#not that It's All Over But The Crying is bad

[bepisbee]

no fr i got this a few times and never reached out again. im sure it was also my mothers gaslighting my behavior i found out uears after i wasnt just a special kid good enough for attention tm that i was allowed in the x special kids room" as tbey callled it when i was a kid where the counslers watched and analyzed behavior.

im no contact now.

I used to get threatened like that all the time. Keep it up and i'll give you something to really cry about, if you want a roof over your head youll do x, go ahead and call cops theyll take you away and then youll get molested or killed, why sould anyone else care about you, you should be happy i dont beat you like my mother, and the countless times i was screamed at i had 24 hours to get out since 16+ and then when i tried acted like it never happened and it was never said. I had a panic attack so bad once i passed out on the floor and she refused to get my inhaler. she shut my door and told everyone i was having a tantrum. i was 21.

beleive kids always. please.

Adult ProTip, from a security professional: If a kid tells you, "My parents are gonna kill me / kick my ass / kick me out" for something relatively minor, don't respond with shit like "Really? ;) that sounds a little extreme, don't you think sweetie?" because that shit really does happen.

Instead, respond as though whatever threat they are afraid of is fully valid, and offer whatever you can do to help- ask if they believe they are in danger of being hurt in any way, and work accordingly.

If they're overreacting, they'll usually realize and dial it back, self-correct and begin thinking a bit more rationally.

If they're not overreacting, and the danger is real, then they'll need a level-headed adult in their corner, not another condescending authority figure who doesn't believe them.

[rikosseen]

Gun x Reader: Family

@live-laugh-die006 - A little different from the others ;p

There’s a small fluttering movement that courses through Jonggun’s chest. It makes him twitch. Makes him squirm. Makes him nervous. It’s not unwelcome, however. It’s not a bad feeling at all.

His lips press into a thin line, and his eyes glaze over your sleeping figure before it shifts back down at the small, crying, little thing in his arms.

“Shh,” he coos groggily.

For a time, Gun had been avoiding the infant, disregarding the child’s presence here and there, trying to make the most minimal contact with the baby as possible. The whole concept of family is so utterly foreign to him, and he doesn’t know how to go about it; the tenderness within the household feels overwhelmingly alien to someone like him.

You said-—reassured him that everything would fall into place. But as he’s cradling the little thing in his arms, he feels conflicted, overstimulated, and uncertain. For the first time in his life, he feels somewhat terrified. Terrified at what he might do-—the danger and pain that he might inflict.

As his eyes meet the infant’s, he’s transported to his youth in Japan, to the shadows of his past within the syndicate, and the absence of care he received as a small child. He wonders if the cycle will repeat itself-—how could someone who was never nurtured tenderly offer any such care to another? Jonggun’s head spirals as he contemplates if you’ve ever thought of him as a burden, considering he’s never truly done anything substantial. But the thought ventures too far from his current sanity, and he immediately feels guilty for the doubt.

Fool.

You’re stupid for staying by his side. For wanting this.

The child hiccups, its cries subsiding as Gun continues to rock back and forth, allowing his mind to sink deeper into muddled, tangled strings.

.

The nights repeat themselves, and Jonggun finds himself picking up the crying baby for what seems like the fifth time. Heavy lidded, he pats the child’s back before stopping momentarily to shake off the tired. The baby cries louder, and you stir in your sleep. Gun grunts at this, and trudges around to soothe the infant.

“Needy, aren’t you?” He grumbles, holding the small figure close to his chest.

As he looks down to check on the child, it nestles its face into him. Jonggun’s fingers twitch involuntarily as the cries continue. What on Earth is the issue-?

Sniff

Oh.

Softly sighing, Gun reaches out to grab a clean diaper from inside a cabinet, his hands working quickly and efficiently to clean up his baby’s mess. The cries gradually fade, allowing steady, deep breaths from both you and the little one to fill the room. After gently placing the child down in its cot, Jonggun turns around to join you in bed again. Before he can walk off, however, small fingers wrap around his one large index. Gun freezes and looks down at the unexpected contact, his usual stern expression suddenly faltering. The uninvited fluttering feeling in his chest stirs, and the man stands rooted in place for a good few minutes. Reluctantly, and with another grunt, he sits on the ground next to the crib, resting his head on its wooden frame.

As sleep envelops him, Jonggun considers being the different Shingen this time.

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑾𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔*

Pairing: Minho x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Fluff (tiny tiny angst)

Warnings: Nothing really? Just mooshy yapping. Minho is just bad with his words. Sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings

A/N: this came out a little shorter than I wanted but I think it’s still cute.

This Request had prompts from my second prompt list: 17.) “I’m not blushing, I’m just hot” 29.) “That’s not what I said”

-🖤

Hand in hand walking down the side walk with your boyfriend. He stopped at your favorite ice cram place on your walk trying to find a nice place to sit. You both talked as you ate your ice cream, you could see he had something on his mind though. You didn’t wanna pry at least not yet. As the night air started to get colder and it started to get later as you kept talking.

You loved these nights, the nights he was all yours where you could spend time with him. These nights were those from movies where it just felt like the two of you. “Y/n you know I like you a lot right?” He said softly braking the calm silence.

“Yeah” you said with a little giggle.

“Well I- I-“ he stuttered out he wouldn’t look at you making you feel your heart drop a small bit. Oh. Oh no.. was he about to dump you? Did he bring you out here to break up with you?

“I just- uugh I don’t know how to say this” he said getting up he paced a small bit still not looking at you. He was frustrated, he wasn’t the best at words and especially right now when they weren’t coming out properly. He had this all planned out words he kept repeating so he wouldn’t get it wrong. And here he was. Messing it up.

“Y/n I don’t like you” he blurted out his words making his eyes go wide. What? He literally just said he liked you? What was happening? You felt your heart just shatter, hanging your head down feeling the tears prick at your eyes.

“Just do it, break up with me, just get it over with” you stuttered out as the tears started to fall.

He was frantic, he sat down below you trying to calm you down. “That’s not what I said- I mean I did say that but I didn’t mean it like that-“ he babbled out. All the words that were floating around his head but none could come out properly, nothing would come out.

“What else could you mean minho? You said it- you don’t like me” you said trying to wipe your eyes choking back anymore tears. You got up quickly trying to walk away before he grabbed ahold of you. Pulling you to his chest wrapping his arms around you. He held onto you tightly feeling like you were floating away from him. Seeing you cry his heart was breaking from his own bad choice of words.

“No no no please wait I didn’t mean it like that, y/n I fuck y/n I love you- I don’t like you I love you-“ he choked out feeling like he was gonna cry himself. “I’m sorry I- I’m so bad at this I’ve-“ he started.

You smacked his arm “you need to work on your choice of words asshole” you said with a frown.

“I know I know I’m sorry, I just- I wanted to make it perfect I had a whole thing I wanted to say and try and be cute and I fucked it up. Please I’m sorry for making you cry” his words coming out fast and mumbled.

He clung onto you holding you tightly “I just really love you” he breathed out. “I’ve never felt like I could say those words to anyone besides friend and family but you came and- y/n I love you I’m sorry I’m dumb” he said looking up at you with a small tear falling.

“I love you too dummy” you said softly wiping his tear away his head leaning into your touch.

“I’m sorry for messing-“ he started to say before you cut him off.

“Stop apologizing it’s ok, I know it’s hard for you to get your words out especially for something like this” you said sweetly. Thumb rubbing against his cheek your eyes looking at him fondly. “Something I love about you is I know when you finally get the words out is that I know you thought about them carefully, trying to get it perfect”

“So you really love me too?” He said softly.

“Minho, I’ve wanted to say it for so long, yes. I love you. I love you so much. You make me so happy” you say with a warm smile. Seeing you smile made his aching heart melt now. He loved that smile.

His face starts heating up turning all shades of red and pink. You’ve never seen him blush so much and you couldn’t help but giggle “ooh I got you all blushy, look at how red you are” you teased.

“I’m not- I’m not blushing- it’s just really hot out here” he said pouting a bit.

“Min it’s cold out here nice try” you said with another giggle.

“I take back what I said you’re a bully” he said still pouting.

“Nope, Minho loves me! You can’t take it back.” You teased more.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck holding onto you somehow even tighter. “I couldn’t take it back even if I tried, I love you.. I love you a lot y/n so much it scares me” he admit.

“Well don’t be scared cause I feel the same way, and you’re not getting rid of me that easy” you said kissing his head.

“Good” he said softly.

“Now let’s go get another ice cream?” You said making him laugh.

“Fine, I guess you deserve another one after I made you cry”

“Definitely and I think I deserve a kiss too”

He smiled leaning up to kiss you lovingly. “Mm even sweeter than the ice cream” you said with almost heart eyes. His face turning that same reddish again.

God did he love you, he loved everything about you. He’d make it up to you, think of the perfect date to ‘retry’. He needed to make it perfect to show you how much he loved you.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan n @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget

[p0orbaby]

Lia wälti x surgeon reader , reader gets home after an exhausting day at work where she lost two patients as well as being over worked. All she wants is to crawl up and cry but Lia helps her by cute little gestures

TW: brief mentions of death

-

You’re exhausted. No, beyond exhausted. The kind of exhaustion that lives in your bones, in the tender ache behind your eyes, in the weight of your limbs as you drag yourself up the stairs to your flat. It’s been a brutal day. Two patients lost on the table, back-to-back surgeries, and a surgeon’s lounge that ran out of coffee by noon. You’re too tired to even feel angry about that last part, which, on any other day, would’ve been unforgivable.

