#nobody ever bringing it up again or it just not being a thing anymore

[kinardsevan]

maybe, someday, love

oh look. i came up with a mini idea and decided to write it instead of sleeping. enjoy!

“Hey, Tommy.” 

The room smells of antiseptic and bleach, with an undertone of metal and plastic. It brings up memories of a life before, one no longer lived, left in the past, and is just the slightest bit triggering. But that doesn’t matter right now. 

Maddie curls her fingers around the man’s much larger, bandaged hand as she sniffles. Her hand isn’t even big enough to envelop all of his, but that doesn’t matter in the moment. 

“I know we didn’t talk much before the break-up,” she states, staring down at his fingers. The dried blood around his cuticles, where it was too tight in the crevices to completely wipe away stares back at her like a bloodstain on a white sheet. Her heart clenches, and she reminds herself that she needs to remain calm for the baby inside of her. 

“A-and I’d really like to change that, given the option,” she continues. The rhythmic drone of the ECG and the ventilator keep pace with each other while she tries to tune them out. She chews on the inside of her bottom lip, all too aware of the way the tissue between her teeth has become tough from repeatedly running it between her teeth in the past few days. She inhales a shaky breath as she runs her thumb over his fingers, turns his hand over and stares down at where there coud inevitably be a wedding ring at some point. 

“He doesn’t really let people call him Evan,” she says softly as she continues to stare down at his hand. “I think when were growing up, he didn’t really hear it in a loving way a whole lot of the time, and after I left for Boston…” She pauses, sniffling as a fresh round of tears hits her and run over her cheeks of their own volition. She clears her throat as best she can. “After I left for Boston, I think he felt really invisible. I don’t really know that he stopped feeling invisible until he got here. And I know there’s a wealth of weight beneath all of that—the things he did and put up with to feel just a little less invisible. 

“I think… I think becoming Buck was a version of himself where he could be someone else,” she comments. She trails her gaze up his bruised, scraped, and bloodied arm to his body, covered by a hospital gown, his neck, and then his face, just as bruised and covered in cuts and scrapes. “He said to me once that being a firefighter is the only thing that he’d ever done that mattered, and how much that drove his determination to get back to it. And I know now that he did that because it made him feel seen.” 

She pauses in her speaking, eyes trailing to the ECG and watching the continuous wave of Tommy’s heartbeat. She lifts her free hand to her throat, rubbing the sides of it a few times to try and soothe away the ache formed from the combination of crying so much, and the weight of the emotion still crushing down on her chest. 

“Until he met you,” she rasps. “And don’t get me wrong—when he said that you broke up with him, I told him to move on, but I think you know a little bit why I’d just want him to be happy. When I realized just how deep into it you two were, I was the one who encouraged him to go after you…” She pauses again, forcing down another deep breath and soft ‘whew’, squeezing Tommy’s fingers lightly. “Which makes it really hard to feel like this isn’t my fault.” 

She feels the familiar popping sensations in her stomach, alerting her that her unborn child is shifting around, and her free hand drifts to the curve, stroking gently. 

“I know that in the grand scheme of things for you, I’m basically nobody,” she comments. “But…” She sniffles, not bothering to fight with wiping the tears on her face anymore. “Evan isn’t doing so well, and… truth be told, I don’t know that he would fight to come back to anyone as hard as he would for you. I also don’t know that he would be able to find the fight without you. So please wake up. I know there are people here who love you, and people here who want the chance to get to love you. I don’t want to watch my brother only get months with the love of his life when he deserves decades. You both do.” 

She squeezes his fingers once more before releasing them and pushing up out of her chair. She walks to the door and stops she reaches it, glancing back at him and then the ECG again. It continues to beep rhythmically along with the ventilator, and her bottom lip trembles as she opens the door, stepping into the waiting arms of her husband as Hen passes her with a pat on the shoulder before walking into Tommy’s room to hold vigil. 

. . . 

“I’m so sorry,  I got out as soon as I could,” Eddie says, dropping his duffle on the floor as he reaches Chimney’s side. “Any word?” 

The older man shakes his head as he stares into the hospital room. He glances over at Eddie, takes him in briefly, before they’re both staring back through the window at Bobby, Maddie, and Evan. 

“No change,” he replies wearily. “They’re trying to wean Tommy off sedation, but it’s not going well, and Buck has seized three times. They’re saying it’s not critical right now, but-..” 

“This wasn’t supposed to be the result of Buck going after him,” Eddie murmurs. 

There’s shuffling behind them and then a ‘hey, Howie,’ that draws both fo their attention. A man taller than both of them but shorter than both Buck and Tommy walks up and Eddie eyes him curiously as Chimney gives the man a sympathetic half-smile. 

“Sal, hey,” he greets wearily, extending a hand to the other man. 

“I got off shift as soon as I could,” the other man comments. “122’s running thin right now. Have you been down the hall yet?” 

Chimney nods. “You should check in with the doctor. They’re not telling us much.” 

“I will,” Sal replies. He glances up through the window. “How’s the kid?” 

Chimney and Eddie both shake their head at him. 

“Does anybody even know what the hell they were doing up there,” Eddie asks. Chimney shakes his head and Sal shrugs when they both look at him. 

“He mentioned planning on flying to try and get out of his head, but I can’t imagine this is what he had in mind.” When both Chimney and Eddie keep staring at him skeptically, he glares at them. “No. If there’s one thing I’m sure on, it’s that Tommy would do the opposite of putting the kid in danger. He’d work directly against that to keep him out of danger.” 

Chimney looks back towards Evan’s hospital room and Eddie gulps. 

“If this is less danger, then I don’t want to know what the worst result could’ve been.” 

[robocops-a-christ-allegory]

Ok so I made a chart explaining why Im constantly saying show Peacemaker is just Kupperberg Peacemaker and not actually a reinvention of the character while also saying Im pissed off comics Peacemaker is just show Peacemaker now.

I hope this explains some things.

[hotboywinter]

Fr cant live in this apartment a lot longer

[katsu28]

"Squeezing their hand reassuringly and holding their hand throughout an intense social situation" for Lando if you are still taking requests! I love your writing sm!!❤️❤️

thank you so much!!!

lando norris x reader, 1.5k. request something from here!

“I have good news and bad news. Which one do you want first?” 

You tilt your head at Lando as he slides back into his seat across from you, curious. He looks uncharacteristically serious. “What, did your card get declined or something?” 

“That’s—uh, excuse me? No.” Lando scoffs, scrunching his nose at you at the same time as he flips you off playfully. “My card did not decline, thank you very much. I’ll say it again, good news or bad news first?” 

“Good news first, always,” You insist firmly. 

Lando sighs, propping his elbows up on the table. “Good news, you got a free meal on me again. Bad news, there's a whole crowd of cameras and fans outside the restaurant right now and no way out the back.” 

“Oh.” 

Even just thinking about having to push through the whole gaggle of paparazzi outside has an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. You know you should be used to it by now, seeing as you’ve been with Lando for a while and known him even longer, but it’s not something you go through on a regular basis. You’ve tried your very best to avoid it, really. 

Without him, nobody notices you. You can blend in with others and not have to worry about whether or not your life is being looked at through a microscope. 

With him, you feel thrust into the spotlight. Even though you know they’re not here for you, they’re here for him, it doesn’t seem like anyone cares so long as they get a picture of Lando. Of course, not all of the fans are like that, but in your experience, things can get out of hand very quickly. 

“I’m sorry, love. I know how much you hate crowds.” 

“Um, yeah, it’s alright. I can handle it.” Your voice sounds breathy, even to you, and Lando takes notice, his brow creasing in concern. 

“You sure? I can leave now and you can wait here til it all dies down. I promise I’ll circle back for you,” He offers, tilting his head. He reaches across the table to take your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. Half of you wants to play it safe and take him up on the offer. It would be easier on yourself to take that route. 

At the same time, you don’t want to hide anymore. The greater part of you feels like it's about time you mustered up the courage to embrace the very thing that makes you nervous. Lando has to do it everyday, surely you can handle it once. 

“No. We’ll leave together,” You decide, firmer this time. He smiles and stands from his seat, ever a gentleman as he helps you up from your own seat. Your previous confidence takes a rather large blow when you get to the waiting area of the restaurant and actually see just how large the crowd outside is. You stop suddenly.

“I’ve got you,” He says softly. “I won’t let go of you.” 

“Promise?” 

Lando holds out his pinky towards you in a silent promise, a pre race tradition you’ve adopted to help him settle his nerves before a race. You study his completely sincere expression for a few moments before letting out a sharp exhale through your nose, hooking your pinky around his. Both of you bring your linked hands up to your mouth, kissing the side of your fists to seal the promise. 

A silly gesture from way back in his karting days, but the significance it holds now is set in stone. 

“Okay. Okay, fuck, let’s get this over with!” His fingers slide into yours now, squeezing your hand reassuringly just for good measure. 

It feels like a full body assault on all your senses coming from all sides the moment you step outside. Flashing cameras, screaming fans, being jostled around even as Lando pushes through the crowd first to try to clear the way for you. You make the mistake of looking out into the crowd instead of keeping your head down like him, and instantly you’re blinded by a series of photos being snapped inches in front of your face. 

You can’t see a thing anymore, vision swimming with white spots no matter how much you blink to try to get rid of them. You stumble on the uneven cobblestones, and Lando’s grip on your hand tightens, his other arm slipping around your waist to steady you before you trip again. 

“I’ve got you, don’t worry,” He says into your ear, holding you close. He’s the only thing keeping you from panicking, your anchor in the ocean of people as he forges on towards the car waiting at the edge of the sidewalk. “Here, step up. Yeah, that’s it, grab there. Watch your head.” 

You scramble into the backseat of the car as quickly as you can so Lando can climb in after you. The door slams shut, and all that remains is silence. No more clamoring, no more screaming, just the rumble of the car under you and the telltale lurch that you’ve started to move. 

Collapsing back against the headrest, you laugh, high pitched and disbelieving. 

“Are you alright?” Lando’s voice sounds strained, tinged with concern, and his hand squeezes yours again. “All in one piece? All your limbs still attached?”

“Ha ha. Very funny. I’m okay, I just can’t really see anything right now,” You sigh. Your vision is still fuzzy, even in the darkness of the car. If you focus hard enough, you can kind of make out faint outlines of your surroundings, but you know it’ll be a bit until you’ll be seeing things clearly again. Lando makes a worried sound, and you're sure if you could see him his head would be cocked to the side, brows pinched in the middle. “Just the flashing cameras, probably. Now I know why you wear sunglasses everywhere you go.” 

He laughs then, giggles at you like you've said something absolutely hilarious. “I told you why I always have them on me! Did you think I was joking?” 

“No, I just always thought you were being a douchebag.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Only douchebags wear glasses indoors, Lando. And blind people, but you're not blind.” 

“You might be after this,” He snickers. You shove him with a huff. Well, your smack hits something firm and he yelps, so you assume it’s him. “Ow, jesus—fine, I’m sorry. That was rude of me. I shouldn't be making fun of blind people.” 

“You shouldn’t be making fun of me! Why didn’t you bring them today?” 

“I did!” He insists. “I just…left them right here on the seat. Whoopsies.”

“Whoopsies.” 

The car returns you to Lando’s building, and thankfully by then your vision has returned so you can make your way up to his floor on your own. Lando’s gone quiet on the elevator ride up, which is a bit uncharacteristic of him. After a good meal like the one you’ve just had, usually he’s talking about how he wants to dive into bed and sleep for ten years. This time, he just stares at the changing numbers above the door silently. 

He wanders to the couch as soon as you get into the apartment, whereas you make your way over to the kitchen to grab some water. You grab a glass from the cabinet, not turning around as you ask, “Water, Lan?” 

“Do you ever regret it?” Lando sounds small, unsure. You freeze, wait for him to keep going, but he doesn’t. Confused, you turn around with the glass still in hand to see him not even looking at you, instead focusing hard on picking at a loose thread at the edge of his sleeve. 

