#matter to me at all but i don't think it's to the point that it warrants like dislike and targeting lol like i still do my fucking job just

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: break-up, angst, hung-up yandere, anger issues, insecurity, threats to regrets

♡ GN reader

Thinking about pro-athlete ex-boyfriend… 

You know, the one you broke up with because he couldn't focus on anything but his career, the one you just couldn’t stand by and watch any longer as he nearly ran his health into the ground—not to mention your relationship—all to reach his goals.

He’d been so mean—meaner than you ever thought possible when you told him you couldn’t do this anymore—said it was a real class act of you to abandon him now when it mattered most. He’d made it about you not wanting a no-known sportsman for a boyfriend, how you never believed in him anyway, how you never cheered for him, how he thinks you don’t even want to see him succeed. 

He’d been so loud and so ugly you’d been in shock for weeks afterward, unable to wrap your head around it. You didn’t even dare tell anyone—feeling it was a beast of burden you ought to keep for yourself. Oddly enough, you felt that if anyone knew or saw him like that, it would be not just detrimental to him and his image but embarrassing for you both.

And you hadn't spoken to him since. At least not face-to-face. He’d sent you a few drunk texts then and there, which you’d replied to in short, though mostly ignored. You’d thought about blocking him at one point, but you didn’t want to be dramatic, either. And suppose, in some way, you were still waiting for an apology.

But months passed, and nothing like it ever came, and so, instead of being bitter, you accepted that was just how the two of you ended. And that was that. 

Still, it's a little awkward. You wonder if you should congratulate him on his rise in popularity, how he’s finally getting all those long hours spent training back in full—but somehow, you feel it would just sound petty coming from you. And so, you don’t bother.

He’s got other people in his life cheering him on now—he doesn’t need a measly text from his ex. No, it's better to leave it be, is what you think.

Which is why it’s surprising when you get the dinner invitation. 

And following the initial surprise, you don’t really know what to expect of it either. But you end up accepting—some part out of curiosity, wondering what he might want after all this time, and another part hopeful it was to finally address the awful break up so that the both of you could move on without it hanging heavy over your heads and hearts.

This, however, was the last thing you had in mind when sitting down with him for the first time in a long time.

“Will you marry me?”

Your whole body flares up with something reminiscent of the feeling when you trip and fall—that type of split burn that rushes through you from head to toe and then leaves you feeling cold all over. Heart in your throat, you’re speechless.

Or no, you just don’t know where to begin.

“What are you doing?” you end up accusing—a little too harshly, maybe, but who could blame you? Looking around, you’re glad your table’s in a more private sector of the restaurant before you look back at him, eyes wide and brows knit. 

“I–we broke up a year ago and haven’t seen each other since—and you’re—” Your eyes fall back to the thing in his hands. It’s an outrageous ring. “Asking me to marry you?”

He makes no move to withdraw the offer—keeping his hands where they are, on your side of the table. “You said yes to the dinner. That must mean something. I thought—”

“Yeah. It means that I still worry about you,” you say. “It doesn't mean–”

“I fought my way up. I’m finally at the top,” he cuts you off in earnest. “I’m the best, and the world finally knows it now–”

“I don't care about any of that,” you state, feeling it should have been something you told him from the very beginning. “I'm sorry. But I never cared about you being the best. I just wanted…”

You just wanted the two of you to be like other couples—together and happy. You just wanted that to be enough, but it never was for him.

“Never mind…” you end up saying. “I think I should go.”

You’re about to get up when his hand, suddenly around your wrist, tightens in a harsh grip.

“I don't think you understand,” he utters, voice lowered with a hint of a growl. “It’s either this ring or I bury you in rumors that won’t leave you a moment’s worth of peace.” 

You go stiff while looking back at him.

Did he just… did he just threaten you?

You blink. He's got that same warped expression you remember from the last time you saw him, that very odd look as if the guy you know has been switched out with someone entirely different.

Only this time, it just as quickly disappears, and he lets go of your wrist, quickly pulling his hand to himself.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that–I’m just—” he apologizes with a stutter, looking startled.

He puts his face in his hands. Then there's a sound—close to a sob.

“I’m just a mess without you.”

Goosebumps rise on the surface of your skin when hearing it. And swallowing thickly, you sit back down again, albeit a bit begrudgingly. But spotting how he trembles, you just can’t stop feeling sorry for him.

You sigh. “No, you’re not. You just…” Reaching across the table, you stroke his arm. “You just lose your head a little sometimes, that’s all.” 

He peaks up from his hands. A sheen under his eyes reflects the ceiling light, and your heart twists in your chest.

He really is a mess.

“But I know you…” you try smiling. “You were always destined for greatness.”

He takes your offered hand in his, stroking it, then sniffs, voice fluttering weakly, “Yeah, well…”

He keeps his head low, resting it in his other hand as if he just couldn't muster the strength to sit straight or even attempt to pull himself together.

“If I'm such a great guy, why wouldn’t you stay?”

He sounds as if he’s been holding things back for the entirety of the year since you left. Broken now... it's all spilling out.

“Because," you start, even though your throat’s tight and you’re fighting back tears of your own, your mind hasn’t changed.

You didn’t come here to get back together. 

"You want to go places, I just can’t follow.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks, Enji ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya ♡ HQ – Kageyama, Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins ♡ CSM – Aki ♡ BLLK – Reo, Isagi, Rin, Sae, Yukimiya, Karasu, Shido ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi ♡ WB – Sakura, Suo, Kaji

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[wizard-of-interesting-failure]

No you know what I'm gonna take a second here. [Highly unhinged rant at the fundamental injustice, inefficiency, and sheer bloody-minded stupidity of current social technology below the cut]

Absolute horse piss. God, even setting aside how she deserved better from everyone around her and had the same right to a fully accepted authentic life as everyone else, imagine what she could have done if she was supported instead of being treated like this. If she wasn't fired from her job, ejected from her support network, and didn't have to constantly advocate for herself and people like her to be treated like human beings (which was brave and good work worthy of being honored but should never have been necessary in the first place, like rescuing people from a building that collapsed because it was built like shit)

Like okay I don't talk about this that often but I'm a kidney transplant recipient and I think a lot about how the field (like every other avenue of human endeavour) has been crippled by short-sighted bigotry. STEM fields are still hugely male-dominated (sidebar STEM is not the be all and end all creatives y'all super valid and important and your work is foundational to the functioning of STEM and human endeavour and quality of life as a whole; this is just the example that highlights the point for me personally) and it's like. If we didn't push literally everyone except cishet white guys well off enough to afford tertiary education away from everything in the area, would I just have an artificial kidney by now? Who knows?? I'm probably never fucking going to because stupid nonsense.

It's the same shit. And don't get me wrong, the individual human tragedy of unnecessary hardships on the part of this (and every) trans woman (and so many other groups besides) is morally horrible and an indictment of culture as a whole. But we'd probably have fucking blade runner robots or quantum computers or working fusion reactors or Actual Cool AI Instead Of The Current Horseshit by this point! Or a real Mars colony instead of some blowhard yammering on about it while he inflicts suffering on untold millions! Or God knows what else!

And don't even get me started on lack of opportunity for almost everybody in the world. It's like that quote about all the potential einsteins who were born and died impoverished without ever even touching a science textbook.

Like you wanna know why we're struggling so much? Population increase is supposed to mean more hands and minds on every problem but it doesn't because...ugh! Imagine if we cared about global poverty. Imagine how many more lives free of hunger. Imagine how many more people thinking about how to solve everything that needs solving.

I just. The morality is bad enough. It's a great evil by itself. But the sheer fucking gall of dressing it up behind progress and hard decisions. Do you have any idea how much "progress" this costs us? What a good investment humanity would be if we pulled our heads out of our asses for two seconds? What you, personally, have lost because the person who would have given it to you lived and died in preventable despair?

Again, I have to emphasise. People are worthy without contributing huge individual achievements to the arc of history. Society is a collective and everything everyone does adds to the weave and adds up to what we as a whole achieve, there's no real separating out of "this person did this thing" when they were supported by the entire collective of humanity past and present, and even if there was achievement is not the sole benchmark by which life is measured. A better life for everyone is the point, and the idea of "if I don't think you're contributing then you don't deserve anything" is a big part of how we got here in the first place.

There is no culling of the "unproductive". They are the ones who need this most of all. Every life matters, every life (yes, even that one) is a roll of the dice for a miracle of insight (not just in STEM; it all fucking matters and it always has), every life is its own purpose, every life is worthy, to save one life is to save all of mankind, to enrich one life is to enrich all of mankind, to be a life that is enriched is to be enriched on behalf of all of mankind, and none of these facts depend upon any others. There's a mind in there! A self-perceiving miracle of reality! Of course it's precious beyond measure regardless of context, you dipshit!

We can celebrate great advances and exceptional performances without ignoring that we, as a whole, made these things possible too. And we can recognise that these things are valuable because of what they do for everyone, and that the more everyone there is the more valuable they are, and that in order for making life better for the worse off to matter the worse off themselves must matter, and that every life is worthy and every soul is sacred and the people using Lynn's technology to help with their disabilities or live hidden from those who wish them harm or resist the forces I'm talking about here are why the technology is a force for good in the first place.