All you want is to collapse onto the sofa, bury your face in a pillow, and let the weight of the day crush you into oblivion. You unlock the door, barely managing to toe off your shoes before Lia appears in the hallway.

“Hi, love,” she says, her voice soft, careful. She’s in joggers and an old hoodie, her hair up in a messy bun. She looks like the epitome of calm, a far cry from the tornado of chaos you feel inside.

“Hi,” you mumble, not trusting yourself to say more without crying.

Her eyes scan your face, taking in the dark circles, the droop of your shoulders, the way your scrubs are wrinkled like you’ve been wearing them for days (you basically have). “Bad day?”

You nod, biting your lip to keep it from trembling.

She steps closer, gently prying your bag from your hands and setting it down. “Okay,” she says, in that steady, grounding way of hers. “Shower first. Then food. Then we’ll talk, if you want”

You don’t argue. You don’t have the energy. She nudges you towards the bathroom, and you let her.

The hot water does wonders, even if it doesn’t fix everything. When you finally emerge, wrapped in one of the ridiculously fluffy towels Lia insisted on buying, she’s waiting with a plate of toast. Not a gourmet meal, but toast. Buttered just the way you like it. It’s the perfect balance of effort and comfort.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want a full meal,” she says, handing you the plate. “But I figured this was safe”

You nod, taking a bite and almost sighing at how good it tastes. Toast shouldn’t be this emotional, but here you are.

Lia settles next to you on the sofa, her hand resting lightly on your knee. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asks gently.

You shake your head, swallowing another bite. “Not yet”

“Okay.” She doesn’t push.

Instead, she leans over to the coffee table and picks up the remote. “I queued up your favourite episodes of Bake Off,” she says, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Figured you could use something soothing”

“Mary Berry era?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow.

“Of course. I’m not a heathen”

That gets a small laugh out of you, which feels like a victory. She hits play, and for the next hour, you sit together, watching Paul Hollywood destroy the hopes and dreams of amateur bakers.

At some point, she tucks you under her arm, her fingers threading through your damp hair. “You’re allowed to feel it, you know,” she murmurs. “The bad days. The losses. It doesn’t make you weak”

You nod against her chest, tears slipping out despite your best efforts. “I just feel like I should’ve done more”

“You did everything you could,” she says firmly, her voice steady like she’s anchoring you to reality. “And you’ll keep doing everything you can. That’s why you’re incredible”

You don’t say anything, but you curl closer, letting her warmth seep into you. For the first time all day, you feel a little lighter.

Later, as you drift off against her shoulder, she whispers, “Tomorrow will be better. But tonight, you’re mine”

[revelboo]

There’s still some time on the poll, but you guys pushed me over 1000 last night apparently. Star/Sounders was leading with Metroplex in second, and Megs in third. As promised, I’ll write something more polished as a thank you.

But I’m doing all three. I’m just slower writing like this, so bear with me. 18+ mass displaced mechs 🌶️

Everything is Alright Pt 63- extended cut

Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

Frame curled around you, Soundwave presses his cheek against yours. He curls his arm around you, palm splayed on your belly as he braces himself on the other. Just savoring the intimacy of this moment twisting about his spark to softly chain him and knowing he’s completely lost to you, just an impossible, little organic who’s so tangled in his spark there’s no going back. Losing himself in the feel of you, the quicksilver brightness of your emotions and thoughts washing over him, pulling him under. Because like this? Everything’s clearer, less murky and confused as if there were walls up against him before and they’re gone.

And he wants to tangle himself more firmly in you, frame, spark, and processor. Reaching for those memories that he’s been denied and cradling them to himself. Lips brushing your throat and tasting salt, then trailing up to just behind the shell of your ear, he feels when you sense him in your mind. Your trepidation singing through him as you whimper and he gathers you to him, wrapping himself around every part of you. Soothing away the uncertainty and whispering into your mind that you’re safe, he has you. He’ll always have you. “Little one,” he murmurs affectionately, forgetting that you’re not alone. That Starscream is watching, because right now there’s only you. The feel of your body warm and soft against his, his spike pulsing inside you still, the warm brightness of your mind tangling in his, and spilling into his spark. Wanting that final wall torn down. Needing to bind you so tightly to him he won’t know where you begin and he ends.

Head lifting to find the Seeker watching, his frame tense as his wings lift aggressively, he knows that line isn’t one he can cross just yet. Needing to feel the brightness of you touch his spark. To claim all of you as his, but not until you’re more comfortable with him. No, not only him, but Starscream. He’s so overwhelmed with you, he can’t shut out the Seeker’s thoughts. That vulnerability he tries so hard to hide and under it all, a fear so visceral it’s dangerously close to madness. Understanding that it’s you keeping Starscream level now, slowly healing scars Soundwave wasn’t even aware the SIC had. And it’s hard to trespass in the Seeker’s thoughts and still resent him even though he wants to.

Shivering as Soundwave’s servos flex against you where he’s supporting you, there’s a sense of being wrapped up and held that has nothing to do with his warm frame draped against you. He’s heat and warmth in your head, feeling him as his mind brushes yours, pouring through your defenses. Star has never done this to you and it should feel like an invasion as he tugs at you. Seeing everything. Petty little hates, first loves, your best moments and your worst. And not pushing you away, just accepting the good and the bad, cradling you. And when he rocks himself against you, that spike stroking inside you so slowly you feel every ridge, every bump, there’s no hesitation. “Please,” you whisper, eyes down, because you’re so full of Soundwave, he’s so tangled in you, you just can’t meet Starscream’s optics.

His mouth brushes your neck as he thrusts against you. Growling softly in Cybertronian again, but in your head, his voice is a deep growl. He has you. He sees you. You’re his. There’s no guilt about how good he feels inside you, that spike driving deep again and again, his hips pumping against you with wet sounds. There’s only him and you, his venting growls and your soft cries and gasps as he claims you. Your orgasm shredding you apart as you cry out and he keeps thrusting even as you tighten on him. Dragging it out, in almost frantic drives of his hips before he’s shuddering against you, burying himself deep. Hips rocking against you as he fills you and his lips brush the curve of your ear, your jaw, and neck as his mind curls about yours, feeling his pleasure as a warm rush.

Breathing raggedly, you finally lift your head to find Starscream staring at you. There’s that sly smile on his lips you’re so used to, but it’s wrong. Tense and almost manic, his optics lifting to your eyes and trapping you. There’s fear there under that indifference, you know it because you’ve seen him break wide open before. Knows he doesn’t like this, probably hates sharing you. But he’d done it for you, to protect you. Sacrificing his own happiness. Pressing a kiss against your throat as he senses the direction of your thoughts, Soundwave slips out of you and you can feel his excess trailing down your thighs.

Self conscious as you move toward Star, not even bothering to get off your hands and knees, you look up at him. Not sure what to say now, if he’ll even want you still after watching that. While Soundwave’s release is still slicking you. That anxious fear ebbs when he reaches to cup your cheek, his wings lowering slightly as that panic softens from his optics and his servo slides over the curve of your cheek. Accepting this and you. He’s sprawled there, one leg still outstretched and the other up as he tips your head higher and you go up on your knees so his mouth can crash against yours. Shocking you anew with how warm and malleable his lips are, softer than his plating as he kisses you. Growling a soft protest at you when you pull away. Face heating as you reach for his spike and grip him, watching his wings flare slightly. But not protesting as you kneel between his spread thighs to examine him. You’ve not had a chance to actually explore him and the shape is similar to a human’s, the head more tapered as you run your fingers over him, tracing along those ridges and nodes that feel so good inside you.

“Primus,” he growls as you duck your head and slide your tongue against him.

Hoping whatever his precum consists of isn’t toxic to you, but knowing that ship has probably sailed by this point. He shudders as you taste him, sweet with a metallic bite. Glancing up at him, you run your tongue along his length, before taking the tip into your mouth. Hearing him snarl and feeling his servos tangle in your hair so tight it almost stings. “Don’t move,” you murmur lifting your head and his wings shiver. And then you take him as deep as you can, tongue sliding against him, feeling him trembling under you, but not bucking up against you. You’ve heard him growl and snarl before, but the noise he’s making right now as you swallow as much of him as you can? It’s like he’s coming apart at the seams.

Primus, help him as that wet mouth moves on his spike and you glance up at him as if checking to see if he’s enjoying it. Like you don’t know the effect you have on him. Can’t feel him shaking with the need to move, doesn’t want you to stop, but needs to be inside you. Needs to claim you so thoroughly you forget all about Soundwave. To prove who you belong to. You make a noise when he tugs on your hair, until your head lifts, lips parted and wet. And he almost releases right then. Dragging you into his lap, lifting you and feeling you pull yourself up. Servos tightening on your hip as he grips himself with the other hand and finds your slick core.

“I wasn’t done,” you murmur, against the mesh of his neck, breath warm on him.