He fiddles when he’s upset, something you’d learned quite early on in just being around him. He’s actually quite easy to read, really. Or maybe it’s just because you love him so much you’ve become attuned to his body language, what he does when he’s sad, mad, and everything in between. 

You give an acknowledging noise for him to elaborate, and he drops the thread, finally looking up at you. “Being with me.” 

“Now why would you ever think that?” You’re the concerned one now, rushing over to sit beside him on the cushions. 

He shrugs, letting his shoulders drop heavily. “I dunno, just…everything that comes with me, it’s a lot to deal with, y’know? Sometimes I wonder if you wish my life wasn't so…public all the time.” 

You take Lando’s face in your hands firmly, tilting his chin up so he's looking directly at you. “I will gladly take you and everything you come with. No matter what it is. I never want you to doubt that, my love.”

“I don’t,” He says softly, a flicker of a smile gracing his face. “How did I ever get so lucky with you?” 

“I think it was the knobby knees and giant head that really made young me go, yeah, I want that one. I think the sentiment still stands too.” 

Lando's smile disppears. Now he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're mean. You're mean and I hate you."

"That was for making fun of me earlier!"

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[k0yaz]

shackled.

Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, arranged marriage, arle referred to as your husband, use of her real name, idk if this is angst so I’ll tag it as angst and fluff, wlw, I actually fucking hate arranged marriages irl but it’s interesting to write about, fun when it’s the character you like and not a 10 year old girl getting married to an ugly ass 60 year old man who gets no bitches, uhm anyway not proofread.

A/N: nobody gonna request arrange marriage? I’ll do it myself with my husband/husbwife arlecchino 🕯️

Uneven beats of your heart pulsed in your eardrums continuously as you stared out the open window, a cool breeze caressing your downcast face gently. Your pupils flickered down to your extended left hand, dilating smaller out of disdain upon catching sight of the cold silver ring encircling your ring finger.

You dreaded it. This arranged marriage parted an endless uncomfortable pit in your stomach, which you had felt would remain as long as you were trapped in a bind you didn’t want. Gazing down at ring once more, you couldn’t help but find it difficult to swallow the choked feeling in your throat whenever you laid eyes upon the ruby, nausea enveloping every possible sense you had in the moment. Rather than a promise ring that bound you to someone you loved, the one on your finger felt like a tiny silver collar clamped around your flesh. An irking feeling that forced you to love a stranger.

Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate Arlecchino. The woman had actively attempted to respect your personal space, being able to tell how much you loathed the inescapable grasp of your arranged marriage. You could tell that she opposed even the thought of this, especially from the way her eyes would stare down at her own ring with an empty and unfeeling expression.

Sighing deeply, you reached an arm up to grasp the satin curtains, before tugging your arms inward in a single dynamic motion. As you turned your back to walk away from the now closed up windows, you felt a gust of light air brush against your nape, causing you to spin around and lower your eyes from slight annoyance. Right. You forgot to shut the windows first. You just went over to shut the windows, still harboring a hint of irritation. Ever since that marriage, you always tended to feel unwilling to do anything anymore. Frequently always irritated by the smallest of actions as you’d always think to yourself—what’s the point?

Upon closing up the windows completely, you fell back onto the intricately decorated sofa set situated in the corner of your shared bedroom, your mind still a cluttered mess from all your thoughts being scrambled rather than neatly arranged in an array. You began to ponder once more. How things could’ve been different. Ran away, or disobeyed your parents to a full extent.

There wasn’t anything you could do. You didn’t see a point in even trying to keep a happy front anymore. All of your aspirations that you had, every little dream, was now out of your reach as you were shackled into this marriage. The warm air of the heater hit your skin as you rested your cheek into your palm. A small smile made its way onto your lips as you mused at the possible scenarios that could’ve happened if you were free. Perhaps if you were wallowing in your delusion, you could smile atleast once.

“I’m home.”

You blinked from sudden surprise, jolting as the bedroom door creaked open—albeit a bit roughly. Arlecchino’s emotionless voice rang in your ears, had she called out upon entering before? She often enters the living room first, and doesn’t enter the bedroom until nightfall. Then again, you tend to reside in the living room to await your husband’s return, so maybe she simply wondered where you were.

Stray specks of blood decorated her cheek, scattering small splatters ranging in a variety of spots across her face. Right. She was the fourth harbinger after all. You folded your arms as Arlecchino towered over you, still standing upright while her x-marked eyes pierced into you. Shifting uncomfortably, you decided to clear your throat, gesturing towards your own cheek in an attempt to break the thick fog of tension between you two from the lack of words.

“You got some-“

“I’m aware.” Arlecchino replied coldly, making you bite back a scoff at the harbinger’s dismissive response. Well, excuse you for trying to make this shitty marriage more bearable.

Still, it didn’t seem intentionally rude although it did come off that way. You only looked away from her, eyes fixating on a random painting hung over the flower pot on one of the shelves. Hunching your shoulders, you bit down on your quivering lip subtly so that Arlecchino wouldn’t notice. Although you were the one that distanced yourself from her. Although you were the one who only focused on despising this marriage, rather than even trying to get closer to Arlecchino in the slightest for atleast a small hint of peace. It still hurt seeing your husband brush you off like this.

Her seemingly exhausted expression remained glued to her face as she dragged the folded white washcloth along her cheek, eyes staring at the ground aimlessly as she continued to clean her stained face. The weight of all of this had clearly taken a toll on her as well, yet she had to keep a sturdy front for the sake of her profession as a Fatui harbinger. Yet her actions regarding you had always been courteous and respectful. Consistently respecting your boundaries and trying her best to avoid making you feel uncomfortable must have taken a toll on her, especially knowing full well that your resentment for this marriage could have set you off at any given moment.

A sudden wave of sympathy flooded you upon seeing Arlecchino’s tired eyes, dark linings shaded below her eyes as well. Just maybe, you could try to repay her for having your comfort in mind throughout the course of this resented relationship. This relationship wasn’t her fault, and you knew that. She hated this just as much as you did.

Deciding to swallow your pride, you rose to your feet, standing before her as you awkwardly shifted for a couple moments while remaining standing there. Arlecchino paused her movements, raising an eyebrow at your sudden motion of getting up off the couch. She simply stared at you with a puzzled gaze, trying to figure out your sudden want to interact with her.

Hesitantly, you reached out a shaky hand, lining it up with her cheek and gesturing her to lean in. Arlecchino on the other hand, wasn’t expecting you to switch up suddenly like this, only keeping her skeptical gaze locked onto your own eyes. It felt like a trap to lean in to someone who was so hesitant to even look at her. No matter how badly she wanted to lean into the soft skin of your palm, her hesitance seemed to uphold her rationality despite her exhaustion.

“Arle…it’s okay, you can lean in…”

She needn’t be told twice as you felt her hand grab ahold of your wrist to keep it in place, her head nearly collapsing against your hand. Deep breaths echoed within the vicinity, her breaths cancelling every other noise around you two as Arlecchino slowly composed herself from your touch. She pulled back after a couple moments, her cold front faltering for a moment with a flash of tenderness, before immediately snapping back to her calm demeanor.

However, you didn’t stop there. You don’t know what flipped that switch in you, but you just felt the urge to grow closer to Arlecchino. Perhaps it was the realization that you weren’t alone in the hellhole of a marriage, and that you two may be suffering together. Knowing she hated this as much as you was comforting, it remedied your internal turmoil slightly, and made you detest the idea of anyone else going through what you were. Or maybe, it was the fact that Arlecchino didn’t push anything in this marriage, and respected you, preventing your mental state from growing worse. It could even be both.

Regardless, you wanted to atleast provide a sort of ease to her. Cupping her cheek once more, you pulled the washcloth from her hand, rubbing it against her cheek in circular motions as stains of blood began to soak up onto the cloth and coloring it red. Arlecchino didn’t seem to protest your attempt at soothing her, face pressing further into your shaky palm as it seemed to be working. The quiet buzz of the heater reverberating through the silence, and the general tidy atmosphere of the neatly arranged bed made everything feel so right. As if this marriage wasn’t so awful after all.

Arlecchino exhaled a swift sigh as you finished washing up her face, remaining silent. The two of you awkwardly awaited for the other to speak up, the crickets outside chirping louder than the two of you by this point. You finally decided to say something, face tinged a light pink from moderate embarrassment

“You didn’t want this either did you?”

Arlecchino shook her head in affirmation, her eyes still avoiding yours—as if she was afraid that your vulnerability would shift over to her, and shatter her calm self at this moment.

“I’m well aware of this situation. Your parents are already closely associated with the Fatui, and want wanted you to marry a harbinger in order to elevate their own status for the sake of the family.” She replied. A sour taste seeped onto your tongue at the mention of the reason why you were forced into this in the first place, unpleasant memories beginning to race through your mind for a few moments.

“Why did you accept the offer then? You could’ve easily declined if you didn’t want to be in this marriage either. There’s multiple other harbingers my parents would’ve auctioned me off to.” You said bitterly, strangely hating the idea of getting married to anyone who wasn’t Arlecchino at this point. Arlecchino merely shrugged in response, raising her shoulders to remove the white fur coat cloaking her and draping it neatly over the coat hanger drilled into the wall.

“I’m not sure.” She paused, taking some time to think over another answer to compensate for her vague response. “I believe I just felt it was necessary in that moment.”

You sighed back collapsing onto the mattress. Suddenly, you felt an arm circle your waist, pulling you closer as you felt Arlecchino push her torso flush against your back. Your face burned from the sudden intimate action, the warmth of her body only serving to make you lean into her further as her sharp nails raked along your stomach lightly. Arlecchino whispered out against you, visibly less uptight than when she came in. She was a bit more relaxed and clingy with you simply with a mere touch against her cheek, it was sweet honestly.

“I still care about you, (Name).” She muttered against your neck, voice muffled as she was evidently quite tired. Pale rays of the moonlight illuminated Arlecchino’s now eased expression, watching her eyes lowered shut as her exhaustion began to catch up with her. Surprisingly, you found yourself relishing in the comfort of her arms as you flipped onto your side facing her to examine her rested features.

“…I’m starting to care about you too, Peruere.”

Your hand drew down along her arm, all the way from the skin of her shoulder down to the black faded enveloping her arms from her curse. Maybe, just maybe, this could work. You found solace in the fact that you could make the best out of this marriage with a woman who kept you in mind and tried her best to care about your interests.

Maybe, you could warm up to her.

A/N: im screaming idk if this turned out good guys pls asaaawaabshshs but yayyyyy arlecchino MY CONTENT WARNINGS WERE ASS ON THIS ONE WHY ARE THEY SO BORING AND SAD ‼️

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | end up here

a/n: i'm going FERALLLLLLL over this chapter. enjoy poisoned mercury's debut album hehe.

iv. end up here by 5sos

series masterlist | previous | next

“your band name doesn’t even make any sense,” you argued, eyes narrowing at the boy in front of you. 

luke crashed your secret spot, again, and refused to let you smoke in silence until you gave him a detailed explanation of how your day went. he knew you didn’t smoke every day, only on days that were particularly hard. he noticed that your bad days always had something to do with your dad, but it didn’t feel like the right moment to bring that up. 

anyway, you got fed up with his badgering and that stupid smirk on his face because he knew you were about to crack, and decided that if he was going to act like a toddler, you would too. hence, why you were now bringing up his band name. 

luke took offense to that because he thought the band name was cool. he was the one to suggest it. he crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to let his hurt show on his face, “what do you mean? poisoned mercury is a sick name.” 

“mercury is already poisonous. your band name is like redundant or some shit.” 

“then why did so many people in history ingest it?” luke asked, recalling the one thing he remembered from his high school history class before he dropped out. he took a drag from his cigarette, turning his body a bit so the wind didn’t blow the smoke directly in your face. 

“they fucking died, castellan,” you replied, deadpan. 

