#not very silly. very vent-y in fact.

[itsalwaysdark]

aww its kinda cute finding me complaining abt my dads whole lisa thing from 2017. honestly so overshadowed by everything else and also i was so annoying when i was 12 aw .

[sweetkpopmusings]

dokyeom best friend headcanons <3

a/n: back at it again (finally) with best friend seventeen !!! one day i will finish all of these hcs and the boyfriend ones too.....until that day, please enjoy hundreds of words that represent my love for sweet dokyeom!!! pics not mine~

content: fluff | wc: 0.9k | warnings: none! | pairing: bestfriend!dokyeom x gn!reader | requests:open

dokyeom is sunshine personified which means he is literally the best friend anyone can ask for

like hello ??? a happiness virus by your side at all times ??? an angel being just a quick text or phone call away ??? a dream come true if you ask me 

he is a very sweet, casual best friend

he is so thoughtful, and he’s always checking up on you

but it’s not through grand gestures or cinematic speeches

he will text you during the day to see how you’re doing, remind you to drink water, or even ask about your chores (and if he can come over and “help” aka distract you lol)

dokyeom just cares so much about you :-( like you’re his BESTIE and he refuses to accept you having anything other than a perfect day every day

which means he is the absolute best source of comfort

he will always be a shoulder to cry on or a listening ear

and he comforts you in the ways that you respond to best

want advice? he’ll stay up for hours talking through all the possible solutions with you. want to vent? he will listen intently and validate every single feeling you have. want to forget about the world for a while? he’s taking you out to do your favorite activities or staying in with you and binging your favorite content to escape from the stresses of reality

dokyeom isn’t afraid to ask how he can support you best either like he’s always working to be the best friend he can be

and he is HONORED every time you support him

sweet baby actually cries whenever you’re there for him like he is so so grateful 

he can’t believe he’s lucky enough to have an amazing person like you as his closest friend

usually while you’re comforting him he’ll thank you profusely, cry, laugh at the fact he’s crying over how much he loves you YET again, and smile like everything is fixed

everything IS fixed when you’re by his side actually <333 dokyeom tells you this constantly and he means it.

okay back to him being literal sunshine because im getting emotional lolol

dokyeom laughs at EVERY. SINGLE. JOKE. YOU. MAKE.

like even if it's not that funny, he finds you trying to be funny so hilarious that he's giving you no less than a hearty chuckle for every joke or joke-adjacent thing you say

if you say something particularly funny, he is throwing himself onto the nearest surface (which could very well be you, if you're standing/sitting near each other) and cackling while smacking his hand down repeatedly because he just can't take The Comedy

deadass you're his favorite comedian 

and he LOVES to do bits with you!!!

y'all have a whole repertoire to pull out at any moment that calls for it or whenever you're in the mood

lowkey hoshi gets jealous but it’s fine because you and dokyeom let him in on the bits sometimes 

obviously he is THRILLED any time you laugh at one of his jokes

which is constantly because hello ?? he is a strange and silly boy like you are entertained 25/8

sometimes you two have to ditch your plans entirely because you get so caught up in joking around with each other you lose track of time

these are dokyeom’s favorite hangouts <33 he LOVES being in your own world together :,,,-)

lowkey he gets jealous if you spend a lot of time with any of his members

it’s not super serious, but he definitely pouts

that’s MY y/n !!! they’re MY best friend !!! not YOURS !!!

it’s so endearing because he’s like a little kid who doesn’t want his friend playing with anyone else on the playground

he becomes the most excited puppy when you pay attention to him again though

the members tease him for this behavior but he just reminds them they don’t get it because you’re not their best friend >:-)

talk about a hype man

dokyeom is 1384302094503% dedicated to making you feel confident

he thinks you are incredible inside and out and he will not accept it if you don’t agree

whether he needs to buy you an entirely new wardrobe or script a full presentation on why you are the best person ever, dokyeom is Locked In on the loving y/n agenda 

your reputation absolutely precedes you whenever you meet someone from dokyeom’s life

they know all about you and are immediately obsessed with you because of everything dokyeom has told them

dokyeom will be by your side, smiling brightly, relishing in how much they already love you

he’ll even suggest stories for you to tell when you’re having conversations in a group because he knows how to highlight your best moments

honestly he would totally have a stan account for you and make “y/n funniest moments” compilations and things of that nature

he’s your #1 fangirl and he takes that role VERY seriously

why ?? because one of the proudest achievements in dokyeom’s life is being your best friend :,-) <333333

UGH i love dokyeom so much he is the sweetest boy ever and i need to look at pictures of his beautiful smile and cry because i’m so grateful to be in the world at the same time as him <3333

dokyeom if you’re taking applications for additional friends please let me know i’m eager to take advantage of this exciting opportunity

[cherrycola27]

Red, White, and Bradshaw

A Red, White, and Rooster Sequel

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption, political inaccuracies. Mentions of and acts of terrorism, death. Allusions to and full smut. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

Masterlist Next Part

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

Chapter 1: Designated Survivor

At thirty-nine years old, you'd lived quite a life. You had been married to the man of your dreams for almost a decade. You had four beautiful children with him. You had been the First Lady of the United States, and you were currently the Secretary of Commerce for Bradley's successor, President James Hamilton.

Though you had worn many hats during your time in Washington, you never lost sight of who you were. After his time as president came to an end, Bradley supported your political career. He was more than happy to take a back seat from the spotlight and be a stay at home dad to your kids.

Andy and Elle were now seven, Leo, whom you were pregnant with at his second inauguration was five, and Wren, your fifth anniversary vow renewal oops baby, whom you loved very much, was three.

Your two boys were the spitting image of their father, and your two daughters were like mini versions of you. Out of all of them, Elle and Leo had definitely inherited your can-do attitude and "bossy" personality, as Bradley would say, while Andy and Wren shared his laid-back vibe.

Your family was your pride and joy, but you were also proud of the fact that you never had to sacrifice your love of business and politics to have them. You were blessed with a supportive husband who recognized how hard you worked.

When President Hamilton had first offered you a cabinet position, you were hesitant to take it. How could you raise a family and serve? Being First Lady was one thing. This was an entirely different level.

Bradley listened as you told him about your worries and assured you that he would do everything in his power to support you if you wanted to make this career move. "You supported me when I need you. You helped me follow my dream, and now it's my turn to help you." Bradley had told you as he held you in his arms one night.

The next day, you accepted the offer, and after a relatively quick vetting process, you became Y/N Wiseman-Bradshaw, Secretary of Commerce.

The first few months were an adjustment. You spent many sleepless nights venting to Bradley about how you thought you'd made a mistake and that you should quit. He would listen to your concerns and encourage you and soothe your worries each time. He celebrated all of your victories in your new position, both big and small. Everything was going well—too well.

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

It was a quiet night in Washington D.C.

President Hamilton was about to give his first State of the Union address. You were in a secure, undisclosed location with your family. You had been chosen as the designated survivor. You thought it was silly, really. What were the odds that every single person ahead of you in the line of presidential succession died at the same time?

But you also understood the importance of it. You appreciated a good backup plan.

You were relaxing in some leggings and a well-worn, oversized Georgetown hoodie, staring at the TV when Bradley joined you.

He had an old Navy shirt and some flannel pants on. He'd just tucked the kids in bed before coming to watch the State of the Union with you.

He wrapped his arm around you as the two of you shared a bowl of popcorn.

"Oh my god, did I look that stuffy when I gave my speehes?" He asked as the two of you listened.

"No, Dearest. You looked exceptionally handsome." You told him. He laughed as the two of you continued to watch the screen. Everything seemed fine—normal even.

Until it happened.

A large boom shook the safe house just as the live feed of the address went black.

You and Bradley looked as each other with panic in your eyes.

"Bradley, go get the kids." You told him. He was out of his seat and racing down the hall before you could finish your sentence. You quickly flipped through the TV channels to see if you could figure out what was wrong. The sound of sirens and helicopters blared from outside. Whatever this was, it was serious.

Just then, Dante, the head of your security team, burst in the door. Mrs. Bradshaw, we need to move all of you now." He said in a protective tone. "Dante, what's going on?" You asked him. He didn't respond.

Just then, a news flash came over the TV, and your heart sank. Your children came running into the room and gathered around you as Bradley followed behind.

"Oh my god." The two of you said in unison. "Bradley, they blew up the Capital." You said in disbelief as you watched the screen. You couldn't believe your eyes. In the spot where the beautiful building had once stood was nothing but a pile of burning rubble.

"Dante, I need you to get the Seresin's on the phone right now." You demanded. "Mrs. Bradshaw, we need to get all of you out of here now. We will call them from the car." Dante said. You wanted to protest, but he was grabbing your arm and hauling you out door as more members of your security team escorted Bradley and your children.

You looked back over your shoulder just in time to see a banner flash stating that there would likely be no survivors. Your heart sank as you thought about all innocent men and women who lost their lives— your parents included.

Suddenly, it felt like everything was moving in slow motion. Andy and Elle sat on either side of you in the car while Leo and Wren clung to Bradley.

You were vaugly aware of him telling you that they had reached Jake and Jaycee. The Seresin's and their three children were fine, and more security would be sent to them.

Bright lights from police, fire, and military flashed through the streets of D.C. as Dante navigated them. You were sure someone was talking to you, but you didn't hear what they said. You felt like you were underwater.

You didn't register yourself getting out of the SUV or the fact that you were being taken through a back passage of the White House. It was only when Chief Justice Inglewood was asking Bradley to hold the Bible and for you to place your hand on, that you snapped back to reality.

"Wait, what's going on?" You said as you looked around the room.

"Mrs. Bradshaw, you're the designated survivor." Chief Justice Inglewood said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You still hadn't processed what was going on.

"Honey, you're about to take the oath of office. You're going to be the president." Bradley said to you calmly.

You took a deep breath as Justice Inglewood looked at you. "Please place your left hand on the Bible, raise your right hand, and repeat after me." She began. You didn't even have time to process what Bradley had said before Inglewood started the oath.

"Do you, Y/N Wiseman-Bradshaw, solemnly swear to faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of your ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States?" Chief Justice Inglewood asked you.

That's when the reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. The president, vice president, and everyone else in the Capital tonight were dead. You swallowed thickly as your children huddled close, not sure of what was happening, but aware enough to know something was off.

You took a deep breath and looked at Bradley for reassurance. He nodded his head and smiled.

"I, Y/N Wiseman-Bradshaw, do solemnly swear to faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States." You affirmed in a shaky tone. You felt like you were going to throw up. You tried to swallow, but your mouth was dry, and your tongue felt like sandpaper. You were vaugly aware of someone taking pictures in the background as you spoke the words.

"Congratulations, Madame President. I wish this could have been under better circumstances." Justice Inglewood said as she shook your hand.

You thought that it was odd that she was shaking your hand and congratulating you. You were here because hundreds of people had died, not because you won an election. You did deserve this.

Your hands started to shake as tears pricked your eyes. This was wrong. All wrong. You felt like you couldn't breathe. How the hell did you end up here?

Your husband turned to you and saw the fear in your eyes.

Bradley immediately pulled you in for a hug before cupping your face in his hands. He could sense the terror running through your body as the severity of the situation set in.

"Oh my god, Bradley. I—I—what am I going to do?" You said as tears threatened to fall from your eyes.

"Right now, we are going to tuck the kids in and read them a bedtime story. Then, you are going to go with Dante to a secure conference room and talk with the department heads that weren't at the State of the Union. You are going to figure out a way for us to get through this because that's what you do best, honey. You solve problems. Tomorrow morning, you are going to drink way too much coffee, put on a suit, and address the nation. You are going to let them know that we are down, but not out. You are going to show them how strong their president is. But most of all, you're going to do your best. That's all you can do." Bradley tells you as he kissed your forehead.

