#real sad boy hours for Knuckles

[btm-txt]

FNAF flavored glass

Commission for @charleecat-bat from a fnaf inspired AU that is filled to the brim with glass eating angst for the robo boys and Knuckles, but it's soooo much fun though! I'm a sucker for mobian robot/ mecha designs and the guardians being involved make it that much more fun to experiment with.

[kkami-writes]

hybrid hearts ━ chapter five. wc. 1.2k cw. slightly spicy chapter!

Despite the late hour you still hadn’t felt tired, sleep alluding you even after the rather hectic day. So you stand in the kitchen, making a hot cup of sleepy time tea that you hope will help you get some rest. The lights are dimmed, not wanting to fully turn them on and wake anyone up. The moonlight shines brightly in the window and it’s more than enough for you to be able to see.

You almost drop your cup when Hyunjin suddenly comes up from behind you. He loosely wraps his arms around your middle, letting his taller body hang over yours.

“Can’t sleep either?” You hum softly, continuing to set the water to boil but the boy only lets out a nonchalant grunt, his shoulders shrugging. It’s not hard to tell that something is bothering him with the way his grip around you gets a little tighter.

“You let him stay huh?” He mumbles against you, and you let out a small sigh. You shuffle in his embrace so you can face him and Hyunjin doesn’t let go for a second, his face still buried in your neck.

“I’m sorry. It just didn’t seem right to send him out when he’s at pretty high risk of an infection and the medicine would make him drowsy. I’m sure he’ll just leave in the morning,”

Hyunjin lets out his own sigh against your neck and the hot air of his breath makes you shiver.

“But… you want him to stay, don’t you?”

The silence that follows lingers for a second before you reply. “It’s the same with you. I just. I have this big empty house and I have plenty of money, I can provide. I hate that there are people, hybrids who are suffering when all they need is someone kind,”

Hyunjin knows you’re right and he hates it. Hates how selfish he feels, he just wants you all to himself. His sweet human.

“Why?”

“Why what?” There’s a tone of confusion in your voice.

“Why did you throw yourself like that in front of Bangchan? You didn’t know he wasn’t a real wolf, what if you got hurt?”

“Hyun…” His gaze is on the floor, unable to look at you and your hands come up to cup his cheeks in order to make him look at you. There’s a sad, almost pained expression written all over his face.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He doesn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue with a baited breath. “I wanted to protect you. Ok, so maybe I didn’t really think anything through but all I know is that the moment I saw the wolf chasing you I panicked and threw myself over you. In that moment I was so, so scared of losing you,” You murmur in a soft, sweet voice, running your knuckles over his cheek. Hyunjin leans further into your touch.

“But…did you protect me because you think I can’t handle myself? Because I’m just a ferret?” His voice is quiet but it cracks slightly, his emotions thick in his throat.

“Of course not. That doesn’t matter to me. It’s because you are you that I want to be able to protect you. I just want to protect the people I care about,”

“But…If I was a wolf like Chan would you trust me more? Trust me to be able to protect you? I marked this territory because I wanted to be able to protect you! And in the end it was you who had to protect me!” Despite his head in your hands he looks back down, feeling so ashamed and embarrassed, angry tears stinging at his eyes. “I just…I just want to be able to protect the person I love,”

You just smile softly at him. “Oh, my precious Hyune. I love you too,”

“No,” Hyunjin shakes his head adamantly, finally lifting his head to look at you, clear determination in his irises. “I’m in love with you,”

You let out a small giggle at that, and it makes his lips turn down into a slight frown.

“Silly boy. That’s what I just said, no?”

“Wait. What?”

“Hyunjin. I love you” His breath catches as he glances down at you, a shimmer of hope swimming in his eyes.

“You- You love me?” He asks in pure disbelief as he searches your face for anything that could possibly give you away. But he finds nothing. There’s no way right? It’s not possible that the most important person to him could ever love him back in his mind. Not when he was a hybrid and you, a human. You can see the boy is struggling to accept your confession so instead, you pull him down to press your lips softly to his. This breaks the trance he’s in before he’s happily kissing you back, his own hands coming around to wrap around your waist.

It feels like an absolute dream to be kissing you, someone he thought he’d never have a chance with, someone he has fallen so deeply for. He tilts his head just slightly, eagerly deepening the embrace. Hyunjin pulls back for a second, lifting you up and onto the counter so he can slot himself between your legs. Then he continues to devour your lips, unable to get enough of you now that he’s had you. Your come to wrap around his shoulders, pulling him even closer to your body.

His tongue swipes across your lower lip and you part your lips for him to slip the wet muscle into your mouth. Hyunjin tastes every inch of you that he can, desperate for more and the way you let out a pretty sigh against his lips drives him even more insane. Eventually he has to pull away, the need for air winning but that doesn’t stop him from pressing his lips to your neck, kissing over your pulse point and trailing them down to your collarbone as you pant, slightly dizzy from the intoxicating kiss.

With the way he’s fully pressed against you as he all but marks up your neck possessively, you can feel his hardening length against your thighs. It makes your own body heat up even more, arousal starting to pool in your stomach.

“Hyun-“ You gasp out but he doesn’t stop his assault against your neck, feeling his teeth nipping at your skin. Your fingers sink into his hair, tugging at it softly which effectively gains his attention. He’s looking up at you with those pretty eyes. “Bedroom, Hyun,” You mutter with a flushed face and Hyunjin all but gives you a goofy grin. He picks you up with ease, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist and wastes no more time in getting you to the bedroom.

He drops you down lightly onto the bedsheets before climbing up next to you, his hands coming to roam across your body, tugging your shirt up and pressing his plush lips to your stomach. The action sets your whole body ablaze as you surrender to Hyunjin’s soft touches and heated kisses. He adores how pliant you are for him already, having barely even done much to you.

Hyunjin takes his time with you, worshiping your body like you deserve, trying to memorize every curve and beauty marks along your body. By the time he’s finished with you, your legs feel like jelly and you’re almost worried you wont be able to walk tomorrow. However, it has him letting out a soft rumble in his chest, satisfied with making his mate feel good as he beams with pride.