“oh,” he blinked, staring off, “i didn’t know that.” 

you rolled your eyes, a habit that you’ve picked up whenever you were with him and sat back down on the bench. luke joined you, silent as he thought about what you just said. he really needed to stop zoning out during lessons, but since he was already out of high school, he guessed it didn’t matter anymore. 

as much as you hate to admit it, luke castellan was growing on you. sure, he got on your nerves like nobody else– the boy just doesn’t quit– but, he wasn’t half as bad as you originally thought. not that you’d ever tell him that though. 

when you got back to the cabin last week after helping with concert prep, the cabin was spotless. there were no empty red bull cans in sight, the table tops were free of crumbs, floor vacuumed and mopped, and there was even a candle burning on the counter. you approached your bedroom door to find a post-it on the handle. luke’s messy writing was smudged around the corners, but you could still make out what it said. 

“five star, 

i snitched on the boys and my mom will have a stern talk with them about their cleanliness. can’t promise that people will stop talking about me, but i can promise you won’t have to live in the dojo casa house mojo or whatever it was. 

ps i’m using the spot tomorrow, just thought i should let you know. maybe we can set up a calendar for reservations. 

luke :)” 

the cabin hasn’t been as messy since. whatever may castellan told the boys worked like a charm. there was still the occasional trash, but nothing crazy. it smelled better in the cabin too, still like a boy, but it smelled like expensive cologne more than anything. cedarwood and pine. 

and thankfully, the luke castellan hype train was starting to run out of steam, with many people finally realizing that he was also just a human being and the surprising revelation that luke castellan was not entertaining anyone during his time at camp helped with it as well. you still heard whispers about him here and there, but you were glad the topic of conversation was beginning to switch to something else. 

you and luke walked to the gym and back home every morning together. he and the boys sat with you and clarisse during meals. they tagged along for music lessons and spoke to the kids, which they really appreciated. they helped the older campers with writing music, luke particularly. you’d been around a few musicians in your life and many of them only kissed ass when your dad was around, but poisoned mercury was different. they were passionate about their music. that was clear.

after a conversation with clarisse, where she managed to convince you that not all musicians are like your ex, you began to let loose a little bit. you hung out with the boys more, partly as an excuse so clarisse could hang out with chris without causing too much suspicion, and found that you actually enjoyed their company. and luke castellan? well, he wasn’t half bad. that doesn’t mean he got off easy though. 

you took a hit of your vape, facing him, “are you done interrogating me?” 

“for now, yeah,” he smiled as you shook your head. “are you coming to the concert tonight?” 

“well, i did help organize it.” 

“a simple yes would’ve sufficed, five star,” luke teased, relighting his cigarette. it was burning unevenly and luke was never one to waste his cigarettes. “you gonna watch us play?” 

“don’t have a choice. dad wants me there the whole time.” 

“you can act a little excited,” luke ran a hand through his curls, “we are pretty good, you know.” 

“i know,” you hummed. the sun was beginning to set and there was a slight breeze in the air. goosebumps formed on your skin, the t-shirt and denim shorts you wore didn’t offer much comfort. you shivered, “i have listened to your music.” 

“are you cold?” 

your teeth chattered, but you shook your head, “i’m fine.” 

luke took off his hoodie, tossing it in your direction, “take it.” 

“no,” you tossed it back to him, “told you i’m good.”

always so stubborn, luke thought.  

“if you catch a cold, that’s not on me,” he placed the hoodie on the bench between the two of you. “which songs have you listened to?” 

“kilby girl, of course. it played on the radio so much when you guys first dropped it,” you said, remembering the days where you and your hometown friends would blast it in the car. it reminded you of high school, reckless decisions, life-long memories, and the thrill of knowing you were going to be playing the sport you’d worked so hard to excel in at a d1 level in the fall. you looked at him, sincerity in your eyes, “i really like family line. it might be my favorite.” 

luke’s eyebrows shot up. not many people talked about family line. it was probably their least streamed song. they never performed the song on tour because it was difficult for luke to sing it. it was a personal song to him. it was inspired by his relationship with his father, or lack thereof. 

when poisoned mercury first got signed to olympus records, luke sent a message to his dad on facebook. luke hadn’t tried to contact him since he was ten, not since his father returned his letter to him unopened, no response but a “return to sender” stamp plastered over the envelope. but after the small congratulatory party his mom set up for the band after they signed, luke felt like a little kid again, a kid who wanted to share the great news with his dad, so he found his dad on facebook, made an account, and sent him a message. 

he didn’t get a reply, which was expected, but it felt good for a second to pretend that he had a father to tell his good news to. luke thought he didn’t care about whether or not his dad was proud of him, but when his message went from “sent” to “read” a few days later, he was brought back to those moments in his life when he cried and wondered why he wasn’t enough to make his dad stay. he wrote family line in one sitting, on his bed in his bedroom in connecticut, looking at the little league medals on his wall that seemed to mock him. 

he originally didn’t want it on the album because he felt like it didn’t fit the vibe of the rest of the songs and that it was too real, too vulnerable for a debut album, but then he played it for his mom and she loved it. she cried when she first heard it and luke knew that even if people didn’t like the song, he was going to put it out for his mom. 

“huh,” he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, “wasn’t expecting that one. thought you’d be more of a crash my car type of girl.” 

“i like that too,” you shrugged, “but family line. that song. i don’t think i have the words to describe it.” 

“thanks, five star,” luke looked down at his feet, taking a puff from his dying cigarette. “that’s my mom’s favorite, too.” 

“did you write it?” 

luke nodded, looking to face you. there was a new expression on your face, one that you’d never used with him before. it was a mix of disbelief and awe. he tried not to get offended that you didn’t think he could write something like family line, but he couldn’t blame you. he didn’t really portray the type of person who would be able to be that raw and vulnerable on a song. “me and trav write the lyrics for our songs, mostly. chris and connor help too, but the bulk of the lyrics are me.” 

“you need to stop doing that.”

he cocked his head to the side, crushing the cigarette butt on the hardware of the bench, “doing what?” 

“surprising me,” you shook your head, “i don’t like it.” 

“i don’t know what to tell you,” he chuckled, leaning back on the bench. he looked out into the lake, watching the sun disappear behind the mountains, “i have layers. you just gotta give me a chance.” 

“how do you do it?” you sat criss cross on the bench, leaning against the arm rest. “how do you write like that?” 

you’d always been curious about music, even if you weren’t good at it. your dad was never one to answer your questions, especially because you were interested in lyrics more than anything, and that wasn’t his forte. 

luke mimicked your actions, “i dunno. personal experience, i guess?”

you frowned, thinking about the lyrics of family line. luke never talked about his dad, but spoke highly of his mom. was family line based on his own life? if it was, his dad was an asshole. 

you relented to the cold, grabbing the hoodie that he left in between the two of you. you ignored the triumphant smile on his face when you draped the sweater over your bare legs, shielding them from the wind chills. 

he continued, “sometimes things happen to me that get me worked up and i have to write a song about it. sometimes, it’s based on my imagination. it depends.”

you wanted to ask him about his dad, but you didn’t know if he considered you guys friends yet. it’s not like you made it easy for him anyway. you could deal with the banters and annoyance, but you didn’t want to push him to talk about something he wasn’t ready to. you could be a dick, but you weren’t cruel. 

you changed the subject, “okay, let’s play a game.” 

“21 questions?” luke bit his bottom lip, trying not to laugh. he waggled his eyebrows, dodging your arm that reached out to smack him. 

“you’re gross,” you gagged, knowing the implications of the game, “no, i’m gonna ask about the songs on your album and you tell me if it’s real life or from your imagination.” 

“alright, go for it five star,” he beamed, propping his elbows on his crossed knees. he loved talking about music with anyone. he could go on and on for hours. 

“18.” 

“real,” luke snorted, remembering the first time travis pitched the idea for the song to the band, “but not my experience. it was trav. he met this girl at one of our gigs in new york, right after we got signed, and he was obsessed. she was a freshman at nyu and she kept telling him he was too young for her, even though she was just less than a year older. trav was hooked.” 

you could picture it. it was definitely something travis would do. “okay, another one of my favorites. only angel?” 

“not real,” luke shook his head, a slight blush creeping up on his face. “if you tell anyone, five star, i will vehemently deny it, but i had a crush on jade west from victorious and i wrote it about her.” 

there was something about jade west that made luke like a love-sick puppy. ignoring the fact that she was hot, her attitude was something that luke was attracted to. she had a tough exterior and acted like she didn’t care about people, but she had her moments where she was soft and kind to the people she cared about the most. luke liked that. the idea that someone could be sensitive but only to the people they deemed worthy. 

he’d spent so much of his life trying to be worthy, in whatever way the stage of his life defined it, and he craved it– a pat on the back, an approval, a confirmation that he was worthy of it. 

you threw your head back laughing, surprised by his ridiculous confession. the sound of your laughter rang across the woods, making luke smile. your voice echoed throughout the trees and he his senses were surrounded by you. it hit luke like a truck. 

he sucked in a breath, taking out his phone. he jolted from his seat for more than one reason. “shit, five star. we gotta go.” 

you took out your phone too, checking the time. your eyes widened as you got up from your seat. you threw his hoodie over to him, “fuck, we’re late.” 

the two of you raced out of the woods, arriving to the concert venue with flushed faces and rapid breaths. you could feel clarisse’s knowing eyes on you as you got ready for the concert. you tried your best to ignore it. you were going to deal with that later. 

–

“and for the final event, i know you guys are looking forward to this one,” your dad laughed into the mic. the sun was long gone and there were disco lights illuminating the stage. a smoke machine was on either corner, making it difficult to see the bottom half of the stage. you and clarisse stood in the front row, listening to the deafening cheers of the campers. “ladies and gents, welcome poisoned mercury!” 

the screams got louder which you didn’t even know was possible. travis entered the stage first, sticking his tongue out as he expertly twirled his drumsticks around his fingers. connor came in next, smiling and waving at the crowd as he plugged his guitar into the amp. chris walked in with his bass strapped around his neck, eyes immediately finding clarisse and sending her a shy smile. you nudged her teasingly, enjoying the way she blushed under the lights. 

then luke castellan walked in. he ditched his hoodie and t-shirt and walked in with a white tank top on, messing with the curls on his head. he tugged on the silver necklace around his neck as his eyes scanned the crowd. he threw a wink to the group of the older girls in the back, turning to travis to let out a laugh at their reaction. the lights on the boys were blinding and a thin layer of sweat already began to form on their skin despite the bite to the air. 

luke took center stage, picking up his guitar. he leaned over directly in front of you, fingers pretending to mess with the wires connecting his guitar to the speakers, “hey, five star.” 

he straightened his back before you could reply. clarisse’s eyes darted between you and the boy, now nudging you like you did to her earlier. you rolled your eyes, smiling at the rest of the boys as luke began talking on the mic. 

“what’s up, camp half blood?” luke screamed into the mic. the crowd roared. “we’re poisoned mercury and we are so happy to be with you guys here this summer. before we close out this awesome concert, i wanna introduce our lovely band.” 

“on drums, we have the one and only, travis stoll!” luke turned around to applaud travis as he did a little drum solo, head banging as he hit the drums. he turned to connor, “on lead guitar, we have the amazing connor stoll!” 

connor strummed his guitar, leaning over on the left side to soak in the applause of the crowd. the girls beside you swooned as he unleashed one of his award-winning smiles. 

luke faced chris, “and on bass, we have my very best friend in the entire world, my 4lifer, chris rodriguez!” clarisse cheered loudly for chris as he played a tune on his bass, mouthing, “love you, brother,” to luke as he played. the crowd quited for a second as luke addressed them again, “and my name is luke castellan. we’re poisoned mercury!” 

you turned around to look at the crowd. the size of the crowd tripled when the boys got on stage. everyone had a smile on their face, excited to hear them play. 

