eyes. “don’t worry, not gonna happen again,” “that’s what you say until you hear me moan your name while my vibartor is between my thighs,” i sat up. “you think of me?” he chuckled. i nodded my head. “my wife actually thinks of me while masturbating, im a lucky man.”

“yeah, no more sex.” i spoke before rolling my eyes.

[lexirosewrites]

it’s my two year Steddie-versary today?!!!

(which means I’m gonna ramble emotionally for a little bit)💛

I’m not really sure how to fully describe the last two years of my life and my involvement in the steddie fandom, but I’ll try!

I remember watching season four of ST and really liking Eddie, thinking he was so cool. I’d always liked Steve, but putting them together was a whole different story. And then I recall seeing fanart, finding a couple fics here and there.

I wasn’t aware how deep I’d gotten until I was drafting a fic of my own, eager to join the fun any way that I could. It had been years since I’d written anything of my own, but I was lonely and bored enough to try.

I drafted my first fic “All Through The Night” for a month.

I wrote it. Rewrote it. Edited it. Doubted whether it should stay in the drafts. Finally, I just hit post.

From there, it kept going. I’d write a few non-omegaverse fics based on TikTok prompts. Then, I’d end up delving into the omegaverse trope in a way I never had before.

I started to remember how much I enjoyed writing and I found a community that was kind to me. I made friends in the AO3 comments of all places!

It was a few months before I joined ST twitter in December of 2022, but I was encouraged to hang out and make more friends.

(I don’t need to rehash the bad parts of my experience because I think we’re all pretty aware of what happened. But I don’t want those things to define me or spoil all the good that’s come from this fandom either. Bullies don’t get to take this from me.

I wasn’t super active on Tumblr prior to my Twitter leave because I didn’t really understand the app😅 we figured it out eventually and I am so grateful to have been welcomed here when I was feeling so low.)

I figured out a lot about myself in this fandom! I identified as a cis, bi-questioning woman when I started writing!! That’s insane to me now!

But I found a place to explore and meet other queer people and ask questions that I would’ve never asked!

I was leading worship at a mega church when I posted my first fic. I was freshly separated from my ex-husband and still hurting immensely. I was working through a pandemic as a nurse and hating my life. I didn’t have much that brought me joy anymore.

This silly gay ship probably saved my life…

And I know I’ve been semi-MIA as far as posting to AO3 the last several months, but I have no intentions of leaving this fandom anytime soon. I will not abandon my fics or disappear. I just need a little bit of a break because I burnt myself out on writing for a year and a half!

God this post went way too long. Oops.

Okay! In summary! Today is my two year Steddie-versary and I love you all!!! I’m grateful for the friends I’ve made and the support I’ve had to share my stories.

(also tbh I cannot believe I tricked this many of you into reading mpreg)

[pepperyduck]

west end girls - hiromi higuruma

synopsis: after you filed for divorce, hiromi's been acting strange. he's got a problem that only you can fix.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: potentially triggering content, nsfw, angst, guns, reckless actions, unhealthy marriage, unhealthy relationships/attachment/obsession, hiromi is cray, unprotected sex, finishing inside, riding, on a couch, hiromi is a bad husband, very much bojack horseman behaivor, ooc hiromi. (18+ mdni!)

notes: this is me rambling and i'm sorry. i'm floating rn. love u guys. pls read the warnings. mwah. inspired by the song west end girls by petshop boys.

masterlist

although the wind was chilly outside, you buried your nose in your scarf and kept walking down the street towards the firm. it was early morning, birds chirped lightly in the trees, and you found yourself feeling off that day. you didn’t know why.

you didn’t know why, until you passed a certain coffee shop you used to visit often.

inside, pure chaos had erupted, it seemed.

a familiar man to you, and a stranger – or maniac – to the others inside, held a gun. it wasn’t pointed anywhere but to the temple of his head. tables had been knocked down, chairs had been kicked, people had been pushed into the corners of the shop, too scared to move or run away. everyone was frozen in fear, except for him.