Hyunjin presses kisses across your face as you begin to drift off, thoroughly exhausted and he settles in next to you, his precious mate.

[morganbritton132]

PLEASE ELABORATE ON THE BRACELET WITH EDDIES NUMBER ON IT

Was there a time Steve sleepwalked and someone did call Eddie? Was there another time it came in handy when Steve lost Eddie (or Eddie lost Steve) or something other?? Please I need more that is so cute

Just a warning, I made this sad for no reason.

Once when Steve went on tour with Eddie, he wandered off in a post-ictal fog and ended up lost in the city. It took them a few hours to find each other because Steve didn’t know where he was nor did he have any money on him. After that, he would write the phone number of Eddie’s manager on his arm since he was the only guy on tour with a cell phone.

Pat, Eddie’s manager, wasn’t thrilled with this arrangement because he didn’t particularly like Steve, but after Steve channeled the coldest version of his mother and reminded Pat that only one of them was replaceable – “And managers are a dime of dozen” – he begrudgingly agreed.

He was never called.

Steve actually got the idea for the bracelet from one of his second graders.

After a pretty bad allergic reaction, one of his students came back to school with a little silver bracelet on her wrist. It had her mother’s phone number on it and the words ‘Peanut Allergy.’ She smiled up at Steve when she showed him and said, “My mama says this will keep me safe!”

He smiles too, “I bet it will.”

The bracelet is a surprise that Steve never gets to tell Eddie about. The day it comes in the mail, Eddie is over at Gareth’s for a D&D campaign so Steve never even gets the chance to tell him. He goes to bed before Eddie gets home and wakes up in the Emergency Room.

He’s cold and his feet hurt, and there are cuts on his hands and medical tape on his face, and for a second, he thinks he’s in the backseat of a blue Camaro with the world’s most reckless driver. He tries to sit up and it sets up an alarm and then there’s a hand in his, squeezing it.

It takes Steve a second to recognize the rings, to follow the rings up an arm, up to big eyes and messy curls, and Steve breaths out the only thing he can think, “Wow.”

“Wowza, big boy,” Eddie grins back at him, and Steve loves him. “How are you feeling?”

“Did something happen?”

“Yeah, uh. Sleepwalking again,” Eddie hums and then he smiles again. He taps a ring on his free hand against the metal bracelet on Steve’s wrist, “This is fucking brilliant, by the way. Did you think of it?”

Steve’s jaw kinda hurts like he’s been clenching it, but he smiles anyways, “Yeah.”

“You’re a genius, babe. They called me immediately,” He says, kissing his knuckles. Steve frowns, seeing a bruise there. Eddie notices and his grin takes on a chaotic edge, “You punched a security guard.”

“What?”

“For real, babe,” Eddie laughs at the panicked look on his face. “I don’t know what they did to trigger you, but you fuckin’ decked one of ‘em.”

“Oh my god, I’m going to jail.”

“Nah, it’s all good. I took care of it,” Eddie says and then to the skeptical look on Steve’s face, he rolls his eyes. “Okay, fine. The guy is a fan and I gave him tickets not to press charges. Also, he feels pretty bad about spooking you since you clearly weren’t in your right mind.”

“Was in my left mind then?” Steve half-jokes, half-yawns. “Who brought me in?”

“You did.” Eddie’s smile dims in a way that’s a little sad but full of love. “You came here on your own actually – without shoes. We’re gonna have to teach your left mind about shoes – and, uh. Based on what I’ve heard, you were looking for a patient.”

“A patient? What patient?”

“They, uh. They said you were looking for Max.”

[dabisair]

toska

Dabi x gn!reader

Warnings: soft Dabi, reader is a bit rude to Dabi in the beginning, discussions of love and how it's supposed to feel (both explanations are negative), indecisive reader, unambitious reader, talk of body hatred, and oh my god if you feel the way this reader feels I am so so so SO sorry and I hope that one day you and I can heal ; _ ; (I tried to keep Reader's body type unspecified)

toska - (roughly) a dul ache of the soul, a sick pining, a spiritual anguish; also, "Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness".

Unbeta'd I ride at dawn--- this started somewhere and then ended somewhere else entirely and I'm sorry.

A flame-bitten finger traces along imperfect skin - skin that shivers beneath the touch, goosebumps pebbling in the wake.

The sensation worsens when that burning hand plucks petals from a nearby flower, all blues and purples with a splash of white, and traps the supple material between a hot palm and a cool arm.

Blue eyes flicker with interest, a flash of white heat singing the petals and the near invisible hairs on your forearm. A stream of smoke rises up from beneath his palm, long fingers wrapping around your arm when you try to jerk the appendage away on reflex.

Dabi thinks your scowl is funny - he must, given that he chuckles when you narrow your eyes at him. You don’t waste your time trying to pull your arm out of his grasp. You’ve come to know that it is better for you to accept whatever new burn you’re going to have when he finally decides to let you go than fight with him and have him tighten his grasp.

“Just because you have dead pain receptors doesn't mean I do.”

The small smile on his face is whisked away by a neutral line, his grip on your arm loosening enough for you to yank it back to your person. All that meets your gaze when you inspect your skin is a red blotch, earning Dabi a sigh. You brace your hand against the stone beneath where you sit, staring listlessly toward the city below. He’d insisted that you come up to this roof with him nearly an hour ago.

He sets his hand on your thigh, ripped up flower petals fluttering around as he repeats the action, this time with the petals, and the fabric as a barrier between the brutal flash of his quirk and your flesh. You poke gently at the skin between his knuckles, tentatively touching the staples. Your fingers twitch away from the metal, scorching hot just from the small puffs of flame he let out from his palms.

“What does it feel like?”

“Like running through the snow and jumping in a hot tub.”

Dabi snorts, shaking his head while he rubs his hand slowly up and down your thigh, “right.”

“So hot that it feels cold, like leaving my hand in cold water and then putting it in a bowl of hot water. It stings and makes me think my skin is melting off my bones, at the same time as it feels like my skin is freezing and becoming brittle.”

He nods his head, his hand lifting from your thigh to touch your chest, “that’s not what I’m askin’. What does it feel like?”

“What does what feel like, fire boy?”

“Being in love.”