“the song we’ll be singing for you guys today is from our debut album,” luke adjusted his mic on the stand. he got closer to it, lips touching the metal, “this is only angel.” 

you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at their song choice. this was not the song they were supposed to sing. they’d been rehearsing kilby girl for the past week. luke saw your reaction, laughing along with you. 

the instrumentals began and you nearly missed the beat drop because of the cheers from the crowd. as the song progressed, the boys were one with the music. you watched luke sing, working the crowd like a pro. his skin glistened under the spotlight, beads of sweat tricking down the side of his face. he approached chris when the chorus started, dragging his mic stand with him. he swung his guitar around so it rested on his back as he sang the lyrics. his curls were sticking to his forehead, eyebrows raised in glee as he performed. 

you couldn’t take your eyes off the lead singer, not even when the rest of the band had their own solos in the song. your eyes were glued on luke; how his adam’s apple was on full display as he threw his head back, getting lost in the music, how his arms flexed as he wrapped the mic cord around his fist, how his thin tank top stuck to his body and how it raised when he lifted his arm up to bring the mic closer to his lips. you saw the outline of his abdomen and his v-line. 

but what really got you was his face. he looked at peace on stage, a wide smile on his face, full lips pink and glossy as he licked them in between verses. he looked incredible up there, like that was where he belonged. he was born to be on stage like this. 

“fuck,” you mumbled, applauding at the end of their song. luke’s eyes found yours as he sang the last bit of the song, smiling at you. you hoped clarisse couldn’t hear you talk to yourself. you looked down at your feet, tugging nervously on the collar of your shirt, “i get it now.”

[ryo-kaikura]

Male Yandere x Stoic Top Male Reader

Tw: there's gonna be: mention of murder, taking other people's skin and yandere.

This was inspired by an old anime (I forgot the name, but it had old art, and its MC is a wandering hired ninja for cheap)

It was the era of danger. People's ideal jobs are being an assassin or a hired killer or an adventurer. Either way, you would have to kill to live. Because Your world is a trial, a beta to God as he wants to create a perfect world, but he pitied the world that turned into a dangerous one, so God gave every being an ability. So everyone who reaches 15 years old manifests an ability, and usually it's random. It's not because of what you liked as a kid, nor is it what you like.

-------------------------------------------------------

You were different. You realized that when you remembered everything since you came out of your mother. You remembered everything everyone had said around you. 

People would usually grow and be weird and lonely people, but not you. You were able to be the “perfect man” everyone dreamed of. Remembering what your parents told you, what your friends told you, but you realized a side effect, you don't exactly feel emotion easily. You aren't able to feel happy as easily as your friends nor your parents, but you didn't care.

You at first thought that it was your ability, but no, it wasn't your ability. your ability, when it manifested, was always seen as terrible because you could hardly manipulate a single strand of string. So they cast you out, even when you seem perfect, your ability  made them feel disgusted with you.

But you still didn't care.

-------------------------------------------------------

After finding out your ability, your parents kicked you out, and you've been wandering ever since.

It's been three years since then, and you lived wandering and happy. Why might you ask? Because nobody knew you anymore, and without the constant admiration, you were able to perfect your ability until you could even reconnect severed veins (I took this from HXH). 

After wandering for a while, you see a man in a sea of corpses. He is average faced and barely breathes with a slit on his throat. Being ever so uncaring  you decided to leave but the man kept calling you, calling for your help. So you decide to help him. 

After a few days, the man was able to wake up, and again, you decided to leave. But the man tries to stop you, but his voice isn't  loud enough, so he tries to go to you, but his body is still limp after losing so much blood.

After you hear a thud behind you, you look back and see the man, on the ground, reaching for you and when he was able to get to touch you, he gripped you as tight as he could.

You, amused, decide to nurse him back to full health. After a while and he was able to talk again, he told you about himself. His name was Iro (idk, please don’t judge me). He told you about how he got betrayed. You also learned that his ability was sewing and how he had no way to sew his neck because his friends cut off his nerves on his fingertips, so he was unable to sew it.

-------------------------------------------------------

After a while, he didn't want to leave you. He would whine and cling to you when you leave. You would have to bring him everywhere you go, but because of this, you realize something. He did get betrayed, but he didn't tell you the reason. You also learned his ability to leave no scarring as you see him putting on the skin of a man he killed on him and sewing it on and leaving no trace. 

Usually, people would be scared of this as that means he could just be insane but you didn't care, and he loved you because of this.

His POV

After years of following his “savior”, you, he built up his following. Without you knowing, he was able to grow his power and was able to change his appearance and skin. Another thing you didn't know about him was that he was God before he was overthrown by his own perfect creations, and afterward, you found him. He was overthrown because his creations felt that Iro didn't give them enough affection. 

Before checking up on his discarded world, he saw you. You seemed more perfect than his own perfect creation. 

After the first month of seeing you, he tried to catch your eye but it never worked until his creations betrayed him. Oh how happy he was when you looked at him.

(Back to you)

You on the other hand didn't care about a leech, Iro, clinging to you and pouting every time he thought you liked other people before changing his face, this is until he was able to be the one you only liked.

-------------------------------------------------------

One night, two men dressed in white, each, though different from the others, had pretty bodies and beautiful faces. Both were walking together when suddenly they froze, shocked. 

WHY IS THE DEMONS HERE!!!???

The “demons” grab them and bring them to a dark basement. When they wake up, they see two ugly men sit on their opposite of them. The two beautiful men start to activate their ability, but it seems like they are unable. No sooner than 5 minutes of them trying a man that has a godly physique and a handsome face appears 

Iro decided to replace an old ugly skin for newer ones. Iro wanted to be perfect for you, and if he can't do that, then he would bind you to him, but for now. He's satisfied with being clingy…

Then again, he should get the best of the best. After all, he is still a GOD.

..........................................................................................

I know this is terrible, and it also didn't go as I wanted it to go 🥲

[cherbexr]

Sentinel Prime as...

your music manager??

^^(the readers laughing at how ridiculous this dumbass hc is)

Not really a Sentinel Prime x Reader romantic post

Warnings: Bad language, slight fat shaming, Sentinel Prime

-------------------------------------------------------

yeah wtf cherry? what kind of headcanon is this 🤨 Just something a little different!

I like to think that there are different forms of entertainment in Iacon. There's of course the Iacon 5000, but there are other forms like strip clubs and television shows like Iacon's Got Talent.

Sentinel Prime was invited to judge the show, and he took the opportunity to show Iacon how involved he is with the city and how great a leader he is!...

You decided to try for Iacon's Got Talent to show off your awesome vocals! Unknowingly THE Sentinel Prime would be there to judge.

You stepped out on the stage when on cue and a round of applause was heard as you did. You smile and wave and look over to the judges and gasp when you see a stupid smile from a royal blue and golden big ass bot.

You introduced yourself and your talent and after a few moments, you did your thing.

When you were done, whoops and applause were heard again and the judges were impressed.

One judge gave their opinion and the next until it was Sentinel's turn. He probably said some shit about how outstanding you were and yada yada.

"I would like to personally endorse this talented bot and help them prosper!"

Oh! That's great news!

.

.

.

Wait what??

Did he just say he wanted to endorse you?? No way the leader of Iacon wants to endorse you and make you become the singer you've always wanted to be! This is great news! Heck yeah you're accepting that offer!

-------------------------------------------------------

That was the worst decision you've ever made.

This guy literally made you change your paint job to match his. But it can't be the same because Sentinel Prime's color palette is his own palette and nobody can copy it.

Your paint job is probably like a pastel blue and yellow or something along the blue and yellow thing. You have to represent him in some way.

He endorsed you because he wants to show Iacon how a great leader like him can bring up great stars like you! You have to make him look good, perform well, sing well, and look good. Everything has to be perfect because if you make a flaw, you'll make him look bad and a failure of a manager.

He makes you perform at the Iacon 5000 to get his people pumping. Making you do the most over-the-top performances. You have to keep looking back at him for his approval. He is secretly sending you messages into your processor on what to do and if you need to be louder or something.

He doesn't let you have a social life and is very restrictive about what you're doing.

"That's one energon cube too many, you're going to be fat. I can't have a fat star, can I?"

The only time you'd be seen with random people is when you're being filmed doing charity or something good for the community.

Wow! Sentinel Prime endorsed such a kind bot! He has a great eye for good people!

Dating? Don't even think about it before asking him first. He would only let you "date" some popular bot. Maybe a top racer or another star. But you wouldn't be actually dating, it's just a way for Sentinel Prime to keep you relevant.

You have to be the top singer in all of Iacon. All other singers and stars, don't even think about trying to outdo you. If they somehow surpass you, oops! They accidentally ingested poison! I wonder how that happened... (That Beyonce theory reference lol)

Don't even think about getting sick and having to call off the show. You are doing that to show whether you're dying or not. He's gonna get the top doctor and patch you up right away. How unreliable you are for canceling a show thousands of bots wanted to see!

-------------------------------------------------------

You talk to Sentinel, telling him you don't wanna do this anymore and he stops in his tracks. He turns around and bends down to face you with a disappointed look.

"You don't want to do this anymore? After all this hard work and money I put into you, to make you become who you are now? Well...I guess it's such a shame...All those poor poor bots who look up to you and love you will be just so sad to see you leave your whole career and them behind..." He then stood up and guided you near the window that had a whole view of Iacon.

He then glances at you, "Such a shame, am I right?"

Take that as a no.

-------------------------------------------------------

One time you're practicing for a big performance. The stylist and stage decorators are doing their thing and you run through the show. Sentinel Prime walks in on it and watches it before interrupting.

"Woah Woah Woah Woah! What is this?? I did not ask for this. The decoration is ugly, and the paint job is sloppy, who the hell wrote this script?!"

A stage manager looked around and back at him, "You did sir." They said as they pointed and showed him the clipboard.

He snatched it out of their hand and threw it to the side, "How could I possibly write this? This isn't even my handwriting! You're fired."

(He wrote it. )

He then motioned for you to come over to him and he grabbed your face and showed you to the rest of the crew, "I can't have precious (y/n) looking all ugly and making a fool out of herself now can I?"

You glared at him, "I think it's fi-"

"shhh, I'm doing you a favor."

He rewrote everything, changed every single direction, and watched the whole rerun applauding.

"Now that's what I want!"

-------------------------------------------------------

Remember my headcanons

Feel free to request!

Not proofread

[belovedmuichiro]

I saw a post once that entertained the idea of Tsutako being in the background of Sanemi’s hometown in the anime, and it got me thinking about a sanegiyuu childhood meet cute.

…

- When Giyuu was 13, he took a trip with Tsutako to a neighboring city where her fiancé had come from

- Though Giyuu was a much friendlier person as a child, he was still quiet, reserved and nervous. As a result, being in a bigger city was overwhelming and he struggled to keep up with Tsutako as they walked

- Before they could reach her fiancé’s home, Giyuu was separated from her in a crowd

- Without any people skills to speak of or the confidence to ask for help, Giyuu let the crowd swallow him up until he found a small spot he could cower in

- He ended up hiding under the stairs of a shrine where nobody could see him. He cried so quietly, nobody could possibly hear him either, but a boy did miraculously find him

- The boy was strikingly beautiful with stark white hair and piercing eyes. His presence made Giyuu stop crying almost immediately, but only because he was mesmerized.

- When the boy spoke, he was blunt and sort of rude but Giyuu hung onto every word he said as if he was a kind spirit come to save him

- “You cry like my little siblings,” he observed. It was a simple, random sort of thing to say but it perplexed Giyuu so much that he didn’t cry any longer

- Giyuu learned that this particular shrine is where the boy would find one of his brothers hiding, so when he saw Giyuu curled up, he thought something might’ve happened to him

- Giyuu reluctantly explained he was separated from Tsutako while visiting. In truth, he wasn’t sure if he should trust a stranger but they were clearly of a similar age and that put him at ease compared to an adult

- The boy gave Giyuu a small canteen of water before they could continue because the crying had obviously overwhelmed him. He then asked for the fiancé’s name, which he scowled upon hearing, surprisingly knowing the person

- “Is that bad?” Giyuu nervously asked

- “He’s one of the sons of our landlord,” the boy explained, “He’s fine. His family’s a buncha dicks.”