“hiromi.”

your voice was cold as ice as you called his name from the front doors. hiromi’s back was facing you, allowing for a perfect silhouette of a man gone mad, with a barrel of a gun kissing his head. but at the sound of your voice – oh, he could go on about how much he loved your voice – the gun was dropped, and he slowly turned around.

stunts like that weren’t out of the ordinary for hiromi since the two of you had split. not divorced yet, just separated – at least, that’s what he told everyone. in reality, the date to finalize the split was creeping up. the closer it got, the more manic hiromi had turned, going from soaking in his bathtub with his suit on, to buying a gun, to now threatening to use that gun on himself in the place you first met. it seems like a wild pipeline, but really, there’s too many incidents to be listed here.

there were a lot of things that made hiromi higuruma go crazy, and unfortunately, you were one of them.

bystanders in the coffee shop looked at you as if you were the insane one, as you walked over to hiromi and snatched him out of the building, muttering a very bitter apology to everyone in there. as you touched your ex-husband’s arm, the gun consequently fell to the floor, causing the clip to fall out with a clatter.

there were no bullets inside.

yet the police had showed up minutes later, after you and hiromi were far down the sidewalk.

hiromi walked with a slump, hands hidden in the pockets of his blazer, unprepared for the winter weather that was only growing colder. you stepped alongside him, voice muffled by the thick scarf of your favorite color as you berated him. weirdly enough, you had kept your job at hiromi’s firm, even after the initiation for divorce. you had a good standing in it, and hiromi loved you too much to fire you, even if you did want to escape him. maybe one day, you’d be able to move cities, but then, you felt as if you didn’t have many places to go.

the thing is, you always were hiromi’s saving grace. it wasn’t healthy for either of you. he was too attached, using you as his lifeline, always needing your attention rather than the attention of anyone else. you told him countless times to move on, and he still continued to show out, and force you to be his superwoman and come save him.

you still loved him, but he drained you, so, so badly. that’s why you filed for divorce in the first place. however, it always felt like…you’d never be able to fully get away from him. hiromi acted as a lost puppy, briefly following it’s mother whenever it found her.

the city you and hiromi stayed in – separately, by the way; you had an apartment on the opposite side of town from him – was big. you had moved there with him after college when he proposed to you a few days after graduation. you found the city to be enjoyable, there was never a quiet moment in the streets of the most populated portions. boredom was never a problem.

hiromi, however, easily found the city overwhelming. especially when he was by himself. without you.

big lights, unfamiliar faces on billboards, whispering voices. car horns were blared, and breaks squealed every other second. sounds, so many sounds, and visuals. it was all too much for hiromi. all too much.

too much.

too. much.

maybe it was you, or the liquor. possibly it was the case he had lost earlier that day, or the phone call he received from an unhappy client, or the front office clerk that threw her badge at him and quit. either way, hiromi was in the middle of the street, drunkenly walking in front of and in between the traffic-jammed cars, flipping random people off who yelled at him. a true, rebellious, and vulgar, display of how much he had gotten away from himself.

he no longer cared about anything else in the world in that moment.

nothing. not himself, or you.

at least, until he saw your frame storming towards him. like a switch in his mind, the instant he saw you, he remembered what life was about. with your pretty heels and pretty dress, a few of your friends he had met before – and that were in your wedding – trailed out of the bar, watching as you forcefully dragged him back to the sidewalk.

“what the hell is your problem, hiromi? what the fuck? you always do this when—are you drunk?” you shot questions left and right at him, and all hiromi could do was look at you with his stupid huge eyes.

he loved you.

on the ride back to his place, and when you told him to calm the fuck down, all he was able to think about was how much he loved you. even if you hated his guts or found him to be nothing but a pest. you truthfully didn’t feel that way, though.

you often pondered about whether you should force hiromi to get help. taking into consideration everything that was on his plate every day, he needed something to make him snap out of it. hiromi was no longer the man you fell in love with. he wasn’t the same hiromi who got flowers, or took you out on dates, or wrote you notes about his love.

hiromi had turned into nothing more than an unrecognizable maniac.

unrecognizable. that would be the only adjective to describe your ex-husband when you opened your apartment door and let him inside. he had kept an indescribable expression constantly for the past months, one of which had immediately faded upon being let into your space. you noticed how he had gotten a haircut, swooped it back into its normally kempt style, and his face was freshly shaved. he had cleaned up nicely at your call.

only a few minutes into the painful conversation you planned, the both of you were crying your eyes out, spewing to one another about concerns and how hiromi felt, the complexity of his emotions and why he acted so strangely.