You peer at him closely, trying to gauge why he’s asking - or, furthermore, why he thinks that you’re in love. You’ve always wondered if you say ‘I love you’ to people because you mean it, or because they said it to you first.

But, at the same time, you can’t be sure that you don’t feel love. You don’t know what it really feels like - at least, not in the way that it's been shown in television or movies or described in books and poems.

“It feels empty.”

Dabi’s stare is weighted, resting heavily on your body.

“It feels like a dull ache, like there’s a hole in my chest that nothing will fill. It feels like losing someone important, wishing you could have them back but knowing that it’s not possible. There’s an anguish there, so deep that I can’t do anything about it, so yeah. It feels empty. It doesn’t feel real. It’s painful.”

Part of you is not surprised when Dabi pulls his hand away from you, but it dawns on you, as your heart sinks into your stomach, that he must have been asking because he thought you were in love with him.

“... what does it feel like to you?”

“Like I wanna’ hurt you. I don’t understand it, can’t comprehend it, and I want to hurt you. It’s an itch I can’t get rid of, a disgusting insect in the back of my head gnawing away at my thoughts and I despise it, and I want it to stop,” his hand returns to your thigh, and he scoots closer, one leg dangling over the edge you’re both sitting on, “can I hurt you?”

“No.”

His huff is so incredulous it causes a puff of laughter to escape you.

“That was so fuckin’ instantaneous.”

“I don’t enjoy pain.”

“What if I let you hurt me too?”

“But you can’t really feel pain anymore, D, and that means that I could potentially really hurt you and neither of us would be aware.”

“But it would be fair. I get to hurt you because I loathe how you make me feel, and you get to fill your emptiness with pain.”

“I don’t follow your logic, but I appreciate that you’re trying.”

“Unless you wanna’ fill your emptiness with somethin’ less painful?” he mutters, leaning toward you.

You go rigid, shoulders bunching up. His lips - uneven and unnatural - scrape along your neck, sending a violent shiver down your spine as your body jumps beneath the affection. He sighs through his nose, the rush of warm air eliciting a similar reaction.

“Do you like that?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?” he scoffs, moving closer despite his indignation. You have half a mind to slap his hand off your thigh.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to react,” you turn your head to the side when Dabi decides to bury his face in your neck, tongue and teeth moving over your skin. It makes you uncomfortable. It makes you anxious. You can’t be sure the butterflies are actually a good thing as they flutter their wings throughout your stomach and chest.

It feels foreign and unnatural and you’re not sure why he insists on kissing your neck the way he is.

At the same time, you don’t do anything to stop him. Part of you hopes you can just breathe through it. Maybe…

Your anxiety grows when his strong fingers dig into your thigh, pulling at your flesh.

It takes a moment for you to work up the courage to discourage Dabi from continuing, his curious mouth moving up your neck toward your cheek. He leans back, expression unreadable save for the irritated twitch in his lip.

“You know I’m impatient,” his voice is low. Dejected. His frustration digs bruises into your thigh, and despite the pain, and the fact that you told him you don’t enjoy pain, you let him. It is better than reminding him that he’s a villain and if he’s going to be so impatient, then he should just take what he wants from you.

Dabi has always seemed to want you to be willing, rather than despondent.

“Nothing to say to that?”

You shrug, your leg jerking under his hand when he digs his fingers into it again. Words escape you until Dabi moves his hand off your leg and sighs heavily.

“This is never gonna’ go anywhere, is it?”

“No.”

“And I thought I was the villain.”

“In label only, D. You also deserve someone who knows what they want - both in life and a relationship. I can’t give you either of those things,” you shrug, the lights of the city blurring together, “unlike you, I have no ambitions. I have no purpose. I simply exist. I don’t know what I want, and haven’t known for years.”

He fishes his cigarettes out of the pocket of your sweatshirt and lights one up with a blue flicker, his movements harsh.

“So you used to know.”

“Yeah. I used to think I wanted a relationship. I used to be pretty enough to be in one.”

Dabi grumbles something under his breath, glaring at you. You tilt your head to the side, sighing through your nose, “you’re prettier than me, D.”

“Yeah? Tell me how that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t,” you mutter, surprised that he’s stayed as close to you as he has. He’s been surprisingly patient with you, “but I’ve stopped trying to make sense of it, y’know? It’s all fine and dandy until I remember I’m part of the equation. Everything about me is ugly, especially my body. I wouldn’t like it even if I was thinner - or bigger. It’s me, so it’s ugly.”

“But you think other people who share your attributes are beautiful, doll,” Dabi leans his forehead against your shoulder, “why can’t you think that about yourself?”

You suck in your cheeks, looking at him sheepishly when he raises his head.

“... you were gonna’ say that phrase, weren’t you?”

“Uh huh.”

“And you didn’t because…?”

“Because I think I’ve said it enough for one night, and you’re probably sick of hearing it. So. Um. Reasons.”

“Mm-hm. Reasons?”

“Yeah. The best. Logical. Make perfect sense reasons - definitely not illogical, or contradictory reasons!”

And to your surprise, Dabi chuckles, shaking his head as he inclines it to your shoulder again. Maybe it is nice for him to hear you try to be funny about something that is objectively not funny - or maybe he appreciates that you are already aware that your reasoning is illogical.

“Next time we should talk about something else.”

“But what if talking to me about how much you hate yourself makes y’feel better?” he counters softly, lifting his head from your shoulder to toss his cigarette away. You glance at his lips only to quickly look away when you realize he caught you.

“Isn’t that too much weight for you?” you ask just as softly. Thankfully, he knows what you mean: by comparison, your body is fine. Your body is normal.

His no longer is.

“But I understand - don’t argue with me.”

“Okay.”

“Saw you lookin’.”

You hum.

“So do it.”

You glance at him again, brows narrowing back, and your stare drifts to his lips, then back up to his eyes. He nods his head a little in encouragement.

All you can muster is to kiss him on the corner of his mouth. You let it linger, let yourself feel it, and then you pull away. Dabi brings your head to his collar, though, making you lean against him

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You laugh airily, closing your eyes.

“It wasn’t.”