But I weep for the fact that we have squandered almost all human potential across all of history in short-sighted power-seeking and arbitrary outgroup punishments, and everyone everywhere has suffered for it. Yes, even the stupid billionaires; they'd probably live longer if they hadn't stepped on the people who would have discovered the cure for whatever ends up killing them. Today's average well-off human knows riches that would be the envy of the kings of old, and the average human if none of this was a problem would know riches that would be the envy of the oligarchs of today.

Lives being lived in ways that diminish other lives are ideally changed minimally so that they no longer do (this is the maximisation of collective freedom) and consigned to any other fate only with great sorrow. Even if it is right to do so, I do not believe it is ever righteous. Even if it is not regrettable that it was done in the present, it is regrettable that the past produced a present that required it, and a future that does better should ever be sought.

Just...fucking stupid. That we're so willing impoverish ourselves so that some other people we don't like for no reason can be impoverished more. That the only thing keeping us from Star Trek (not just the spaceships but everything else too) is petty fucking spite (and physics but who knows what backdoor bullshit we could find to work around that).

That Lynn Conway's life, extraordinary and laudable as it was, was made smaller by this rank fucking idiocy. I do not aim to diminish her work by considering what it could have been. I aim to diminish the age she was forced to live in.

Rest in peace, Lynn. You deserved unfathomably, infinitely fucking better, and we are all richer for what you managed to pull off in spite of it all.

[acid-ixx]

Lmao a&a reader sticking pics of all her milestones and events her family missed and unreplied texts all over the house (a father daughter day at school pic sticked twice on Bruce's door) out of anger and pettiness (srry abt the bad English I just had this idea suddenly)

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

oh my god anon, you are so brilliant because this will happen eventually. like as much as i want a hurt, constantly aching pain to happen to the reader, i also portrayed them to be still bitterly petty towards their family. that translates to shoving it in all their faces about just how much they - specifically bruce - lost so much years of bonding with them just because they chose to be ignorant enough.

just picture this: an entire manor, with hallways filled with printouts of all of dick's unreplied texts, picture frames upon picture frames stacked on every corner where it's just you and alfred against the world, leaning on to the old butler in every image, reminiscent of a father figure more than bruce could ever be.

there're also pages of ripped diary entries stuffed under the couches' mattresses. pages which documented all the years and moments where you write and rant about your bitterness towards the family— how 'dick never looks at me, jay won't even spare me a glance whenever i talk to him, i think tim genuinely doesn't think i exist, and maybe damian just wants me dead'.

and all those entries, despite causing you more burden of having to confront bruce in his office about your mental health, about how it's unhealthy to dwell in the past; it genuinely gives you a sense of control within your trapped cage— if you could even call it that.

yet the more you shove it in their face, the more they smother you with attention: trying to overcorrect.

then suddenly your petty plans turned into a ploy, an excuse for them to bond with you even more because of course! of course those bitter reminders are just you wanting their attention individually! of course, it's your stubborn call to them that they do have a chance of reconnecting with you!

just let them spare themselves the heartbreak and instead replace the hurt upon seeing you so adamant of denying them the love; turning it into a way to become closer to you— a genuine apology in their part if you will, despite your refusal to call it that.

whenever you mention how dick never looks at you eye-to-eye, suddenly, his eyes are all over you, like he's burning the memory of your entire form under his eyelids. every time you mention his dismissal towards your request of hanging out, suddenly, it's him inviting you to every small thing. hell, his attention became too much to the point he suggests that you just sleep in his bedroom because, "it's only right that we spend all the lost moments together, right baby bird? now, don't we have another movie we have to catch on? and don't worry, it's only gonna be just the two of us."

he says, with a saccharine sweetness to his voice, masking the overly possessive undertone in the last sentence, as if there never was those past years filled with yearning, as if it was never you who chased after him. the more your diary entries are read, the more dick takes note in every missed invitation he never entertained. it doesn't even matter if you've already watched the movie, you'll rewatch it, with him, and only with him. because in his eyes, your requests to spend time with him specifically means that all your future moments are exclusively spent with your eldest brother.

with just how much he takes your time every day, you almost feel like it's his attempts of filling that void thirteen years without him.

then there's jason, who once knew what your boundaries were. and although he respects it now, he couldn't deny just how heavenly it is to have his angel in his arms. and could you deny all those diary entries rambling about what it's like to be in your big brother's arms? those documentations of your feelings at its purest form just means to jason that you still want, no, yearn to be embraced by him. the second eldest never really initiates contact first unlike dick, but whenever he does, it's always with you. the first time he hugged you, in his lonesome apartment, he couldn't really bring himself to let go despite your complaints— so what could stop him now that they have you in their grasp?

"hey angel, don't you think it'd be nice if i read you 'little women' tonight?" jason asks you, because of that one day where you filled his vacant room with copies of all the books he recommended and promised to read with you - but never fulfilled doing so - it kind of backfired on you. and now you're wrapped around his muscled arms, beside him in his supposedly cozy, yet suffocating bed, his hair pricking the skin of your sweaty forehead, damp from the sheer heat - despite the air-conditioning - because he straight up refuses to give you space. if you just lean back a little more, then you could almost feel the tremor of his voice narrating the entire story, the warmth of his breath hitting against the nape of your neck.

for a book so lighthearted, all you could feel was the heaviness of your heart.

unlike dick and jason, you never once spent a moment with tim. that in itself is what made him motivated to learn all about you on a more personal level. in his eyes, (or rather, through his delusional reasonings), he reckoned that because he never once had any memories with you— your hatred towards him would be the least harrowing thing to deal with. he's always been a mystery to you, you've been a mystery to him, too. through your empty texts with him, entries spanning from not even knowing anything about him at all; he figured that now's the chance to take you away in the least expected moments, cauterize his words with promises for escape from other more smothering members of the family. unlike the others, since he's never once had personal moments with you, he knows your objective prefences, your boundaries and what makes you tick.

"ah, (name)... mind moving your hand to the left? yeah, that's way better." yet despite the fact that you have more freedom when you spend time with him, doesn't mean that he'll spare you the space of being alone when he's just like all the others still: obsessively taking note of every little movement, swooning in secret with a small quirk in your lips, kissing his teeth when he's exceptionally pleased the more your emotions are vividly displayed in front of him. except now that you willingly chose to be his model - you're unaware that he plasters the polaroid's all over his own version of a diary mirroring yours... - for just a moment of respite from the other's overbearing physical affection, it doesn't mean that tim isn't an obstacle himself; he just... knows you more than you know him, more than you know anybody else actually.

in fact, the longer his cryptic stare is pinned only on you, the more you notice how he never really takes his eyes off of you for more than a second.

"who says it's your turn to be with my sibling, todd?" your youngest brother, the one who you unwillingly spent the most time with. your tormentor, the one who you almost despised. damian hates it when you smother him with hints that you're closer to anybody else but him. he hates it when his older sibling generally spends more time with others. and although he's countlessly apologized to you, you never quite find it in your heart to fully grasp his sorry's. even if he offers you friendship bracelets, emerald green stones matching the shade of your favorite ones, whilst looking away with a puff in his cheeks— you just can't see him in a different light anymore; constantly reminding him of the threats he threw your way back them, shoving papers upon papers stained with salty tears and smudged ink; all piled with texts ranting about your endless pain because of him.

but just like dick, your youngest brother just sees it as your stubborn way of calling out his name. he may look like he bites, and yes he does bite, but not at you, never at you. at least, not anymore— but to everybody else who threatens his so-called precious bonding time with his older sibling. weirdly enough, despite his smaller frame, he's the most suffocating, the one whose hold on your body tightens just a bit more every time you move away from him. he's arguably the most possessive, the one who'll fight tooth and nail just because he wants you, his older sibling, to be his beloved muse for a portrait he imagined.

as much as he tormented you in the past, you can never deny how his life centered on you as much as it did now.

lastly, bruce, your father, a figure that was never there, just a silhouette to you. and even until now he still is. you can't comprehend his care, a type of fatherly love you never felt all those years ago. after all this time, you're more petty now than you were in the past; sticking picture frames of you and alfred spending memories where it's supposed to be you two, in hallways you know he frequents. it hurts him, it truly does pain him every time you look at him distantly. but he knows patience is the key, even though guilt devours him at every passing glance— he still loves you so. he should've shown his care early on, but what can he do now that it's too late?

"(name)," he calls your name all too fondly, accurately even — like he's practiced calling your name every night, afraid you'll be gone in his arms — and for a moment, you can almost hear him mouthing the endearing term 'dear' under his breath. as the world's greatest detective, the first thing he does is wanting to entertain the sick idea of reenacting the memories plastered all over those picture frames. just to make the regret lighter, to find a reason to be closer to you than he already makes himself out to be. don't mistake him, he's grateful that alfred was always there to aid you, but he's your father, first and foremost, and just because he missed those birthdays, that graduation, your prom and so much more— it doesn't mean there's no more room for him to still spend time with his beloved child, no? he'll find a valid, yet almost desperate excuse every time; to make a grander celebration. your missed birthdays will be replaced with countless vacations, your graduation picture smiling together with alfred nailed right at the front of his door will soon be a frame with you and the rest of the family. he'll find a way for you to never write those wretched entries about them anymore— he swears, with all his heart, you'll love him as much as he loves you.

and maybe, just maybe, you should've never presented your bare heart in front of them so willingly after all.

a/n: leave comments because why not lmao. idk half of what i wrote here but i'm back to answering asks and anon, i hope you like this because i used your ask to make a drabble 😁 this is the batfam after they become yanderes and how they enact upon their obsessions so ykyk. again, i forgot whatever i've written here.