And he groans as he pulls you down to bury himself deep right where he belongs. Hearing your throaty moan as he scruffs his servos in your hair again and gently tugs until you arch so he can run his mouth against your soft throat to chase your pulse. Just needing to feel you, to hold you. Your lips brush against his helm, little hands clinging to his shoulders as you shift against him and rock yourself. Riding his spike with slow, unhurried movements. Wings flared, he lays back to let you have your way. Watching you move against him, face flushed. Those eyes everything to him as they hold his optics, listening to the sounds you make. Not Cybertronian, but so lovely to him where you’d once been so strange and alien. That need for more lifts through him, twists through his spark. Glossa tucked against the corner of his mouth as he runs his servos over you, entranced with the way you move against him, lifting until his spike nearly slips free and then rocking back down to take all of him.

Servos sliding up to splay over your chest, he can feel the wild beat of your heart there. Where a spark would be if you were Cybertronian. Watching you, that need crawls through him as he stiffens and lifts his hips. Releasing inside you as you smile down at him, hair falling forward and a few strands stuck to your sweaty cheek as you lazily rock yourself against him. He pulls you down against him, needing to feel your heart beating against him.

Knows he shouldn’t, but can’t seem to stop himself from being greedy for more. So easy to open those protective panels, feeling his spike still pulsing inside your wet heat. Seeing your face limned in the glow of his spark, your breath catching as you try to push yourself up and he pins you against him. Distantly aware of how vulnerable he is right now. That Soundwave is right there, but as his spark reaches tendrils of energy and finds you, nothing else matters. Craving those gentle hands to touch him, but venting raggedly when his sparks twines with you. Feeling you tangling with him, aware of you in ways he never has been before. Bonding himself to you as you shudder against him, little hands scrabbling against his plating, before you’re slumping against him, more of you spilling into him. Something he hadn’t meant to take, hadn’t known he could take as he wraps himself around you, sheltering that fragile warmth that’s you in his own spark. “Primus, I see you,” he whispers raggedly, a prayer and a curse both as the bond runs electric through him. Claiming every bit of you as his, losing himself to that warm feeling of belonging as his servos tighten on you, desperate to keep you close against him. To not let go of this moment.

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[fandom-addict-aesthetics]

I love analyzing the little details in all the atlas posts!

“r u delusional” had me crying thanks anon for keeping it real

MAN IS SO DOWN BAD READERS BARELY TALKING TO HIM (NOT REALLY) AND HES PLAYING THE BEST HES PLAYED IN A WHILE

I love the friendship between the pougues so much 💕

The way they were roasting her “move in” and Kie’s cooking — that’s real friendship

I can’t believe she admitted ON AIR that she’s talking to Rafe

Every group chat collectively freaking out over that too lmao

Why do I feel like Rafe and Barry are gonna hack into the radio frequency so he can talk to her???

HEARTBREAK: LIVE | 31

All | MASTERLIST (SMAU)

Pairing — Ex-BF!Rafe x Radio Host!Female Reader

Summary — You and Rafe were the perfect couple. But after a mysterious breakup, you went off the grid. When your best friends pulls you back into the spotlight to host a on-campus radio show, you find yourself opening up to the world about your experience. This time, with everyone listening—including Rafe. And him? He wants you back.

Content — college au, football player!rafe au

Navigation — Part 30 | Part 31 | Part 32

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[w1ld-wr1t3r]

could you write a cute lil drabble of reader who has anxiety (could be general or maybe something specific like being in a car) x lando norris and lando is a big comfort to the reader and then one day after a bad race the reader gets to be a comfort to him (i imagine their love language to be physical touch)!

Normally I don't like to write reader inserts, but I like this prompt so I'll give it a try just this once!

The greatest comfort in your life was Lando. He was one of the only ones who understood you, who understood what you went through. He never judged you when your anxiety got bad. He would just hold you close and whisper comforts in your ear, until you felt like yourself again.

Your anxiety often struck when you least expected it, snowballing from slight nerves to nearly immobilizing fear before you could stop it. You were more likely to have an attack when you were stressed, be it about work or your relationship or even just life in general. Lando was one of the only ones who had never made you feel bad about having anxiety, and he'd always done his best to help you through it, even when he'd been scared of doing something wrong. It was one of the many things you loved about him.

It wasn't often that you had to return the favor. He was so strong, taking steps to preserve his mental health and facing everything thrown at him with confidence. He wasn't immune to anxiety, but it struck him so infrequently that you hadn't had a chance yet to take care of him the way he'd always taken care of you. You would never wish for it to happen, never, but you did wish that you could show him how much you appreciated everything he did for you.

That time came unexpectedly after a wet race where things went completely to shit.

You'd nearly had to leave the garage halfway through the race, so anxious that you were almost vibrating out of your skin. Lando had had horrible luck today, ranging from a poorly-timed pit stop to caught in the crossfire of not one but two separate incidents on track. When a Williams collided with him on lap 42 and knocked him out of the race for good, you only breathed a sigh of relief because at least it was over now, and you didn't have to watch him try not to die out there any more.

You knew he would be upset, of course. Who wouldn't be after a race like that? You knew you had some of his favorite comfort meals on hand, and were ready to pull one of them out when you got home and start cooking. The activity would help calm your own nerves, and familiar food would hopefully lift his spirits, too.

But when you got back to your room, he was already there, and he was already crying.

You froze for a moment as you took in the scene before you. He wasn't just crying, you realized, he was sobbing. He was huddled on the sofa, curled into a ball and head in his shaking hands. Three different hoodies were strewn around him, like he'd been trying to find something comfortable and soothing to wear but nothing had done the trick. And he hadn't even changed out of his fireproofs. He must have come straight here as soon as he was free, too broken and upset to face anyone.

"Lando?" you asked cautiously, walking closer to him. He didn't stop crying, but didn't move away as you carefully sat next to him. "Are you -"

You cut yourself off before you finished the question. Of course he wasn't okay. Why ask the question when the answer was already obvious?

"Is there anything I can do to help?" you asked instead. You itched to pull him into your arms and hold him, hug him tight until the tension finally left him and he felt safe again. You wanted to ask what had made him cry, but you knew he probably wouldn't be able to tell you now, not while he was sobbing his eyes out and breathing little hiccupping breaths. You had a theory, though, that it was because he felt like he'd let everyone down today and was a failure. You wanted to tell him that that wasn't true, that he'd done amazing today, even with all of the odds stacked against him. He'd been so strong all day, and it was okay if he needed to cry now. You just wanted to help him through it.

Without looking up at you or saying anything, he leaned closer to you, reaching out with a whine. You understood what he wanted immediately, and tugged him to your chest for a hug. He sobbed into your shirt, burrowing into your arms until he felt like he was safe.

"Don't let me go," he whispered, sniffling. "P-please don't let me go."

You hugged him tight, rubbing his back soothingly. "I won't," you promised. "I'm here."

He settled deeper into your arms, clutching you like a lifeline. You continued to hold him, gently rubbing his back and occasionally whispering soothing words to him. You weren't anxious about the day's events at all any more - you were just glad that you could be here to help him through this.

Finally, after a long stretch of silence, he sniffled and whispered. "Th-thank you. I love you."

You smiled, giving him a gentle squeeze and kissing the top of his head. "I love you too."

You two had each other. And you were going to be okay.

[starkeyslibrary]

That's So True

Inspired by That's so True by Gracie Abrams

pairing: reader x drew starkey

a/n: i just realized that i've never formally introduced myself on here! my bad, my name is rhodee, 21 years old, living in europe and currently studying law. i love writing imagines that'll hopefully make you laugh, swoon or cry (sorry not sorry) a little too hard <3

stick around if you’re into dreamy characters, plot twists, or just want to scream about Drew with me!

hope i'll get to know so many of y'all on here!! okay that's all, enjoy <3

The night Drew had left for the premiere, you told yourself it was just another event, like all the others. You even tried to convince yourself you didn't mind staying home, avoiding the chaos of the red carpet. It's his night, you thought, forcing a smile as he kissed you goodbye, his cologne lingering in the air long after the door closed.

But as the hours stretched on, the gnawing sense of isolation grew. It wasn't just tonight - it had been building for months. Drew's career was skyrocketing, and with every interview, press tour and glamorous event, it felt like he was slipping further away from you. He'd promised that things would calm down after this movie, that he'd have more time. But those promises were always vague, like a finish line that kept moving further out of reach.

The photos hit social media just before midnight. Drew, looking devastatingly handsome in his suit, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his co-star, Odessa A’ Zion. The fan comments flooded in, gushing about how perfect they looked together, how the chemistry was undeniable.

You slammed your laptop shut. It wasn't jealousy - not exactly. You trusted him, but trust didn't erase the ache of feeling invisible.

The sound of Drew's keys jingling at the door pulled you from your spiralling thoughts. The clock on the wall read 1:47 a.m. You hadn't realized how late it had gotten. The door opened, and Drew stepped inside, his movements slow and careful, like he didn't want to disturb you. He probably thought you were asleep.

"Hey," you called out, your voice sharp in the quiet apartment. You couldn't hide the edge of frustration.

He paused, caught off guard, then gave a tired smile. "Hey, babe. Didn't think you'd still be up."