Dante doesn't give you time to respond or to help Bradley with the children before he is whisking you away again.

"Go get 'em; Madame President. I love you." Bradley said as he ushered you to go. You nodded and followed Dante.

You couldn't believe this was happening. One minute, you were enjoying a quiet evening. The next, you were thrust into a position you weren't even sure you wanted and knew you weren't qualified for.

"Oh my god." You said to yourself for what seemed like the hundredth time this evening as the weight of everything settled over you.

You were no longer Secretary Wiseman-Bradshaw. You were President Wiseman-Bradshaw.

Life as you knew it would be forever changed.

Dante and your other Secret Service team members stopped outside a door. Dante went ahead while you waited behind. Moments later, he returned and said,

"Madame President, they're ready for you."

Taglist: @daggerspare-standingby @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @hecate-steps-on-me @roosterscock @roosterbruiser @roosterforme @seresinsbabe @startrekfangirl2233 @soulmates8 @xoxabs88xox @avengersfan25 @blackwidownat2814 @loveforaugust @mak-32 @cottagecori @amysteryspot @heyimmadisonn @sunlightmurdock @lewmagoo @cassiemitchell @die-cunt @shipinabluebottle @malindacath @violyn20 @imawkwardlysoc @books-for-summer @blackroseboulevard @recordblues @desert-fern @luckyladycreator2 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @sebsxphia @roosters-girl @diorrfairy @je-suis-prest-rachel @mizzzpink @a-linabean @amklibrary @gretagerwigsmuse @jstarr86 @actuallyazriel @krismdavis @bradshawsbaby @wkndwlff @dakotakazansky @multifandomlover4life @princess76179

[tinydefector]

The Rung transfluid headcanon 😵‍💫 I already drink those daily 🤭

Could I offer up Sunder as being the new Monster Ultra flavor: Fantasy Ruby Red?

Oh the amount of headcannons I have over the transfluid atm is insane. I'm working on a Swerve fic for it atm. I wasn't actually expecting ,y silly shit post to get so much traction over the bots XD

So where I am in Australia energy drinks are limited in what you can find and today I'm in one of the cities so gonna see what lovelies I can find.

I had to go look up that monster and kinda went down a rabbit hole for Sunder and Rung

--------

Firstly. Rung

The first time Rung gets oral from you, it's just to blow off steam after a day, which just didn't turn out well. Man gets put through the ringer a lot with watching everyone else's mental health that sometimes he forgets to look after himself.

He's lent back in his chair venting softly one servo on the back of your head optics half lidded as he just watches, after all you had offered to help with stress relief after hearing a rumour from another human on board.

Rung is extremely high strung, so when your lips and fingers rotate between teasing his spike and pressing your face into his valve, he begins to figure something up.

It's only once he overloads and he's there optics closed debating getting up to clean up that he can still feel you eagerly cleaning up the mess.

And he just gets fixated on watching as you lick up his spike, transfluid covering your tongue and lips

He thinks its a one time thing until two days later he has you back between his thighs working him up for another overload and when he pulls you away because he doesn't want to make a mess and the protest you put up. Begging to taste him again

It is eventually a subject he takes to not just the medics but also the scientist, quite worried about the effects of it since Transfluid is. A by product of Energon. He learns that.

___

-no it isn't harmful to humans the same way energon is.

- aslong as you can limit your human on how much they consume as it can eventually give them energy sickness if they have to much 5-6 litres in a 24 time stamp

-the human body needs time to flush it out. Because it works very much the same as energy drinks if you have to much it can stop your heart or give you cardiac problems

-it's quite additive and companionable to human caffeinated drinks, and when the bots realise that there us a full meeting about the effects.

- energon seems to get converted into a very similar thing to taurine which is an amino acid containing sulphur but alot of the minerals and nutrients that Cybertronians live off from their treats, food sources and energon what adds in all the other things.

-Perceptor and ratchet discovered that Transfluid is better for human consumption than energy drinks not by a lot but more the fact you can consume more of it with less problems.

- and each bot seemed to have different 'flavours' and it becomes a full thing of asking their partner what they taste like. And eventually the 'flavour mods'

________________

And on the Case of Sunder I present to you these monsters as an offering as well.

So we have

Sunder : rehab strawberry lemonade/Ultra ruby red

Overload : rehab recovery watermelon

Senator shockwave: rehab green tea

Elita one: rehab pink lemonade

Chromia: rehab protean

Wheejack: rehab tea + lemonade

Wings : rehab gojo tea

Let me know if you would like to be added to tag list (tagged for every fic)

[cinnabunhwa]

the truth

pairing: lee minho x gn!reader

genre: hurt/comfort, heavy on the comfort, silly jokes

summary: today just won't go right. this whole week, in fact. you thought you could hold yourself together, but you're one thread away from crying. minho comforts you.

warnings: descriptions of anxiety and not being enough, guilt, crying, reader vents

words: 2,220

masterlist | taglist

a/n: whewwww my first fic and it’s a comfort fic with Minho 🥹 i think i rlly needed this so i hope that this helps anyone who needs it!!

“Y/n L/n didn’t do a single thing.”

You were in the middle of a very important meeting, displaying the powerpoint made by your team to investors. It was obvious your presentation was missing key elements and your coworkers were pinning the blame on you. You scoffed and wondered how they thought your boss would possibly believe that. It was YOU that put the info together, even spending nights after work piecing their parts together better. If it stayed as it was, the investors would have laughed in our faces. Instead, they were staring at your group with haggard expressions. These claims had started not too long ago, and they were long over it, but your coworkers did not want to budge. You put on a brave face despite their lies. Your boss turned to face you, noting the bags that lay under your eyes and sighing deeply.

“Y/n didn’t even try to keep in contact with us until yesterday,” another lied. A small cacophony of agreements burst forth, while you still had your hand up to the slide, taking everything in.

With everyone in the group trying to throw you under the bus, it’s no wonder that your boss wants to have a meeting with you on Monday before anything final happens. A saving grace by someone you’ve always known to be a fair judge. Despite that, the waiting period made your insides churn. The adrenaline from all the yelling was beginning to leave your body as you drove home, only exhaustion and an emotional downpour left in its wake.

Shaking your head to clear it, you turn your car off and grab your bags. It’s drizzling out, and you can’t afford to get caught in the rain. Can’t let those thoughts get to you. You have so much good to think about instead. Like coming home to your lovely boyfriend and his cats. Like knowing no matter what, you somehow always managed to have a roof, and you’re not often hungry. You can handle it, there’s steps that can be taken, probably. That means things are going to be okay. No matter what things need to be okay. They must be.

It's fine.

You managed to get to your door before the downpour got too bad and fumbled to get your house key. You knock in the meantime while you look, but after finding them you realize you can hear music coming from inside, so Minho probably didn’t hear you. You struggle a bit more with the keys, and push to let yourself in. The door feels heavier than usual as you melt against it, just happy to be out of the wind.

See? It’s fine. You got the door open.

Finally, you’re in a dry place, with no coworkers to lie about you, and you can just put all the heavy things down so you can come eat dinner. You made it home without much delay, and everything’s still other than the loud music coming from the kitchen. You move to place your bag on a hook, and your arm drops a bit heavier than usual. The next sound is of a hook falling to the floor, and your bag falling and crashing to the floor with it.

Things are not fine.

You hear footsteps running to the entryway of your shared apartment.

“Y/n??” Minho.

You also hear scattered smaller footprints, undoubtedly the cats running away from the loud bang. He opens his mouth to ask but hears the choked sniffle and his shoulders drop. You feel warmth on your back as he gently maneuvers past you so he can close the door. Despite trying your hardest not to sob, another sniffle gets past you and the next thing you feel is Minho enveloping you in his arms. He wraps both arms around you and pulls you close, supporting your weight so you lean on him. The tears flow, and together you stand. Sobs wracking your chest as you gasp for air, holding your boyfriend. Minho wipes your tears slowly, gently, and says nothing. He brings you further into your shared space, helping you remove your shoes, detouring to the stove to put it on low, then sits you on your favorite part of the couch. Minho grabs the fluffiest blanket you both own and wraps you in it.

He settles next to you, pulling your head to lay on his chest, ear just above his heart. You attempt to speak, but hear a gentle shush. He looks at you warmly, carding his hand through your hair with one hand, and calmly rubbing circles into your back with the other hand.

“First,” he started, “we breathe. Then we talk, ok jagi?” You nodded slowly, knowing it was no good to try to fight him on this. You nodded, opting to listen to his heart and let your brain process what it needed to. You slowed your breathing, trying to keep in time with his breaths.

While pulling the blanket up around your shoulders you sighed. The lights were dimmed, your favorite blanket was here, and your favorite human was here. You should be happy, right? You love Minho with everything you have, and you want to share happiness with him. But it’s hard.

Tears begin to prick your eyes. ‘No, it’s fine. Of course I should be happy,’ you thought. ‘I have a loving partner, a job, a roof over my head, things could be so much worse. I shouldn’t complain. Things could have gone left but I’m here.’

Your eyes begin to sting, and you sank into Minho and the couch, slowly closing them. The feeling of the couch welcomes you, and before you lose yourself completely, warm hands are placed on either side of your face. Your eyes snap open to see two worried ones staring back. He wipes at your face, tear streaks still visible. You didn’t realize you began to cry again. It’s then, looking into those eyes, that you realize you can’t hold onto it by yourself anymore.

“What’s going on, love?”

You’re silent for a few minutes. He doesn’t press you again, just slowly reaches over to where your hands are shaking. He holds his hands above yours, asking permission. Only at your nod does he fully extend. He gently holds both hands, no additional pressure, just to let you know he’s there. Sitting like this, with your bodies connected, it was getting easier to breathe.

You slowly lean closer until your forehead is pressed into his neck before whispering, “the meeting didn’t go well…”

Minho nods, rubbing slow comforting circles onto the back of your hand. He was aware of your meeting and even wished you good luck before you left this morning. You had seemed so optimistic when you left, but now you’re trying to hold yourself together.

 “didn’t go well… how? Or did something huge happen?” he asked.

Your eyes close, allowing tears to fall onto your joined hands.

“They made fun of my contribution to the project, said that I didn’t do much of anything, and my company lead didn’t defend me at all. He threw me at this deal because he said I was good enough and by the end of tonight it sounded like he was going to get rid of me.” You let out a small sob at the end of that phrase.

Being transparent didn’t come easy to you. There were a lot of times where you pretended things were okay or didn’t want to tell people things because they’d worry. There was nowhere in the world that you felt like you were believed, until Minho came along.

He puts you within arm’s reach, slowly wiping your tears.

“They’re idiots. Every single one of them. I saw how hard you worked and how put together your presentation was. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out,” he said with a finality that couldn’t be argued, even if he did say it in a low and gentle voice. “We always do.”

Minho had watched all week as you struggled to make this project come to life. He watched you plan things after work hours. The hours you spent rearranging topics and trying to make what you had work. It broke his heart to see you cry over things that were out of your control. Especially when others had been unnecessarily cruel to you. Kissing your temple, he holds you close to his chest as if protecting you from any more bad feelings.

You have been with Minho for 5 months now, sixth coming up soon. The two of you had been friends since you could count.  Wherever Minho went, your family knew “y/n wants to go!!” You were a year younger than him, but you always had each other’s backs. He was a force that teased everyone you knew. People would often think he was mean, especially when he stated things the only way he wanted to; bluntly. When prompted about why he would say things like that he only replied, “well it’s the truth.”