[isaisliterallyhim]

heyyyy love your fics <333

can you do sugar daddy Kaiser who's always been rude and rough with reader but one day when he realises he's falling in love with them he's really gentle, asking how they feel and praising them? if possible can you do fluff along with nsfw???

ahh hii anon!! thank uu i appreciate ur words <33 anywayss i love the plot ohh gosh ygs r so creative omg

"And all I wanna do is stay with HER"

ft. michael kaiser . sugar daddy! kaiser . ooc! kaiser lol... . ness is in the story omg! . is ness ooc! too... . yes ness is ooc asw . character development.? . eventual smut . sex gulp... . piv ! . afab! reader . mistreated! reader ... . fluff asw . unreliable narrator

wc: 1.0k

"she's annoying." kaiser grumbled, taking a sip of wine. ness looked at him, "[name] cares about you that's why." the magician tried to lighten the mood. clearly, it didn't work.

"she just wants fucking money." he retorted. ness frowned, "can't you look at it in a positive way.? at least she's trying. take a look at all the others you've had."

that sentence had kaiser reflecting for a bit. "huh. i suppose you have a point for once, ness." the prodigy felt himself get a little flushed. "you're treating her so rough, how often does she even ask for money.?" ness continued. "don't be so harsh man! she's trying..."

the emperor tsked. "if she's so 'perfect' you take her then." he grumbled. jeez this guy is really helpless man... ness looked at kaiser disgusted for the first time.

"keep acting like that and she's bound to become who you think she really is." ness thought as he picked himself up and left kaiser to his thoughts.

later within the night, kaiser found himself scrolling through your photos after sending you some money (oh need that.) it hit him you were gorgeous. pretty face with a kind heart.. he was going to go insane.

the more he scrolled the more he admired your beauty. you radiated an aura that he just couldn't place his finger on. perfection was a word too vague to describe it.

shaking his head, he set his phone down. hands on his head, he was wondering. what the literal hell was he doing.? all he's ever done was treat you like shit because he had such horrendous experiences with others.

i mean, you were like the others. you were just there for the money... and attention i guess. but there was something more to it. he was just to blind to see it. (tf r ur glasses for mihya bro.)

it was late — hella late. 2:32 A.M.? there's no way you'd come over right? so what the heck were you doing at his door in a matter of moments?

kaiser opened his door, surprised. "you — you actually came?" he asked, somewhat in disbelief. "i'm right here aren't i, dumbass.. plus you called." you shrugged.

the satin on the bed somewhat wrinkled as the both of you sat down. "um, so why'd you want me to come ove-" you were quickly interrupted by an apology. "[name], liebling. i'm sorry. i'm sorry for my behaviour, how i treated you. scheiße, i'm so fuckin' sorry."

he held your visibly smaller and softer hands. his hands feeling quite the opposite. you were kinda a dumbass, "wha — michael huh...?" you shook your head giggling, "what are you apologizing for?"

his gorgeous blue eyes stared into yours. "don't act coy with me, [name]. you don't need to forgive me. i'll do whatever for your forgiveness. please. do you want more money? gifts.? flowers..? wha.. god. what do you want?!" kaiser asked desperately.

you looked at him with a deadpan expression. god, has this man ever been treated alright.? "mihya, i don't really want anything. yea i mean i love money i mean — who doesn't love money. but i'm not here solely because of money." you sighed.

"yes, you have money is definitely a positive trait but, you have more to it. money isn't the only thing that makes you lovable." you continued to ramble. his hands released yours. you were caught in his embrace.

"mihya.?" you whispered. kaiser knew how scary it was to love someone. the amount of devotion you must give. the time and effort. one wrong move? it could all crumble.

his embrace got tighter, you were tensing a little bit up. was he gonna beat you like what the heck is goin' on?! he knew you were always running away from love, 'cause your daddy never gave you enough :((

hey, same for him as well, no? "meine liebe." kaiser breathed, "let's try again together. i'm done with the 'you deserve better' bullshit. i have the choice to be better and i'm taking it."

he loosened his embrace on you, hands on your shoulders. you met his gaze. all it could scream was blue of desperation. not going to even lie, most dedication you've seen in your whole life.

you were still skeptical — hell, i can't blame you! you've been mistreated all the time by partners, getting taken advantage of... what change is this rich and attractive man going to do? he has the money, the women ugh... thinking about it made your head hurt.

"what do you say, liebling. let me show you.?" he leaned in, mumbling into your ear. hah! as if you'd believe what he said and give him a chance.

kaiser would be lying if he said he didn't regret making up with you earlier. he'd be lying if he said he didn't miss you. hell! every bit of fiber within him missed you! his lips on yours, oh gosh. he's going crazy. :c

a little while after what was supposed to be a sweet make out, he found himself aligning his tip to your slit. you had glossy eyes as you stared back up at him. he had you pinned onto the bed...

"are you sure?" he asked stroking your stomach, his hands then tracing your curves. "fuu-uck. you're perfect." he mumbled. you nodded in response.

as he buried his length into your warmth he swore he got sent to heaven. "sh-shit.. scheißescheißescheiße...! please you're made for me..." he continued, his lips once more pressed onto yours.

nah, at this point his cock was stretching your opening... it hurt. kaiser broke off the kiss as he groaned, "you take me so damn well.. i'm sorry for being so horrid to you."

you were practically crying, was it cause the sex was good? cause of kaiser? you didn't know! "m-hya.." you sobbed out so sweetly. it was kaiser's last straw.

your walls were sucking his member in man..! how could he not..? your noises could kill him oh gosh! one last thrust and his length was kissing your womb :c "i'm sorry meine liebe, i-" the emperor didn't even get to finish his sentence as he finished in you <3

he pulled out just to push his fingers back in. admiring your form and expression. maaaan, kaiser couldn't ask for a better girl >< dawn came, so did kaiser, 'cept he n you came multiple times :3 kaiser could make it better. all he needed was just one more day with ya.

— ©isaisliterallyhim, 2025

tags !! : @twijaxx ♡, @kyvkc

a/n: hey guys.. hey anon.. guess who's finally back heh... my writers block actually fried me so bad its diabolical man.. yes i lost motivation half way along w the plot tbf i had this in my drafts for 2 weeks or smth... i'm so sorry if this wasn't what y'all wanted ill cook for the future ones ;-; not proofread btw good GAWDDDD if kaiser was my sugar daddy man.. money and hes hot YES PLSS (no im nawt shallow but tuition fees are booty bro yall cant blame me.) yes this is all yap ALL MY NOTES ARE YAP OK </3 but um.. yay ilygs a lot mwa mwa <3

[archangeldyke-all]

Sevika is the pe teacher and reader is the English teacher and reader is sweet to all the students and everyone loves her but sevika is more on the strict side, doesn’t actually matter what’s the plot i just need teacher!sevika x teacher!reader😭🙏

HELL YES

men and minors dni

"jinx, the bell rang five minutes ago, kiddo. what class are you supposed to be in?" you ask as you walk into your classroom, blowing on your fresh cup of coffee.

this is your planning period, and you never mind having a student or two visit you, but you know jinx better than to assume she's here on her study-hall and not skipping class.

"please don't make me go, teach."

"dr. singed's chemistry class?" you guess. he's notorious for his harsh grading rubric.

jinx shakes her head. "no, no, i've got an a in chem." she huffs. "it's gym class."

you laugh. "you don't like gym? i've seen you run down the halls, you're quick as hell. figured you'd love that stuff."

"fuck no. sevika's a monster! she's making us climb ropes and do pushups-- i can barely carry my backpack to school, what makes her think i can do a fuckin' pullup!?" jinx laments.

you have to bite your cheek to keep from laughing. you gesture to the little corner of bean bags, blankets, and books in your class, then pull open your desk drawer. "you can stay. but if principal merdarda or sevika comes in here i'm tellin' her you told me it's your study hall."

"you'd rat me out?!" jinx cries. you grab one of the many bags of chips you store in your bottom drawer and toss it to her where she's getting cozy in the beanbag. she grins. "flamers, fuck yeah!"

"in exchange for my hospitality... you need to tell me why i saw your sister fighting with a cop at the gay bar last weekend." you request.

jinx gasps, her eyes lighting up in delight at a chance to gossip about vi-- a girl you taught a few years ago.

"you party at the hound?!" jinx asks with a giggle. you shrug.

"is that so shocking?"

"you're badass underneath that cardigan, huh, teach?" jinx teases. she stands from the corner and drags her beanbag across the classroom, situating herself in front of your desk and digging into her flamers. "okay, so, a year ago vi got arrested at a protest, right?" jinx starts.

you nod along in amusement at jinx's story, dividing your attention between her and the essays you're grading.

zaun high is small enough that you get to really know the kids that roam the halls for four years, and jinx comes from a big family with a gaggle of kids you've only ever adored. it's good to hear that her brothers are doing well, that vi's figuring herself out.

you blink up at jinx when she takes a pause between stories, snacking on her food. "so i hear you've made things official with ekko."

jinx turns bright red and she squeaks as she hides behind her braids. "shut up!"