"Well, I am," you said, standing from the couch. "Thought you said you'd be home hours ago."

"The afterparty ran late," he explained, shrugging off his jacket. "I texted you."

"That's not the point, Drew," you snapped, your tone harsher than you intended. “This isn’t just about tonight. Do you even realize how little I see you anymore?”

His brows furrowed, and he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s my job, you know how crazy things get during press tour. This isn’t new.”

“That doesn’t make it easier,” you shot back. “You’re always out there, Drew. With her, with them – whoever. And I’m just .... here. Alone. Waiting for whatever scraps of time you have left.”

Drew exhaled sharply, clearly tired, and not in the mood for an argument. “This again?” he muttered, his tone clipped. “I can’t keep apologizing for doing my job.”

You flinched at his words. “I’m not asking you to apologize for working. I’m asking you to make me feel like I matter.”

“You do matter,” he said, raising his voice slightly. “But you’re acting like I can just drop everything. This is how it is y/n. This is how it’s always been.”

“No, it hasn’t,” you countered. “It’s different now. You’re different. You barely talk to me anymore. Half the time, I don’t even know what’s going on in your life. But everyone else does. The fans, the press – they all get pieces of you that I don’t.”

“That’s not true,” Drew said, shaking his head. “You’re making this a bigger deal than it is.”

Your eyes burned with unshed tears. “You don’t get it, do you? You don’t see how lonely this is for me. You’re so caught up in your world that you don’t even notice.”

Drew’s frustration boiled over. “What do you want me to do, y/n? Quit? Stop taking jobs? Would that make you happy?”

His words felt like a slap, and the tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over. “I want you to fight for this – for us. But instead, you’re treating me like a burden.”

Drew froze, his anger dissipating as he saw the pain in your expression. “Y/N,” he started, his tone softer, “You’re not a burden. I love you. You know that.”

“Do I?” you whispered. “Because it doesn’t feel like it anymore.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Drew looked at you, his face a mix of regret and helplessness. “I don’t know what to say,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Then don’t say anything,” you said, retreating to the bedroom before your emotions could completely overwhelm you.

You shut the door behind you, leaning against it as sobs wracked your body. You hated this – hated feeling like you were losing him. But you didn’t know how to bridge the growing distance between you.

Drew stood in the living room, staring at the closed door. He felt like the worst person in the world. He wanted to fix it; to make you understand how much you meant to him. But he was so tired – tired of the constant pull between his career and personal life, tired of feeling like he was failing at both.

He sat on the couch, his head in his hands. The apartment felt unbearably quiet without you. The fight replayed in his mind, your words cutting deeper with each pass. I want you to fight for this – for us.

He realized then how distant he’d been, how much he’d taken your support for granted. You’d been his anchor through everything, and he’d been too caught up in his own world to see how much you were struggling.

When you woke up, the sun was streaming through the curtains, but the weight in your chest hadn’t lifted. You found Drew in the kitchen, already dressed and nursing a cup of coffee. His face lit up when he saw you, but it quickly fell when he noticed your guarded expression.

“Morning,” he said softly, hesitant.

You nodded, not trusting your voice.

“I, uh, I thought about what you said last night,” he began, setting his coffee down. “And you’re right. I haven’t been fair to you.”

You looked at him, surprised. “Drew – “

“Let me finish,” he interrupted gently. “I’ve been so focused on my career that I forgot what matters most – you. Us. I don’t want you to feel like you’re not part of my life, because you are. You’re everything to me, Y/N. And I know I haven’t shown that enough.”

Tears filled your eyes, and this time, you didn’t fight them. “I just... I miss you, Drew. I miss us.”

He crossed the room in a few strides, pulling you into his arms. “I miss us, too,” he said, his voice breaking. “And I’m going to do better. I promise.”

For the first time in weeks, you felt a glimmer of hope. The road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but for the first time, it felt like you were on the same page.

[lilium-nepalense]

AND TMNT is a franchise that is litteraly built on the foundation of radical change!!!

When looking at the history of tmnt its very foundation is centered on adapting a different story. Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird created Tmnt by making it a spoof of the original Daredevil comics. What's started as a goofy bit became a multi billion dollar franchise.

While the original concept was silly, the comics themselves where generally dark and gritty in nature. I mean the turtles like brutaly killed people, that's not to mention Casey jones. So when tmnt started to get successful Playmates wanted to water down the franchise to better sell toys. What resulted was The 1987 cartoon show that was fun lighthearted goofy and monumentaly iconic.

No one here is going to try and argue that the 1987 show is a bad iteration of tmnt despite that fact it is vastly diffrent from the source material. The show had a massive effect on 80's pop culture and is arguably mainly the reason for TMNT's massive success. I mean Playmates made over One billion dollars in 4 years from the toys alone.

Tmnt continues to change its formula over and over and over. Writers are free to explore new precpectives of the story from different lenses. The 2003 show was diffrent from 1987 because it focused more on the darker themes of the comics while still lighthearted enough for child audiences. 2012 made crazy changes to April O'Neil making her both a teenager changing her personality within the story and also making her a freaking alien. All in an effort to develop the world the story was placed in. Take a look at last Ronin for crying out loud! They litteraly killed off everyone !

the magic of the TMNT franchise is its adaptability. The reason TMNT will continue to have such a massive following is because there's a little somthing for anyone here. Rise simply takes tmnts greatest strength and pushes it to its extreme changing practically everything about its story.

people that bash on Rise for being to diffrent from the fundamentals of Tmnt are ironically farther away from tmnt's foundation than rise could ever be.

I know I’m biased because Rise was my first positive experience with TMNT as a franchise, but I really cannot fathom how any TMNT fan who has watched more than the first half of season 1 could call Rise a bad iteration. Like, I can understand it not being someone’s taste if you’re used to the older style, but you HAVE to at least admit they had so much fun mixing up the usual formula and did a pretty good job with it.

They’ve had the same weapons for 40+ years? Switch them up for a little bit as the characters grow into themselves! Give them world-building explained super powers too!

The turtles are usually confined to just NYC and mutant related shenanigans? Throw in a whole hidden underground city with an unknown race that is hiding from human discovery!

Master Splinter’s always wise and responsible with a dark past? What if he was a runaway movie star who spent his life shirking responsibility until it came back to bite him?

Leo’s always the oldest brother and responsible leader? What if he’s a cocky middle child who has to learn responsibility during an alien invasion?

Raph’s always the moody middle child with anger issues? What if he’s the oldest, the main figure of responsibility in their household, and is the one to take the helm of leader for awhile?

April’s usually a boring female side character who only meets the turtles at the beginning of the show? Make her the fun family friend/oldest sister of the family! Let her be crazy and kick people in the shins! Let her be close with Donnie WITHOUT the weird and unnecessary romantic tension! (I am talking specifically about 2012 April.)

Oroku Saki and Karai, the usual heads of the Foot Clan? The Shredder’s a late-game villain whose spirit is trapped in evil mystic armor gifted to Saki by the Krang a thousand years ago, and his daughter turned into a magic sword to keep him trapped in a prison dimension.

Casey Jones? A Foot clan recruit whose identity is only revealed at the end of the series. Oh yeah she also has a time-traveler son by the same name who brings news of the apocalypse.

The Krang weren’t terrifying enough before? Make them capable of the most horrifying body horror you’re allowed to get away with on TV-Y7 rated television.

Baxter Stockman? Make him a 10yo iPad kid who’s bored and decides to make fake ghost stories on the internet for views. (Not my favorite villain, but it’s still a funny and unique take.)

The point is, difference can be good and interesting! Not every aspect of the story needs to be kept the same, sometimes it’s fun to mix things up! And Rise is a good example of that.

[girldriveroscar]

carcar dynamics… thoughts?? ive been reading fic recently and im partial to oscar bossing carlos around lol

bro i have so many carcar thoughts like i had to cut myself off here bc i could fr not stop😭

BUT YESSSSSSSS MEAN OSCAR IS MY BREAD BUTTER AND JAM!

to me carcar thesis is, genz oscar who accepted he wasnt straight the minute he got a finger up there versus repressed catholic guilt daddy issues carlos and they have weird kinda bad (until it gets good) sex about it.

oscars whole thing is like,,, youre the most annoying motherfucker on earth trapped in a hot mans body (and i have to suck your dick bc thats just unfair) and carlos’ thing is im a latent bisexual who thinks sexually dominating the guy i dont like isnt gay – i’m just asserting that im a better driver in all ways (including rimming (bro what))

carlos feminizes oscar a shit ton bc he’s only had sex w woman prior to this and oscar dgaf he’s game for whatever as long as carlos shuts up in the end by oscar #freaking the brains out him

but oscar fs gets off to carlos crying and WANKS IT to carlos’ whiny radios (and eventually carlos gets over himself when he realizes he js wants to be told what to do an he lets oscar dom)

[m333myselfandiii]

Genuinely tweaking tf out because last chapter dropped and I'm so soul-wrenched pulled apart at the seams and unraveling that I don't even have the energy to cry lmaoo. Tbh i never expected to get this attached to a character/s (all of them, really- Shingen, Somi, Shintaro) and it sounds kind of stupid when I write it down here but still.