“Absolutely not,” you deadpanned.

Minho looked at you and rolled his eyes.

“Now you stop believing me?” He crosses his arms, “Why do you say that?”

“There’s no way you like me,” you said, laughing wildly and hopping on the rock jetty near your house.

His only response is, and ever will be, “well, it’s the truth.”

Unbeknownst to you, while you were zoned out, your boyfriend had been trying everything he could to cheer you up now that you’d both sat a little. He cracked some jokes, complimented you, and let you know whatever it is that’s bothering you will pass. But then he realized, you were zoned out. Dori even came to paw at your foot once he realized it was you but received no response.

The sound of a throat clear brings your faraway mind back from fond memories.

You turn, and you’re met with the sight of your best friend, your boyfriend Minho.

He was about to speak but saw the look on your face. Your smile was genuine, but he could see how exhausted you were from the day. The weekend is a time for fun, but it can hold a lot of big feelings from the week prior. He was determined to make it better before it officially started.

Minho raised his eyebrows. “You thinking about me? You’ve got a big smile on your face.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him and lightly shoved him. His little jokes always pulled you out of the dark clouds. He rolled off the couch and dramatically laid on the floor.

“Oh no. I’m on the floor. Whatever will I do? Who will put big smiles on y/n’s face now?” he teased in the most monotone voice he had. “How will I ever get up—”

Soonie chased Doongie and both cats ended up running right over Minho’s chest, knocking his breath out of him for a moment. He yelped and the room went silent for a moment before your laughter filled it. He pretended to be slain, in the most ridiculous pose possible, switching every few seconds to a new pose that had tears of joy falling. You clutched your stomach, as you began to breathe normally again. Minho finally gets up, laughing to himself.

“You ok, love?” you breathed.

“Yep,” he chuckled, “here let me plate your dinner for you. Stay cozy, okay?” he said, kissing your forehead before standing and heading toward the kitchen.

Minho had been making your favorite food when you came home. He was sure that no matter what the outcome of the meeting was, that having your safe food was always going to be a good idea. He filled your plate and his own and brought it to the coffee table where you sat. He sat next to you and waited for you to eat. He lets you sit quietly for a moment before deciding to take action.

“Look at me,” he requested.

You obliged, looking tearily up at him. His eyes were dark, but firm. His index and thumb lightly hold your chin to keep your gaze.

“You are so good at what you do,” he says, while gently rubbing your jawline with his thumb, “You are only one person. There’s no way your boss won’t see what’s happening once he talks to you. I know you can’t help it but try not to go through the anxiety of it happening multiple times. Things will work out somehow. I’m sure of it. Try not to put yourself through it more than you need to.”

A warmth blooms in your chest. For the first time all night, Minho sees you smile past the worries. He gives your cheeks a pinch just to make you fuss at him, and hands you a teacup. The scent of Jasmine tea is strong as you take a small sip and relish in knowing that out of all the people in the world, your favorite made your favorite food, and a cup of tea on a bad day. Minho sips his own cup, making slurping noises. He’d do anything to keep that smile on your face. You giggle at his antics and embrace his torso.

“Thank you, Minho.”

“For what?”

“For saying that.”

“Well, it’s the truth.”

cred: div

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[daz4i]

a vent-y ramble with mentions of suicidal stuff and general blegh

ppl in my life keep telling me i'm underselling my abilities when it comes to functioning and such and that i can do more than i say/think and. idk. maybe they're right? but it doesn't change the fact that everything FEELS impossible to do. even if i technically can and even if i don't feel like death afterwards, the whole starting to do the thing is the hard part. and like it's probably due to me not wanting to do any of it. it sounds silly and childish and i dunno maybe it is, but the fact is, if i don't wanna do something, my brain will do everything it can to make sure i avoid it, no matter how mundane. it used to be worse when i was a teen but now i have more foresight so like i still force myself to do things i find highly unpleasant (like brushing my teeth or going to doctor's appointments or. fuck. wearing a bra??) and while they don't feel like the end of the world once they pass (...usually), it still feels like it's taking all of my energy to start them. and ik abt executive dysfunction ik i have it but it's more than that, it's not about having to hype myself up to do something, it's the explicit purpose of avoiding it.

and i think. it's tied to my suicidal tendencies. like, my immediate thought is always "i would rather die than do this" bc that's literally true about literally everything, but it pops up more forcefully and loudly when i really really don't want to do the thing. AND ofc depression is the cause for my lack of energy

it's also like. sensory issues make so many things straight up painful. and the brain's most basic instinct is avoiding pain. so i dunno maybe it's just the instinct. so basically, these people are not wrong, i technically CAN do all these things, just like i technically CAN touch a hot stove or shove a knife in my head as long as i don't think about it too hard and force myself to ignore it and take enough medication to calm down beforehand and have someone there to support me through it. like i don't think they realize this is on the same level for me bc it just does not process in their head that these mundane actions you need to do in order to live are this painful for me. and they never will get it!!!!! or even if they do they'll say "true, it sucks, but you need to do it anyway, that's life" like omg yes i know that's why i wanna die 😭😭😭😭😭😭 come on we've gone over this so many times

that's why i keep spiraling and that's why it feels impossible. most of my energy goes into forcing myself to start actions or even just preparing myself mentally for them, more than actually doing the actions themselves. and because i don't care about anything, i have no way to recharge the way others might be able to, so i'm running at 0% at all times

anyway that was a very long way to just whinily say "but i don't wannaaaaaa 🥺"

[brbabcseu]

What are some fun facts about AJ and his friends? They look like a fun group!

Leighanne w ur permission I am kissing u in glee

I got fun facts ABOUND

They're a very fun group! Jesse's never had complaints abt them, he thinks they're all good kids. They all got their own troubles and have their moments, especially around high school, but they're kids yk? Jesse is happy to have them under his roof if they ever need an escape or a vent or what-have-you. He WOULD love it if they could keep it the hell down after 10 pm though.

Damien is the newest initiate to the group. He's a sophomore when AJ and the other three enter their freshman year. Damien got to know Maya first through extracurriculars-- he runs track and Maya figures skates! They'd hang out after their respective practices and listen to podcasts while waiting for their parents to pick them up. AJ has a huuuuge crush on Damien and everyone teases him abt it... idk I love Damien so much he's such a goober!! V much one of those kids who "acts cool" bc he's always so chill and can easily run in more popular crowds but he's not a douche, he's actually v affable, if not a little too apolitical when it comes to disagreements + drama amongst the teens. Guess he's afraid it'll make his persona less neutral, and the idea of not being able to be friends with every different clique makes him feel insecure :(

Axel is overly boisterous, moderately annoying, and incredibly funny. Will Say and Do things just to see what happens. Rule of thumb: if it provokes their group to throw proverbial tomatoes at him, he's commiting to whatever that bit is. Likes to keep the energy up and the conversation flowing, otherwise he gets too anxious (he deals with a lot of tough things internally) and his friends remind him to relax once and a while, he doesn't always have to be so On around them. Close with all of them but has a special bond with Maya; AJ coming in close second.

Maya is sunshine incarnate. She always has a way to find things beautiful. If her life isnt going to inherently be like an indie film then she's going to MAKE it like one!! And she makes it look effortless to boot. Lover of all thing doodle-y, poetry, and podcast-y. Doesn't always matter the subject; admittedly though, she has a hard time focusing on something full through. If the name or thumbnail interests her she goes "sure hell yeah" and follows it lol. Her and Ax's respective neurodivergencies fit together very well. Her and Sam love to brag about their "boy-free" outings in front of the three guys and will usually team up when everyone else is being annoying. Maya considers AJ her sweet angel baby boy and would carry him around in her pocket if she could. She lovingly gave him the nickname "AppleJack" 🥹

Sam's been around the longest. A very level head in the group, a grounding force. She knew AJ since they were in diapers so they're essentially siblings. This is evident in how they treat each other; they'll whack one another over the head w a pillow and call each other a dumbass with EASE but also be ride or die till the end. The two can share one look and burst out laughing, super silly and goofy!! Sam's mom, Eliza, is a recovering alcoholic and has been slowly but surely putting her life together while Jesse's friend and local foster mom Delilah has taken care of Sam on and off throughout the years. Eliza is good people; her and Jesse are kindred spirits. So, meeting her and seeing her as a fellow struggling parent with a history of addiction, he vouched for her a lot and tried helping her out with housing and finding work while she was at her lowest. There were a lot of playdates, so Jesse's seen Sam grow up. He was there for all her school events, helped with all the birthdays, just as he did with AJ. A lot of that connection goes unsaid-- so it hit Jesse like a freight train when one day a 12 year old Sam approaches him and very casually hands him a father's day card. "You're not my dad but you are A dad, and a good one. I never met my own real dad so thanks for being there instead," the card read. She has to watch her smirk and keep from rolling her eyes and says, "Ah, you don't gotta cry about it!" when Jesse gets that 🥺🥹 look on his face. Despite being as prickly as her mom, she accepts his bear hug and tells him she loves him. The card is still on his dresser.

Doodles!!! Respectively: Sam receiving aforementioned bear hug, Maya and Damien hanging out, and Sam and AJ at their most affectionate

[toothlespoggers]

( do not read this if you just want to vibe and look at my silly undertale posts, just read it if you’re able to handle more intense topics)

Because people seem to think everyone is on the same ‘playing field’ as them or that people who are ‘lucky’ or privileged have everything sorted out.

Stop fucking assuming every fucking autistic/adhd etc person is the same. This post isn’t directed at anyone, I just need to let this out. i am so fucking, sick. Of people assuming everyone knows everything they do about social shit, or that everyone you meet will immediately know all your fucking triggers/baggage whatever. This applies to me as well, I’m just fucking say that people need to stop acting like everyone has the same ‘common sense’ for a number of different reasons. 1. Not all fucking ppl with autism have the same abilities, fucking assuming one autistic person should know something just because you’re autistic and you know it, like certain social cues/tones in text etc.

2. Stop assuming that everyone will understand you or whatever. People come from different backgrounds, all different kinds of people exist and there’s billions of things that could be going on with someone without you realising it. (I am guilty of this) just generally don’t assume people know everything you do

3. can the fucking??? Internet stop acting like mistakes can’t fucking happen? Like for example if someone makes a mistake and they’re young, don’t make them carry that forever. If someone makes a mistake and they’re older, depending on the severity of the mistake. It should be treated differently. Stop acting like everyone has to be perfect that doesn’t fucking exist.

4. For the love of god stop assuming other people are as chronically online as you are, if you’re one of these people I’m sorry this post is generalised and vent-y not in anyways an attack on you, I’m just trying to communicate that not everyone is the same. And if you yell at someone for something or whatever, try to keep in mind that not everyone has the same algorithm as you, not everyone knows the same things as you. Literally everyone’s internet is different it is SO DIFFERENT. Not every person is naive or innocent, no. But a lot of people don’t intend to be harmful or rude when they’re engaging online. The majority of people in fact do not want to cause any harm and will gladly accept education IF GIVEN IN THE CORRECT WAY.

stop fucking assuming, stop fucking hating on people instead of educating them. Stop fucking harassing people for not being at the same level you are.

This is not to say I am not guilty of any of these things. I have stated before and will state again that shockingly wowie I’m a flawed person. Oh my god who could have guessed? So yes.

another thing is..