"had to lock him down before he gets elected class president, huh?" you tease. jinx squawks.

"okay, well, what about a rumor i heard that you're dating another teacher here!" jinx accuses, pointing at you.

you giggle and shrug. "mmm... maybe... but you'll never guess which." you say.

jinx scoffs and rolls her eyes. "oh please, it's so obvious. you and profe ran are always giggling together." she says.

you laugh. ran, the spanish teacher, is a childhood friend of yours, but they're certainly not the person you're dating. "sure, it's ran."

jinx frowns and squints at you. "the new college councilor?" she guesses.

"ms. grayson?" you ask. jinx nods. you laugh again. "that's hilarious. isn't she married?"

jinx huffs. "well, i dunno! are you even dating anyone?"

the door slams open and you both jump, turning to look at sevika.

fuck. she looks good. you're pretty sure she's been wearing her shortest possible shorts just to tease you. she's been using the increasingly warm weather as her excuse.

"jinx! the fuck are you doing?" she glares at the teenager.

jinx jumps out of her beanbag and scrambles to collect her belongings. you giggle.

"put the beanbag back before you go."

"fuck." jinx mumbles, scrambling some more.

sevika turns her glare from her missing student to you, striding up to your desk. you bite your lip as you watch her thighs ripple with each step. "you're harboring fugitive students now?"

"she told me it was her study hall." you lie.

jinx groans. "you rat!"

sevika huffs and glares down at you. you shrug and blink up at her innocently. with a quick glance at jinx where she's stuffing her face with the rest of her chips over the garbage can, you hold up a folder to block your mouth and whisper up at your girlfriend. "my place tonight?"

sevika's glare melts for just a moment, and she gives you a half nod and a wink before tunring on her heel and smacking the chips out of jinx's hand. "c'mon, before i give you detention." she huffs, dragging jinx out of your class by her backpack.

"see you in third period, jinx!" you call. jinx giggles and waves to you. sevika flips you off over her shoulder.

taglist!!

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@chezze-its @lez-zuha @vikashoneybee @shanesevikasfuckdoll @imheadintothemountains

@nanajustnana-a @helaenabugmom

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

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[uncle-fruity]

I really want to underline some truth:

I am a better activist and a more energetic and enthusiastic participant in the issues I care about now that I've stopped believing the guilt trippers and have involved myself in activism on my own terms.

I get to decide what I do and do not care deeply about. That's not another person's place to tell me what I think and feel -- especially if it's a complete stranger. I know myself better than they know me.

I get to decide what is too much for me. I set my own boundaries and priorities. Other people might not agree with me, but they can die mad. I'm not their soldier to recruit, and what I do with my time and energy is my business, not theirs.

I know my body and my limitations better than anyone else. The people who truly love me and support me trust me to manage my ups and downs and do not assign a moral status to me when I take care of my needs first. Especially over time, they know that I will be back and ready to help out as soon as I'm able to. When I'm less able to participate, the people who love and support me take care of me and make sure I know they're there for me.

I am no longer doing activism in any real way online. At most, I try to provide some education and some emotional/mental health support. If you look at my Tumblr, you won't see even half of what I deeply care about. Part of that is a growing sense of internet safety, and another part of that is that there is very little I can do online that's going to make a difference. Another part of that is when you post stuff as a reaction or out of a sense of obligation, you're more likely to spread misinformation, especially if you don't take time to verify the information (which can be genuinely difficult if you don't know how to do that). I fell into that trap a fair amount when I was so guilt ridden that I was terrified to be seen as a Bad Person.

Which brings me to this major point: there will always be people who are quick to judge you and quick to make you out as a Bad Person no matter what you do. In someone's mind, you are probably already a Bad Person. Does that actually make you a Bad Person? Does someone else's definition of good and bad line up with yours, and does it matter? Have you considered that the person calling you a bad person might be a bad person by your standards? Who has the right to strictly define morality in the first place? Regardless of the answers to those questions, you don't have to let other people define you. And the guilt trippers are doing substantially more harm to the cause than people who are trying to rest for their emotional and mental health. I don't think that makes them bad people, but it does make them bad at community building, which is a fundamental necessity for activism.

My advice, if you really want to be a good activist, is to kill the part of your brain that tells you you aren't good enough and don't deserve rest until you are. No one can do it all. No one is a perfect activist or a perfect person. You need to have a clear idea of what your priorities are and what your capabilities are. You need to seek community and, as OP originally stated, joy. It's not just you who needs something to fight for or who needs breaks, your community needs it too. If you overwork and constantly retraumatize yourself, you will eventually hit burnout and you will not be able to help at all for much much longer than if you had just taken a break or made time for the good things in life when you first needed to. You also run the risk of creating a culture where no one else feels like they deserve rest and eventually burn themselves out, too. Then where does the movement go when all its activists are too stressed and tired and having a crisis of morality to do the work? The movement goes to die, is where. Sure, being angry is valid and important, but if that's all that's keeping you here, you're going to find that anger is not sustainable and will eventually give way to extreme depression when you realize that anger alone does not fix the many problems of the world. Your anger and guilt will kill a movement so much harder than indulging in a little positivity and rest from time to time.

Oh, and me? Now that I've gotten out of guilt trippy and frankly abusive online activist spaces, I am so much better at doing activism that matters. I organize a queer art group. I attend meetings to discuss problems and try to find solutions. I have more energy to educate myself and others. I can do more direct action. All of this is stuff that I literally had no space for while I was suffering from the burnout those online spaces caused that I now have space for because I decentralized social media in my life and especially in my activism.

Please. For your own sake and for the sake of the causes you care about: take a break. Have a rest. Do something fun. This is me telling you directly that the people guilt tripping you are being inappropriate & rude at best and literally abusive at worst. It is okay to forget them and live your life in ways that serve both yourself and others. They have no power to send you to Hell, I promise.

Sorry about the rant I'm just SO sick of this "we have to be on all the time never look away if you aren't upset about politics and traumatizing yourself watching people die on Twitter you're wrong and complicit and evil" like I know things are fucked and we need to stay angry but we can do that while also taking a minute to crack open a cold one with the boys or have gay sex or get tipsy at the line dance, we HAVE to have joy to remember why the fuck we're refusing to give up in the first place. Fight like hell for your loved ones and then also go home with them to smoke weed and drink sweet tea and make biscuits covered in honey and butter please, please don't deprive yourself of joy, you're allowed to be happy BEFORE the work is done. You're allowed to be happy.

[eiralunaire]

Here are some headcanons of Damian Wayne deeply in love with a curly brown-haired girl who is completely dense for romance.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

1. Damian Wayne and his unrequited (or just misunderstood?) love

- Damian is intense in everything, and love is no exception. His love for her is deep, serious, and with absolute devotion. He is not the type to be carried away by whims, but when he chooses someone, it is forever.

- From the first moment he met her, something about her intrigued him. Her curly hair that seemed to have a life of its own, her strong but at the same time absent-minded character, her way of seeing the world without giving importance to other people's glances.

- When he realized that he was in love, it was a hard blow. He did not want to accept that his heart was beating faster for her, that his thoughts revolved around their interactions, no matter how minimal they were.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

2. She's Dense and He's Frustrated

- Damian tries to seduce her in his own way: protecting her in combat, making sure she eats well, silently walking her home, staring at her intently... but nothing works because she just doesn't notice.

- He invites her to train with him, hoping she'll notice that he only offers that level of closeness to people he cares about. She sees it as just another training session.

- When he gives her gifts—subtle but thoughtful things like a rare book or a weapon with her name engraved on it—she simply thanks him without suspecting the meaning.

- If another person tries to flirt with her and she doesn't notice, Damian nearly explodes in frustration. "How can you be so oblivious?" he thinks every time he sees her interact with someone without picking up on the romantic intent.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

3. Damian Discovers Her Inexperience

- At some point, he realizes that he's never been in a relationship and has never experienced romance in any form. When he processes it, his arrogant side is flattered: I'll be her first in everything.

- This makes him even more possessive and protective. No one else has the right to teach him what love, desire or affection is.

- It also makes him more patient (albeit with effort). If she's never felt something like this, he can't expect her to understand it right away. So, he changes tactics: he starts getting closer, touching her subtly (a hand on her back, fixing a loose curl), looking at her in a way that even she starts to notice that something is wrong.

- But, inside, his mind is in chaos: How is it possible that someone so intelligent is so blind to this?

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

4. His First Kiss (Or How Damian Has to Take the Initiative)

- In a moment of frustration, when she still doesn't understand his intentions, Damian just does it. He kisses her.

- He does it with determination, with the purpose of making clear what he feels.

- As they pull away, he stares at her and, in his deep, serious tone, says, "Now tell me you don't understand."

- She's shocked. She'd never considered it because, well, she never thought someone like him would be interested in her like that.

- From there, she starts to see him in a different way. Her heart beats faster when he's around, his gazes feel more intense. And for the first time, she understands what Damian has been trying to tell her all along.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

5. Damian As A Partner (Because He'll Obviously Win Her Heart)

- Once he's in a relationship with her, he's still intense, but there's a change: he's more patient, softer, but just as protective and jealous.

- He's the kind of partner who watches her like she's his entire universe, who remembers every detail about her, who makes sure she never has any doubts about what she means to him.