[itsyagurlchip]

@real-hot-grl-shi asked: TEE HEE YK ME maybe monoma x black reader when reader is trying to take her braids out and monoma walks in on her and tries to help?? :)))) (I don't have braids in rn but still, I miss my braids 😞) HAPPY JUNETEENTH!!!!!! BLMMMM 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Gone Ahead, Letcho Hair Down ☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

ᯓᡣ𐭩warnings: cussing(!) reader has 4c hair(!) fluff(!)

ᯓᡣ𐭩this is wayyy past j19 💀💀 ermmm, i love you bee <3/p hope you enjoy this! (don't mind if monoma seems ooc- i havent watched s6 or 7 of mha yet)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Monoma loves the way your hair curls around his fingers...

"Bae?" You called, but left with silence. You were sitting down doing your hair, with your elbow paused midair as you looked towards the door. Neito wanted to spend time with you, but it was your wash day. So you simply invited him over. A few minutes ago, he said he wanted to make snacks for the both of you. You told him not to worry about it, gathering your products and supplies as he went to the bathroom instead.

Sitting on your bed, you brushed away the coils of hair that had fallen out when you started unbraiding. You had put your hair in 4 barrel braids, with the tips of your hair into a low ponytail.

"Baby? Can you come over? I need help with the back, I can't see it." You said stretching a bit, your back was already hurting. Despite that, you knew damn well you could do this by yourself.

But you wanted your lover to experience this with you.

The gradual time it takes to gently unfold each wrap, to wince when a rubber band snaps at your knuckles, to feel the relief after hours of work and the calming repeating sensation of unbraiding something. You wanted him to feel what made your hair so special to you.

Hearing him walk out, you turned to look at him. Neito was wiping his hands with a small towel. He was wearing a plain white button up, with navy blue jeans to pair it with.

"I'm coming, I'm coming. Don't be impatient, I know I'm fine as hell, but you could live a few minutes without me." Monoma chuckled, throwing the napkin he had away in the tin.

You sighed heavily, rolling your eyes, while widening the trash bag full of fake hair. "Come and getcho ass here boy, this hair ain't gonna do itself." You scoffed, "and for the record, I can go days without yo' pompous ass." You said, smirking a little at his dramatic offense.

You rolled your eyes again when he clutched his pearls, gawking at your audacity to do as such.

"Says the one who can't go one day without sending me edits."

"Says the one who wants me to make edits about you."

"Touche."

And so he sat down next to you. But he was so far that he wouldn't be able to reach your head. You raised your eyebrow as you looked behind you to see him with his legs crossed.

"Um.. So, you gonna help me? Orrr..." You perked your lips, still waiting for a response.

He said nothing, but he reached forward and turned your head back around. Suddenly, Monoma pulled your shoulders down, bringing you to his lap.

"Ay-"

"Shhhh" He said, silencing whatever flirty comment you were about to say. You huffed and adjusted yourself against his knees, feeling your stomach press against Monoma's legs. He grabbed some oil, applying it to your roots, and began unbraiding.

Slowly, with each sigh getting deeper, your eyelids hung over your eyes, bringing you a sense of peace and serenity.

After two hours, which is criminal because it only felt like 30 minutes, Monoma finished your head right before the sun went down. With a brush and his fingers, he began to massage your head and untangle those knots that were left over.

You couldn't hold on any longer, and so your conscious let go. You were asleep.

I'm literally so sad that I got the motivation to write this right after you left. omg :((

૮₍˶• .•⑅₎ა tags: @kittykittyanon @bonefanatic @oleander-nin @towomatos @thealphagirl

૮₍˶• .•⑅₎ა@ziipzeepzop-eez @wheezdostuff @spongejuice @cyb3r-st4r @matteo-hamato

@clown-froggi

if you would like to be added, check my blog. if you would like to be added, check my blog. SEE? I SAID IT TWICE!!

[chrisbitchtree]

When Steve was fifteen, his father sat him down and told him how he would know when he’d found the one.

He’d want to take care of them. Make them laugh, make them smile, make them feel loved. He’d want to do anything he could to protect them, shield them from the evils of the world. He wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off of them, and he’d never want for them to be apart.

Steve had rolled his eyes, as per usual taking anything his father had to say about love with a grain of salt.

When he’d started dating Nancy, he finally understood that maybe his father was just a little bit right. He wanted to take care of her, and his heart felt full when his dumb jokes were the source of her laughter.

But for all the love that Steve had to give, it turned out that Nancy didn’t want it. She might have been his one, but he wasn’t hers, and it stung.

Eventually though, he was able to see that it was for the better. Someday he would someone who would turn his world upside down, and he’d know it was right that time.

***

It had been a slow slide towards friendship with Billy. When the blonde had first arrived in Hawkins, all fists and fury and howling rage, Steve had never imagined that someday, he’d be laying back on his bed with the other boy, getting high and making Billy laugh with dumb impersonations of Muppets.

His head was thrown back, and he was wiping tears of laughter from his eyes as he listened to Steve as Miss Piggy tell Kermit that she loved him.

He took a puff off the joint that Billy handed to him, and it sent him into a coughing fit. Billy started laughing harder, slapping his hand on Steve’s knee.

It made Steve feel good to hear him laugh, especially with the fresh black eye he was sporting, courtesy of Neil Hargrove.

He’d shown up at Steve’s with a baggie of weed, knuckles bloody and eyes weary, but as per usual, he refused to discuss the specifics of what happened, mumbling that he’d deserved it for the dirty plate he’d left in the sink.

He’d plopped himself on Steve’s bed and told him to pop a movie in the VCR. Before long, Billy was lost in the antics of the characters on screen, but Steve was seething.

He had to fight the urge to drive over to Cherry Lane and get his fist real familiar with Neil Hargrove’s face.

He wished he could ensure that Billy never felt scared or hurt or unloved ever again. He wanted to shield him from pain and sadness and the evils outside the little world they’d created, just the two of them, in the four walls of his bedroom. He wanted to hear him laugh and smile, and he wanted to be the source of that happiness, forever and always.