- Profanities aside, Giyuu asked if he could lead him there, and the boy agreed

- “What did his family do?” Giyuu asked on the way

- “Their kid brother said some shit about my family bein’ too big and my brother got into a fight with him about it.”

- “How big is your family?”

- “Nine of us. I have six siblings.”

- Giyuu learned that his mother had just given birth, which prompted the rude comment from their landlord’s son. He also had a father who he didn’t want to talk about on account of him angering some violent people

- Though the boy didn’t seem terribly interested in prying into Giyuu’s life, he still asked, “What about you?”

- “I just have my sister. My parents died when I was young.”

- “Lucky you have a sister.”

- “Yes… I’m Giyuu, by the way.”

- For a moment, the boy looked hesitant to give anymore details about himself, but must’ve decided he doesn’t have much to lose.

- “Sanemi.”

- On the way to the landlord’s home, it began to rain so Sanemi pulled Giyuu aside near a food stall to wait it out.

- Giyuu, as luck would have it, did have a small amount of money on him and suggested they share a meal.

- Sanemi agreed, not letting on that he rarely has enough money to ever eat out. However, Giyuu became curious when Sanemi awkwardly held his food at his side and wouldn’t take a bite.

- He didnt want to admit it, but his plan was to pocket whatever Giyuu bought him to bring home to his family. He wasn’t going to tell Giyuu, but the boy’s earnest, honest face pulled it out of him

- In response, Giyuu bought him another and asked that he feed himself as well

- When Sanemi finally did eat, Giyuu smiled for the first time. It flustered Sanemi, who quickly learned he couldn’t handle a pretty face

- When the rain ended, people came flooding to the streets in overwhelming numbers that scared Giyuu again

- To reassure him, Sanemi grabbed his hand and returned his earlier smile, promising he’ll be okay as long as they stick together

- Giyuu took to Sanemi with awe. The crowd was still scary, but Giyuu grounded himself in the feeling of his companion’s hand and trusted his word.

- Eventually they did find themselves at the landlord’s house. Most of the family was out looking for Giyuu, but luckily Tsutako stayed and was there to greet him.

- This was also a relief to Sanemi, who wasn’t sure he would be able to resist driving his fist into the face of the boy who fought with Genya

- Sanemi intended to leave with no commotion, just an odd empty feeling at the notion of leaving his new acquaintance, but Giyuu stopped him

- “Thank you for helping me,” he said with much more confidence than the first time he spoke. “You’re very kind, Sanemi.”

- Sanemi, flustered, shrugged and promised it was no problem. “Couldn’t just leave ya there…”

- “Maybe we’ll see each other again.”

- When Giyuu said this, he held onto the hope that because Tsutako new husband had close ties to Sanemi’s, they would surely meet again one day

- It was hard to explain but Giyuu felt drawn to Sanemi, like he was a special person he was meant to meet

- Of course, he couldn’t predict the tragedy that would befall both of them

- Years later, long after Tsutako and the Shinazugawa family were murdered, Sanemi was welcomed into the Hashira and finally met Giyuu again

- Only this time, he was quiet and cold. He didn’t give any indication that he remembered Sanemi and didn’t have any of the kindness he was full of as a child. Sanemi decided that he must’ve turned into a conceited ass with no time for the little people, he probably didn’t even remember him.

- But it was impossible for Giyuu to forget who Sanemi was. Even under all the scars and curses, he was still the boy who saved him that day. But Giyuu knew they had fundamentally changed as people, and clearly Sanemi wanted nothing to do with him any longer

- Unfortunately for them, the draw remains there no matter how far apart they try to drift.

[akutasoda]

you're hurting much more than yourself

prompt - resolutions

including - kinich

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, angst w/ comfort, small mentions of injuries, wc - 1.3k

a/n: req by another lovely anon :) -> "haii!!! for your new year's event can you do kinich - "resolutions"? (ofc it's up to you how the plot goes but i was thinking a twist on resolutions - like resolving a conflict/argument that happened? again, always your choice and thank you sm if you plan to do this one!)"

new years often meant a fresh start to most. a time to start pushing aside old habits, to stop dwelling on insignificant things and look towards a better future.

so why couldn't kinich do the same?

mualani had once introduced him to you and at first, you two had gotten along well - much to mualani's delight. to any onlookers of your blossoming friendship, it would seem as though it would only bloom into a strong one destined to stand the test of time.

and it felt like that. kinich never failed to make you smile, not even failing to simply make you feel happy constantly in his presence. for him, you had a similar effect on him.

around you, kinich was always more friendly and open. constantly showing a more sentimental demeanor often accompanied by a very clear display of positive emotions.

even around kinich, you found ajaw's constant presence more tolerable. namely as kinich soon began finding ways to distract ajaw when you were around so he could be selfish and have the time with you spent completely just with you.

however, unfortunately, there was a turning point.

a sudden unprecedented shift in kinich's behaviour towards you and only you. quickly, he became reduced back down to a silent almost standoffish nature around you, treating you as though you were a stranger.

it hurt you deeply. especially since up to this point you two had been rather close up to that point and it didn't help that it happened way too quick for you to even process what had caused his sudden shift in behaviour.

but whenever you tried to figure out what was wrong, kinich seemed to push you impossibly further away. eventually you stopped trying as it was clear you weren't going to get anywhere with him anymore.

so for the last year, you two had been even more distant than strangers.

for some reason kinich couldn't move on and push everything aside. most of him was practically screaming for him to use the new approaching year as a means to forget and move on - hopefully rebuilding his relationship with you at the same time.

but he couldn't bring himself to.

while you were left clueless as to his reasoning behind his change in behaviour, kinich was ever so painfully aware of such reasoning. and he would admit that it was due to nobody's fault but his own.

it was all down to an accident that was due to his negligence - yet it was a minor one in your opinion, so you wouldn't have guessed that it was the reason behind kinich's distancing.

not too long after you and kinich became well acquainted, you had a rather unexpected, quite aggressive, encounter with a saurian. normally they were docile but this one was aggravated for some reason and you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

kinich himself was accompanying you and had left for a couple minutes. although, it was longer than he anticipated and so he had returned to find you being attacked by a saurian.

being a skilled saurian hunter, kinich was easily able to diffuse the situation and you were fortunate to of sustained minor injuries - the shock getting to you more. but that didn't matter to kinich. the only thing that mattered to him was the fact that he wasn't there to prevent it in the first place.

while he was thankful that it wasn't anything major, you still got injured and it was due to his negligence. even as you thanked him and started talking about how unexpected it was, practically laughing it off, there was something that was making kinich not be able to forgive himself.

it wasn't his fault yet it felt that way to him. to kinich, you were one of his closest friends, if not, the closest. he would never even think about causing harm to you and so failing to protect you from the very things he hunted felt like he'd personally hurt you.

and kinich believed that all things come at a cost.

so he self imposed the cost on himself to compensate for the grief from the pain he caused you. and that cost was distancing himself from you.

if he couldn't even protect you from a small incident, then he feared what over potential misfortunes might befall you that he still wouldn't be able to help you in.

some may say he was overthinking. but to kinich, he wasn't. and ever since, kinich had kept his distance.

but the longer it went on, the more it felt like torture. by this point, kinich desperately wanted to push aside his wallowing but he couldn't bring himself too - it has hurt him even more to watch you stop trying to find out what was wrong and finally mimic his behaviour.

and as the new year was approaching, kinich thought he could finally push aside all his problems, come clean to you and hopefully be back on good terms. although he wouldn't exactly blame you if you didn't want to be friends with him again.

he desperately craved your presence however. he missed everything about you that made him ever so content in life. even you simply being in his vicinity was enough to make his heart beat faster, for his gaze to automatically draw itself to you and to simply feel happier.

so even if kinich didn't think he could, he would desperately try and push past his wallowing and gain closure. he would try for you.

and plus, ajaw was getting increasingly annoying with his constant whining for you to come back - not that kinich didn't want you back as well.

so he managed to meet with you, on new years eve - he appreciated the willingness you showed to meet with him despite how horrid he had treated you for the last year.

it was awkward at first, although that could be expected on both sides, but it wasn't too long for the main question to be thrown out there by you.

“why did you distance yourself so suddenly?”

kinich sucked in a harsh breath before stammering to start his explanation, eventually biting his doubts and overcrowding thoughts, finally coming clean.

once he had started his explanation, it felt as though it would never stop. everything was becoming crystal clear in your mind and even kinich was feeling a great weight being lifted from his weight and conscious.

when he finally got it all out in the open, he suddenly felt exposed. as though he was suddenly awakening to the idea that his reasoning was insignificant and he caused you all that pain for nothing-

but you didn't care. you were simply content with the fact that kinich was finally telling you what weighed heavy on his mind all this time.

almost immediately, you stepped forward and brought him into a hug. it was short but it was a sign that you two were finally alright again.

that, next year, you two could go back to the relationship you had - the very same one that both of you realised neither could live without.

[genderqueerdykes]

Thank you for your “cishet looking men” post. I’m a trans lesbian who was hyper femme for many years but now feel at home being butch. I also had to go back in the closet for grad school. My wife is a lesbian, and I’m constantly grieving no longer being seen as a lesbian couple. Everyone thinks I’m a straight man. It’s especially painful in queer spaces. I fear that people look at me with suspicion and disgust, and I know it affects my wife as well (the whole “don’t bring your bf to Chappell Roan” thing). Worse still, for many reasons I don’t know when I’ll ever be able to be fully out again… my wife supports and reassures me wholeheartedly, but it hurts so much sometimes. Anyway, your post (and entire blog) has been really healing for me. I cant thank you enough.

hey im really glad to hear i could've helped you- you are literally the exact type of person im thinking about first and foremost when it comes to talking about why people should NOT assume a "cishet looking man" IS a cishet man.

i'm so sorry that people view you as a straight man just because you've had to return to the closet in the past, and now feel more comfortable identifying as butch. no one should force the idea that you're in a straight relationship on to you- you're not. it doesn't matter if someone has been out for 1 second or 10 years- a trans woman who "looks like a cishet man" is still a trans woman. why are people so willing to throw trans women who don't pass under the bus?

people just don't care about pre- and never transition trans women. people don't take the time to realize some trans women just do not want to transition. people don't take the time to care about trans women who already see their bodies as women's bodies and don't want to change anything about them. people don't give a shit about the fact that trans women have to boymode or go back into the closet for safety reasons. and people especially don't care about trans lesbians who are being assumed to be cishet men. this is what terfs do, can we stop doing this to our own?

like... this is all transmisogyny. does nobody on this planet care anymore that this behavior is transmisogynstic? like i'm happy to break it to everyone, but assuming every person you meet who looks a certain way is 100% without a doubt a cishet man is transmisogynistic. this is straight up erasing transfeminine experiences. policing people by their bodies and what queer spaces they can exist in is fascist behavior

i'm so sorry that you can't be out right now. you should NOT be facing this type of treatment from within your own community. i really can't stand people who assume every person they meet who looks a certain way is definitely 100% a cishet man. you literally just don't know by looking at a stranger. and especially with how dangerous it is to be out as a trans woman, why are we putting trans women through this? you shouldn't have to jump through hoops in the queer community in order to be seen as queer. plus, this behavior completely leaves out questioning transfems and women, like. transfems and women get to question, too. many trans women were men at one point and they shouldn't have to feel alienated for it.

i hope things improve for you soon- thanks for taking the time to send this message. if you need any more help feel free to come back any time, you deserve to feel like who you really are, and not who other people are assuming you are.

[cameronspecial]

Idea:

Rafe and Reader have sex at a party but they don’t know that Rafe’s ex is filming them.

The next day its leaked and everyone has seen the video.

They didn’t know until Sarah called Reader (angry) because nobody knew they were together.

Violation of Privacy

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: UNCONSENSUAL FILMING OF SEX (Not by Rafe) AND DISTRIBUTING IT

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.1K

A/N: I changed the plot a little. If this has happened to you, please know that this isn't your fault and that there are resources that can help you.