- And every time she, with her absent-minded nature, still fails to grasp something obvious, he just sighs and thinks, "How did I ever fall in love with someone so blind..."

- But in the end, he doesn't care. Because she's his, and he'll never let her go.

[ttrpgcafe]

I got bitten by a stray cat recently, and unfortunately, animal control had to be called because it was at my place of work during business hours. The next day, I was talking to my co-workers about trying to get the cat adopted out by someone in the office or maybe adopting it as a "barn cat" and letting it back out into the neighborhood, and they were BAFFLED by my willingness to help an animal that had bitten me.

This is a microcosm of an at least weekly occurrence where I tell someone about a time I was nice to someone and they're like "wow, I could never" and it makes me think a lot about my time in retail. I was required to be nice to every customer, every time, no matter what they said to me, and that never really seemed difficult to me, even on the hard days. There's a common enough saying that "everyone should work retail and\or food service for at least 6 months at some point in their life" and while I don't think that's the silver bullet to everyone being kind all of a sudden, I think it would probably foster a lot more empathy in people.

The idea that "they don't deserve anything from you" or "you don't owe them anything" is, in my mind, patently false. Of course they deserve kindness from me. Of course I owe them the decency I would want them to treat me with. A world where we all hold grudges over every slight and never give anyone the benefit of the doubt is one I don't want to live in. Thankfully, I can wake up every morning and be the change I want to see in the world, to make sure that not everyone acts like that, and so can you.

Genuinely kind people don't get enough credit. People seem to think that being nice is just a personality trait, but it's actually a commitment to treat people well, even when it's hard. It's not just being nice to the people you like.

It's choosing to be kind to people when you're in a bad mood, or when they're being annoying.

It's choosing to be kind to people who your friends don't like.

It's choosing to be kind to people who you don't particularly like.

It's choosing to be kind to people who you envy.

I'm not saying that you can't be a kind person and stand up for yourself, or tell someone to fuck off when they're doing something genuinely harmful, but there are a million petty reasons people use to justify treating people badly.

It is a conscious choice, made over and over, often several times a day, to treat people with kindness and respect, even when they make it hard. So appreciate the consistently kind people in your life, because they work hard to be that way, and they really don't have to.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

PAIRING: popular!hockey player!anakin x nerd!reader

FLUFF ❦

You are going to kill him. Starting with his hands, then his stupidly-handsome face and this insufferable grin. The rest is just a matter of your anger and frustration. Why? Because ANAKIN SKYWALKER had been playing with you for weeks, claiming you as his new victim. Stealing your food, stealing your things, stealing your time, and probably - definitely - stealing kisses from you..

"You," you seethed, pointing an accusative finger at him, eyes narrowing at the thick novel he twirled lazily between his long-too-tempting fingers. "Give. It. Back."

Anakin's eyes snapped the moment he heard your voice, setting them right on your face. With that, he let his lips curl into this grin you found insufferable (let's highlight that) and hot. In all his cocky, utterly beautiful glory, he had the nerve to lean back in his chair, stretch his long legs out, before spreading them, and flipping through pages like he had all the time in the world.

"Mm," he hummed, pretending to skim a sentence. "Y’know, sunshine" he clicked his tongue "This is pretty interesting stuff. Who knew you were into—" he glanced at the cover, lips curling, "—grumpy historical philosophers?"

"You wouldn’t understand," you muttered, reaching for it— or just trying to, because he yanked it away at the last second, holding it just out of your reach.

Maker, you hated him. Despised him. (Did not, under any circumstances, thought about him at night, or in class, or in very specific daydreams that made your lower stomach do things.)

"Alright," he mused, tapping his chin. "I'll give them back… but only if you give me a kiss."

You blinked. "A what."

"A kiss," he repeated, completely unfazed, as if the request was normal..to him, of course. "Right here." He tapped his lips, smirking like he knew it would drive you crazy. "C’mon, sunshine, it's a fair trade."

Your face burned. Eyes deeply, shockingly gazed into his "Anakin, I swear to the Maker—"

"Ohhh, she’s threatening me now," he teased, blue eyes twinkling. He had the time of his life.. "What are you gonna do, huh? Report me?"

"Yes!"

"To who?" He laughed, tilting his head. "Mr. Kenobi? Because I just saw him leave for his lunch break. You could wait until he’s back, but…" He sighed dramatically, pressing his lips in fake-dissapointed, thin line "I don't think you have time, sweetheart."

You groaned, ready to throw the biggest tantrum right there in the hallway. Or throw the nearest chair at him, again, you weren't sure "You’re insufferable!"

"And yet, I think you still love me."

"No, I don’t."

"Liar."

You glared at him so hard, with such anger, hatred (not really), pure irritation at every cell in his body that decided to play with you, to tease you, to make your little comfortable world burn to the heels with madness. Yet, the problem was—Anakin wasn’t fazed at all. No, instead, his gaze softened, and his voice dropped into something more gentle, more reverent.

"You are so beautiful when you're mad, you know that?" he murmured, smirk fading into something softer, something fond, something that made your face burn as if it was on fire.

Because Anakin always did this. He always worshiped you, even in the most ridiculous moments, like he couldn't help but be absolutely, completely smitten by whatever you were doing. And it was weird, to be honest. After all, who were you, really? Just a nerdy girl with glasses, who spent most of her time reading books and playing games for kids...while, Anakin Skywalker, was the breathing perfection of this school. Talented hockey player, too handsome face, deep voice, A-student that didn't even learn (he had his ways)..every girl drooled on him, and yet, you were the one he chose..

"...Fine," you muttered, heat creeping up your neck.

"Fine what?"

"Fine I'll kiss you!" Anakin barely had time to process your angry response further before you grabbed his face and pressed the quickest, most barely-there kiss to his lips—just enough to make his breath hitch, to leave him stunned, to hopefully make him give your stuff back

When you finally pulled away, he blinked, looking shamelessly dazed. And that's to the God above, your book—once held hostage—was shoved back into your arms.

"...Damn," Anakin muttered, dreamingly gazing at your face "Should’ve asked for two."

You rolled your eyes, pushing past him. You did not want to be near Anakin Skywalker ever again...for today..at least for this hour.

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @babybell-cheese @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty @luluartpop @cloverina @nikiloveshayden

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Pt. 1

You couldn't help but anxiously fiddle with the hem of your dress as you sat beside Simon, one of his hands resting on your thigh, while the other gripped the steering wheel. "It's going to be fine, sweetheart. They're going to love you." Unsure, you glanced up at him, a frown on your pretty face. "Are you sure? Maybe they'll just see me as an inconvenience that will keep you from them in the future. Or maybe they'll-" Simon interrupted you as he tightly squeezed the fat of your thigh, a possessive growl leaving his throat. "They'd never. Trust me." With a sigh, you nodded. And he was right.

From the moment you two walked into the same dingy pub where you first met, the others treated you as if they'd known you for years, and you were a part of the friend group. The entire evening, you laughed and drank, Simon's hand constantly on you. At least until he left to go take a piss and smoke a cigarette.

The moment you were alone with the three men, the Scottish one leaned across the table, a gigantic grin on his face. "So? How did ya two meet?" The older one quickly pulled the Scottish one back, a scowl on his face, as he regarded his team member, but there was a certain hint of curiosity sparkling in his eyes.

You chuckled, thinking back to the day.

Excitement cursed through you as you stepped out of the cab, your phone in your hand as you watched your best friend type. But the moment she sent her message, the excitement dissipated. "I'm so sorry, but I can't make it! I'll make it up to you though!"

You rolled your eyes, glancing at the sign of the pub you were standing in front of. She couldn't have let you know before you made your way there, could she? Inside you, two demons started to fight. One yelling at you to go back home and gulp down an entire ice cream pint. The other one calmly stating that you were already here and should at least get a little bit wasted. Before you knew it, the calm demon had won and you walked into the pub, quickly finding a place at the bar. But you noticed him immediately. Sitting in a dark corner, his face almost completely hidden. And very obviously staring at you. It didn't matter when during the evening you turned around, his eyes were always on you. At first, it creeped you out, but before long, you felt warmth spread through you. You almost felt protected, his obvious attention keeping all the usual creepers at bay. So, you decided you at least wanted his number.

But when you paid for your tab, hoping to be able to join him at his table, you watched as he stood up and walked outside. As quickly as you could, without tripping over the air, you rushed after him, finding him outside, leaning against a wall. After taking a deep breath, you started to walk over to him, but he immediately pushed off the wall and started to walk away. Were you really this repulsing?

Before doubts could start to fill you, you called out to him. "Uhm, I'm sorry, Sir?" He stopped and slowly turned around to face you. With a small and hopeful smile, you crossed the distance. The closer you got to him, the more you could really see him. While the lower half of his face was hidden behind a black surgical mask, you could see the top of his cheeks. And they were red, practically glowing with heat. Adorable.

"I'm sorry, I hope this isn't too direct, but I wanted to ask if I could have your number? You're really handsome and seem like a nice man. Of course, it's okay if not, I don't want to pressure you or anything. I-" You stopped, your eyes wide as you watched his entire body trembling slightly. Like a robot, he slowly stretched out his hand to you. Your eyes focused on it and you watched for a few beats as the trembling only got worse. Then, you quickly pulled out your phone and handed it to him.