He looked over at Billy, his red lips pressed around the joint as he took a hit. His freckles stood out on his shoulders and cheeks, the way they did during the summer, after long hours spent working at the pool. The bright afternoon sun steaming through the window caught on Billy’s golden curls, and Steve found he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Oh.

[propertyofrjl]

i saw your requests were open! so what about an established relationship with remus and going to him after finishing a book that's left you wrecked and just ranting to him and he just listens and just falls in love all over again

Of course, thank you for my first request Anon.

I’m very excited cause this is all new hehe.

(The book reader talks about isn’t actually a book cause I couldn’t think of a real on to use 😊)

Remus Lupin x reader

Tear Stained Pages

Hot salty tears stained your flustered cheeks, it had been half an hour since you’d finished the book your boyfriend had recommended you and only 5 since the crying had stopped. It had broken you, you were sure of it, sobbing for the entirety of the last chapter and after. Pulling yourself up from your bed sluggishly you made your way to the boys dorm, the ending words from the book replaying in your head.

Remus looked up at the sound of the knock at his door, furrowing his brows as he sauntered over to see who it was, knowing that his 3 roommates were in detention that evening. The old door creaked as he opened it, your pretty face greeting him. The beginnings of a smile rested on his scarred face, only for it to fade when he noticed the state you were in.

With ruffled hair that stuck out in all different directions, puffy red eyes and a runny nose, dressed in pyjamas that were falling apart at the seams, you felt a mess. Remus thought the opposite.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” His voice dripped with worry as he pulled you into his room, arms opening to welcome you into a warm embrace. As much as you wanted to yell at him for recommending you the book that caused all this, you couldn’t resist the opportunity to hug the boy. Snuggling your face into his chest, your arms, weak with emotional exhaustion, wrapping around his waist.

“Why did he have to die?” Your voice is weepy and muffled against Remus’s sweater, it smells of him, that earthy scent with a hint of chocolate that always leaves a warm fluttery feeling in your stomach. At your words Remus smiles sadly, knowing you’d finished his latest recommendation.

“You finished the book.” He chuckled slightly, you pulled away and smacked his chest playfully, a pout falling on your flushed face.

“Don’t laugh! Why would you want me to read that book, it’s so sad! First her dad dies, then she finds love, and then he dies?! Not only that but she finds the engagement box on the night of the funeral and -“ you continue to rant about everything you’d read, pushing your way into the room and falling down onto the werewolfs bed.

Remus watched you grumble and shout out your anguish, his heart beating extra fast as you looked up at him with a look of feign betrayal. He lay down next to you, hand reaching up to take yours and rub his thumb over your knuckles, a simple yet sweet attempt at comfort. He couldn’t help but stare at you, his girl. Your face was filled to the brim with emotion, the passion you held for a simple work of fiction being so strong had him falling for you all over again.

“M’sorry Love, I didn’t mean to upset you.” You stop talking now, turning on your side to face the boy, the way he was looking at you almost made you nervous, such a loving gaze.

“It’s okay, just make sure the next one isn’t too sad, please?” Your little plea had his heart shuddering in his chest, stomach twisting in a knot of giddiness and adoration for you. He nodded against the blankets, a smile on his face.

“Course Darling, whatever you want yeah?” You crawled forward into his arms, falling against Remus and being overtaken by a sense of safety and love, his hand running over the length of your back and tracing random pictures till you calmed down.

[final-girl96]

STOLEN HEARTS CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Summer 1985

It was a hot day in Hawkins, Indiana. Hot and humid. It was the fourth of July weekend l, everyone was having barbecues and setting up to set off fireworks. It was six in the evening and I felt like I was melting. The fair was in town and Eddie decided it would be a good idea to go. "It's so hot!" I whined. "We could be back at my house, where there are no parents at all, may I remind you, and we could be in the pool."

Eddie hummed and handed me my drink while he grabbed his and the funnel cake. "Come on, babe, fair food is the fucking best!" He said. We sat down at one of the picnic tables to eat. "You've eaten like almost everything since we got here an hour ago, Eddie." He pulled a piece of the funnel cake and popped it in his mouth. "I'm a growing boy." I snorted and rolled my eyes.

It was hard to even believe we've been together for a year. I was amazed he even graduated from high school. And I honestly didn't believe he would be able to be a one woman kind of guy. I was sure he was going to break up with me after we graduated. But here we are and he hasn't even looked at another girl. "What's the real reason we're here? Is it because you have a deal?" I asked, lowering my voice so nobody else would hear.

He started to shove the funnel cake in his mouth, shaming his head. His way of avoiding answering me. "Edward Munson!" He flinched and gave me those stupid puppy dog eyes of his. "Stop that!" I said pointing at him, but he just kept looking at me with those big brown eyes. "I hate you." A smile stretched across his face, "no you don't. You love me," he said around a mouth full of food.

"Don't talk with your mouth full!" I said, throwing a piece of the funnel cake at him. He swallowed his food and grinned at me. "So, you love me?" He asked. I looked at him confused. "What?" I asked. He leaned over the table so he was closer to me. "You love me," he said. He was smiling from ear to ear. "I love you, too, sweetheart." my heart was beating out of my fucking chest.

We've been together for a fucking year now, and that's the first time he's said that. I knew I loved him after two months together. I mean, I started having those feelings after prom, but still. I just didn't want to risk saying it and him not feeling the same way, so I decided to wait, and see if he would say it first. As time went on I figured he didn't feel that way about me. "Sweetheart, you okay? You look like your going to fucking puke."

"You love me?" I whispered. "Well, I mean…umm…I'm sorry." He looked sad now. The smile was gone, the light in his eye faded, his head was down. "No! I…I do…love you. I just didn't think you felt the same." His head snapped up to look at me in shock. "What? Why would you think that?" He asked. I shrugged, "because it's been like a year. So I just figured you didn't feel that way. And I didn't want to say anything and ruin things."

He reaches for my hand, pulling it closer so he can kiss my knuckles. "You're the first actual girlfriend I've had. I didn't do relationships before you, sweetheart. I'm just making it up while I go. I'm also not good at expressing my feelings. But trust me when I tell you I've loved you for a while now, I just didn't know how to say it." He stood up, not letting go of my hand.