My heart breaks for all of them; Shingen, who had to live his life burdened by his clan duties. Shintaro, who had to live his life never being the first choice, of always being tethered to the rules. Somi, who, I think (I hope) loved her child, but just a little too late, and for Gun, poor, sweet Gun, who had to see them all die before his eyes.

They weren't good- they were a terrible family by all means (talking about the adults here obv), but somehow I can't bring myself to hate them for it. It's hard to express what I'm really feeling lol but I just hope. I just hope they're all finally at peace, now. Somehow, somewhere.

I hope Shingen and Shintaro get to be the kids that their childhood never allowed them to be, I hope Somi gets to smile more freely, and I hope that Gun can be happy and unburdened by his past. I hope.

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about kid wade sick days.

Not for littles who don't like violence.

Wade has been curled up in the corner of their bed, sleeping on and off for hours, shaking, trying to stay silent as if he would get introuble if he made any noise. He had the comforter over top of him, holding pillows tightly as singular slow tears ran down his face. He didn't want to talk. He didn't want to eat. He didn't want to play. He didn't want to pet puppins. He didn't want to go to the park. He didn't even want Vanessa.

Once inawhile, Logan would hear a soft "....oow." Come from the room, but his voice was tight and high pitched. If it wasn't for their super hearing they wouldn't hear him at all.

Al had suggested that they just leave him alone. That there was nothing they could do for him and bugging him was probably making it worse. "Logan.. Just let him cry himself to sleep.. its the only thing he can do right now."

"I can't just let him cry himself to sleep. He hurts."

"Sugar, he's hurting 24/7. It's only showing today because he's little and doesn't understand. If there was something I could do, I would. But for now it just seems he wants to be alone."

It hurt Logans heart to hear this. No one should have to be alone and suffer except for him. Wade didn't deserve all this pain. He especially didn't deserve it now.

".. He only wants to be alone right now because no one ever took care of him. He was left alone his entire life... you get used to it.. well too fucking bad." He mutters, deciding to bring him some orange juice in his cup.

"Wade?" He had asked. But he didn't awnser.

".. Kiddo?" Logan whispers, setting the cup down close to his head, rubbing his back softly.

"....ow" he whimpered

"I know.. can I come in?" He asks, sliding his hand under the blanket, wiggling his fingers slightly.

"Ow.." he says again, not budging.

"No? Okay... well... I'm going to stay here.. okay?" He says, laying back, letting his weight sink Wade close to him, hoping he would cuddle up to him instead of feeling so alone.

The small slide that he did was silent, the "bmph" being the blankets and pillows protesting but not Wade.

".. ok"

So Logan laid with him, humming and rubbing his back until he moved on his own to curl into his side. "Hey.." he whispers to him, only getting another "..ow.." in return.

"I know... i know." Logan would shush him, keeping him warm and, at one point, let Wade hold his entire arm under the duvet. It was a bit too warm for him. The feverish skin, his fluffy pants, the thick blanket, the pillows. It made him so warm. It was an uncomfortable type, but he enderred it anyway, letting Wade cling to him like it was the cure to cancer itself.

It eventually turned into Wade putting his head and arm on his chest, bringing more of him into his cocoon to the point it looked like over time the blanket was eating Logan until Wade was fully curled up on top of him, no longer shaking.

He let Kitty hold him, rubbing his back and whispering sweet nothings to him. It was so warm under here that you could probably remove the blanket, and the amount of heat Logan has conducted would have probably been enough to still keep him warm.

"Alright.. come on." He says, feeling a bit too much on fire, imagining how terrible and delusional he must be with this.

"Ow.."

"I know, but you're too hot Wade."

There was a little giggle under the blanket as Logan scoffed. "Not like that and you know it. I-i mean. You are but.. not now- t-The temputure kind!" He explained, kind of hating that he understood some flirt terms.

"Come on. Up."

"No... owie."

"Wade, you have to eat something. It's been 6 hours since you've drank anything."

"b-But my tummy hurts.." he whimpers, not wanting to move. He felt like if he did, he would vomit instantly and collapse from the stabbing and twisting pain in his gut.

Sighing, he pulls him close, his hand starting to rub his stomach in hopes the heat from his hand would help.. if not... he had other ideas.

"Here?" He asks, massaging his belly more.

"Mhm... ouch." Shifting himself, he put a hand on logans, keeping his hot hand against his stomach, letting him rub where he pleased, but the tears started back up. It hurt more to be touched, and the fact that he hasn't eaten either made it worse.

"Shh... it's okay... Kitty's here." He whispers, slowly pulling his arm around his neck, pretending just to be cuddling with him in that playful style they did often. Kissing his tears away, Logan mentally had to prepare himself for the worst. Though at least he was conscious enough to understand he was helping. If not, he would have told him to stop touching his tummy by now. "Better?"

Wade shook his head, trying to press Logan's hand harder onto his gut, squeezing his eyes tight. The preasure felt good, and with how desperately he was clawing at him to keep him close, Logan had a feeling that subconsciously, Wade knew what he wanted.

Scratch that. He knew what he needed.

"Here?" He asked, to be sure.

Wade nodded.

"Deep breaths.. It's okay.. Kitty will fix it. I love you, Wade." Logan whispers, cletching his fist as he forced the metal through his stoamch, skewering him.

Wade had gasped, freezing for a moment as the blood came piling up through his throat. He had tried to scream, but it was quickly filled with a choking gurgle as Logan put his head to the side, letting him drain out onto his chest.

"Shhh.. it's alright. Kitty fixed it.." he mutters, an instant wave washing over him as he held the claws deep for a few seconds, pulling them away, begining to kiss his thick tears away and placed his nose to his head.

"It was for your own good... promise."

For a second, he's quiet. Just that. A quick second before he coughed up the rest of the blood and began crying, not out of pain, rather emotionally wounded, his physical one perfectly healed.

"Hey, shhh I know, I know Im sorry, you didn't do anything bad. Im bad. I know- Shhh" He mutters to him, holding him close and kissing his forehead, letting him metaphorically and physically come back to life in his arms. "Shhh hey, did you see that pretty lady again? Hm? Its okay. Was she nice to you? Hm? Hey, shhh, no need to cry. Just a nightmare." He lies, needing Wade to catch his breath, sometimes forgetting to breathe when sobbing like this.

He nods, face still soaked with snot and tears as he nods softly, both confused and panicked.

"Oh yeah? Did she give you a hug and say nice things?" He wasn't actually sure, but the way big Wade described it, this is kind of what happened each time he died for even a moments notice. He wondered if she was aware of him in this state. She had to be right? With how many times he's had to give him to her before...

He blinks, as if finally realizing where he was and what had happened, becoming grounded. Slowly, and confused, he nods. ".. yeah.."

"Yeah? That's good. Does your tummy still hurt?"

He thinks for a second before shaking his head. "..no"

"Good. Are you hungry?"

He nods.

"Come on. Let's go get you some nuggets and cookies. Kitty's gotta do laundry now." He muttered. "...again."

Coming out of the room, Wade was much more chipper, holding his Fluffy Wovie and skipping to the kitchen with his cup, getting into the cookie container.

Al tilted her head, wondering why the apartment suddenly smelled like rusty copper.

"What did you do to him?" She asked.

Logan, who now came out with a the bloody blanket, and blood caked onto his clothes, sighed.

"You don't wanna know..." unaware of how weird this sounded.

"Kihhy 'ixed me!!" Wade shouts from the kitchen, several cookies shoved into his mouth, puppins next to him, struggling to chew on one too.

"Uh... huh.... rrriigghhtt.."

"Like I said.. don't ask... now, where's the peroxide?"

[straylightdream]

getaway car

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: hansol vernon chwe x f.reader

↳ The ties were black, the lies were white. In shades of gray in candlelight. I wanted to leave him. I needed a reason.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: soulmate au??, neighbors to lovers, non idol au

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.6k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mc boyfriend is a jerk, the mc ex is physically cheating, mc is emotional cheating, lots of emotions, smut warning below the cut

𝐚𝐧: my next story for SVT inspired by reputation songs by taylor swift. This is part of a loosely connecting series called “all for you” you can absolutely just read this as one shot. Thank you @whimsical-whatever for helping me figure out this story and listening to me ramble about it.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: oral (fem rec), fingering, protected sex, starting to have sex in the shower, multiple positions, this is very fluffy vanilla smut, lots of emotions

When people talk about being in love they always make it sound so grand and wonderful. They don’t talk about the heartbreak that can also be experienced loving someone who doesn’t deserve your love.

Laying in bed you stare at the empty spot that should be occupied by your boyfriend of five years, but instead he’s nowhere to be seen.

In the last seven months things have fallen apart. No matter how hard you think back you don’t think you can pin the moment when it all started. You’re not happy anymore by any means. You’re not even sure you’re still in love.

There’s only one gleam of light in your life. The boy who lives down the hall Vernon. Whenever you see him he instantly brightens your day. You had met when you moved in, but you didn’t really talk until one day he rode in the elevator with you while you were crying. Since that day Vernon has been a fixture in your life. He became a shoulder to cry on when your boyfriend hurt your feelings. He was also someone you could talk to when you wanted to pretend everything was okay.