Once again moving like a robot, the man slowly plugged in his number, his hands trembling bad enough, that you thought he would drop your phone at some point. When he handed your phone back, you looked down and saw that he had also put in his name. But it was a mix of upper and lower cases, making you chuckle. You grinned up at him and pocketed your phone. “Thank you…well…have a good night.”

You turned around and walked a couple of steps before his shaking hand on your elbow stopped you. “U-Uh…uhm…eat? Uh now?” His voice was shaking even more than his hands and he kept stumbling over his words, but when he got the question out, you couldn’t help but nod with a smile.

“And yeah, that’s it.” The Scottish and the pretty one immediately burst into laughter, slapping their thighs and each other, while the older one just smirked, slowly shaking his head. You looked at them, confused. “What…?”

“What did I miss?” Simon slid into his chair beside you, his arms loosely wrapped around your shoulders. His friends immediately started to tease him, recounting points from what you had just told them. Immediately, the blush was back on his face, and you couldn’t help but chuckle along. At least until his hand came to rest on your thigh, and squeezed tightly. Oh, you were in for a night.

A/N: Here we go! Part two and the real story all wrapped up in one! Hope you like it! Edit: Re-upload because I forgot to add tags... :)

@skeletonsucker

[vivimura]

breaking up with riki ─ sfw, 0.935 k wc, i suck at angst but it was heavily requested this is the best i can vomit out i'm sorry

“you know what your problem is?" riki asked softly, but the furrow between his eyebrows was enough evidence of his irritation.

"your problem is you overthink everything." he spoke, his grip on your wrist tightening to the point it began to hurt. "you know what the future holds?" he asks, his voice gentle yet serious. "absolutely fucking nothing. all we got is the present, and right now, i like you. you like me."

you scoffed in disbelief, using every bit of strength in your fibres to bite your sobs back down. 

“oh, i overthink, do i? or, have you considered the fucking possibility that you don’t think enough, nishimura?” you spat out bitterly making the frown between his eyebrows deepen. the tears welled in your eyes made your vision grow blurry, but also frustrated you for reasons more than that. you hated that it made you look weak.

“life isn’t so simple. just because we like something, doesn’t mean that we can have it. it doesn’t work that way. we’re amazing together, but it’s just- so much work. i’m exhausted.”

"you think i don't fucking think?" he almost growls, his grip on your wrist finally loosening as if he realized he was holding it too tightly. "i think all the time. about you, about us, about how fucking hard this is. do you think it's easy for me?"

"it doesn't matter if you think or not, if you're not going to do something about it!" you yanked your hand away from his grip completely when you got the chance, a stray tear finally falling from your right eye. it disappeared when you used the back of your hand to harshly wipe it away.

"love shouldn't be something that makes me feel so drained and tired emotionally. this relationship,” you gestured to the air between your bodies, “just you-, it's so much fucking work!"

"that's work i'm willing to do-”

"-and i'm not!" you finally snapped and yelled. your eyes bulged when you took in the gravity of your own words.

silence lingered in the air for what felt like an eternity, but was just a few moments. there was a bead of sweat rolling down the side of your forehead, your heart beating so fast and loud that you could hear it in your ears. the look on riki’s face was indescribable.

his eyes widen momentarily, then narrow as he processes your words. his jaw clenches, a muscle twitching visibly. in a flash, he steps closer, his voice low and intense. "well, fuck me, you've finally said it out loud, haven't you?"

your hands formed tight fists, every raging thought bubbling in your mind suddenly disappeared for some reason. it felt like your knees would give out any second now, but you stayed there, as still and silent as a beautiful, teary-eyed doll.

he stared at your tears for an age, his face expressionless. his eyes flickered between your left and right orbs, as if trying to find some truth. some explanation. deep down, he knew he was fooling himself. he already knew.

he laughed bitterly at your silence and shook his head. "unbelievable. after all this time, all these fights, you're just... done? just like that?" he bites his lip harshly to hold back his own tears. he felt a strange emptiness in his chest, a feeling he hadn't felt before. "no more willing to put in the work."

not bothering to wait for your reply, he sighed heavily and turned away, his hand reaching up to run through his hair. "just-.. go home." his voice was flat, emotionless. it was an effort to keep his breathing steady.

you let out a shaky exhale and memorised his side profile as if you were seeing it for the last time. your eyes drooped down as your head bowed in utter sorrow, the soft gray carpet on the floor of riki’s bedroom came into your view.

it was the same carpet. one which you’d once talked on for hours straight, played games you loved, play-fighted, kissed each other and sometimes even more. it was beginning to feel like those things would be nothing but a memory anymore.

you wiped your tears away, turning around to pick up your purse from his bedside table with shaky steps. riki’s heart squeezed, but he just watched you from the corner of his peripheral vision. he watched your back, your shoulders slightly hunched as if you were bracing yourself for something.

when you turned around, riki almost broke down completely when he saw the look on your face. the quiver in your lips, the bags under your eyes. the spark he once saw in your eyes when he first met you now reduced to dullness and tears. he nearly opened his mouth to stop you, but his words died down. he knew he had to let you go.

you didn't dare to look into his eyes and walked to the door of his bedroom. your fingers trembled as you reached for the handle of the door. when you pulled it down and opened the door just a little, it felt so unreal that you couldn't tell if this was a dream.

the urge to turn around and say something, or just look at him was nearly eating you alive. but you didn’t trust yourself enough to run into his arms if you saw the state of him. you had to do this, for yourself. just as you were about to leave, you whispered a small, “b-bye,”

click, shut the door, and possibly the longest, most meaningful period in riki’s life.

mlist comment, reblog & follow!

[pupyuj]

hi ena! long time no ask!!

with the recent miumiu wonyoung photos GOSHH MY MIND IS SPINNINGGF WITH THOUGHTSS😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

dubcon!!

what if…princess jang who comes from a wealthy noble family purchases you to be her pretty slave😁 the thing is you weren’t even being sold as one despite your family leaning towards the poorer class😱turns out she randomly spotted you at a market and ordered her people to do anything and everything just to have you in the palm of her hands! crazy!!!!! one day you were just taken away from your family! GOSH imagine the princess wonyoung herself carrying you to her room and gently laying you down on her bed🥺but, being the brat that you are you scratched and clawed at her, trying to resist her advances bc u were so so scared and confused :(( eventually, the remaining patience she had for you snaps and she just fucks you hard to remind you of your place!!!! u were nothing but her stupid little slut to use whenever she wanted :(

(she starts off really gentle with you but fucks you rough and hard for being so rude and disobedient to he princess☹️)

omg yk that video of her sliding off her gloves to sign for a fan?? IMAGINE IF SHE DOES THAT BEFORE FINGERING YOU UNTIL URE IN TEARS BEGGING HER TO STOPPP UGHH😫😩😩

- 🍒

MY FAVORITE CHERRY ANON!! i know, i know this ask took me forever to do again but we're all probably used to it to it to the point where i don't even have to address it 😭 since the photos are now not-so-recent, i'll attach them here so everybody can visualize it well hehehe 🤭

(@ CHERRY ANON IK YOU'RE WONDERING IF I AM ALSO WORKING ON THAT OTHER WONY ASK THAT YOU SENT AND I'M GONNA BE HONEST I THINK I DELETED IT?? which sucks bcs i was JUST thinking of answering it too just now until i realized it was nowhere to be found so IF UR STILL UP FOR IT AND IF YOU REMEMBER THE GIST, FEEL FREE TO SEND IT AGAIN! pretty sure it was about sororities?? 🤔)

p.s. you guys are crazy if you think i'm not gonna give this ask some meat (aka mini lore) so if this happens to be a long one that's why! 😭😭

[cw: extreme dubcon, (eventually) cnc, coercion, bondage, mild violence, obsessive-possessive princess!wony WOOO.]

you were happy as a commoner, okay!? even though your fate was sealed as a middle-class man's stay-at-home wife and child bearer in the future, you were going to make the most of your life despite it all! but that was before you encountered her highness jang wonyoung while you were out to shop for new formal robes. oh, sorry, you didn't 'encounter' her—she saw you animatedly chatting with the nice young clerk at the apparel shop and became obsessed fell in love at first sight 😍😍

your whole life took a whole other turn when a couple knights knocked on your door and took you from your family by force and with only a brief answer when asked: "her highness wills it so." 🥲 your family was then visited by the princess' retainer to give them a more detailed explanation of the whole situation but you didn't know that. you didn't have to. what only mattered from then on was whatever the fuck wonyoung wanted with you... and it was everything you anticipated it to be! almost.

nobles were all the same, after all. and the worst among them was the royalty. you half expected to have been stripped down in the carriage by the knights and dragged throughout the castle naked and bare before they throw you inside the princess' quarters where she would be more than ready to just... ravage you, but that didn't turn out to be true. not all the way! you made it to the doors of the castle with your clothes still on you and you weren't just haphazardly thrown inside the princess' room... the knights were given special instructions to treat you like glass! or else the princess would have their heads if they so much as scratched your beautiful, delicate skin.

wonyoung herself met you at the doors of the great hall, actually! she couldn’t contain her excitement because finally, she found someone that she knew was going to satisfy all her needs and make the perfect wife! never mind that you were some lowly commoner, you were beyond perfect in the princess’ eyes!