"Come on, let's get you out of the heat. I don't want you over heating. I mean, with the hot weather and then being near me…" I lightly hit his chest when he pulled me up. "You're so full of yourself." He grabbed the empty plate and his cup, mine already in my hand, and we started walking back where he parked the van. We threw our trash away on the way out.

"What do you want to do? We could check out the new Star Court Mall. Get some ice cream before going back to your place." Eddie pulled the passenger side door open and then slapped my ass when I was climbing up into the seat. "Hey, watch it! Ice cream sounds good." I leaned out of the door and kissed him. He hummed and smiled at me. "Anything for you m'lady," He said and bowed before shutting the door.

The cool air conditioning inside the mall felt so good against my hot skin. Eddie was fucking crazy for wearing jeans in this heat. "Oh, my god," I moaned, closing my eyes and tilting my head back. "That feels so fucking good." I opened my eyes to see Eddie staring at me, his eyes darker than before. I felt all the heat in my body rush up to my face. "Sweetheart…wait til we get home for you to be making those kinds of noises." He looked around before pulling on the crouch of his pants.

"Oh, my god! Control yourself, perv!" I laughed. "That's going to be in my head the whole fucking time we're here!" He groaned. I grabbed his hand and pulled him towards Scoops Ahoy. Steve Harrington was behind the counter to my shock. "Welcome to Scoops Ah…oh, hey, yn. Munson." Eddie nodded at him and looked away.

"Hey, Steve. So…you scoop ice cream for a living…what happened to college?" I asked. He shrugged, "grades weren't good enough and my dad made me get a job. So, what can I get you two?" He asked. The window behind him opened and Robin Buckley popped her head out. "Hey, yn!" She waved. "Hey, Robin!"

"Hey, loser, she doesn't count, she's taken!" Steve rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "I wasn't flirting with her, Robin." He looked at her then turned back to me. "What can I get you?" He asked. "Umm…"F/F. Eddie?" I turned to look beside me to see him looking across to the other side of the mall. "Eddie!" His head snapped towards me. "Hmm? Oh, uh, whatever you got is fine."

I looked back at Steve and Robin, who had a questioning look on their faces. I shrugged, and Steve went to get our ice cream. "That will be two fifty." Eddie pulled his wallet out and handed Steve a five, "keep the change." He took his cone and grabbed my hand, pulling me out of the ice cream shop and towards the front doors. "Eddie! Holy shit, what the hell? Eddie, slow down!" I pulled my hand out of his, and he stopped. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

[mooodyblue]

first of congrats!!! 🩵🩵🩵

🍼 little aussie is sick at daycare. like they call us after he like threw up and had a nasty fever. and poor thing is just wailing in their arms and he’s wrapped in a blankie 🥺

tyyy 🫶🏼🫶🏼

1k celeb post (closed)

cw: vomit.

you were to get a bit of shopping done today. unfortunately, austin had a rough night and it resulted in him slipping this morning. normally, you could leave him at home for a little while, but you didn't quite trust him in this state.

he was crushed when you dropped him off for a few hours. but all your promises of buying him a new plushie and ice cream later for being such a good boy lightened his spirits a bit.

you were about halfway through your shopping when you got the call, hearing his quiet sniffles in the background. you dropped everything to pick him up and it broke your heart hearing his cries against your chest as you brought him out to the car. "aussie real sorry, momma." austin sniffled, knuckling his eyes.

you kneeled down to his level in the back seat once you got him strapped in. "hey, you're okay. it's okay. you were such a big boy in there!" you smiled. "we all get sick sometimes, especially good boys like you."

austin was mortified. he had puked up his breakfast before making it to the bathroom in time. he was feeling fine this morning, but after a couple hours—it all hit him at once. chills, body aches, stomach pain and everything that comes with a stomach bug.

"let's get you home, okay?" you pressed your hand against his forehead with a frown. "if you feel sick, don't be afraid to tell me."

it was like right on cue. as soon as you pulled up to your driveway and opened the back door, he hurled onto the pavement with no warning. thankfully, he missed your shoes.

you scooped him up and brought him inside, making a mental note to hose down the driveway later.

austin was a mess. he knew taking you out to dinner last night would be a bad idea. now here he was, tears in his eyes, shaking and fighting off the most horrendous stomach pain of his life as he sat wrapped up in his favorite blanket on the sofa. "momma..." he whined.

"i know, bun. i know." you sighed. he took his medicine like a champ, but continued to cry and whine softly. you gave him some water in a sippy cup and let it on the coffee table, but as you stood up, he quickly grabbed your arm, letting out a whimper. "d-don't go. don't go. please, don't go momma."

you gave him a sad pout, sitting back down on the sofa and rubbing his back. "alright, i won't go anywhere. you're safe now. you wanna watch a movie?"

he gave you a sad nod, wrapping the blanket around him tighter as you put his favorite disney movie on. the two of you snuggled up as he fought off his awful stomach bug, eventually allowing him to doze off with his head pressed against your chest.

[amy-maguire]

Toga.. that's me. Act Like You Love Me - Chapter 5

“You feel light-headed?” Izuku asked, his voice returning to the concern it had been before he had started to suspect her. Maybe he was wrong? “Do you need help Uraraka-san?” He continued. Toga shook her head to the door, putting more of her weight on it. Tears stung her eyes again and she finally felt them starting to pour down her cheeks. She let out a sob, she couldn’t help it. “Stop this you demon! No one will want to be friends with you if you keep doing things like this!” She remembered her mother scolding. Izuku frowned, he’d hurt her, hadn't he? “Hey.. I..” The boy stuttered, “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I'm sorry..!” He apologized, gesturing to the waiter that they’d need another couple of minutes. The waiter nodded and they were alone. As alone as they could be, but separated. 

Toga took a deep breath as her voice cracked in sobs, “Stop crying..” She thought, covering her mouth as she tried to suppress them. “Stop crying.” She repeated. Izuku looked at the door, “I’m sorry..” He apologized again, “I never meant to hurt you..” He said softly. Toga moved her hand from her mouth and cried, “It’s not you.. It’s me..!” She whimpered. Her heart was melting down in her stomach as her feelings of panic boiled down into sadness, into sorrow. Taking a moment Toga stood up and opened the door, Izuku’s eyes widened as he saw the blood dripping from her knuckles. 