Masterlist

Rafe and Y/N exit his bedroom one after the other, looking around to make sure no one is around to see them together. He finishes buttoning up his shirt while she is running her fingers through her hair so it looks less of a mess. If anyone was watching, they would easily be able to see that the couple just had sex in the room. The secrecy of their activities in the bedroom isn’t because they are embarrassed about the act, but because their relationship itself is a secret. With one final sweep of the hallway, Y/N leans up to give Rafe a kiss on the lips before running off to her friends.

——

Y/N wakes up the next morning to the ringing of her phone. As soon as it stops, it starts up again to tell her that whoever is trying to reach her still wants to talk. Her hand darts out from under the warmth of her covers to grab her phone on the side table. She brings it to her ear, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “Hello,” she manages to croak out. Sarah lets out a sigh of relief, “Don’t open the mass text that you got this morning.” “What are you talking about? What mass texts?” Y/N questions. Despite her friend’s warning, she opens up her texts to see a group chat containing just about every Kook and Pogue near their age. Derogatory and disgustingly sexual texts from various males of the island are sprinkled in between texts defending an unknown she. Y/N keeps scrolling, ignoring the call of her name coming from her phone. The start of the conversation is finally in sight. She freezes at the thumbnail of the video; a familiar bedroom portrayed on her screen. She hesitates to press the play button, but there is a sick part of her that needs to confirm what she suspects. 

The room is still in the video for a few seconds before light is brought in through the opening of the door. As soon as her giggles reach her ears and Rafe kissing her neck comes into the frame, she throws the phone across the room. Who had recorded them?  Why would they want to invade their privacy by not only filming such an intimate activity but sharing it with people it did not belong to? The discomfort in her stomach grows tenfold and she has to run to the bathroom to stop herself from making a mess in her bedroom. 

She can hear the front door being opened and Rafe’s voice fills the air. “Beautiful, are you here?” She can’t call out to him, too busy emptying her stomach in the toilet. He finds her hunched over the toilet and rushes to her side. One hand forms a ponytail in her hair and the other rubs her back soothingly. “I’m guessing you saw the text,” he whispers, bringing his lips to her temple. She can merely let out a cry as she wipes the corner of her mouth and curls into his hold. She cries in silence for a moment, “I feel so violated. I don’t feel safe anymore. Rafe, who could’ve filmed us in your bedroom?” Rafe’s heart sighs a little, thanking the universe that she doesn’t suspect him because he has absolutely nothing to do about this. “I don’t know, Beautiful. But I’m going to find them and make them pay,” he promises to her. 

“I don’t care about revenge. I care about the fact that someone destroyed something that was supposed to be between us and made it into an object to be viewed by any asshole who wants to jerk off to it. I care about the fact that I don’t feel beautiful anymore because I’ve read all the horrid objectifying things people think about me.”

“Hey, look at me. Don’t ever doubt your beauty, Beautiful. Don’t let those pervs have that part of you that should feel like yours. You are beautiful in so many other ways than just your body. Why do you think it’s your nickname?”

She looks up to him with warmth in her heart, “What other ways am I beautiful?” “In your mind. In your heart. In your love for everyone around you. In everything you do. The people, who say those things about you, don’t know what true beauty is,” Rafe reassures the best that he can. He knows nothing can really placate what she is feeling. If she is feeling even half of what he is, the turmoil going on in his girlfriend’s mind would be categorized as the worst type of hurricane. What they are going through is worse for her because women are always crucified in these situations while men are praised. All Rafe wants to do is comfort his girlfriend, “What can I do to make you feel better?” “I want to go to the police about this. I know it won’t take the video back but at least the person who sent it will get their justice and hopefully, they won’t be able to do this to someone else,” she whispers. Rafe nods, “I’ll go get you some clothes.”

He stands up, giving her a kiss before going to her room to get a change of clothes. The whispers of her name calling from the phone catches his attention and he leans down to pick it up. “Sarah?” he questions. Sarah lets out a breath, “Rafe, where is she? Is she okay? I tried to tell her not to look. I didn’t even know you guys were dating. Nobody knew.” “That’s because it was a secret. It wouldn’t be a secret if everyone knew,” he states plainly into the phone. “And she’s doing as okay as anyone in this situation would be. She obviously feels horrible about it. Listen, I gotta go. We are going to go to the police station. Get down to the bottom of this.” With mumbled goodbyes, he hangs up the phone and gets Y/N’s clothes. 

——

At the station, the police take Rafe and Y/N’s statements and phones as evidence to track down the number who sent out the text. Rafe opens up the car door for her and rounds the car to the driver’s side once she is in. When he enters, tears are already streaming down her face. He pulls her over the center console into a hug to comfort her. “I know this is hard, but we are going to get through this together. I promise,” he vows to her, running his fingers through her hair. This whole mess feels like hell, but at least they have each other. 

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron

[luvismenu]

chap: 17 — see nobody else ✎ ,, index

warnings: rainy night, some crying, some confessions, bathing together, protected sex, kissing, some fluffy moments, they kinda TALK (finally yippee)

wc: 4.4k+

note: yeah you guys, it's the beginning of the end. thank you for sticking around with my mess, cuz idk why and how you guys still wait and read this fic omg..

'do you forgive us?'

those four words broke you.

for the first time in your life, you feel.. regretful, for pushing people away.

all your life, you convinced yourself that cutting ties with anyone who hurt you, or who disrupted the balance of your carefully crafted rules was the right thing to do.

you believed it was protecting you.

but now, standing here thinking about everything that's been going on, you’re not so sure anymore.

you try to recall the last time you allowed yourself to simply let go, to live in the moment even if it wasn’t what you deemed “right.” it’s hard to remember because, for as long as you can think, you’ve always had a plan. a script for how life should be, how people should act, and how relationships should work.

you wanted things to go your way, to stay within the lines you drew.

was that selfish of you? probably.

but was it wrong? again... you’re not sure anymore.

maybe the rules you created to protect yourself had also kept you caged, pushing away the very moments and people who could have brought you happiness. maybe in trying to control everything, you lost the chance to truly experience anything.

your throat tightens as you think about it more and more.

you couldn’t answer her.

you couldn’t answer anyone.

it was all too much.

were you scared? were you still clinging to some invisible shield, trying to protect yourself from everything and everyone? but then, as the questions swirled in your mind, one stuck out— how are you going to be okay by hurting others? how is this any different from being completely selfish?

how are you going to explain to everyone that you’ve been so caught up in your own head, so focused on your own fears, that you couldn’t bring yourself to talk or fix things?

the thought makes your chest ache.

you feel awful.

you want to cry.

you need to let it out.

maybe that’s why you’re out here, in the middle of the night, standing in the rain, drenched and shivering, holding onto your jacket hoping that it would give you some kind of warmth but it doesn't help.

you're just staring at jungkook’s door like it holds all the answers.

you want to apologize.

you want to tell him how stupid everything’s been, how sorry you are for running away, for shutting him out.

but fear grips you.

what if he doesn’t want to listen? what if it’s too late?

you stand there frozen.

should you ring the bell? should you talk to him?

is this the right thing to do?

. . .

jungkook can’t sleep.

how could he? his mind is a mess. it's all over the place right now.

he’s scared too, though he doesn’t show it. he's fucking terrified.

you’ve been avoiding the real conversation, the one that might finally clear the air between you. and that terrifies him. because what if your answer isn’t what he wants to hear? what if this wasn't the right thing to do?

but even with that fear clawing at him, he’s willing to try.

he’s not ready— not entirely, no. he doesn’t know if he ever will be, but the thought of letting you go so easily makes his stomach twist.

whatever it is he feels for you, whether it’s infatuation, like, love… he doesn’t care what it’s called. he just knows he needs you. he wants you in his life.

but wanting you scares him too.

what if he crossed a line without realizing it? what if he pushed too hard, selfishly trying to make you see things his way?

is it wrong for him to be so consumed by you? to wish, selfishly, that your world revolved around him the way his seems to revolve around you?

is it bad that he wishes you see nobody else except him?

he sighs, his fingers raking through his hair as he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the rhythmic patter of rain against the window. the sound fills the silence, but it brings no answers. he’s waiting.. waiting for clarity, for courage, for something to make sense. but nothing comes.

you ring the bell.

once.

twice.

your fingers tremble as you wait, the cold rain soaking through your clothes and biting into your skin. you're shivering now; not just from the chill, but from the vulnerability you feel standing here.

it's uncomfortable, exposing yourself like this, but how else are you going to fix things? how else can you make things right if you don't start somewhere?

the door swings open sooner than you'd expected, and jungkook appears, his face shifting from blank confusion to complete worry the second he sees you.

“___!” he says, his voice filled with concern as he steps forward, his hand reaching for you but faltering halfway. “come in,” he says quickly, stepping aside to let you in.

he doesn’t ask anything yet, though his mind is undoubtedly racing. all he sees is that you're drenched from head to toe; your hair sticking to your face, your clothes clinging to your body, and you look... guilty?

you step inside hesitantly, water dripping from your clothes and pooling onto the floor. you glance down, noticing the mess, but jungkook doesn’t even seem to notice that.

“you’re drenched,” he murmurs, closing the door behind you. “i’ll get you a towel and.. clothes, yeah... do you want to take a bath?” he sounds as calm as he can manage, but his concern is clear in every word.

you stare at him, your lips trembling. you don’t even know what to say.

“why didn’t you call me?” he asks, stepping closer, his eyes scanning you. “i would’ve picked you up.”

you stay silent, your breath hitching as his worried gaze pierces through you.

“are you okay, ___?” he asks again, his voice even gentler now, and that’s it.

that question, so simple yet filled with care.

it breaks you completely.

your chest tightens as a sob escapes your lips, tears spilling over before you can stop them. you lower your head, your sniffles turning into quiet cries, the pain in your throat unbearable as the emotions you’ve been bottling up come flooding out.

jungkook’s eyes widen, his face crumpling at the sight of your tears. instinctively, he reaches for you again, his arms lifting to pull you close. but before he can, you step forward and wrap your arms around his waist, holding onto him tightly.

you sob into his chest, and he holds you immediately, his arms wrapping around you. one hand on the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your wet hair, while the other presses firmly against your back. he doesn’t care that you’re soaking wet or that your tears are soaking through his shirt.

all he cares about is you being there with him. in his arms.

“___,” he whispers softly, his voice breaking slightly as he holds you closer. your sobs quieten, but the tears keep falling, each one tearing at his heart.

he pulls back just enough to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your wet cheeks, wiping away the tears that don’t seem to stop. “look at me,” he says gently, and you do, your tear streaked face making his heart ache.

“what’s wrong, babe? talk to me,” he pleads, his gaze searches yours, desperate for answers, desperate to understand.

your lip quivers as another sob escapes you. “i-i’m sorry,” you manage to choke out, your voice trembling.

he doesn’t ask you why. not yet, at least.

instead, he tilts his head slightly, his voice soft and steady as he asks, “would you like to take a hot bath?”

the question catches you off guard. you blink up at him, your eyes still tearful.

you don’t respond right away, unsure of what to say, but he doesn’t rush you. he strokes your cheek gently with his thumb, his hand warm against your cold, damp skin.

“you’re freezing,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “let's talk after i know that you're fully warmed up... okay?”

you nod weakly, your body too tired to resist. he guides you to the bathroom, his hand resting lightly on your back. you feel a twinge of embarrassment as water continues to drip from your clothes, leaving a trail on the floor, but jungkook doesn’t really seem to care.

once inside, he reaches for a clean towel and sets it on the counter before turning on the faucet. the sound of water filling the tub echoes softly in the room, the steam rising quickly as the water heats.

“give me your jacket,” he says quietly, turning to you with his hand outstretched.

you hesitate for a moment before takiing it off, your fingers fumbling slightly from the cold. he takes it from you without a word, setting it aside.

“i’ll step out and grab you some dry clothes,” he says, his voice still soft, still patient. “take your time, okay?”

but as he turns to leave, your voice cuts through the quiet. “wait.”

he stops immediately, his hand on the doorknob as he looks back at you.