You tried your hardest to not complain about your relationship all the time. Most of the time you would just say you were sad and needed a friend.

This last week has been bad. It’s quite obvious your boyfriend is cheating on you.

From the moment you met Vernon you felt drawn to him. At first you told yourself it wasn't a romantic feeling but the longer you knew him the more you realized you felt like you need him in your life to exist. You told yourself over and over you were faithful to your boyfriend that this was nothing more than a crush. But the more your relationship starts to crumble the more you let yourself realize you have feelings for the boy down the hall.

It’s another night of fighting with your boyfriend. He’s come home from work way later than he should have. He walks in after midnight and you instantly spot the stain of lipstick on his shirt collar. There is a stabbing feeling in your chest. No matter how hard you loved him he was never going to be faithful to you.

You’ve pointed out to him a handful of times that things he does makes you think he could be cheating, but this is the first time you have called him a cheater. You would think that maybe he would defend himself and tell you that he’s not cheating, but he doesn’t do that. He tells you he cheats because of you. He points all the blame on you.

You scream at him, you're done and it’s over. You feel utterly broken. Sobbing that he broke your heart as he storms out of the apartment saying he needs air.

You sit on the couch trying to gather yourself. Giving yourself a moment before you pick up your phone and rush out of your apartment.

Walking down the hall there is only one person you wanna see. It’s way past one in the morning now. Opening your phone you hit Vernon contact. Holding your phone to your ear it rings about five times before he answers the phone.

“Is everything okay?” It’s rare you call him let alone in the middle of the night.

“Not really. I’m outside, can you let me in,” you start to cry again.

“Yeah.”

Moments later he opens the door quickly. He’s just in a pair of boxer briefs. He must have been in bed already.

“I’m sorry,” you say as tears slide down your cheek.

He doesn’t say anything. He takes your hand leading you into his apartment he shares with Chan and Seokmin.

He shut the door, locking it. He hesitates for a moment before he rests his hand on your cheek and gently wipes away your tears.

“I told him I’m done. He came home after midnight with lipstick stained on his collar. I don’t wanna do this anymore. He doesn’t love me and I can’t love him anymore. I don't love him anymore.” You lean into his touch.

“I’m glad you left him. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. You’re sorry for so many things. You know he cares for you and that he probably has always romantically liked you for a while just like you have. And no matter what you do you hurt him in one way or another.

“Stop saying that. You have nothing to apologize to me for.” He gives you a gentle smile.

“Can we go to your room? I don’t want to bother the boys. It’s already so late and I already woke you up.”

Reaching down he takes your hand in his for the first time and leads you to his room. He shuts the door and releases your hand. “Would you mind if I stayed with you tonight?”

“Of course you can stay here.” You’ve never been so happy you stormed out of the house in your pajamas. “Did you want me to take the couch?”

“No, I was hoping I could sleep in your bed with you. I just really want to hold your hand.”

He can’t help the smile that tugs on his lips. You crawl under the covers and watch as Vernon turns the light on and crawls into bed next to you. You both lay there facing each other. There is a gap between you. Laying your hand there you want to be close to him. You want him to hold you and to kiss you and tell you you’ll be okay. But that is too much to ask of him.

There is always something about Vernon that he’s always been able to read you. He must notice you’re struggling. He reaches out, taking your hand in his.

“I don’t want to go back to my apartment. I don’t want to live in a building that is haunted with memories of him and I.”

He takes a deep breath squeezing your hand. “You don’t have to. I’ll help you pack your things when he’s gone to work.”

“Where am I supposed to go?” You can’t help the tears that are slowly falling.

“You can stay here with me as long as you need.”

“The boys won’t like that.” You can’t imagine either of the boys would be a fan of another person living in their three bedroom one bath apartment.

“They won’t care. Seokmin is back with his ex and barely lives here and Chan loves you. He won’t mind having you around.”

“Okay, I might need to stay here for a while. My lease wasn’t up for like six more months. Maybe I can find somewhere new by then.” Maybe Vernon has a friend who needs a new roommate.

“You don’t have to worry about that right now.” He wants to pull you close to his body and hold you like he has desperately wanted to.

There is a long moment of silence between you. “I didn't tell him I wasn’t coming home tonight. I just left after I told him we’re done.”

“That’s okay.”

“Thank you.” You’re trying to stop your tears.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he gives you a sleepy smile.

It doesn’t take long before you fall asleep with your head on his chest. His hand gently rubs your side soothing you to sleep. When you dream that night you dream about Vernon the boy who saved you. You dream about him finally kissing you the way you desperately want.

-

The next day you call out of work and send your now ex boyfriend a text telling him that it’s truly over. He’s luckily at work and away from the apartment. When he finally returned to your shared apartment last night he sent you seven texts trying to get a hold of you in the middle of last night.

You expect to receive an angry text responding to you telling him you want to break up but he leaves you on read. It’s probably for the best he does. You don’t think you could take arguing with him.

While he’s at work Vernon and Seokmin come help you pack up everything they possibly can. Seungcheol even brings his truck over to take some of your bigger stuff to a storage unit he has. You could cry at how kind Vernon and his friends are being to you. By the time five o'clock comes around basically anything that ever meant anything to you is long gone from your apartment. Seokmin and Seungcheol left you alone while you wrote a goodbye to your ex telling him he wouldn’t be hearing from you and that you would send him one more month worth of rent and that would be it.

Locking the door to your now former apartment stung. Tears brim your eyes thinking about how much you truly loved this apartment. Vernon takes your hand and brings it to his lips where he places a gentle kiss on top.

Moving on wasn’t going to be easy. You know that even though you have fallen out of love. This breakup is going to hurt. At least you now have Vernon there by your side. How much you desperately wanted to be with him, you wanted to heal and you didn’t want him to feel like he’s just a rebound.

Laying in bed that night, your head once again rests on his chest as he holds you close. “I wanna be with you fully,” you whisper.

“That’s good because I wanna be with you.” He’s slowly drawing circles on your arm.

“I don’t want to jump right into this. I think I need some time before we fully try this. But I’m begging you to be patient with me.”

Gently he presses his lips to the top of your head. “I will wait as long as it takes. I’m just asking that I can still hold your hand and hold you while we sleep. I don’t want to push you into anything else while you heal.”

After that night things stayed like this with Vernon for a while. You lived in his home and shared a bed with him for over a month and half. Vernon was truly your person. He was your rock and you have fallen for him even more.

-

Today has been hell. Anything that can go wrong is. You got yelled at at work, your ex has been trying to contact you all day and on top of that. The icing on the cake is getting stuck in a rain storm without a jacket or umbrella after getting dinner. Luckily Vernon is with you so you aren’t alone getting stuck in a rainstorm. After finding out about your terrible day at work Vernon took you out for dinner to cheer you up. Neither of you had any idea a rainstorm was coming. You had walked from the apartment about a mile to a cafe for dinner, but the rain was making it where you needed to get a cab home.

Running from the cab to the apartment building you can feel the water soaking through your clothes.

Opening the door to Vernon apartment you both instantly notice how quiet the apartment is.

“Chan is at work and I think Seokmin is with his girl. They’re fully back together now,” Vernon says. You’ve only met Seokmin ex a couple times when she came over to see him. She’s a sweet girl and seems like a good fit for him.

“Oh. I think I need a shower to warm up.” You pause staring at him for a moment. “Did you want to join?” You know this means things between you will change. But you desperately want more with him. It’s been a month and half of you living here sharing lingering touches, longing stares, and cuddling at night. You aren’t sure how much longer you could share a bed with him before you lose your mind.

“Are you sure?” He says staring at you with almost a concerned look on his face.

“Yes.”

Walking away from him you head off to the shower that is next door to his room. Luckily the boys aren’t home so you don’t have to worry about them interrupting you. You turn on the hot water waiting for him to walk in. Walking into the bathroom he locks the door as you strip away your clothes. He stands there like a statue as you open the sliding glass door and step into the steam. Your body feels an instant relief as the hot water hits your cold skin.

Standing under the warm water you watch Vernon through the frosted glass. You should feel embarrassed about him seeing you naked but you aren’t at all. This feels natural. You want whatever is going to happen with Vernon to happen. You don’t want to feel guilty for having a crush on him. He’s truly the reason you were able to walk away from your loveless relationship.

“Vernon?”

“Yes?”

“Are you going to join me?” You step back under the warm water.

Through the frosted glass you can see him pulling off his shirt. “Do you want me to join you?”

“I want you to.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just takes off his pants and boxers. The glass door slides open and there he is naked in all his glory. You don’t know the last time you saw a man naked other than your ex. Vernon is absolutely beautiful. You hope in the future you can kiss your way across his beautiful skin.

The moment he slides the door shut it doesn’t turn into some lust filled moment. He stares at you for a long moment. A gentle smile on his face.

“Can you come closer to me?” You hold your hand out. Silently he takes your hand stepping closer. The warm water is washing over both of you.

“Thank you,” you don’t think you can ever thank him enough for giving you a reason to leave.

“Don’t have to thank me.”

Reaching up, his hand rests on your cheek, “I feel like you’re supposed to be in my life.”

“I feel like I need you in my life. I feel things for you I never felt for him in those five long years.” He leans down and rest his forehead against yours.