STOP ASSUMING SOMEONE THATS YOUR AGE WILL BE AT THE SAME PLACE YOU ARE IN MENTAL MATURITY OR WHATEVER.

this happens so much. Like not everyone matures mentally or grows as a person the same way, it may take time and I know it’s difficult because I struggle with this too, just to remember that not everyone is on the same racetrack. Some people think differently and it takes longer for them to grasp concepts that you already grasp.

now I’m not saying “oh he’s 25 and did something racist he must be misinformed” no bullshit, just do things on a case by case basis, if the person apologises in an honest way and has a reason not to know certain things and corrects it from then on it’s not a problem. There’s a difference between wilful ignorance and unintentional ignorance. Or whatever.

I don’t know if I said any of this right or correctly. But I needed to get this off my chest. You’re free to disagree, heck you’re free to correct me do whatever you want, I’m just saying how I feel at this very moment as I write this, and it may or may not be the wrong opinion. I am well aware that i do not know how my posts will be recieved until they are recieved. So there is no way to gage from my perspective if this is right or not.

I just want people that don’t understand things and get outcasted as something broken because they aren’t able to grasp ‘common’ concepts to know that it’s okay. You’re not alone. Everyone isn’t perfect and it’s okay not to know how everything works right away, I’ll be with you every step of the way as you grow. Rome wasn’t built in a day, don’t force yourself.

[requiemforthepoets]

Would you be interested in writing something for Oscar? I feel like he would be the perfect guy to have your firsts with, so understanding and cute like imagine having your first kiss with him. He would be so understanding and would kiss you with so much care and ugh I need me a man like him☹️ would you be down to write something like that?

in a world full of wrong, you’re the only thing that’s right 𖦹 OP81

PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: the idea of falling in love scares you, but at the same time, you long for it. wanting to experience how it feels like having someone by your side.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: thank you for your request! i’m sorry that this one took days, i had already finished the original version of this one, but i was not happy with it so i scraped it off and decided to write a new one. i had also took some creative liberty if it’s alright with you. i hope that this one is up to your expectations. enjoy! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, no use of y/n, traditional upbringing, reader is an only daughter, overthinking, anxiety, fear of falling in love, and some fluff

You had never been in a relationship before Oscar. In fact, you had no idea what being in love was even supposed to feel like at all. So when your friends came to you, venting about their partners or asking for some advice, you would just sit there, nodding along, and pretending to understand everything that they were saying. But the truth was that you were clueless. You had never experienced the ups and down that they spoke of. No fights over silly things, no making up with heartfelt apologies, no lingering fear of being left behind. Part of you had always wondered what it would feel like to have someone special, someone to lean on, but another part of you was terrified–utterly terrified of the vulnerability, terrified of the idea that maybe one day, that person you end up with could hurt you.

You had been raised in a traditional household, the kind where dating wasn’t just for fun, but that is meant to last with the intention of marriage. Your parents always told you to be very careful, that relationships were serious and sacred. It doesn’t help that you are an only child as well, so your parents can be really overprotective of you. So, when you found yourself daydreaming about having a boyfriend, the thought would always come with a sense of guilt. You’d see your friends with their partners and wish, even just for a second, that you could have that too. But then again, these fears would creep in–what if he cheated? What if he wasn’t who you thought he was? What if you weren’t enough? The doubts swirled around in your head constantly. But then, everything changed when you met Oscar.

You met him in a way that you never expected you would. It was during a vacation in Monaco with some friends. The week had been loud and chaotic–late night dinners, laughter, and a bit of madness here and there. Needing some peace and quiet, you decided to stroll around by yourself. The streets of Monaco were breathtaking, and you let yourself get lost in the gorgeous scenery, with your thoughts floating somewhere far away. So far that you didn’t even notice the guy speeding towards you on his bike. Before you knew it, he swerved, narrowly avoiding a collision, but you lost your balance and tumbled to the ground.

“Shit! Are you okay?” The voice was concerned but soft, and when you looked up, you saw a pair of worried eyes staring down at you. He had already jumped off his bike and was holding out his hand to help you up. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there,” Oscar said, pulling you to your feet gently. His touch was warm and cautious, as if he was afraid you’d break.

“No, no, I should have been paying attention,” you quickly brushed it off, though your heart was racing for more reasons than just the fall. Up close, he was…well, you weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline or something else, but he was strikingly handsome. You didn’t know if it was love at first sight or from the shock of falling, but something inside you shifted in that moment.

“You sure you’re okay? I feel terrible about this.” He frowned slightly, scanning you for any sign of injury. “Let me take you to a hospital, just in case.”

You laughed nervously. “I’m fine, really. There’s no need for that.”

He didn’t seem convinced at all, but after some insistence, Oscar backed off. “Alright, if you’re sure. At least let me make it up to you. How about some coffee? My treat.”

Well, that’s pretty much how it all began. One coffee turned into another, then into long conversations about everything and nothing. You couldn’t quite believe how easy it was to talk to him. Usually you’d find yourself nervous around guys, but he was kind, thoughtful, and never made you feel uncomfortable and pressured. Slowly, those coffee dates turned into something more, and before you know it, Oscar had asked you to be his girlfriend. Though you couldn’t help but cringe when you thought back to the moment you said yes to him. You had never been so flustered, unsure of how to respond, that instead of a kiss like a normal person, you just gave him a hug. A damn hug. You had felt his arms wrap around you tightly, his laughter vibrating in his chest.

“So I take it that it’s a yes, then?” he had asked, his voice teasing but soft.

You had nodded into his shoulder, very embarrassed beyond belief. But Oscar being Oscar, he didn't care. He hadn’t even brought it up afterwards, as if he’d expect nothing more than that simple embrace–and that’s what you loved about him. Oscar never pushed you, never made you feel like you always had to rush into anything. He was patient and understanding in a way that felt comforting. Sometimes, late at night, you would lie next to him, just staring at the ceiling, wondering how you got so lucky. The fears you once had, the doubts that plagued your mind–none of them seemed to matter anymore every time you are with him.

One evening, after spending the day together exploring the city, you found yourselves sitting on a park bench, watching the sunset. It was quiet, the kind of comfortable silence that you loved and felt like home.

“Do you ever wonder if this is all real?” you asked him, your voice barely above a whisper. Oscar turned to look at you, his expression gentle. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know…sometimes I just can’t believe this is happening. I never thought I’d be in a relationship like this. Felt overwhelming and surreal sometimes.” he smiled, reaching out to take your hand in his. “I get it. I never thought I’d meet someone like you either.”

You blushed at his words, feeling the warmth of his hand in yours. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do,” he said, squeezing your hand lightly. “You don’t have to worry, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

At that moment, you knew. You knew very well that all the fears you once had, all the time you had spent overthinking and countless anxiety–they didn’t matter anymore. None of it matters anymore. With Oscar, you felt safe, loved, and secured in a way you had never imagined. He wasn’t just your first boyfriend, he was your first in everything–the first person to show you what love really felt like.

Six months into your relationship with Oscar, you had managed to avoid what most people would consider a natural part of being a couple–kissing him on the lips. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, hell you definitely do want to kiss him so badly, to the point you had daydreamed about it plenty of times, thinking about how his lips might feel against yours. But every time you thought about it, your mind would spin, and your nerves would take over. You’d never kissed anyone before, and the idea of messing up, of completely not knowing what to do, terrified the shit out of you. Sure, you had kissed him on the cheeks, hugged him endlessly, but never once had your lips touched his. You couldn’t help but wonder how Oscar was so patient with you, how he never complained or pushed for more, he was very understanding in a way that made you feel safe. Sometimes, you even questioned how he could be satisfied or survived with just a few cheek kisses.

Yes, you had been raised in such a traditional household, but Oscar was special–so incredibly special–that the pressure you put on yourself to make the moment perfect felt overwhelming. Still, you knew that at some point, you’d have to gather the courage to just do it. But every time you tried to psych yourself up, you’d just freeze, thinking about it drove you crazy. There would be times where you’d hear people joke about you being a prude, or wonder aloud how anyone could go long without kissing their partner on the lips, but the truth was, you were just terrified.

Then came Baku. It was Oscar’s second win at the Baku Grand Prix, and you had traveled to the race with his family to cheer him on. The excitement in the air was evident as you stood by the barricades at the Parc Fermé, anxiously waiting for him to climb out of his car. Your heart raced as you watched him pull into the P1 space, his car coming to a stop, and pulled himself out of the cockpit.

Your heart nearly stopped when he stumbled slightly as he got on the top of his car, and you had to suppress the urge to vault over the barrier to make sure he was okay. But Oscar quickly steadied himself, he then pulled off his helmet and balaclava in one smooth motion, his hair a sweaty mess, but his eyes bright with victory. Oscar spotted you instantly, a wide grin breaking out across his face as he ran quickly towards you, and before you knew it, you were wrapped up in his arms. You held him tightly, feeling the energy and adrenaline coursing through him as he hugged you back.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whispered against his shoulder, the words almost lost in the noise of the crowd. “You were incredible.”

Oscar pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands finding their place gently on your cheeks. His thumb brushed your skin softly, and for a brief moment, the noise of the world around you seemed to fade away. He gazed at you with so much love in his eyes, the kind that made your heart flutter. Oscar had always been patient, understanding, never once pressuring you into anything you weren’t ready for. He knew about your fears, about how you hadn’t had your first kiss yet, but you had never told him why. Even without knowing the full reason, he had always respected your space and waited for you to feel comfortable.

But something was different today. The way he looked at you was different, and you felt it too–a shift inside you, a calmness you hadn’t expected. You weren’t scared at this moment, not with him. Somehow, Oscar seemed to sense that change too. He smiled softly, his hands still cradling your face as he leaned in just slightly.

“Is this okay?” he asked quietly, giving you the chance to back out if you needed to.

Your heart raced in your chest, feeling like it was gonna leap out from your chest, but for the first time in months, it wasn’t out of fear. It was out of love, out of excitement, out of knowing that this was the moment. You smiled up at him, nodding gently. That was all he needed.

Oscar’s touch remained as gentle as ever, his hands caressing your face as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. It was familiar, comforting, something he’d done a thousand times before. Then, he kissed the tip of your nose, making you giggle softly, your nerves starting to melt away. Then finally, he leaned down and kissed you on the lips.

The world seemed to stop as his lips met yours, soft and warm, and everything you had feared about this moment vanished. It wasn’t awkward or overwhelming like you had imagined–it was simple, perfect. Oscar kissed you gently, not rushing, not pushing for more than you were ready for. It was the kind of kiss that made you feel safe, like he was letting you know that this was just the beginning, and there was no need to rush. When he pulled back slightly, his forehead rested against yours, both of you smiling softly, sharing a private moment amidst the chaos of the race celebrations around you.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Oscar teased you lightly, his voice warm and full of affection. You laughed softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I guess not,” you whispered, hands still resting against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

Oscar smiled, kissing your forehead again, and you knew in that moment that no matter how scared you had been before, being with him made everything feel right.

Later that evening, after all the chaos of the podium celebrations, press interviews, and flood of congratulatory messages, you found yourself in a much quieter setting with Oscar and his family. The energy from the race still buzzed in the air, but there was a sense of calm now, a comfortable warmth that filled the room as you all gathered around for a private celebration. You felt so at home with his family, like you were part of the family, and in moments like these, you couldn’t help but think of how lucky you were to have Oscar and this incredible group of people who treated you with so much love.

Dinner was simple but perfect, the conversation flowing easily between stories of the race and light-hearted teasing. You were sitting beside Oscar, with your hand resting comfortably under the table, something that felt so natural now, like an unspoken connection between the two of you. He would glance over at you every now and then, giving you that boyish smile that made your heart skip a beat every time. The moment you shared earlier at the track still lingered in your mind–your first kiss. It felt surreal, but in the best way possible.