“Uraraka..! You’re bleeding! What happened?” He asked, before moving closer to her. But that just hurt more, it was Uraraka that he wanted. “Please..don’t.” She said using one of her hands to wipe some of the tears. “I just got a little upset..” She explained, “I just need a bandage.” Izuku felt his eyes sting, “I stressed her out enough to make her do something rash.” He thought, but in the back of his mind he was reminded of how this wasn’t like Uraraka. This didn’t seem right. 

“Let me help you clean up..” He offered, taking her hand without thinking. Toga blushed but her joy quickly faded to sorrow again. “Seems I’ve really messed up Deku-kun..” She sobbed, “I’m sorry to ruin this.” She apologized, zoning out slightly. She always knew that something like this would probably happen. Confused, Izuku tilted his head examining her, “You didn’t ruin anything.. I promise..” He said, consoling her.

Toga shook her head, “Can we just go back to the da- the food?” She asked. “I want to forget that these bad things happened.” Izuku frowned, “Let me fix your hand up first, then we can go do whatever you want.!” He said. Toga felt a bit unsure, what was the point now? If she’d messed things up, why should she go back now? She sighed, but maybe for a little bit, before her blood wore off, she could finish her ramen. Then she could get his blood and everything would be okay. “Just pretend he likes the real you.” She thought, before shoving the thought to the back of her mind so that she could escape. 

…

Katsuki cursed again, Uraraka wasn’t responding to them. Iida held her attempting to console her, “Uraraka.. You’re safe, it’s Iida. It’s Tenya, I’m right here.” Uraraka just kept hyperventilating, this wasn’t working. “Bakugou, get some more cold water. We need more of it.” Iida instructed. Bakugou obeyed, got some more cold water and then ran over to the cashier. “Get a freaking ambulance will you!?” He yelled as the cashier backed up. “S-sorry sir!” They apologized and started calling up the emergency number. It took about 15 minutes for an ambulance to show up. But to Katsuki it felt like an hour. It felt like two hours. It felt like his best friend was dying and he was watching. 

“Keep yourself together.” He thought, “You’re better than this, than everyone.” He finished trying to reassure himself. Finally he looked up and he noticed the red and white vehicle. Quickly he ran to Iida who was holding her in his arms fully. She looked completely frozen and she just kept crying. Without warning Katsuki took her from Iida’s arms and held her close as he ran to the ambulance. Iida opened his mouth to protest but instead he just followed behind. Bakugou’s concern was on his face, it was obvious. Normally nothing was obvious about that boy. 

After Ochako was moved into the ambulance Katsuki and Iida followed, “Hurry up!” Katsuki yelled, “Do your dang job!” One of the personnel gave him an annoyed glance and he quieted himself. Iida started explaining the situation as calmly as he could, but to be honest he was keeping up appearances. He didn’t want to cry in front of Uraraka, not when he needed her. He was the class representative and he wouldn’t fail now. “She just.. Froze and started panicking. I’ve tried multiple things to try and break her out of her panicked state, but she hasn’t responded.” He explained, and one of the EMT’s who was talking to Iida frowned, “I see, while we try to help her, does she have anyone she’s especially close with? Anyone who she especially trusts?” He asked. Bakugou and Iida glanced at each other and at the same time spoke. “Deku.” Iida quickly fumbled around in his pocket for his phone but Bakugou already had his out.

“Give me a minute I’ll get that nerd on the phone.” He said, stepping out of the ambulance to find service. There was poor service in the area, and he was having a hard time connecting. He cursed trying to find a spot. Meanwhile, Iida was continuing to explain all that he could to the EMT. But.. Ochako.

Ochako wasn’t really herself, not that that wasn’t obvious. But it was like even though there were five people around her right now, she didn’t see them. They were blurs, time was a blur.. For the past thirty minutes she had been convinced she was dying. No matter how many times she heard Tenya’s muffled ‘I’m here’ through the panic, it didn’t do anything. Her heart was still pounding out of her chest, it was hard to breathe, she was crying, and it felt like she was going crazy on top of that. She wanted to puke again. “Deku..” She muttered, her subconscious jumping in for a moment as if to let people know what she wanted, or what she needed right now. “Help..” She whispered and an EMT tried to speak to her, get her to respond. But then she was back to her silent state.

Every couple of minutes she would remember the receipt and the word chocolate and she’d panic again, a resurging pound of nausea coming with it. This sucked. After a couple more minutes of the EMTs trying to help and failing, Iida came back over to join the effort. He sat next to her, but he was still a blur in Uraraka’s eyes. Finally Iida remembered a technique none of them had tried, “Hey..” He took her hand slowly, “Can you focus on breathing for a second?” he asked, and the EMT backed him up. Originally both boys had thought an ambulance wouldn’t be necessary, but as the panic attack started getting progressively worse and she started muttering things like, “I’m going crazy.” or “I’m dying.” they felt that this was something that needed adult intervention. 

Ochako tried to breathe because luckily she was able to hear his voice through the panic. But despite the deep breaths the gain was little and she was still very shaken up. That’s when everyone heard Bakugou’s voice again, “YES! I GOT IT!” Katsuki had gotten a signal. Ochako flinched a little at the loud noise and squeezed Iida’s hand tighter. Meanwhile Bakugou started to spam text Izuku. When the texts didn’t go through he started calling him. 

…

Toga and Izuku were sitting down again and Toga’s hand was bandaged. The tension in the room was heavy and despite the attempts at regular conversation it didn’t lift. “Do you like your ramen?” Izuku asked fumbling with his hands trying to fidget, he didn’t want to say anything wrong and hurt her again. He felt bad for suspecting “Ochako”, especially after hearing her sob. Even though she wasn’t crying now she still looked numb. She looked like she’d realized something. “Hey.. again I’m so sorry..” He interjected before she answered, not like she looked like she was going to. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Toga frowned and shook her head, “It’s fine Deku, I shouldn’t have gotten so worked up. I was just so embarrassed and I..” She muttered, lying through her teeth again. 