“do you know me… (y/n)?” you don’t even want to know how she just knew your name. you were confused, terrified, and furious all at the same time and wonyoung loved it. anybody else would have been scrambling to kiss her feet and beg for forgiveness even though they knew they did nothing wrong… but of course you’d be different. wonyoung was so happy.

nevertheless, you plucked up whatever courage you had left in yourself and answered her question, “the crown princess… jang wonyoung.” even the way you said her name was impeccable! ah, how wonyoung couldn’t wait to make you hers completely… and that’s exactly what she attempts to do once she took you to her room but of course, you fought back! 🥺

kicking and hitting wonyoung whenever she tried to get close to you on the bed, even shrieking and screaming for help just in case there was a servant who felt sorry enough to interrupt but who in their right mind would dare get in the way of the princess? 🤨 it was when you scratched her chin that she finally had enough of your shit and straight-up whacked you across the face... her highness has never had to use violence to gain control and advantage but goodness you really pushed all the wrong buttons!!

somehow it wasn't the painful sting on your cheek that made you settle down... bcs if you weren't directly staring at the small, bleeding cuts you've made on wonyoung's chin, you would've made an even bigger fuss when she roughly undressed you! sure, you feared the consequences of literally hurting the princess wonyoung but... she was still a beautiful woman!! what you did was like the equivalent of defacing a famed painter's greatest work—you definitely deserve whatever punishment was waiting for you 🫢🫢

wony won’t take your resistance seriously once she’s seen how drenched you are for her! she only takes that as a sign that she was welcome.. and that you did, in fact, want this! 🤭 she assumed that you can take her at whatever pace she decides to go with bcs you were a commoner that was gorgeous and deliciously naïve… surely you’ve been passed around before right?? but no… you were a virgin :(( but you were taking wonyoung’s fingers so well… meeting her thrusts halfway as if you’ve always known how to do it like that… moaning “your highness” so nicely against her ear that it gave her goosebumps… so ofc wony ignores your tears and your pleas to stop when you’ve already cum many times 🫠

but ah you were really testing her!! wony was bound to get some bruises with the way you’ve kicked and hit her so much… so she ties your hands up above your head and your legs spread apart with either ankle tied down at the edge of the bed! this way it would be much, much easier to punish you 🤭 she’s definitely relentless when using her mouth… esp since she just got a taste of her new food and oh, were you delectable…!

wonyoung couldn’t get enough… using her tongue on you over and over again throughout the night whilst talking to you about how perfect your life was going to be now that you were with her… and she very much liked how you didn’t even fight her words anymore! she knew that even though you cried gallons of tears and made your voice hoarse from wailing and moaning you wouldn’t dare look back on your past life anymore! 🤭

since then your daily activities as the crown princess’ future consort was to look pretty, study in both academics and noble etiquette, and most importantly, tending to wonyoung’s… needs 🫠🫠 you knew that every servant, knight, and nobles that frequented the castle talked badly about you. how a peasant managed to captivate the princess’ heart with ease. their words cut through you pretty badly but wonyoung was always there every night to mend your wounds… always.

you didn’t even care that wonyoung fucked you too hard anymore! bcs she has somehow led you to believe that she was the only one in this world that loved you and can stand to love someone like you 🫣 and you only believed her bcs you did feel her love with every thrust of her fingers, every disgusting thing that she whispers in your ears while she fucked you, every flick of her tongue as she ate you out, every bite on your lips when she kisses you. you were only right to love her back in spite of everything else bcs… like wonyoung always assured, this is what true love is, right?? 🤭

[jilyandbambi]

Everything about how Coach Ben's Trial plays out just makes me feel so sad and devastated for all of them. I can't even hate them for what they did or are about to do. They're just kids, man.

Shauna is grieving and angry and postpartum and scared, and she's got nowhere to put any of that except onto Ben, the grown up--who didn't burn the cabin down but who did turn away from her when she needed him most. It's a powerful thing when you're that age and angry/sad/frustrated about everything (bc you're a kid) and to have a safe adult to be pissed at: an adult who cares but isn't perfect (no one is, and you're a kid so you're still learning to accept this), who let you down right at the exact moment you needed them to be the Grown Up with all the answers, and maybe their fuck up was only one of 254884113 things going wrong in your life at that point but you're 17--old enough to know that adults don't have all the answers and young enough that it still feels like they should, and when they don't, that's their fault too.

It's irrational, immature, and dangerous (Thy name is Shauna Shipman), which is what kids are, and what each of these kids are, to varying degrees; and why Shauna gets her way in the end.

It isn't their coach's fault that their plane crashed, that they starved for months, that they resorted to eating their team captain, that they let Javi drown so they could gut him and eat him, that Shauna's baby was stillborn, or that their cabin burned down. But they're kids and everything is awful and in between all the awful the adult in the room dropped the ball when they needed him, and now the trauma, and guilt, and shame, and pain, and rage has to go somewhere, and Coach Ben is a more tangible target than an invisible wilderness god. It doesn't matter that he clearly didn't set the fire and doesn't wish them any harm, the lie is too convenient.

If Coach Ben set the cabin on fire, Mari doesn't have to own up to the fact that she didn't tell the truth when she got back to camp, that she let the others continue thinking their coach was out there still hunting them.

If Coach Ben set the cabin on fire, there's no need for Travis to rock the boat and stand up for the only other person besides himself to be as disgusted and horrified at what the others did to his little brother.

If Coach Ben set the cabin on fire, Van (the only other person besides Shauna and Melissa to vote Guilty every time) doesn't have to worry about the others taking a second look at what her sleepwalking girlfriend could have been doing the night of.

If Coach Ben didn't set the cabin on fire, Tai might have to poke deeper at Van's insistence on his guilt despite all evidence to the contrary, and she might not like the answer. Add to that, if Coach Ben is innocent, then Nat was right to keep what she knew from the rest of them and Tai was wrong to collude with Shauna to her call her out in front of everyone, and maybe that makes Nat a better choice of leader than Tai would've been after all.

If the wilderness says Coach Ben set the cabin on fire, then maybe it's finally starting to speak to Lottie again, maybe she hasn't completely lost her connection to it after all.

And it's so, so fucked up because beneath all of them rallying behind this cruel, vengeful, childish decision to blame Coach Ben anyway is an understandable desire to have a say in all the uncertainty and turmoil that's taken over their lives by this point. That adolescent need for control--not just over your environment but your emotions, especially the negative ones--can make kids living in the best circumstances lash out. Here, with everything the Yellowjackets have been through and have already done, it was always going to have the worst possible outcome. And watching it all play out as an adult is just--ughhhhh. Heartbreaking.

Because that adolescent turmoil that makes you an angry freakshow who lashes out at the right people at the wrong times, or (more often than not) the wrong people at the wrong times--sometimes knowingly? That's normal. This is the time to be that way. You're supposed to have the space to get it all out and grow past it.

But the Yellowjackets don't and won't, and it'll ruin them, especially the ones that make it out alive.

Yeah, Shauna, taking your rage and grief out on Coach Ben feels good to you now; taking any action, even if it's clearly the wrong one, feels powerful and right in the moment, but it won't last. The rest of you lemmings letting her have her way for your own reasons feel justified for now, but that won't last either. By the time the full weight of what you've done hits you, it'll be too late. When the regret comes you won't know how to face it and you never will, and so you'll be stuck. You'll be 17 and haunted at 20 and 30 and 45, still getting in your own way and not realizing it until it's too late. You'll get older but you'll never grow up, and you'll never understand why.

[ohmotherwhereartthou-if]

Soooo, I have a small angsty ask if you’re up for it, how would RO’s react if mc flinched when they make a sudden movement while in an argument?

Ooh drama!

Cassandra: Wide eyed and freezes mid sentence, lowers her voice IMMEDIATELY and apologies. She feels awful because she knows that she gets scary when she is mad, she has learned to be after being surrounded by military men all her life. She never wants MC to think she would ever raise a hand to them in anger (...I mean unless MC cheated on her, then it is a 50/50 coin toss if she puts hands on them). Otherwise though, the fight would end right there and then. If the fight wasn't over anything major she would calm down and make sure MC is okay. If the fight was over something big then she would walk away to calm herself.

Valeria: She also jumps back with MC and quickly asks them genuinely what was wrong? She wouldn't get it herself, being raised in a loving home and having a sheltered life; but that doesn't mean she wouldn't me sympathetic. No matter how mad she might be, Valeria will always be the first to offer help to others. She would sit down and hold MC until they are okay, even if she can't really imagine why MC could ever fathomly think she would hit them.

Tomás: Just stab him in the heart why don't you? Throw him off the roof, shoot him in the head, and beat him with a metal club because all of that would honestly be kinder than ever making him realize MC could ever be afraid of him that way. Honest to God, this man would sooner CUT OFF his own hand than have you EVER think that he would do that to you. The look in his eyes in that moment? AGH, it hurts me to even imagine it! He would be so heartbroken and shocked. Whatever you guys were arguing about, (again, unless it was about cheating... if you ever cheat on Tomás (first of all, how dare you?) he wouldn't hit you but he wouldn't really feel the same about you being scared of him, as he is right now.) consider it forgotten. He will spend the next week apologizing and practically punishing himself for making you feel threatened.