After the dinner, Oscar had asked if he can spend the remainder of the night with you alone, to have some private moment. His family agreed and a few teasing had been made as well, but you and Oscar just laughed. By then, you decided to return to the hotel, to have some private and alone time with each other. Oscar sat beside you on the couch, his arms draped casually around your shoulders, pulling you close. His fingers played lightly with a strand of your hair as you leaned into him, your head resting on his chest. The bustling noise of the city seemed to fade into the background as you focused on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about that kiss all night,” Oscar whispered suddenly, his voice low so only you could hear him. Your cheeks flushed, and you turned slightly to look up at him, your lips curling into a shy smile. “Yeah? What about our kiss?”

He grinned, eyes twinkling with amusement. “It was worth the wait. I’ve been waiting for that moment since the day I met you. Being it during my win made it more special.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes playfully, though the butterflies in your stomach refused to settle. “You’re just saying that.” Oscar chuckled softly, his thumb brushing gently over your shoulder. “I’m serious. I’m not sure you realize how patient I’ve had to be. But you’re worth every second.”

You felt your heart was about to combust at his words, and you felt yourself melt a little more into his side. There was something about the way Oscar always knew how to make you feel special, how he could say the simplest things and make you feel like the most important person in the world.

You smiled up at him, your voice soft as you said, “I’m really glad it was you. I’ve always been scared of what it would be like, but you made it…perfect.”

Oscar’s expression softened, his eyes full of that warmth and affection you had come to adore. “That’s all I wanted. For it to feel right for you.” Leaning up slightly, you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, feeling a surge of affection as you did so. “Thank you for waiting.”

“I’d wait a lifetime for you if I had to.” he smiled, resting his forehead against yours for a moment before pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

For the first time, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[yu-and-rei-vi]

Pinned post of the F1RST(?) Virus/Vaxx account on Tumblr

Hewwo ^w^

Am spade from hit twitter account Yu and Rei Virus (but with more art) aka a they/them (she/he in gendered languages/ ella/el en lenguajes como español :3)

I am a silly little minor who will post about my inconveniences and interests

Also known as ♠️ 👻 anon on daily-klug

A Virus/Vaxx account (typically found on twitter) is an account dedicated to spreading a character (usually a vtuber) around

In my case, I spread the word of Yu and Rei from Puyo Puyo!

My timezone is CST (US Central) for whoever wants to know!

Other blogs: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Silly website/about me summary/idk: jqkskbeodnskdnsjw

Interest list

Puyo Puyo (Yu and Rei my beloved)

Vsynths (save me flower)

Vtubers (🅱️in, my oshi)

Slime Rancher

Portal

Art

FAITH: The Unholy Trinity

Finado y Moribunda (yes you read that right only them, not the whole Las Leyendas/Legend Quest thing (it is good tho))

DNI

General DNI (pedos, homo/transphobes)

Nsfw blogs

Proshippers

uhh idk what else to add

Posts I make

Me

Art

Rants (very short, prob not even rants)

Vents (usually on twt tho soooooo)

Reblogs (notifs count this as a post so I will too)

Puyomon (my silly Pokémon x Puyo thing I started, all posts related to it use #puyomon)

:3

FAQ (not frequently asked)

Do you take commissions?

No, I don’t have any kind of account anywhere that the money can go into.

Can I tag you on tag games?

Yes! I like getting tagged in general, although I may not always continue the chain

Can I send in art requests (in asks)?

Yup! In fact, it’s encouraged! I’ll sometimes make posts asking for requests with certain characters

Can I use your real name since we’re irls?

No. Because I (and whoever may ask) am a minor, I don’t want to compromise my safety

What’s your age?

See: “Can I use your real name since we’re irls?”

Why won’t you answer my dm/ask? Are you ignoring me!

I’m not really good with DMs being sent to me so I usually won’t respond (and may delete them), as for asks, I probably wasn’t comfortable answering or thought it was spam or a scam

I don’t accept donation asks, I just reblog them from others

IDFK

🩺 🍫: @drchoko (gets a tag: erm what the choko)

🍎: @the-appel-store (aka @.tees-wife-and-gf)

a

hope you can handle my goofiness

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Userbox by @lgbtq-userboxes

[idle-starship]

A Serious Update

TW // Vent; mentions of suicide, death, and violence against trans people; overall a bummer to read.

I'm aware this is not my usual style of posting, at least on Tumblr, but I just want to give an update on where I am now regarding my life and how that could affect my stories and this blog. I apologize if this post gets a tad bit vent-y. I also apologize for not posting regularly as of late. In fact, I may not be able to keep up with once a day posts and updates about my stories, at least not right now.

I'm sure many of you are aware of the current situation in America; many anti-transgender bills are being passed, and our community is facing the threat of genocide. I don't use this term lightly. We are currently in stage 7 out of 10.

As you can imagine this has affected my mental (and possibly my physical) health severely. I can tell I've slipped into a crisis mode mindset. Or maybe it's called survival mode? I'm not sure, but it doesn't matter. I'm scared for my life.

It's my dream to share my stories and characters with the world, and my biggest fear is that my life will be cut short before I can do that. I've cried my eyes out at the thought that these characters will die with me. I know that it's silly and kinda depressing to value my life around my creations, but if it weren't for these characters I don't think I would still be here. Honestly. These silly little characters have gotten me through so much, and I've come to love them as if they were my close friends.

The fact that my dream could be shot down just because I'm trans is... It's something that I've grappled with before, but never like this. It's soul-crushing.

I guess the point that I'm trying to make is that we're in the middle of a fucking crisis. I don't have the time or energy to keep up with this blog on a regular basis, and I'm dropping the whole "one story a week" system I had, at least for now. I will be posting when I can and when I feel like it.

But I do still want to post here. Like I said, I want to share my stories before I die. And if that means info-dumping on Tumblr before I get hate-crimed or die by suicide (which I have no intention of doing), then... well, it's not what I hoped for, but it's better than nothing.

The future looks bleak, but I want to keep creating for as long as I can. All I want to do is make people smile.

Anyway, I should probably end on a happy note. I've got a new hyperfixation on Trigun Stampede, so that's pretty fun! Most of my creative energy the past week or so has actually gone into a Vash x Reader fanfiction, which I will be posting the first chapter of tonight on AO3! This franchise has been a great way to keep my mind off things, and I'm very grateful to have something to turn to for a quick lil dose of serotonin. Also, my Birthday is in a couple days! I'll be turning 19! I'm also planning on making an animatic featuring me and my main OC Dash for the occasion, although I doubt I'll be able to finish it in time for my birthday, but that's ok!

Alright, I'm gonna go publish that fic now. Take care everyone, love y'all 🫶

[gwyns-writing]

the toxin in some spit that flies off of a sharp tongue drives me to an enragement near homicidal, a despair near depression, and a hopelessness near the inclination to resign.

why can't people learn to be kind.

why can't people learn to be kind.

why can't people learn to be kind.

[jujutsukatsuki]

The plush leather seat welcomed you as you slipped into your usual spot. A sigh you held between your lips. He was going to show up soon. Your best friend, Eren. You needed to vent to him lately about how work sucked. You ordered both your and his normal coffees.

The bell of the cafe door dinged as the door was pulled open. The sound of the wind outside was quite strong inside the quiet little café. You watched as Eren walked in, hands stuffed into his pockets, hair tied back in a messy bun with strands flopping every which way. You smiled as you remember the day you met Eren.

You were suppose to be on a date, but you got stood up. So crying in a booth seemed more fun. Not really but here you were. Sniffling to yourself when a tall figure loomed over you.

“Hey, you good?” You looked towards the sound. The lighting behind illuminated him to look sort of like an angel.

“I’m okay. Do you want the booth? I’m sorry I’ll move.” You wipe your tears on the sleeve of your jacket and start to get up.

“Nah, it’s all good, can I sit with you?”

You nod before you can really think about the fact you’re crying and sitting with a handsome stranger. You took the time to finally look at him. Brown hair that was pulled into a messy bun at the back of his head, strands of hair hung down framing his face. His grey eyes popped in the café lighting, flecks of blues and greens that you could get lost in. His form normally would intimidate you but something about him comforted you instead.

“I’m Eren. Eren Yeager.” He smiled and gave you a napkin to dry your face.

“Y-Y/N.. Y/N Y/L.” You took the napkin and dabbed at your face.

“Well Y/N, why don’t you tell me why a gorgeous girl like you is crying?”

The way he looked at you made you feel like you were the only girl in the world. You noticed that his lips were slightly chapped. Unsure if that was for the cold weather outside or maybe a bad habit. You continued to analyze his face, His jawline was sharp, like it had been handcrafted by the gods. His appearance could be very intimidating, but it was like he had the aura of a puppy.

Eren sat there, looking at you. He waited for the answer for your tears. He ignored the buzzing phone in his pocket of his friends wondering where he had run off too after the birthday party for Historia.

You started to explain how you were suppose to be on a date with a guy but he stood you up. You told him how you knew it was silly to cry over. Eren countered that he understood and it wasn’t silly. You scoffed internally, like anyone could turn this god like man down.

He couldn’t help but notice the way your hands shook as you talked, how your eyes wandered down to the table. One thing led to another and you were spilling your life story to him.

You told him about your parents and how they fought, how you only saw your father cry once and it was when your mother said she regretted meeting him. You talked about how your dad told you that marriage was a waste of time.

Eren didn’t mind one bit, he loved hearing your voice, you comforted him in a way he didn’t understand.

Somehow you told him stories of your first boyfriend being awful to you, how your second one seemed like the love of your life but he unfortunately died before anything could progress.

He shared stories of his friends, how they were a bunch of misfits all stuck together. Mikasa the goth, Armin the brain. They sounded lovely to you.

So you shared stories of your friends. The ones who meant the world to you but you didn’t mean much to them. The ones who loved you but left so you could grow without them. Eren gently grabbed your hand when you talked about your parents divorcing when you were young. How messy and uncomfortable everything was. You even shared how mean your mom could be when she doesn’t approve.

The touch of his hands on yours was everything, it was like thousands upon thousands of electricity went through your body when you and him touched. Eren became your everything that night. You went as far as to tell him about your thoughts on yourself. That your heart was damaged beyond repair and couldn’t be returned because someone threw the receipt away.

It was like once you opened your mouth. You couldn’t stop. Neither could Eren. He loved talking to you about everything and anything. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he got to have a conversation this meaningful, he opened up about how his father was an asshole who didn’t care about him or his mother. How he cheated on his mom all the time, even had a older brother to prove it. Eren told you about how he saved Mikasa from a home invasion, that she came to live with them after.

Eren opened up about the nights he’s quiet, how he gets lost in his own weeded mind. The nights he forgets about anything that’s appealing about himself. How he feels like he loses his balance and falls into an abyss of thoughts that never seem to stop.

You share with him about the nights you trip over your own feet and stumble on your words. How your mind forces you to apologize over and over for the mess you made even if it wasn’t inherently your fault. Eren gives you a look that calms the screams of anxiety and worry.

You tell him that. That the way he’s looking at you seems to feel like a short cut in her labyrinth mind. A labyrinth you built yourself as a defense mechanism to protect yourself. The smile that shines on Eren’s face as you talk about how you feel like the only girl in the world when he looks at you. A smile that holds zero judgement or malicious intent.