“i-i just…want you to get better, hiromi. you aren’t…you anymore,” you cried, honesty the only thing leaving your lips. you tightly held onto hiromi’s hand, nearly cutting off the circulation to his thin fingers.

and again, the switch in his brain flipped. a look in his eye appeared, or more like the pain and suffering he had held on to finally disappeared from his gaze, leaving nothing but the pure eyes of the hiromi higuruma you had fallen in love with. he raised his free hand to your cheek, cupping it ever-so-slightly and ran his thumb over the warm, tear-stained flesh.

“i’m okay, my love, i’m here.”

said through teary eyes, hiromi tried his best to comfort you. he wasn’t sure what was up with him, or if he would ever get better any time soon, but all that mattered to him in those moments was you. he pet your hair when you fell over to hug him, crying into his chest at the possibly false assurance. while you cried into him, hiromi looked around your apartment, relishing in the ability to see how you lived again.

against your better judgement, one thing ended up leading to another, as if both of you had been waiting for this opportunity ever since you filed for divorce.

hiromi had his hands on your waist, helping to bounce you up and down slowly and sensually, burying his length into you ‘til you hit the hilt. intimate, passionate, it all felt comparable to your wedding night. one of your hands rested atop his own, swiping over the gold wedding band he still sported.

you looked so beautiful, only wearing an old t-shirt, biting your bottom lip as he always made you do. the thought of a condom or even pulling out was long gone, he was going to stay inside of you until he felt fixed. who knew the solution to all his problems was sex?

moving you just a bit faster, hiromi quickened the pace, bucking his hips up into you to meet your walls sliding back down around his cock. he filled you up so nicely, soft tip of his hitting that sweet spot you couldn’t get anyone else to. your legs burned and shivered, overcome with the feeling of being stretched out so well, so familiar again.

“’hiro, mm-, please,” you absentmindedly begged, asking for something you didn’t know.

“please what, pretty?” hiromi’s voice was as monotone as ever, perfectly controlled although he felt himself getting closer and closer to the line of bursting inside of you.

you slumped your body over hiromi’s, crashing into his chest again, legs going halfway limp as you used all your strength to try to move on your ex-husband’s raging hard cock. hiromi took this opportunity – a familiar one of his past – and snaked his hands to under your thighs that were spread on either side of him. he held you up at a perfect height, and began hammering into you from below, planting his feet in the ground.

your little ouuu’s and whimpers swirled into his ears, making hiromi feel proud as ever, and beckoning him closer to the edge. you didn’t care what happened after that point, you just never wanted the feeling of your ex-husband pounding into you to end.

each grueling stretch felt heavenly, forcing you open in just the right way, faster, faster and faster. even as much of a romantic as the both of you were, hiromi enjoyed setting a brutal pace much more than being slow. every fast, deep stroke your ‘hiro gave you, was felt with intensity you hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. even as your body went limp against him for good, he kept you help up with whatever strength he could find.

“feels so good, ‘hiro—gonna cum,” you whined, cutely pecking his neck after. he found your little weak kisses so endearing, it was a small detail he looked forward to every time the two of you made love. the pace never faltered, hiromi kept pounding up into you, forcing the bubbles in your lower abdomen to begin to pop.

“it’s okay, pretty, cum for me,” he muttered, always a little embarrassed about dirty talking with you. but nevertheless, his words made you topple over the edge, gushing all around hiromi’s length. he fucked straight through your orgasm, still never slowing down, making you grasp reality at the feeling of being overstimulated.

immediately, you began to whine again, “too much, ‘hiro, ah—uugh.” pitiful tears rolled over your lower eyelids, staining your cheeks for the second time that night. those tears were fully pleasure-written, though.