-

Ludovica: Oh, she gets it. Believe me, she would get this better than anyone. Nobody else could possibly relate more than her, she would hardly ever be so mad at MC that she would yell but if MC ever thought she would do such a think for a moment would still her to a statue. Her eyes wouldn't judge though, no. Her eyes would be full of understanding of what pain and trauma results in such a reflex, she would calmly tell MC "Please believe me when I say this... I would never, ever, raise a hand to you; my love."

Aurelio: Bro stills to a halt and has to Sherlock Holmes style analyze what the actual fuck, just happened. Did you just think...? That he would ever, do that to you? He is honestly more hurt as a result of that reaction; that you would ever, for even a fraction of a second, think he is such a brute. Such a monster, to raise his hand to you. He struggles with being a good man, he really does; but to think you think so little of him in terms of morality? He might tear up just a tad, depending on how much he has opened up to MC about himself. Regardless if MC intended to do so or not, he would walk away and honestly be upset with MC for a good while about this.

Elio: Does not get it sadly, he quickly puts it together that you though he would hit you; but he doesn't get why. He will tell you just as much. "I was just gesturing, why did you flinch?" Absolutely will not drop this subject till you explain it to him, "Did you think I would hit you? Have I ever done so before? Then why did you think I would hit you now? I obviously would not. It was a reflex? A reflex is an involuntary response to a stimulus. I raised my hand and that make you flinch? That would suggest a logical stimuli, I have gestured to you before. I have pointed to things before, I have patted your head before, you never did this before. Why are you doing it now?" He is low key pressed over this, he hides it by trying to appear confused or curious but in reality he is upset because he does not understand. He NEEDS to know why you did that, so he can never do it again. If you get mad over the questions he will surprisingly get mad too, it is jarring because he almost never gets mad. He is upset by this new information and he must understand, you must help him understand.

[mayasaurusss]

What could have been.

Contains: angst, self hating.

A/N: this is a rewritten blurb of the lake scene in episode three. After I made a poll, asking what you guys would have liked the most, 70% voted for a fluff blurb, while 30% for an angst one; so I decided to do both! (as the amazing person that I am).

This is the angst version. I decided to not incorporate the sucessive scene that is in the show, the classroom and Jackie's one, simply because that would be me rewriting it as it has already been filmed, and that wouldn't be interesting. In this blurb, after the lake scene, Shauna immediatley wakes up: you can choose weteher to view this as before the classroom scene or as a stand alone.

You can find the poll I made here and the fluff version here. Enjoy!

She should have never come here. That's all Shauna can think as she passes out, the oxygen in the cave replaced by something foul that slowly chokes her to death.

It was her arrogance that ultimately doomed her. Why did she feel the need to lead herself and the others down to their doom, pushing through the narrow stone walls even when their bodies weren't capable of doing so?

What use did finding Scott even have? Was she hoping to let out her anger at him, to make him see her as she tore his jugular from his throath?

What was the point of all she has done up until now; to make herself the one who would kill them?

What pushed her to do this?

She had always been a mean thing, tearing and burning everything that surrounded her, only to feel its warmth. That horrible, disgusting part of hers was what led Jackie to her death, at the hands of the elements. There's no use to it: no matter how much others have said it to her, no matter how much she rocked herself to sleep at those words, she was the reason Jackie died. Not the cold, not the ancient god bullshit that everyone professed, no. It was her.

She didn't even stop them from killing you. Really, what kind of person is she? A monster. That's all Shauna Shipman ever was, and ever will be.

Darkness lives freely inside the cave, lulling her to a gentle, deadly sleep.

She awakes in the waters, rocked by the waves. She didn't remember how good the warmth of the sun on her skin felt like.

Maybe she could stay here, submerged in the water until the end of time.

But something wakes her up: a child, crying for her name.

Nothing in the universe could describe the leap her heart took when she hears his voice. Her baby, so grown and beautiful, waving at her from the shore. He is so big, and so, so small. How much has she longed to feel him in her arms?

Next to him there's you, as beautiful as the day she met you. You are kneeling on a rock, playing with her baby, moving on an imaginary lane a makeshift car toy you yourself carved for him, when he was still growing inside of Shauna.

And when you hear him calling for her, you wave as he does, smiling and calling for her. "Shauna!" and her heart aches at your voice: she had never thought she would hear it again. "Shauna!" you call again, your voice and his smile attracting her to the shore like a siren's song.

This is all she has been dreaming of these past months. You and her, she and him, together, in the warm weather. Happiness, just a taste of it.

She waves back, her body barely afloat to allow her to do so. You are back; you and him are back, and you will live a life full of love, and you will be so happy together. She swims and swims for what feels like miles, for minutes, hours, and she's sure that she must be next to the shore now. But when Shauna looks up again, she hasn't moved from her spot in the lake.

There's something wrong.

Her legs are chained to the bed of the lake and moving is impossible. She wants to scream "Help me!" but nothing comes out, her lips stay glued to her teeth. Her eyes search for yours, but what she finds is unawareness. You don't even make an effort to move and save her. Why should you, anyways? She didn't save you. But you still love her, don't you?

He continues to wave, mechanically, and your face doesn't look quite right.

In a fraction of a second, Shauna is dragged to the bottom of the lake by something larger than her. She tries to break free, in vain: how could her body fight It anyway?

No, no, she has to go back. He's waiting for her, you are waiting for her.

Help! Please...

When she wakes up, her eyes meet the humid stone ceiling of the cave, darkened by time. The air is so little that she can only breathe a sliver of it, stealing it from her teammates.

So she's back. She would have rather stayed in that dream forever. She would have rather died.

Jackie is still dead, her bones buried in the earth. Javi is still dead, the taste of his blood still fresh on her tongue. Her baby, a victim of fate, and you, a victim of a hunger no human should experience.

They died for nothing. They died for the cruel winter, for the darkest hunger.But unlike them, today Shauna lives. Today, when she'll feel the fresh night air on her face and in her lungs, she will experience the warmth that spring brought.

But what use does spring have, if she feels so cold?

[entities-of-posts]

When I was little, I was terrified of space. Which was funny, because one of my favorite books was a constellations activity book. I think I just liked it for the Greek myths tied to the constellations. I still have it, I think, up in my room. It's the kind of thing you just don't have the heart to get rid of. But that's besides the point.

One time, in elementary school, we took a field trip to the little observatory in the high school. No telescope or anything, but it had one of those fancy, expensive, spherical projectors and a domed ceiling. I remember the red lighting around the rim of the ceiling, so that we could see our worksheets but it was still dark. Something about red light not really registering as bright light, and helping your eyes adjust to darkness? I dunno. Again, I'm getting off topic.

I don't really remember what the presentation was about, what the person said. I remember the wobbly seat that leaned back so you didn't strain your neck looking up. I remember the stars across the ceiling. I remember the person fast-forwarding the projection through the whole year, watching the constellations and planets move.

I felt so small. I was terrified. The universe is huge, and I'm just one little kid on one little planet. Would anything I do ever matter? Would anyone remember me? I was so scared, I felt sick to my stomach. I left the observatory feeling hollow.

And one time, my parents were watching Cosmos: A Spacetime Odyssey. Neil deGrasse Tyson was talking about the life cycle of stars, and how, in 5 billion years, the sun will run out of hydrogen, and for 3 billion years it will swell, swallowing Mercury, Venus, and Earth. I tried to tune it out, but I couldn't stop thinking about it. Why did it matter to me? I'd be gone by then. I shouldn't care what happens in billions of years. but the idea of the sun devouring its children, burning them up in its hunger and desperation…

There are little things, too. I'm afraid of heights, but only if they’re not contained. I have really strong call to the void - the urge to throw yourself off the edge. My school auditorium has a balcony, and when I was touring the campus for some class, the instinct was so strong I had to stand as far away from the railing as possible, and I still got dizzy. My knees were weak, I was shaking, the world was spinning. No one noticed.

Ironically, my most pleasant dreams are ones where I’m flying. The wind in my hair, the breathlessness. Tucking my wings in to dive, or fall, so fast I think I’ll hit the ground, and opening them at the last moment to skim just above the Earth, then soaring up into the clouds again…

But as far as space goes? I lived with that fear for years and years. But one day, maybe when I was 18 or something, I don’t remember, something just… changed. I was in a depressive episode, I think, and it was like 10pm. I was the only one awake in my house. Talking online wasn’t enough, I needed to get out of my head. So I just… went outside. There were no clouds. There was light pollution, sure, but I could see Orion’s belt, at least.

And just… Just sitting there, looking at the inky black of the sky, hearing the nightbirds and cicadas and crickets and distant traffic, I just… I don’t know. I finally felt like I was a part of it all. A small part, maybe, but an important part. A tapestry is nothing without all the little individual threads, and I was one of those threads. I could finally see that. And I could see the butterfly effect of my actions, my kindness, just my presence. Rippling out from me, to those I loved, to whomever they love, to people I’ve never met, people in other countries. I could see it all.

And I heard the universe sing. Every cell in my body, every atom under my feet and circling through my lungs, every star lightyears away. It was all singing, and I could finally hear it. And it was all just for me, just in that moment.

“You are part of me,” it said. “You will always be. Don’t forget that.”

And I, uh. I haven’t.

The Vast, perhaps more than any other Fear, weaves wonder and dread together beautifully. It’s just awe-striking, for better and worse.