By the time either of you are pulled from the trance of each other, it’s late. You’ve learned about Eren’s issues with his self image, the war he fights in his mind. The issues he has with feeling alone. That he feels like he’s in a wrestling match with himself, he feels like he’s always about to get pinned and wants to tap out but something or someone makes him keep fighting.

The two of you end up at Eren’s apartment. Sitting on the plush couch, you’re wrapped up in each other as you watch a random movie to make fun of together. A fresh layer of snow is coating Shiganshina.

Eren sits down across from you, a smile on his lips.

“What are you thinking about princess?” His voice is gentle as he talks to you.

“The day I met my best friend.”

Eren smiles and grabs your hand, giving it a small squeeze.

“That’s my favorite day babe.” You nod and smile at him, someday you’ll tell him you’re in love with him, but not now.

You can’t lose him.

[unniekiwi]

𝗦𝗡𝗞. 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝗼𝗻 𝗮 𝘁𝗼𝗽𝗶𝗰 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲. 𝗽𝟭.

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ꒱��♡ ˚.*ೃ꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

Eren TP.1-3:

Unlike Hange with the titans or Armin with the sea, the truth is that Eren has not been a boy with big-time dreams. But his passion to exterminate the titans, the tenacity and determination he put in to accomplish that goal reflected in his emerald eyes makes you admire him.

He usually gets angry while talking about the giants, with his eyebrows slightly furrowed. He uses brute and strong gestures. But looking at you and seeing you listening to him calms him down.

Realizing that that's all he's talking about. And he's already told you about it like a thousand times and he always says - I'm sorry Y/N. I always talk about the same thing and get angry. I´ll shut up. - But you answer him back - No. I like listening to you Eren. It's normal that you want to get it out, but it's usually never enough. I understand you, it's the same for me. So you can keep talking. -

His nose and ears blush. He really appreciates that you understand his anger and way of venting. Not everyone understood him, watching his mother being eaten really left him with a trauma that was hard to overcome.

So he slightly smiles at you. - Thank you Y/N. Not everyone prefers to listen to a person who only talks about the same thing…-

He really appreciates having someone else to listen to him besides Armin and Mikasa. Don't get me wrong, it's not that he doesn't appreciate these two. I mean Armin always listens to him and gives him advice, and Eren does the same with him. Mikasa on the other hand, is just more of a listener.

You showing that side of interest earns you a lot of his trust. Plus everything he tells you, you don't tell anyone.

Armin:

Armin doesn't tell you his dream just like that. In fact, he tells you his dream because you asked him one day while you were having lunch a few months after you enlisted.

When he starts to tell you about it, he is a bit embarrassed, maybe you think he's crazy or that it's silly. In fact, he finds it hard to look you in the eye due to embarrassment.

But seeing you with a smile on your face as he talks makes him more confident and he tells you about the sea and everything he wants to visit.

He would be so excited that you laugh at how excited he is.

And when you ask him more about it? You already have him at your feet. You've already won him over. He's already thinking about everything he's going to share.

He starts talking and answering questions then gets surprised and he tells you. - That's it! You should go with us! - he is really excited, he wants you in every plan of expedition into the unknown.

Suddenly he tells you - Oh, sorry! I got so excited that I almost didn't let you speak.- - Easy, go on. - He smiles and keeps on talking happily.

Mikasa:

Mikasa is more private with her tastes. But I feel she would be fascinated with astrology, she would love to see the stars and love the moon no matter its phase.

So if you discovered her passion for the stars, it's because you first said you liked them and she replied - You too? -

It's not very usual to know much about stars in the SNK world, so you would ask Armin for a book about them. As you knew almost nothing about them, she would tell you everything she knows, and she would gladly explain everything, from the stars, to why the phases of the moon happen.

Mikasa would be very calm telling you things she likes, she would always have a slight smile on her face. Also, if she sees you with interest she would be very grateful. Mikasa is not good with words, so she would do you favors.

What she would like the most would be to share opinions or likes with you, so seeing that she finally has someone to talk about, makes her trust you much more. Furthermore, your relationship would become closer.

Show her more interest in the subject and you have her all nervous and excited. Obviously, she wouldn't show it but she would stutter a little.

If you told someone about the stars or talked to someone else about them she would get a little jealous. So if you were to find out about it, it would be better, because it would make her insecure that she is going to lose the friendship. Take care of her.

[doycngs]

johnny suh. | guts.

summary. fuck it. if this is really your last chance to say anything, you’re going to reach out to the boy you never had the guts to love. 

pairing. y/n x nct’s johnny

genre. old best friends to lovers!au 

word count. 4k.

warnings. gender neutral!reader, swearing, angst, dark themes that deal with death and sickness, if you think there is anything else please don’t hesitate to let me know, thank youuu

hi! this is pretty different from my usual stuff so please read the warnings and be safe <3 

|—————|

ISN’T IT FUNNY how, when you pass a stranger on the street, you could never bat an eyelash as to where they’re heading, what they had done that day, what they were going to do? 

It’s entertaining, people-watching. You do it all the time and sometimes you feel like the only person on Earth doing the relaxing activity. 

After everything that you’ve been told, all the positive, uplifting news meant to keep your hopes going, and the harsh, realistic facts meant to make you rationalize your time, some would think: Why would you waste your time people-watching? 

It’s not a waste of time for you. If anything, it’s time suspended. Where if you space out hard enough, you can sit on a bench in the subway for an hour and feel an out-of-body experience. Almost like you’re within a video game, watching NPCs roam within their program. 

But people-watching can get exhausting and mentally draining when the real thoughts kick in. When you know you’ll never experience what strangers deal with, such as everyday life, a sense of normalcy and routine in their day. 

Then it’s not so entertaining anymore, that feeling of being isolated— of being the only one conscious of what you’re hiding. 

It’s what prompted you to make a journal. And not the one where you talk about everything under the sun or the ones where you vent about something irritating. 

You suppose it’s more of a… bucket list of sorts. 

Pages and pages filled with bullet lists of things to do. From mundane things like doing laundry and taking a hot bath, to more daredevil things like dining and ditching, and doing graffiti. It’s your grasp at normalcy and routine, albeit in a strange way. Any minute desire you feel is written down in a pocket-sized leather book, a small elastic strap that holds the page you’ve left it on. 

You’ve done many of the ones that don’t require company; they’ve been crossed out in the cheap paper of your little bound-book for a while. The ones done at home are relaxing and it’s easy being by yourself. At least until you look at the bullet points that feel wrong doing alone. 

But how do you cross them off if you don’t have anyone by your side? Or at least, with anyone that knows why you’re holding such a silly little index anyway…

Never mind even approaching the bullet points you’ve thought of on very outcast nights. The ones in the back of the book are hard to read because… they’re scary and they’re real. And they’re something that will eventually have to be done before the time comes. 

It’s procrastination that pushes the page that includes people away. But… then again, procrastination involves doing the actual deed of said thing soon. You’re not ready for soon. And you think there is never a way to be ready for soon, no matter how hard you try with this bucket list. 

You do get a wake call though when you naturally rise at ten A.M. It’s a strange thing to worry about— sleeping in— but being an early bird by heart, it’s concerning. The food in your fridge starts piling up more too. Not that there was much in it to begin with, living alone in a one-bedroom apartment, but dinner starts going uncooked some nights. Breakfast gets skipped on days you can’t bother. Lunch is forgone for something else considered more worth the time. 

And your voice is hoarse now. When you finally feel the need to speak, maybe to a train conductor collecting tickets or a person who held the door for you, you sound different to yourself. Perhaps the scariest warning, you think— not sounding like yourself. 

With these forewarnings, your fingers flit to the back page. And the first bullet point is easy to start with. 

Text Jisung. Your little brother who you adore so much. 

You can adore someone and talk to them very little. And growing apart from him with life getting in the way has been one of your many regrets in life. 

Trying not to overthink anything, you shoot a text of a simple hello in greeting, praying he has the same phone number from high school. It takes him an hour to reply and a whoosh of relief rushes over you.

You begin to exchange developments in each other’s life and at the new, great things going for your baby brother, your eyes well up. But you don’t let any tears fall. 

One thing checked off. 

Next, is visiting Father who’s in the next city over, around a day’s trip away by train. Not prolonging anything anymore, you go the next day after having checked off Jisung on your list. 

Of course, Father doesn’t recognize your face or your voice or anything along that line. But it’s nice to sit within the same room as him. It’s nice to read to him and pretend that he knows the child he has raised for half his life, listening to the story you utter from your lips. 

In the failing memory of your father, the flitting desire to spill all your secrets to him rises from the pit of your stomach. 

The story you read shifts to details about you and what will happen to you after you’re gone. There’s a tear that escapes his left eye, and you take that sentiment with you home. 

Then, you try to approach relationships from long ago. Like college-level old— junior-year-shared-apartment and party-goings old. 

You didn’t know exactly how to approach this one. But a search of alumni on your college website did help a little. The scavenging for your old phone, chipped from drunk stumbles in your early twenties too, helped tremendously. 

The first person that is starred in your contacts is Johnny, of course. After pushing him to the back of your mind for so long, it’s a wonder how you don’t become overcome with emotion. 

Johnny hadn’t changed his phone number. And you risk a call this time, just to attempt to hear the voice that used to comfort you after failed exams and your overdramatic reactions to reality TV shows. 

He doesn’t pick up which causes your throat to constrict like a boa around your neck. But his soothing tone in the personal voicemail gives you hope. Sadly, the choked-up sound of your voice had not recovered in time to speak like a healthy-sounding person in the message you leave. 

And maybe that’s what impacted him to return your call soon after you had left it. 

In between the time it takes for Johnny to get back to you, Jungwoo’s digits are pressed into your keypad. There’s a ruckus that bursts your eardrums, having little loud sounds in your usual holed-up day at home. 

“Hello?” 

“Uh… hi.”

“Who is this?”

“Y/N.” 

A mellow space takes up the pause as Jungwoo tries to recall you from memory. It gets that constricting feeling biting back. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t—”

There’s a loud yelling of his name, reprimanding him for trying to get out of tequila shots. But Jungwoo waves it away as he walks toward quietness, instead, focusing on this voice over the phone that sobers his thoughts.

“Sorry, what was that? It was really loud in there.”

You swallow your pride, pushing back the desire to hang up. 

“Y/N, from Kwangya Uni. Um, from junior year.” 

“Oh shit! Hi, hi! How are you? This is… crazy, why are you calling?” 

A smile flits over your cracked lips before you can help it. “Hi, I’m… good. I’m good. I just wanted to— I don’t know, just call.” 

His familiar jingles of laughter fly through the receiver. “No, no, I’m glad you did. It’s nice hearing from you again. It’s been what? Like six-seven years since graduation? Holy fuck…” 

You force a chuckle out. “Yeah, yeah… I guess it has.” 

It felt like yesterday for you. 

“So um, are you just calling up old mates from uni?” 

“Something like that, yes.” 

“How’s Doyoung doing? Kun, Taeil, Xiaojun? Oh, are you and Johnny finally a thing? The rest of us used to root for you two all the time!” 

Your heart burns. It burns like someone had lit a raging fire on it. It hurts more than you should have known. 

You wish you had had the guts to love him the way you had always wanted to. 

The way your old college friends wished for too. 

At your belated reply, Jungwoo backtracks. 

“I’m— going to assume not, which is— fine! Uh,” Jungwoo is yelled at to come back in and he sighs, “I gotta’ go but let’s— let’s keep in touch, okay? Don’t be a stranger.” 

You can only hum as you lean back into your seat at the dining table, both hands now weakly clutching your phone. 

“Okay, bye Y/N.” 