“You know Wonwoo and his girlfriend?”

“You mean the boy who is absolutely in love?” You’ve met all of Vernon’s friend in the last month and half and the moment you met Wonwoo and his girlfriend you realized he was head over heels for his girlfriend. She had told you one night when you were all at Seungcheol and Joshua’s house that Wonwoo made her believe in soulmates. Hearing her say that made you question if soulmates are real. Because if they were, you think you found yours.

“They always say they’re each other's soulmates, and I think you’re mine if they’re real,” he pulls away from you slowly.

Your body feels fuzzy as you process his words. You can’t think straight as you close the small distance between you and crash your lips into his for your first kiss. Your fingers tangled in his hair pulling his body closer to yours. You can feel him hardening against your stomach as you deepen the kiss.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this in the shower,” he whispers against your lips.

“Vernon?”

“Yes?”

“I want you in every way imaginable.”

Pulling away from you he turns off the water and steps out of the shower. He hands you a towel and starts working quickly drying himself off. The moment you’re both dry and wrapped in towels, you take his hand leading him towards his room.

Laying on his bed with your legs spread wide he’s kissing his way across your delicate skin. He kisses down your mound before pressing a kiss to your sensitive clit. His fingers part your folds as he licks your sensitive bundle of nerves. Slowly he pumps one finger inside. Your soft moans echo throughout his bedroom. He adds another finger earning a moan. Your finger clutch the sheets below you as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

Looking down at him you find him staring up at you through hooded eyes. He watches as you fall apart moaning his name.

Pulling away slowly he dips his fingers into his mouth wiping away your release. You stumble to sit up wanting to return the favor.

“What are you doing?” He asked, crawling off the bed.

“I was going to give you head in return,” you cock your head to the side.

“How much I would love that, I can’t think about anything other than being inside you,” he sighs.

“Oh-“

He reaches into his nightstand pulling out a foil packet. Tearing it open with his teeth. With lust filled eyes you watch as he rolls it down his hardened length.

Laying back on the bed you spread your legs waiting for him patiently.

Hovering over you he’s staring at you like you are the only person in the whole world. Reaching up, you rest your hand on his cheek.

“Do I sound like I’m crazy if I tell you I love you?” He whispers.

“No not at all,” you thought being in love again would be scary, but you think you have always been in love with him since you met him. He came into your life at the perfect time. You met him as you started to fall out of love with your ex. The moment you met Vernon in the hallway with your hands full of groceries you instantly felt something for him. Being around him made you feel like he’s supposed to be in your life.

“I love you,” he says softly. “I need you to know that before we have sex. I’m head over heels for you.” You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. “You don’t have to say it right now baby. I just want you to know how I feel.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

“Are you ready?”

You nod.

He slowly slides into you. The stretch feels amazing. Lifting your leg you open yourself up to him more. Everything in the world suddenly feels like it’s shifted. Your fingers claw at his shoulders as he thrust into you at a slow pace. His lips are yours kissing you like he needs you to breathe. This feels different than any other sex you've had before. Tangling your fingers in his hair you gently tug him away from your lips. You want to stare at him for a long moment.

“Oh my god-“ you moan.

“You feel like you were made for me,” he moans.

You hook your leg over his back just above his butt pulling him closer to you. His thrusts are incredibly deep with his slow pace.

“Please-“ you can only whimper and whine.

He rolls his hips a little faster. Your hands move down to his butt. Gripping his cheeks pulling him down closer to you. You feel as if you can’t get physically close enough to him.

“Baby do you want to change positions?” He must notice you want to have some sort of control. You seem like you desperately want to touch him.

“Please.”

He pulls out of you slowly and moves so he’s sitting with his back against the headboard. You waste no time straddling him. Slowly sinking down on his length. His hands rest on your hips helping you ride him. One of your hands rest on his cheek while the others rest on his chest right above his heart. Leaning toward you, press your forehead against his.

Silent gasps pass his lips.

“Fuck-“ you moan.

Your thighs burn as you ride him but that doesn’t stop you. Desperate to see what he looks like when he falls apart.

“Are you close?” You whine.

Silently he nods. One of his hands going up to take your breast. Squeezing it before rolling your hardened nipple between his fingers.

“Are you going to come?” He asked.

“Yes-“

You roll your hips a little faster. You clit brushes against his pelvic bone earning a wanton moan. Your second orgasm hits you harder than your first. Your hips stop moving as a white hot wave washes over you. Rolling your head back, you moan. His hands grip your hips as he moves your body up and down his length chasing his own release.

He falls apart moaning your name. You stare at him as he holds you flush against his thighs and he falls apart. The sight of him like this is absolutely breathtaking.

Your chest is heaving as you try to come down from your high slowly. Holding his face with both hands you slowly lean forward pressing your lips to his for a soft kiss.

“I love you,” you whisper the words that have been floating in your head for a while.

“I love you too.” He can’t help but smile.

“Thank you for giving me a reason to leave him.” You’ll never be able to thank Vernon for showing you that you could love someone else, and that someone could love you more than your ex did. He’s showing what it means to find your person. He’s making you believe soulmates could be real.

He pushes your hair away from your face. His thumb drags across your cheek slowly. “Falling in love with you is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

[lilithsrestingplace]

no lube, no protection, all night, all day from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream, and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, first clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind bloging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine ting, thirsty, thursting all day without stopping, till nothing left, satisfied, non-stop, every single sec, crawling, back hurt, cramp legs, can't walk for 5 years, don't care, still non-stop, him oiled up makes me turned on even more, screaming without s, him whimpers makes my inside giggling, in heat, everyday, till the neighbors hear us, till the neighbors can remember his name perfectly, even earthquake, thunderstorm, heavy rain, typhoon, we still keep going, broke bed, everyday buy a new bed, hole floor, gasping for air, crying, gripping his back, leave a bite marks and red marks on his neck and every spot, scratching his back, leaves a scars on his back, phenomenal, month foaming, heavenly awakening, id still bounce on it, body numbling, back worthy, hair drenced, flabbergasting, down break, whimpering our names, till the neighbors decide to move, legs spread automatically, DOWN BAD, ON MY KNEES, WOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOOF WOOFWOROFKKENFOECOENFEOKFOEOFOFOOFOFOFOFOFOF,WOOOOFFFFFFFF,MEOOOWWMEEOOWWWME000WWWwWW GREERRRRR ILL TAKE IT LIKE A GOOD GIRL, GRRERGGRRGRGR ONE MORE CHANCE, BARKING SOWO00000 OOFFFF GUESS THIS IS WILD BUT I DONT GIV A SHITT (original is a twt by @/djpon3stan

[revelboo]

sometimes i think this is how some of the bots think about humans

lowkey don't know how to feel about that myself, i actually put myself in some of the human's shoes and wow it's no easy task to deal with their situation and having to keep themselves calm

That’s probably how a lot of them unconsciously view humans because of the size difference.

A Lifeless Ordinary Pt 4

Scavengers x Reader

• By virtue of Swindle’s reputation as a crook, Misfire voted Crankcase to use the language file and everyone else agreed. Most likely the con wouldn’t intentionally off a customer he can scam again, but still. Now Crankcase leans over where the human is sitting on a crate, little legs dangling and heels thumping against the side, and he spouts gibberish at you. Your head comes up, eyes widening as you say something back and get to your feet. “Do you understand it?” Krok demands, right as your little shoulders slump, hands gesturing.

• When the one with the chunk out of his head starts talking and you recognize human language, you lunge to your feet. Asking if he knew your language, because while the sounds are familiar, it’s still nonsense to you. And he’s just staring back at you in incomprehension. It’s the wrong language and you’re not sure whether to laugh or cry. Or scream. You’re still stuck at square one playing charades with giant, alien robots.

• “Still gibberish,” Crankcase growls, leaning back as the human goes on a rant, little hands flapping about and gesturing before you flop back down in frustration. Reaching out he nudges your shoulder with a servo and you immediately swat him. Those eyes glowering when he uses that same servo to tip your chin up. Because he gets it, to be so small and trapped somewhere? Unable to communicate? You must be terrified even if you hide it well. And that’s something he understands. What happened to him left more scars than just the chunk missing from his head. Sometimes the other Scavengers come up on his bad side and he almost swears it’s Thunderwing looming up behind him, that old nightmare digging it’s claws in.

• “Of course it is,” Krok sighs, slumping back on the bench in the cargo hold. Doesn’t even realize when he starts clicking the device in his hand because it’s become a nervous habit by this point. Whenever something goes sideways, he plays with it and now you look up at the noise and meet his optics. As he watches, you hold up your fist, thumb moving to mime him until he stops. “Signal that crook.”

• “I told you,” Misfire growls, wings flaring as he watches you stop copying Krok and look up at him. Unable to understand, but trying. Those intelligent eyes alert. As he watches, Spinister finds that stuffed animal as big as you are and pushes it firmly at you, knocking you flat on your back as you wrap your arms around it in self defense just to get him to stop. “I mean, his name is Swindle,” he mutters as he stalks off.