“gonna cum, my wife,” hiromi grumbled, the last two words leaving his mouth as little less than a whisper. little mind was paid to the fact he had no intention of pulling out, the realization coming to you when you felt ropes of your ex-husband’s cum shoot straight into you.

hiromi relaxed after a few more thrusts, dropping your motionless body back onto him fully. you stayed gripped to him for a few moments, contemplating about the moments before when lust had taken over – but really, you figured it wouldn’t be so bad if all this would become a little accident.

he was – was – your husband, after all.

after a few long minutes, hiromi picked you up, just as he always did, and carried you to your bed. he carefully laid down with you, soaking in the feeling of being warm under the blankets with his wife. he watched your frame as you fell asleep, cuddled into his toned frame, his arm securely around you.

he failed to fall asleep for a while.

and when you rolled over away from him in your sleep, getting comfy in a different position, away from him – he felt off again. hiromi hated that feeling. it was uncomfortable, and just…odd.

hiromi higuruma couldn’t help it that night when he snuck out of your bed, and out of your apartment, to go back home. he left you.

he figured he would wake up later and feel guilty about it, and frantically beg you to accept him again. but then, once more, nothing mattered to hiromi.

he did think about how you’d be when you woke up. will you try to talk to him? will you cut him off for leaving like that? will you act as if it never happened? he saw you as a strong woman, it’d be easy for you to let go of him in an instant, right?

hiromi was probably wrong, but he still ended up by himself at the end of the night. he shivered alone in his bed, dressed in all the clothes he had on earlier that night, thinking. he always thought too much.

[asliceofzosan]

i've seen figure skater sanji and hockey player zoro before. idk if its been explored but i'd love to put it out there:

hockey player sanji (specifically goalie bc he desperately wants to avoid being checked) and then pairs skater zoro.

pairs skater zoro's long time partner has been nami. though many people ship them together a Lot, they just know each other super well. Well enough to try dating and both of them realized they don't swing that way. in fact, it makes them a really good team. they fought long and hard to claim top spots in competitions because they portray a chemistry that's separate from the rest. plus zoro can carry nami like she weighs fucking nothing. so their lifts are so much more dynamic. they even have a whole next to impossible combination that they're trying to get the ISU to name after them officially.

sanji plays for the East Blue Straw Hats in the Grand Line Hockey League – a formidable rookie group that took down lots of big names in the preseason. they want to make it all the way to the postseason playoff finals but always seem to fall short. but theyre so determined. they reignited a lot of old sparks that were no longer there for old fans and brought in new and curious fans. sanji is the starter goalie and a damn good one at that. it makes sense bc goalies are often doing splits on the ice just to make a save. he's perfected the technique that utilizes just his legs to make saves that make the crowd go fuckin insane.

we have the usual "i booked the rink to practice before you did" trope but a little more spice. in actuality, sanji loves watching pairs skating competitions. his favorite pair rn is franky and robin (mostly for robin). and he adamantly does not want to admit to anyone that he watches zoro and nami's routines much more frequently. (and if anyone asks, he always says its bc of nami. its never just bc of nami.) and zoro's besties with luffy so he always watches their matches even if he barely understands the rules. and he definitely does not stare at a certain blond starter goalie most of the match thats fucking ridiculous

one day zoro and sanji are invited to do one of those comparison videos between hockey players and figure skaters. both get to laugh at the other even Attempting to do their sport. zoro frankly looks ridiculous in all of sanji's usual goalie get-up. and sanji couldn't land an euler to save his life. the video producer suggests they try a simple pairs skating routine. sanji is like "oh i couldn't do that–hEY WHAT THE FUCK MOSSHEAD PUT ME DOWN" because zoro lifted sanji and had him sat on his shoulder like it was normal.

zoro smirks, "you might be lighter than nami, actually. wanna be my new partner?"

sanji knees him in the stomach before skating away while blushing so hard he could melt the ice beneath him.