He ends the call before you can utter your own goodbyes. 

After that, you don’t have the energy to slide and answer Johnny’s call. And it rings and rings within your empty apartment, which feels desolate after the cacophony you heard through Jungwoo’s side. 

You’re sickeningly reminded of how alone you are. The incessant ringing seems like a mocking instead of something that could be of good anymore. You feel childish hanging on to threads of the times you felt young and alive and everything was all good in the world. 

Johnny knew you all too well— way better than Jungwoo did back then— and you have no doubt that your scary voicemail caused his hackles to rise in worry. You’re tired of being the object of someone’s empathy for today, whether it be you being a broken piece of a perfect pair, a horrible recluse of a sibling, or a forgotten child under the clutches of dementia. 

Johnny doesn’t call back. You don’t make an effort to either and there’s a week of the same thing over and over again. 

Suddenly, everything about the home you’ve created for yourself irks you. The blood, sweat, and tears you put into your first apartment alone was a prison you put yourself in. 

The sunshine kitchen tiles you worked hard on pasting in were painstaking to look at whenever you walked into the small room. The dining table fit only two chairs and you wanted to bang the one that went cold all the time against the wall. The use of such a big loveseat made you undeniably angry without reason. 

Worst of all was the fucking silence. 

The silence that jeered to you that you were all alone in this world. It felt punishing to be in your own home and yet you couldn’t step a foot outside the way you used to crave to. For once, you feared the strangers and their gazes that never once fell on you… finally looking over to see how much of a disaster and sad living being you were. 

It all comes to a standstill when you can’t sleep though; the one escape you had from your living hell wouldn’t save you anymore and the scream that rips from your lips finally comes. 

The gut-wrenching sobs and the hair-pulling come down onto you like a heavy downpour of reality. You were going to be alone until the last moment and it was your fault. The crippling fear of being rejected, the one you’ve felt your entire life, was ultimately at its strongest, debilitating your reasoning. 

So when you hear your phone ring after you have ripped the last page of your leather-bound book to pieces, you spit rage at Johnny. 

You finally tell someone about the pain you’ve been hiding for so long. And then spit heat and hate and everything in between to the boy you had once cherished with your entire self for being the only person who stood beside you. Who was the person who could read you like an open book and know when you were about to fall apart. The boy you used to believe would perhaps accept your love one day. The person that could know you were not okay right now, not in this very moment where you felt like you might suffocate under anguish. 

Johnny’s lack of response over the phone is deafening, even over your screaming and cursing. And in the back of your head, you note the complete silence of his side of the call, no background noise. It completely mirrored your own hollow apartment. 

When you calm down and your fists clench to stop from throwing your device against the wall, Johnny breathes out once and you follow silently. 

He does it for you to do the same with such tranquility, the tears start to flow once more. By the time you’re hiccupping and struggling to keep from going under again, Johnny speaks. 

“Where are you right now?” 

You tell him your address and he’s over in the blink of an eye. He cradles your frame in a big hold and it feels like an old home that you abandoned seven years ago. 

Johnny whispers reassurances into your ear and of times of hilarity. He tells of the times you felt alive around strangers. When you were one of them with a sense of normalcy and a routine. 

He speaks of when another person could have glanced over to you and seen a normal university student on the subway, heading to their class with a friend bumping against their shoulder. 

Or of a puzzle piece, perfectly fit at a bowling alley with buddies, bent over from laughter at Xiaojun’s technique. Of a desperate coffee run with Doyoung, sprinting with him to get to class on time after the bus came late. Of stifling laughter with the palm of your hand at your supervisor as Jungwoo makes ridiculous gestures behind her back. Of grinning, ecstatic at a good exam grade, and celebrating with Johnny on a Saturday night, wine and pizza laid out. Of crawling into his bed after a long day and being able to cuddle your worries away in his warm embrace. 

Of a person not on the verge of dying, a week away from disappearing and having nobody remember who they were. 

You fall asleep in Johnny’s arms without a single thing in your stomach. Sleep overcomes you like a soft blanket and if it were your final moment, you think you would be happy to at least have seen one person, especially Johnny of all people, before you had gone. 

But you wake up and it’s not a vacant home anymore. It’s to the sound of crackling and popping, signature sounds of breakfast. The smell of food cooking in the kitchen you had abandoned for its atrocious, happy color, is occupying a broad back and a humming man who breathes life. 

You watch Johnny move around in the space like he owns it. A black sleep tee and plaid pajama pants adorn his big body, ebony hair frizzy from sleep. If you were watching from a third perspective and knew nothing about this entire situation, you would have thought Johnny lived here his entire life, who was simply cooking for his partner like it was any other morning. 

When he turns your way, an easy smile creases his full cheeks and a cup of coffee is placed before you on the dining table. He doesn’t give you enough time to judge whether the smile is real or not. 

Your voice is hoarse like it always is. “I can’t have coffee.” 

Johnny blinks at that, sipping at his own cup. Humming, he bemuses, “Why?” 

“Doctor says my bladder movements are smaller. Only water from now on.” 

“More for me then.” Johnny shrugs, taking your share and pouring it into his own. 

He knocks his chin toward sitting and you do so belatedly. Johnny occupies the seat opposite to you, filling the prolonged emptiness that used to be there. 

A plate is placed before you but you feel no need to dig in. 

“Why are you still here?” 

Johnny looks up from his food, no hint of any normal emotion in this situation revealing itself. 

“You told me your address.” 

“And it didn’t mean to stay over.” 

“Well, I am now, so.” 

His bags are laid down near the foot of the couch, already overflowing with his clothes and bathroom products. He must have left the house while you were asleep to fetch his things.

“So you’re going to stay here and watch me die?” 

Your bluntness makes Johnny flinch. You’re happy with the reaction. It lifts your mood a bit, as sick as it was to think. 

“Don’t put it that way.” 

“You have a job, no?” 

“I called off.” Johnny states to his plate, his fork scraping off the ceramic. It grates your ears but you can’t find yourself complaining. 

At your perceived silence, Johnny gestures toward your eggs. “Eat before it gets colder.”  

“I’m not hungry.” 

“How are you expecting to reach the end of this week if you’re not going to eat?” 

“Is that a bad thing?” 

He finally breaks, slamming a fist down on the table and shaking everything on it. You were expecting the burst to come and Johnny itches more at the neutral, almost bored expression on your face. 

“Don’t fucking say things like that. Please.” His black hair falls into his eyeline, which emanates desperation and anger. 

“I’m stating what I think.” 

“Fucking eat.” 

Picking up a fork, the eggs are cold in your mouth. Your stomach quietly thanks you for the reprieve, not knowing the old friend across from you was its savior. 

You can only stomach half the eggs and leave the rest. Johnny takes it for what it is and cleans up after you both. He wished you would ask more questions, no matter how depressing they were. Johnny wanted to hear your voice as much as you allowed. 

“So what are we doing today?” Johnny asks as he leans against the doorframe of the kitchen. You’re sitting in the same position as before, simply entertained at watching Johnny clean up. 

“Nothing.” 

“We’re not doing nothing.” 

“It’s my last days we’re talking about. I can decide for myself.” 

Johnny pulls your leather-bound book from his back pocket, to which you bristle at. You left that on the living room floor after the meltdown that was last night. 

He gets to your bookmarked page easily. “Go to the seasonal fair.” 

“That’s from a long time ago. I thought I would have enough time to see it come next summer.” 

“Go grocery shopping.” 

“You’ve clearly already done that for me this morning. I didn’t have fresh ingredients in my fridge last time I checked.” 

Johnny sighs. “Dine and ditch.” 

“I barely have the energy to do anything anymore, never mind running.” 

Johnny runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “Y/N, we’re not doing nothing.” 

“I don’t want to do anything.” 

“The Y/N I know wouldn’t want to spend their last days like this.” 

Hidden fury bubbles up. “I’m not the same person I was fucking seven years ago. Get over it. You think I want to feel like this?”

“Then stop making excuses. You were able to hit and curse me yesterday. You can muster enough energy to at least take a walk.” 

Somehow, fifteen minutes later, you’re out on the concrete sidewalk, side by side with the behemoth that was Johnny. He pulled out of scarves, gloves, and coats you had stuffed away in the closet last summer, knowing you weren’t going to be wearing them ever again. 

Apparently, you were wrong as Johnny deemed your ever-changing body temperatures as a concern and took it upon himself to tug as much as he could onto your figure. 

“I might overheat before I go this weekend.” You had complained. Johnny only took off one extra scarf off your neck at this.

You’re hobbling in your thick padded jacket, arms flaring out beside you as Johnny walks comfortably, the cold autumn air leaving white puffs of air from his smiling pretty lips. 

When being outside in the late morning, there weren't as many people you thought would be wandering out. After calling it quits two blocks from your complex, the two of you turn around. You deny Johnny’s offer of a piggyback ride. 

You’re still not sure whether his overbearing need to help you made you feel more horrible about everything or whether it made you feel good you finally had someone even know you needed help. 

Johnny undoes all his hard work on layering you off once you step back into the apartment. 

Maybe taking that walk did help, because you leave Johnny to his devices and pick up a fountain pen and a stack of letter paper. You write to a bunch of people you’re leaving behind, whether they remember and care for you or not. 

Johnny walks in with water and a small sandwich, looking down at what you’re doing. And he silently sets up shop beside you, helping you plant addresses and stamps to the letters you’re slaving on. 

Your hand cramps up and you wince at that pain, to which Johnny calmly massages out without a single word. You suppose you should be scared how much he remembers your body and your needs but you’re not. 

After dinner, which you participate little in, you take pills for your blood pressure and nap. Johnny finds the tattered pieces of the last page of your bucket list and tapes them back together for you to find on the coffee table when you wake at midnight. 

He’s left conked out on the other corner of the loveseat you’re curled on, a newfound blanket laid on your body. 

Your heart stutters at the old sight of Johnny resting. You used to imagine seven years ago, blindly dreaming of coming home to him after work and finding him knocked out from waiting for you on the couch. 

You fall back asleep watching his unmarred expression, no crinkles of distress from your stubbornness on his forehead or any tightening to his jaw at your plain-spoken statements of truth. 

The next thing you two do for an entire day is pack for donating things. Johnny does all the heavy lifting while you mostly sit and put stacks of books, knick-knacks, posters, clothes, paintings, and other things into boxes. By evening, you’re dead tired and all the things you were giving away were by the front door. 

The following day, Johnny manages to convince you to attempt one thing on your relationship bullet list before going. And you decide on calling Jisung. You bail out before you can press the button to ring his line, an anxiety attack calling your name before you can do it. The fear of actually saying goodbye to your brother was imminent. 

Johnny was there for you the entire way. You express your selfishness of not letting your one last family connection know your condition, of not letting Jisung say goodbye to you. But Johnny takes your burden without a single complaint, planting a kiss on your forehead instead. 

You drown yourself in his scent that afternoon, with no power to cross off anything on the list that day or the next. He indulges in letting you rent movies and rewatch the oldies you two used to religiously binge together. Johnny doesn’t complain when you rehearse lines you know by heart, not willing to scold you to be quiet during a movie like he used to. He just takes it as an excuse to hear you talk. 

As the weekend approaches, Johnny gets more visibly nervous. His hands shake and his eyes flutter to your figure across the room, almost afraid that you’ll drop then and there. 

He finally gives in and begs you to go to the hospital, on his knees holding your hands in your lap. You explain to Johnny the inevitability of everything and he refuses to listen long enough to understand, even with the hours of research and calls he makes while you’re asleep.