“don’t go,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

his brows furrow slightly, concern etched across his face. “___,” he starts, “you’ll be more comfortable if you change out of these clothes and—”

“no,” you interrupt, your voice trembling but you're trying to keep it steady. you’re not sure why, but the thought of him leaving, even for a second, feels unbearable. “i just… i want you to stay.”

he stares at you for a moment, as if trying to figure out how serious you are. when he sees the look in your eyes, he sighs softly and steps back into the room.

“okay,” he says quietly, walking towards you.

you nod, your throat tightening as the emotions threaten to overwhelm you again.

he kneels beside the tub, his gaze soft as he looks up at you. “i'll stay,” he says gently. “is that okay?”

his voice is so soothing, so steady, that you find yourself nodding without hesitation. you trust him, and right now, that’s enough.

but before you can step in, you reach out and grab his wrist. “jungkook,” you say softly.

his eyes widen slightly in surprise. “what's wrong?”

you bite your lip, hesitant. “i don’t want to bath alone,” you admit quietly, your voice barely audible over the sound of running water.

he stares at you for a moment, processing your words, and then he gulps. “okay,”

your heart races as he begins unbuttoning his shirt, his movements careful and slow, as though giving you time to change your mind. when he takes it off and reaches for the hem of his pants, he pauses, glancing at you. “are you sure?” he asks softly, his dark eyes searching yours.

you start taking off your clothes too. “i’m sure,”

he steps into the tub, the warm water splashing slightly as he lowers himself into it. he looks at you again, his gaze never leaving you, and holds out his hand. “come here,” he says gently.

you hesitate for only a moment before moving to join him inthe tub. the warmth of the water feels like a soothing balm against your chilled skin, and you sink down slowly, settling in across from him.

for a moment, neither of you speak. the sound of the water and the faint patter of rain outside fills the silence.

“come closer,” jungkook says softly, breaking the quiet.

you hesitate again, but the look in his eyes is so earnest, so full of care, that you can’t resist. you shuffle forward until you’re within reach, and he gently pulls you into his lap.

his arms wrap around you, holding you close as the warmth of the water and his body seeps into yours. you breathe softly as you places your hands on his shoulders.

“better?” he asks, his voice a low murmur.

“yeah,” you whisper.

his hand moves slowly, soothingly, up and down your back, andfor the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself breathe.

the warmth of the water surrounds you, but it’s his presence that truly soothes you. his arms hold you securely.

you wonder if he’s nervous or if it’s something else entirely. his hand strokes your back slowly, his touch soft as though he’s afraid you might shatter if he isn’t careful.

jungkook’s heart is racing.

he’s never seen you like this. it shakes him because, in his mind, you’re always so in control. but now, here you are, letting him hold you, leaning on him like you trust him, and it’s enough to make his heart race.

he wonders if he’s doing this right. if holding you like this is enough to tell you everything he feels but can’t say. because the words are there. he just doesn’t know how to string them together without ruining this fragile moment.

your own thoughts are no less chaotic.

you think about how you’ve spent so much time pushing people away, building walls to keep you steady, but here he is, breaking through them without even trying. it scares you how much you need this. how much you need him.

you shift slightly in his lap, and you feel him tense for a moment before he relaxes again. you feel him against your core, firm and pressing, and the realization sends a shiver through you. a small gasp escapes your lips before you can stop it

“sorry,” you mumble quickly, your voice barely above a whisper, but the heat rushing to your face betrays you.

“no, it’s... it’s okay,” he says softly. he clears his throat, his grip on you loosening as though giving you space, but he doesn’t pull away entirely.

you don’t move either, unsure of what to do. the moment feels tense, like you’re both balancing on a thin line.

“___,” he says after a beat, his voice low and careful.

you look at him. “yeah?”

he hesitates, his dark eyes searching yours for something; permission, reassurance, maybe both. “i don’t... want you to feel uncomfortable,” he says finally.

you shake your head quickly, your hands tightening slightly on his shoulders. “i’m not,” you admit, and it’s the truth. despite the initial surprise, you don’t feel uncomfortable. if anything, you feel hyperaware; of him, of the closeness, of the heat building between you.

his gaze softens at your words, “are you sure?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper now.

you nod, your throat dry as you try to find the right words. “it’s just... a little overwhelming i guess,” you say honestly, your voice trembling slightly.

he exhales slowly, “yeah?” he murmurs, a small smile tugging at his lips. “tell me about it.”

the way he talks makes you feel a little braver, and you shift again. his breath hitches this time, and his hands move instinctively to steady you, gripping your waist gently.

“sorry,” you mumble again, though you’re not entirely sure what you’re apologizing for.

“don’t be,” he swallows hard, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. “just... let me know if it’s too much, okay?”

you nod again, your heart pounding in your chest. neither of you move for a while. the tension is lingering but it's not unpleasant, no. it's not even close to that.

“jungkook,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the gentle slosh of water.

“yeah?” he murmurs, his voice low

you pause, trying to gather your thoughts. “i want to talk” you say finally

he looks into yiur eyes, a small smile creeping up his lips. “we are talking, aren't we?”

“no... i mean, yes but i want to talk about us,” you say, and you see his expression change to.. surprise? confusion?

“really?,” he asks softly. “a-are you sure?”

“yes.. you-” you sigh. “you make me feel like it’s okay,” you admit quietly. “like... like it’s okay to not have everything figured out.”

he exhales a soft laugh. “that’s because it is okay,” he says. “nobody has everything figured out, ___.”

you smile a little. “you always seem like you do,”

he shakes his head, “i don’t,” he admits. “i’m just good at pretending.”

“yeah you are,” you smile.

he smiles too. his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer, and you don't resist. instead, you melt into him, like you always do.

the kiss is soft but intense, as if he's trying to tell you everything he can't put into words. your hands move instinctively to his hair, fingers threading through the damp strands, tugging gently. his grip on your waist firms, anchoring you to him, as though he's afraid you might slip away.

but you’re not going anywhere.

your bodies press together, and you can feel him, hard against your core. the feeling pulls a quiet whimper from you, your breath hitching against his mouth.

“jungkook...” you murmur, your lips barely parting from his.

he pulls back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours.

“i know,” he whispers, his hand moves to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as though to reassure you. “we don’t have to rush, ___.”

something about the way he says it, the way his gaze is on you, tells you that he’s willing to give you anything, everything, if you ask for it.

. . .

you’re both out of the bath now. jungkook carried you to his bedroom, and for some reason, it wasn’t awkward at all. it felt.. normal.

you’re lying on his bed, and he’s on top of you, his weight hovering just enough to keep you comfortable. he tears open the condom wrapper, sliding it over his length with ease, his eyes never leaving yours.

he leans down, pressing soft kisses along your neck and chest, his fingers grazing your skin gently.

“i’m here to talk, not... this,” you breathe out, a small, half hearted smile tugging at your lips. the way you say it isn’t convincing though, and he can tell.

he pauses, pulling back slightly to look at you. “you want me to stop then?” his voice is soft, his gaze steady as he searches your face for any sign of hesitation.

“no,” you admit quietl

he doesn’t say anything more, leaning down to kiss you again.

his hand moves lower, positioning himself at your entrance. you exhale softly, your body already anticipating the stretch as he pushes in slowly. your eyes flutter shut as you moan at the feeling, the familiar feeling of pleasure and fullness making you lose yourself in the moment.

jungkook groans above you, his brows furrowing as he begins to move, his thrusts slow.

this wasn’t what you’d planned when you came here. you wanted to talk, to tell him everything you’ve been holding in. to admit how much he means to you, even if it terrifies you. but now, with him like this, you realize that he makes you feel safer than anyone else ever has. and if that’s not love, then you don't know what is.

wait. did you just think...

“f-fuck baby,”

he groans as his thrusts deepen, dragging another moan from your lips. he leans back slightly, his hands gripping your waist as he lifts you onto his lap, settling you there with him still inside.

“come here,” he murmurs, his voice low and breathless.

your legs wrap around his waist instinctively as he thrusts upward. your hands find his shoulders, holding onto him as your body adjusts to this new position.

“mmph... jungkook,” you gasp, your voice trembling.

his hands steady you, his fingers pressing into your waist as he moves. it feels so good that it’s almost overwhelming.

“i’m sorry,” you blurt out suddenly, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’m sorry for avoiding you...”

he doesn’t stop, but his lips find your neck, pressing a soft kiss there. “i’m sorry too,” he murmurs against your skin, his breath warm.

he looks up at you then, his movements slowing slightly as his eyes meet yours.

“i—” you start, but he cuts you off with a kiss. you melt into it, letting him take over as his thrusts pick up speed again, each one hitting the perfect spot that has you crying out his name.

“not yet,” he whispers against your lips, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he keeps going, his pace quickening. the sounds of skin against skin and your soft moans fill the room, mingling with the occasional deep groans from him.

“jungkook,” you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders as the pleasure builds, overwhelming and all consuming. your mind is a haze of him; his hands, his lips, his voice.

“baby, you areso good,” he murmurs against your neck, his lips trail kisses along your collarbone, leaving you breathless.

and then, before you can think, the words spill out of you.

“i love you.”

everything stills for a moment, his movements falter, his eyes snapping to yours, wide and filled with something you can’t quite place.

but he doesn’t stop.

instead, he presses his forehead to yours, his thrusts resuming, slower but deeper, his gaze never leaving yours. “and i love you,” he says softly

the tension in your body reaches its peak, the pleasure too much to contain. you cry out his name again as you come undone, your body trembling in his hold. he follows seconds later, groaning deeply as he finds his release, his grip on you tightening as he buries himself to the hilt.

you collapse against him, both of you panting and spent, the room filled with the sound of your heavy breathing. his arms wrap around you, holding you close as you both come down from the high.

after a moment, he breaks the silence. “i think we should take a bath again.”

you let out a tired laugh, leaning your head against his shoulder. “yeah, we should.”

the next morning, you woke up to the soft warmth of jungkook’s bedsheets around you. it was peaceful, quiet— almost too good to be true.

you made your way into the kitchen, where jungkook was already sipping on a cup of coffee. you walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist in a soft embrace. he let out a quiet chuckle, his free hand resting gently on yours.

“good morning,” you whispered, burying your face on his bare back.

“good morning,” he replied, taking another sip of his coffee. “sleep well?”

“yeah,” you murmured, “better than i have in a long time, actually.”

he smiled, the moment lingered for a bit, both of you just enjoying the silence until you spoke again.

“can i tell u something?” you started, your voice hesitant. he set his coffee down and turned to face you, waiting for you to continue.

you took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. “my mom.. she asked me if i would forgive them.” you paused, trying to find the right words. you see the way he softens, like he feels bad for you. “and it really messed with me. because this isn’t how things were supposed to go, you know? i always thought i’d be strong, but.. then it made me realize... i don’t know. maybe i was holding on to something that wasn’t meant to be.”

he reaches for your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “it's okay, you’ve been through a lot,” he says quietly

you exhale softly. “and i always had these rules, these boundaries that i put up to.. I don't know, i just felt like it was the right thing to do. but now, looking back, it all just feels... stupid. and i’m sorry for being so stubborn.” your voice cracks slightly, but you push through. "but then, when i saw you with someone else... i immediately assumed the worst, and i was so jealous. it was so stupid. and then i started this mess with jason, and i know that was wrong. i am sorry that everything has just been so fucking messy.”

you pause, meeting his eyes. “and i want to fix it. i just... i don’t know how. but i want to try...” you pause. there is a long silence as jungkook processes everything you’d said. he looks serious, but not the harsh kind of serious. and finally, he speaks.

“honestly..” he starts. “i think you have commitment issues,” he said, surprising you. your eyes widened, and you took a step back, trying to process what he meant.

“w-what?” you stammered.

his gaze softens, reaching for your arm. “i understand though. you’ve never really had anyone to be committed to, have you?”

that's kinda true.

“you were just trying to protect yourself. and i get that.” he continues.