• Arm looped around the stuffed bear, you crane your neck to watch the one with wings stalk off. They’re obviously all unhappy and it hurts to get your hopes up only to have them crushed again. If you can’t communicate, you can’t ask to go home. You’ve tried mimicking some of the sounds they make, but they always just look at you funny. Expressions giving away that they can’t even tell you’re trying so hard. That your attempts are just nonsense to them. Anxiety lifting through you, you’re aware of the biggest one, the one that had found you and ran you down, still staring at you. He’d scared you nearly to death then, but if he hadn’t spotted you that day? You’d have probably starved on that barren world, scared and alone. He saved you whether or not he realizes it.

• “Think they really were a pet taken after the war?” Fulcrum asks as you chatter at Spinister, trying to get back up only for him to keep pushing you back over with a servo. He’d stop him, but you’re laughing instead of angry. “Why abandon them out here?” Because you haven’t been that much trouble except for the handful of times they’d accidentally poisoned you trying to keep you alive. Swindle’s food at least had been legitimate, though whatever those black and white discs are, you’d tried to devour the entire package as soon as they weren’t paying attention to you. And he’s almost positive you had been swearing at him when he had to take the package away to ration them out slowly. Like now as you manage to get away from Spinister and move as close to him as you can get, big eyes imploring as you hold out a hand. Aware of the others watching as he produces the little package and holds it out, holding up a servo of the other hand in warning. And huffing at him, you take only one instead of trying to snatch them all, reaching out as soon as you pop it in your mouth to pat his servo and mumble nonsense at him.

Previous

[meazalykov]

let me in

giulia gwinn x anxiety!reader

part one - part two

summary: you try to hide it, but she already knows

warnings: diagnosed anxiety, fear, zoloft mentions, angst

the moment your alarm goes off, your body tenses instinctively. the anxiety is immediate, crawling under your skin like tiny prickles, making it difficult to breathe properly. you turn over in bed and stare at the ceiling, trying to calm the racing thoughts. 

another match day. champions league. arsenal. there’s a pressure weighing down on you, like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, and you haven’t even stepped onto the pitch yet. 

you try to convince yourself that it’s just another game, that you’ve been through this before. however, today feels different. you can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. that today could be the day everything unravels.

giulia is beside you in the bed, sitting up peacefully while wiping her tired eyes. you lightly smile, knowing at least your girlfriend of five years has had a peaceful sleep for matchday.

once the both of you got into the dressing room at bayern campus– you slip into your bayern kit, hands trembling slightly as you button the collar of the UWCL shirt. the fabric feels heavy on your body, like a constant reminder of all the expectations weighing on you. 

you’ve played through worse moments—disappointments, injuries, even the pain of last season’s champions league exit. 

nothing hits quite as hard as the self-doubt that plagues you now. 

last season was still raw in your memory. that error against PSG, the one you couldn’t shake. the one that spiraled out of control. it was your fault, and the team had to pay the price for it. tuva and georgia had been blamed by the media, and you couldn’t stop thinking about how they must have hated you for that mistake. 

(throwback) the final whistle blows and the stadium erupts into a mix of celebration and disbelief. for bayern, it’s over. the champions league dream, shattered. eliminated from the group stage. 

you stand there, frozen, staring at the scoreboard as the reality of what just happened hits you like a tidal wave.

we’re going home. 

you can barely breathe, your chest tight and tight like it’s being constricted. every part of you aches—physically, emotionally. your stomach twists in knots. you barely register the roar of the crowd as PSG’s fans chant their victory, your focus entirely consumed by the players around you, especially georgia. she’s going to get so much hate.

it wasn’t just your mistake that led to this, but that error was the catalyst. the own goal, the one that was a collective mess of bad decisions, started with you. tuva’s tackle was rushed and you were a beat behind. and when it all fell apart, when georgia tried to clear it and it deflected off her, you saw it before anyone else—she’ll be the one blamed.

you wanted to scream. you wanted to cry. you had the tears in your throat, but they wouldn’t come. there was nothing, just a choking feeling that kept you from expressing it. all you could feel was this deep, gnawing pain in your chest. this horrible pain, like your whole body was trying to fight against the reality that had just unfolded. 

you slowly turned toward giulia, who was standing there, quiet. you didn’t know if you could face her, but somehow, your feet carried you to her. she was looking down, hands on her hips, shoulders heavy. there was no anger in her face—nothing that showed she was disappointed in you—but you couldn't help but feel the weight of everything. was it my fault? am I the reason we lost?

you hugged her then, tightly, desperately, hoping to find some form of comfort in her arms. giulia let you, her arms wrapping around you in return. she didn’t say anything at first, and you didn’t know what to say either. it was as if the whole team was frozen in time, each player lost in their own thoughts. you wanted to break down, to cry into giulia’s chest, but the tears just wouldn’t come. 

your chest ached. the physical pain of it was almost as bad as the emotional. it was a nightmare, one that you couldn’t wake up from. bayern is going home. 

you thought giulia might say something, might offer some kind of words to reassure you, but all she did was rub your back, the gesture soft and comforting. she was tired too, worn out by the match, the loss, just like everyone else. but there was no disappointment in her. there’s no disappointment, you repeated to yourself, but you couldn’t shake the feeling.

you pulled away from giulia after a moment, but you didn’t look at her. you couldn’t. please don’t be mad at me. you thought, though you didn’t speak it. don’t blame me.

instead, your eyes flicked to georgia. she was slumped by the side of the pitch, her face pale, her hands on her head. she must hate me, you thought. I know she does.

it was her name that would be all over the munich papers, her face the one everyone would point to. it didn’t seem fair, but that’s how football was, wasn’t it? the public always needed someone to blame.

your throat tightened, but still, no tears came. you felt like there should have been. like it would somehow make things better if you could cry it out. but georgia… you thought, she’s the one who’ll carry this. it’s her fault in their eyes, not mine.

you stood there, with giulia beside you, and as much as you wanted to say something, to make it better somehow, you couldn’t. words felt useless. what could I say? how could I fix this?

you wished there was a way to take the blame from georgia, to make sure she didn’t have to carry that weight. but there was no way to do that—not here, not now. 

you walked off the field slowly, your feet feeling heavier with each step. please don’t hate me, georgia, you thought one last time. and as you disappeared into the locker room, you felt like the world was closing in around you. I’ve failed.

then georgia—her calm, reassuring presence—had pulled you aside in the dressing room. 

she’d told you that neither her or tuva hated you. that things would be better next season. she had been the first to reassure you, but the damage had already been done. you couldn’t stop the guilt, the weight of that mistake, and now, every game felt like the one where you would fall apart again.

you push that last season game aside in your mind, focusing on playing arsenal now for a brand new season. the familiar hum of excitement is going through your veins but the anxiety lingers, like an ever-present shadow that you can’t outrun. 

the match begins, and the flood of adrenaline fills you. at first, you manage to push the fears to the back of your mind. you’re focused, playing as the defensive midfielder, eyes darting between the players, watching for any openings. 

then it happens—the moment you dread. mariona steps in, intercepting your pass with ease, and suddenly, the ball is in the back of your net. you feel your body go cold, your heart dropping into your stomach. the weight of it crushes you in an instant. 

your mind goes blank for a moment, the stadium blurring around you as the realization sinks in. you’ve messed up. again.

keep in mind, you’re a great defensive midfielder. the public highly rates you, the club loves you, and your ballon d’or nominations have proved that at one point. however, you were your biggest critic. you took every mistake of your own personally.

it’s a small mistake in the grand scheme of things, but in that moment, it feels like the end of the world. your chest tightens, your breath becomes shallow. you try to keep your head in the game, but your mind is racing with thoughts of failure. you wonder if the team is already judging you, if they’re whispering about you behind your back. 

your hands are clammy, and you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. embarrassment. shame. fear. it all rushes to the surface in one suffocating wave. 

you chase the ball, but it’s already too late. the game continues, and all you can think about is that moment, the mistake that will define the rest of the match. not knowing that bayern will pull off the win.

you feel the eyes of your teammates, even though you know they’re not focusing on you. you can’t help it—the anxiety makes everything feel magnified. every step feels like it’s being scrutinized. 

you imagine their faces, the disappointment in their eyes. 

then, glodis scores, and the atmosphere shifts slightly. it’s a small relief, but it’s not enough to quiet the storm in your head. you try to keep your focus, to keep playing, but the tension builds. your leg starts to bounce involuntarily, your knee jittering with nerves. 

it’s a tick you’ve had since childhood, a sign that the anxiety is taking hold of you. 

during halftime, georgia tries to rally the team. she speaks with such conviction, urging everyone to keep pushing. but you can’t focus on her words. your leg bounces uncontrollably, your jaw clenched in frustration. 

sweat beads on your forehead, but it’s not from the game—it’s from the overwhelming anxiety clawing at you. you can feel giulia’s eyes on you, even though you try to keep it together. she knows you too well as her girlfriend of half-a-decade. 

giulia’s gaze doesn’t leave you as you sit there, trying to steady your breathing. she notices the way your body is wound tight, the way your foot taps rapidly against the floor, the way your face is losing its glow despite the heat of the match. her brow furrows in concern, but she doesn’t say anything—not yet. 

she waits, knowing that you’ll come to her when you’re ready. the panic is still bubbling up inside you. you know she’s worried, but you don’t want to burden her.

you don’t want to be seen as weak.

part two here