You idly think he’s being a bit selfish in wanting you to go to the hospital but you don’t voice that aloud, the beginning signs of Johnny’s grieving starting before your eyes. 

You honestly wish you didn’t call him at all whenever Johnny comes to you, tears building on his lash line before you can do anything. It makes you feel worse about yourself. 

But then again, you wouldn’t have written all those letters out. And you wouldn’t have taken that walk and eaten the several times Johnny had placed food before you. You wouldn’t have watched the Notebook again, donated most of the unused belongings, or seen the ducks at the nearby park fly off for migration for the final time— you wouldn’t have done anything except rot away at home alone. 

So you take Johnny as he is. The anger sets in and you let him vent his heart out as you lay on the couch, listening with half-lidded eyes. He’ll suddenly remember you’re the one that’s leaving this world, not the other way around. 

And then Johnny would hug you, the bone-crushing one you were used to back in college replaced with a delicate one made for easily broken glass. You hit him weakly for not putting his real love into it and he gives it his all at your permission, that tight hold making you feel safe. 

Finally, when you know for yourself it’s time, you call Jisung. Johnny is prepared to comfort you again when you’re terrified of pressing the call button but the panic doesn’t come. 

You speak to Jisung like it’s a normal occurrence. Jisung doesn’t notice a single thing off about you besides the fact that you’re genuinely calling him. You laugh like it’s not one of your last times laughing at your brother’s stupid jokes. Jisung speaks of visiting you soon and you don’t react in an ill-mannered way, only a sad smile crossing your dry lips and an empty promise to accept him gladly into your life again leaving your mouth. 

Johnny expects you to cry after you hang up but you don’t. Instead, you turn on your video camera, asking Johnny to leave your bedroom politely. He does so and you film yourself for hours on end, saying bits and bobs, everything and anything under the sun. 

You don’t exactly direct them to anyone in particular. It’s just to whoever cares to see them after you’re gone. 

You do cry when you look down at your fingertips though, ready to stop the shaky recording you had begun. You stop the filming and cry weakly into your hands that have become a mottled blue-purple. 

Johnny comes in and curls to your side, large palm cradling your wet face. He’s seen you fall apart so many times but nothing like this. 

It rips him to pieces. 

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” A whisper that is so trembling, it sounds like you’re wasting so much of your heart’s strength into the words. 

“Because I love you. And…” Johnny chokes up, watching as your face twists in agony. “I just love you. I loved you and I will love you. I don’t want you to be alone and... I don’t want you to go.” 

You crack. “I don’t want to go either.” 

Your eyes close, praying to whatever being above to let you open your eyes tomorrow. 

“Call Jisung. Please… please, want to hear him again.” You cry out with stuttered breaths, hazy eyes meeting Johnny’s with difficulty. 

Johnny grabs your phone and presses the call button. But he doesn’t pick up this time. You can only sniffle as Johnny keeps trying and trying. You hear him begin to panic, to freeze and start begging for your brother to answer. 

But you whisper reassurances, then weep. Gasping at air, you squeeze your eyes tight as Johnny sobs into your chest. 

He feels your irregular heartbeat and wants it to steady. Anguish seeps in like a tsunami as you fade. Johnny continues tugging at your still hands, begging them to move on their own accord. But you leave your father with a story of your tragic tale, stored into his unconscious until he joins your fate. You leave Jisung with your hopeful phone call, full of unfinished promises and regret. 

You leave Johnny in your empty apartment, now a shell to reminisce you. With your lovely but weak smile, your hoarse words he loved hearing leave your lips, and the fading warmth of your body.

The world is left behind in the potential of what could have been. 

And Johnny wishes he had had the guts to love you the way he had always wanted to.

[levisblackbabe]

Headcanons of Aot boys with a black gf

Characters: Eren Jeager , Armin Arlert, Levi Ackerman, Connie Springer and Jean Kirstein x fem black reader (separate)

Genre: Mostly fluff, slight angst, deffo crack, (everyone is +18)

Warnings: Language, a bit toxic, slightly suggestive

Wc: 1500+ (Each character is about 300-400 words)

Eren Jeager (The lowkey Toxic one)

· Lowkey scared of y/n because she reminds him of Levi when she is angry, and he knows she will beat his ass if necessary

· Started out as friends but he has always liked y/n

· He initially asked you out as a dare and you only found out after 6 weeks where you broke up 😐

· This legit started the cycle of breaking and getting back together (he never cheated though just a lil bit toxic)

· He is very possessive and controlling which also lead to your break ups

· Even though you have your ups and down he is mostly a good boyfriend

· He plays basketball so every time he is practising on his own, he asks you to be there for rebounds (in reality he just wants you near him baso 24/7)

· Loves your smell so he steals those items might be your lotion, hair products or perfume

· Loves your natural hair and just touches it without permission after a couple times you just gave up telling him off

· He was confused on why you changed your hair so often

· When you guys first started dating you came with box braids rather then your usual bun and he deadass thought you were somebody else 💀he was so confused on why this stranger was touching him up (this mf loyal cuz he was ready to punch you)

· He was soooo scared of meeting your parents (had to call Armin to ask for advice)

· Your family at first didn’t like him cuz of the constant breaking up but they grew to tolerate him (however your older brother doesn’t)

· Loves taking pictures of you during facetime, golden hour or whenever and saves them in a folder (simp)

· Loves your cooking soo much that he goes collect tubber ware of food worth a week and stocks up his fridge

· He loves when you speak to him in another language so he pisses you off so you can cuss him out in your native tongue

· He barely calls your name its either babe or some cringey name like bubbs or something (however if you hear your full name leave his month rip)

Armin Artlet (The simp)

· SHY BAE that’s it

· He was your English tutor and has always had a crush on you

· He wanted to ask you out on a date, but he shy and thought you won’t like white boys

· You asked him instead cuz you fell for his ocean blue eyes (I mean who wouldn’t)

· In the beginning you had to take the initiative a lot cuz he wanted to respect your boundaries but after a while he grew comfortable and took the lead

· He LOVES your natural hair and knows your wash day schedule, so he always offers to help anyway possible

· He was absolutely scared of meeting your family cuz once again he white 😐 however everyone loved him

· He most definitely invited to the family reunion

· Your aunts adore him and they always talking about you as a baby to him

· He always doing late night ft calls with you, and he WON’T hang up cuz he wants to see your face when you wake up

· Armin is a giver, so he always offers to buy thigs for your and just buy gifts at least once a week

· He also loves cooking for and with you (once you had a cooking competition and technically, he is a better cook, but he let you win)

· He likes sending random pictures of things you like and remind him of you

· He happily takes pictures of you (photographer Armin)

· You guys have a pet turtle called Mickey 🐢

· His nicknames for you are beautiful, pretty and stuff like that

· Just overall fluff

Levi Ackerman (the co-worker)

· You guys have been co-workers for 2 years actually

· You thought he hated you but in reality, he does he just acts stingy towards cuz he is Levi 😐 (some serious enemies to lovers vibe)

· He didn’t confess and never would have but due to a drunken Hange letting it slip during a hang out with your co-workers you found out

· He deadass ignored you for a week like if he saw you, he would turn into Houdini and disappear

· However, you once caught him distracted and forced him to talk to you

· Reluctantly so he spoke the truth and asked you out (thought he seemed angry about it)

· Now you guys have happily been dating

· Everyone in your office finds you lucky cuz Levi is the finest man in the office heck the world (if he was real, I would leave my bf 😭)

· He actually has a 5-year-old daughter (DILF! Levi) and told you why he never said anything about his feeling was because you know single dad and shiz

· After 6 weeks you met his babygirl and she is the cutest she loves you considering she never had much of a mother figure in her life

· His daughter is mixed so he knows how to deal with natural hair thanks to YouTube, so he sometimes helps with yours (such a good dad)

· But now that you are here you offer to do any protective styles and give him tips

· Levi isn’t very open, but he expresses his love to you with physical touch, acts of service or gifts

· However, he speaks very softly to his daughter he seems different

· Due to his love language being touch he loves petting your hair (only when you have protective styles) and putting his head on it ( he is tall in my head okay)

· He loves having you in close proximity to you and just somehow touching you

· Him and your dad really hit it off because they both have daughters

· Your aunts are lowkey infatuated with him

· Loves making breakfast for you but due to your busy schedule he just buys your coffee in the morning

· He will never tell you, but he has trouble falling asleep but when you sleepover he actually has a full nights rest (he has silk sheets just for you)

· He might seem closed off, but you know he loves you due to the little things

Connie Springer (the bestfriend)

a/n I just want to say Connie will be of Hispanic heritage for the sake of this headcanon also because all the fanfics I read about him he is portrayed as Hispanic I just write him like this however this isn’t to offend anyone or play onto stereotypes.

· You guys have been besties since freshman year high school

· You hooked up freshman year of college and been dating ever since

· Nothing really changed in your dynamic other than the fact yall kiss and do the deed

· Like you legit call each other insults though Connie likes calling slime and bubbs

· You jokingly calling each other baby mama and baby daddy (manifesting kids but whatever)

· Speaking of kids, you have plushies that you call kids and rotate them around (they are from your arcade date)

· Loves being on call with you when he is playing because it helps calm him down and not break his tv (anger issues much)

· HYPEMAN if you are looking fine asf he will hype you up so much and offer to take pictures for the gram

· You have a joint TikTok account where you reaching 10k and just do dumb couple stuff its cringey but cute (Same goes for your joint spam account where you guys just do silly things together)

· He always asks to do your hair which you repetitively deny keeping in mind last time you let him he nearly ripped off half your scalp

· Late nights drives happen a lot so you can vent and have a heart to heart under the stars, you guys also just vibe to the music and might spend hours in silence looking at the city lights and dancing

· If you fall asleep on him or in the drive back he becomes really cute and soft and just says you are beautiful and that he loves you in Spanish (ugh my heart)

· He only speaks Spanish when he wants to be cute and knows you won’t understand

· Your family have always liked him so when you guys started dating everyone was like ‘FINALLY’ (same with his family)

· Some type of kid’s movie marathon once a month cuz being a child is great

· Its just overall jokes

Jean Kirstein (Mr Doesn’t Give Up)

· Kept asking you out for a year until you gave in, he was so excited he kissed you straightaway

· He was so nervous in your first date, but he was a gentleman opening doors etc (whoever said chivalry was dead 🤨)

· Nearly said I love you on the first date considering he has liked you for a year, but he held it in

· However, he did get a kiss goodnight on the cheek (he was grinning like a fool)

· Loves the fact that you change your hair so much and so often that he happily gives recommendations and offers to help you out

· He is the overprotective type of boyfriend so he was reluctant on you meeting his friends especially Eren, but you reassured him that you wouldn’t be swayed (still icky about you hanging with Eren though)

· He adores playing pc games with you and you have a little family in Sims4 which is cute

· He now has a skincare routine because you introduced him to it (he said he didn’t need one cuz he has a ‘handsome face’ but he secretly started one lol

· He also steals your body lotion and legit smells like you (smh)

· His wrist always has a silk crunchie in case you need it, and, in his car, he has a bag with essentials for you such as pads, edge control, etc

· He calls you cute pet names but also the occasional insults as a joke

· He is lowkey rich, so he happily spoils you to fancy dinners and more

· He also likes going back to the basics so picnic dates in the spring and summer are common he says he cooks them but in reality, it’s his mum

· Your mum absolutely adores him cuz he is a ‘charmer’

· He likes facetiming you when he is working out so he can show up, but you just ignore him and continue doing what you are doing

· Like Eren he has a folder filled of mugs of you

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