“i have to apologise too because well, i was jealous too and i’m sorry for going along with the whole ‘mia’ thing. that was messy, yes. but i do get it.”

you look at him. “you... you understand?”

“yeah,” he nods, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “i do. i can see now that it scares you to commit because of everything you’ve been through. and i am sorry for putting you in a position like that.” he pauses. "but.. i’m not going anywhere. not now. not after everything we’ve been through.”

you let out a breath, your shoulders relaxing. “i really want to try,” you say, your voice softer now. “i really really do. i just... don’t know where to start.”

he smiles, pulling you into his arms again. “we’ll figure it out, together.”

you rest your head against his chest, feeling his warmth. “you know... you’re the first person to make me feel like... this. i never thought i’d be able to trust anyone like this. i must really like you,”

“oh? wasn’t it ‘i love you’?” he teases, a playful grin spreading across his face.

you laugh, pushing him away lightly. “you said it too!” you tease back, feeling lighter than you had in a long time.

he pulls you back into him, kissing your forehead gently. “i know. i meant it.”

you chuckle softly.

“i did too.”

📜 series taglist: @deepikhaprakash @rjooniesdimples @wombatkitten127 @minaateez @myjungkookthighs

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[bishopsbeloved]

bad idea!

kate bishop x fem reader

No matter how much of a bad idea it may seem to go back to Kate Bishop, you can’t help it. You’re like a moth to a flame

inspired by a girl in red song, mentions of sex but no actual smut, fwb/ex gf kate, dumb lesbians, kind of just a drabble icl, 1.1k words

NOTE: my requests are open!!!!! send me anything you’d like!!!!!! i can’t guarantee i’ll get it done but you’re welcome to send things in🫶

It was such a bad idea to get involved with Kate Bishop again.

It’s so stupid that this even happened. Every fucking time things end between you you’re resolute in your position, you’re determined that this will truly be the end, but Kate Bishop has this way of drawing people back in. You’ve fallen victim to her strange unspeakable allure more times than you can count. That’s how you ended up here in the first place.

Yes, okay, fine, she’s good at sex. When she sends a you up? text you can’t help the way your heart beats a little faster at the thought of the chase resuming between the two of you, of cat and mouse returning to flirtatious antics with one inevitable end. No matter how many times you try to escape it, you and Kate Bishop always seem to find your way back to one another, only to sourly part again and leave you even more lost than you were before. You don’t know what to do. You can’t fucking stand her. You can’t get away from her. You’re not sure you want to.

Nobody else has ever touched you in the way she does, or as well as she can. No matter how much you pretend otherwise she is the one you crave; she’s the one on your mind whilst the hands of others roam your body. You have this deep, innate, carnal need for her — for everything about her — not just her fingers and her tongue and her strap but also her whiny raspy voice first thing in the morning (she, annoyingly adorably, hates mornings) and the sloppy neck kisses she delivers to say goodnight and the kind of sheepish shifty look whenever she brings you a token of her love. The latter doesn’t happen much anymore, not since the two of you broke up — since she dumped you — which on paper ought to mean the two of you no longer see each other. And yet more nights than not one of you has crawled back to and somehow ended up in the other’s bed. It seems you’re both full of bad ideas, and yet neither of you can get enough.

When you wake up in her room again, the purple wallpaper adorned with medals and trophies and Hawkeye posters all too familiar by this point, that feeling of heaviness settles in your stomach. For fuck’s sake. You’re always disappointed in yourself, the morning after. There’s a reason the two of you aren’t together anymore — so why do you keep waking up in each other’s beds?

You look down at where Kate Bishop is nestled against your chest, still bare-skinned against you after last night’s activities. It’s irritating how beautiful she is even when she’s asleep. She looks so lovely in your arms you can almost imagine that being your reality again, until you harshly remind yourself Kate doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want you like that, she broke up with you and the only reason she sees you anymore is for sex. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, it makes your stomach turn, and suddenly you want nothing more than to be away from her.

Crawling out of Kate’s bed when she’s wrapped herself around you like this is never easy. Perhaps in unconsciousness, in her most vulnerable state, she’s more reluctant to let you go. Sometimes you feel a little guilty leaving before she wakes so often, but you have to, for your own good — for the good of both of you. When you’re not fucking you don’t really know what to say to her. Hey, you were the love of my life, why’d you dump my ass? No thanks. She has these big blue puppy-dog eyes that just make you feel horrible about the whole thing, and everything you’ve ever done, ever. No, you’re better off leaving now.

“You’re leaving,” says a small, scratchy voice from behind you, as you stumble about in the half-dark of the room locating your clothing. It’s a statement, not a question, but she still doesn’t sound entirely certain.

You don’t really know how to respond, you’re kind of wishing this wasn’t happening and rushing to find your other sock so you can get out of here, so you just let out a kind of low grunt of acknowledgement.

“You always leave,” Kate responds, and you don’t have to turn around to know that she’s pouting a little. You can hear it in her voice. The fact you can tell, that you know her well enough to tell only pisses you off even further, and you let out a kind of bitter laugh.

“It’s not like you fucking want me here.”

“That’s not true.” She pauses, and you hear the little noises she makes as she sits up and stretches. “I do want you here. I keep bringing you back, don’t I?”

“Yeah, cause a good fuck is all I’m worth to you,” you say angrily, before closing your eyes and tilting your head back. No. You can’t let her ass ruin your day when you have so much shit to do.

“No, that’s not true,” she tries, whilst at the same time you groan “I can’t do this, Kate.”

She sits up a little straighter, eyes wide, voice an octave higher. “W— what? Can’t do what?”

“I can’t do you.”

“But I— you keep— you keep coming back, though.”

This hits a nerve, and you laugh incredulously, finally turning around to face her. She’s looking up at you in the semi-darkness of the room, her face unreadable. “Yeah, and I shouldn’t. It’s fucking pathetic. I can’t get over my ex so I’ll sleep with her whenever she asks. It’s not— it’s— Kate, I can’t keep doing this.” You bury your head in your hands.

Vaguely, you hear the gentle rustle of fabric in Kate’s side of the room. You just need a moment to collect yourself and you’ll get the fuck out of here.

You hear her footsteps padding towards you, and you open your eyes again. She’s haphazardly tugged on a shirt and is stood before you, bare-legged, almost doleful in expression. “I’m sorry,” she says, barely a whisper. “This is all— I keep fucking up. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know what you want from me,” you say tiredly.

“I— I don’t know. Everything. You.” She steps towards you uncertainly.

“Kate,” you say, and you’re not sure who moved first, but within moments her lips are on yours again. When she tugs you back towards the bed, you let her, your stomach churning with the indescribable sensation of simultaneous adoration and angst that her touch fills you with. She’s so pretty it actually physically hurts.

God, you’re totally fucked.

[maxwell-grant]

HEROFY: Annhilus.

A weird thing about where Annihilus stands nowadays is that, his original defining motivation was a complete and total fear of death, right? He was completely obsessed with preserving his own life to the extent of angling to murder everything else in the universe just so that nothing could ever possibly threaten his life ever again. But then after his major stint as a big bad in Annihilation and I think starting in Hickman Fantastic Four, he is instead defined as someone who is wholly incapable of dying (not just him, but everyone from the Negative Zone apparently) and who even actively wants it, still obsessed with death and slaughter but in an almost directly opposite way from his previous reason for it. Honestly, I love both approaches, I love Annihilus in general he's a very easy cosmic monster to love if nothing else because of the design, it's just it doesn't seem like they've ever conciliated these wildly different motivations. That's where I'd start, I think. Conciliating these two together.

Annihilus as a mutant spore who emerges near-fully formed as the first intelligent being born in the Negative Zone, completely incapable of getting answers to his existence and dealing with the creatures around him that keep trying to attack and hurt him, until this little nerdy cockroach stumbles on an alien spaceship and is brain-blasted with all the knowledge of his creators turning him into a near-immortal powerful new being who goes on to create new lifeforms, essentially ruling the primordial Negative Zone by default. Not out of any desire for conquest, but because it's the safest place to be, he figures. He doesn't yet know what it's like to want things, he is just fiercely obsessed with protecting himself from injury and death as a remaining defining primal instinct and so he creates the Cosmic Control Rod as essentially just a tool to protect him via combat, and then the Fantastic Four steal the rod from him.

They give it back after they're done with it, but in subsequent excursions to Earth, he learns what they were using it for. Over early attempts to attack this planet and the people that invaded his home the first time, so they may never invade again and never endanger him again, he learns what it feels like to die and come back. It feels nice. It feels good. It feeelssss sssssweet, ssssweeet death that brings resssurection. His greatest fear comes true and it's the first time he discovers joy. He learns that, not only is he immortal, but he has ways to prolong or save the lives of others. Death isn't scary at all, in fact it only made him stronger. He doesn't even need the rod anymore, it's basically just an Excalibur at this point to determine who rules the Zone. Hero Annihilus is driven thus by a desire to simply let everyone else in the universe join in on how awesome it is to live in the Negative Zone with him in charge, because on your boring mudball, you die, but in the Negative Zone, you can live.

It might take a few tries to convince him that the rest of the universe very much cannot come back from dying and very much does not share his enthusiasm about death and resurrection, but that in turn further drives him to share it. He will step up to prevent multiverse destroying catastrophes and refrain from murdering people not in his jurisdiction, but really, if everyone was in the Negative Zone, being slaughtered would just be a fun time that improves your life when you get it back. Skill issue on everyone else's part. The Negative Zone is great, guys, nobody has to die in it! His worms can bring you back everytime, if you don't just outright morph into something that molts and revives itself, like he did! We got trillions of bugs and technology and gladiator sports and tons of squirrels ever since Squirrel Girl's clone moved in, and if it's good enough for her it's definitely good enough for you.

There's at least 14 trillion and counting Negative Zoners already of the opinion that Annihilus is great and awesome and should rule everything forever, so democratically speaking, he's already a hero to more beings than the vast majority of Earth superheroes.

[chaifootsteps]

OMG the scene where Charlie baby talked to Baxter irked me SO bad! Like what are you doing?!? Youre a grown ass adult talking to another grown ass adult, you dont talk to people you just met like that EVER!

Like what was the point of the scene?? To be funny? Cause it isnt, there is no joke, punchline, nothing, its just Charlie being rude to a random stranger that she just met.

Was it to make Charlie look like an "adorkable kawaii potato that LOVES cute little things :3"? Then someone tell Vivziepop that it isnt 2014 anymore and nobody likes these characters, epecially when theyre ADULTS, theyre just really fucking annoying.

This is why i hate the Show's Charlie, they try to sell her as if she is oh-so-nice and the most kind person in the world that CARES about others issue's when she is actually a priviliged bitch that thinks she has the solution to every problem in the world when she doesnt understand shit about other's people's situation nor cares enough to listen to them.

She reminds me to these internet e-celebrities that build their whole image on being wholesome and sweet but then when theyre asked to talk about some societal problem they decilne because "sowy i dont want to bring politics to my channel :3 xoxo".

It would have been interesting if she was written this way on PURPORSE. Like at first her being a naive, rich, priviliged princess that never faced any real problems and thats why she is sure that she can easily solve other's problems by doing what she says, and as the show progresses she starts learning to LISTEN to other's explaining their situation and why the solutions arent as simple as what she was made to belive growing up privileged.

But since Vivziepop lacks any self awareness the show tries to convice us that her ways are the correct ones, and that everyone should do as she says in order to fix everything and that her acting like an ignorant asshole to thers its ok because its "cute :3".

Maybe im just exagerating because im a short person with a baby face who got treated a similar way Charlie talked to Baxter by other adults, and i dont think i need to clarify you should definetely NOT do that to other people like that, like how do people not realize its rude as shit.

Its embarassing how upset i got at this, i hope this show gets cancelled as soon as posible.

Yeah, that was pretty vile. It was that unbearable scene where she forced them to play rhyme-and-clap games all over again, and that other unbearable scene where her idea of redeeming them was putting them in stupid outfits and having them read from scripts.

I hate series Charlie so much.