She was quiet before Izuku answered her, “No, you didn’t overreact, I promise!” He comforted before feeling his phone buzz several times. “Who’s texting me?” He thought before going to his phone and turning it on silent, not even bothering to check the texts. Toga was more important in his mind even if he didn’t know it was her. “You’re.. Really amazing for saying that you know..” Toga said, blush tinting her cheeks. She was sad but she couldn’t help but compliment him. That wonderful boy who wasn’t hers. Izuku frowned, even though he liked the compliment it seemed like one given out of hurt. She seemed hurt. She was hurt. “Thank you, but you’re pretty amazing too you know Uraraka-san-” He got cut off by the ringing of his phone. “I thought I turned it on silent!” He thought and embarrassed he took his phone out of his pocket. “I’m so sorry! Just give me a moment to tell this person I can’t talk right now.” 

Toga nodded, right now her guard was down. She was convinced that she had ruined things and no matter what her inner thoughts were she couldn’t bring herself to harm him yet. Something was restraining her, maybe it was the body she was in. “Hello?” Izuku’s voice sounded. “Oh, hi Kacchan what do you-” He stopped short. “What do you mean Ochako’s in an ambulance.?” 

Toga froze.

[denimbex1986]

'All of Us Strangers feels like the film Andrew Haigh has been waiting to make. Whether it’s his breakout feature, Weekend, or the HBO series Looking, this director is clearly interested in the idiosyncratic, lonely lives of certain gay men. There is a bittersweetness that comes with so much progress won in such little time. While many men are still reeling from the AIDS crisis and institutional discrimination, a new generation of voters has sprung up that takes gay prom kings and same-sex marriage for granted. All of Us Strangers is at its smartest when bringing these truths to light. It’s a little too polished for such raw subject matter, but this tender film deserves acknowledgement for spotlighting an overlooked – but very real – struggle.

All of Us Strangers may borrow its premise from the 1987 Japanese novel Strangers by Taichi Yamada, but it’s a loose adaptation. For maximum delight you should go in knowing as little as possible, but here are the basics: Andrew Scott is Adam, a screenwriter in his 40s just muddling through. His friends have all left London with their partners and children, and he spends his nights watching old TV and downing biscuits. Change presents itself in the form of Harry (Paul Mescal), Adam’s hot neighbor, and a new writing project. But as Adam mines his own youth for material, specters of the past step forward. Literally. Adam begins to spend much of his time with the ghosts of his dead parents, played by Jamie Bell and Claire Foy, who have manifested in his childhood home.

As he grows close to people — or spirits — again, Adam reflects on the culture that taught him to isolate himself. Too old to call himself “queer” instead of “gay” and too young to have spent much of his adulthood worrying about the AIDS epidemic or Section 28, Adam recounts a life colored by mundane discrimination. A classic “sensitive boy” with no athletic talent, he was alienated by peers and even his own father for not being manly enough.

There were seeds of this in Weekend, where the leads debated the drawbacks of flamboyance and blending in, but it’s satisfying to see things spelled out so clearly. With no cultural roadmap for growing up gay, Adam is stuck in arrested development, standing still in a hollow London high-rise while his friends happily embark on “real life.” His rendezvous with the past only emphasizes that inertia.

I’m not saying All of Us Strangers is a film about how sad it is to be gay – just a realistic one. There’s joy to be found in Adam and Harry’s budding relationship and the funny bumbling of Bell and Foy. Haigh’s signature visuals are almost unbearably pretty, with no golden hour left un-filmed. This film celebrates the good and bad of life rather than lamenting it. That’s mostly a lovely thing.

I say mostly because, well, it should be easy to make a raggedy, sad, bitter gay movie in 2023. And yet All of Us Strangers, Haigh’s first feature with a mainstream awards push – also his first with major distribution, via Disney’s Searchlight Pictures – plays nice. We already know Scott can volley from cynical to romantic on a dime (hello, Hot Priest), but while Adam has plenty of reason to be hard-hearted, he hardly acts it. In fact, the one time he does, the universe delivers him a brass-knuckled dick punch that, sure, makes sense for the plot – but still feels downright mean. Maybe Haigh wanted to make a more pleasant gay movie this go-round, but All of Us Strangers is a film that Glen, the sardonic, in-your-face protagonist of Weekend, would probably sneer at.

The film’s pat niceness is most glaring in its final scenes, as Adam’s story resolves in a way that is both too neat and also not really about Adam anymore. There’s nothing wrong with a gay movie with a broad, existential message, but damn. All of Us Strangers spends most of its runtime generating empathy for a guy who has shut himself off from the world, only to visit horrors upon him when he loosens up. Let a gay indulge.

Verdict

All of Us Strangers is all the things that will be trumpeted in its marketing: gorgeous, necessary, poignant. The cast is stacked, the visuals are breathtaking, and the subject matter is important. You’ve likely never seen a movie that tackles the specific loneliness many gay men still face today, and this one is laudable for that alone. However, All of Us Strangers airs on the side of saccharine, especially towards the end, and it would benefit overall from some more human ugliness.'

[soleilnomoon]

requesting off anon this time- really loved the one you did already ;w; peppermint, sorbet, pastelito de guayaba, marshmallow, & cake pops. i'd like to top them off with whipped cream & poppy seeds. side menu #1 ace with female or gn reader please! thank you in advance!

hi omg 💗 i am so sry this took forever; i'm glad you enjoyed the other one, i had a lot of fun writing and suffering 😊 i love ace and i love angst, so i took my time with this one; i'm terrible with fluff and comfort, but i def tried this time (it won't hurt that much, maybe...)

1k words, fem (or gn) reader, no pronouns; sfw, 18+, mdni; hurt/comfort, fluff, and angst bc i can't help myself i am so sry (i'm not); no real warnings, just some sad boy ace vibes & a lil suggestive maybe; reader said something hurtful, but it's vague (and up to your imagination tbh, on what was said)

“i hope someday to say out loud to anyone: you touched me & touched me & touched me & i was made better for it.” — erin slaughter

there’s an imposing wall that’s erected inside of him, constructed sloppily with hundreds of weathered bricks — crumbling from time and neglect, from broken promises and insomnia-induced outbursts — made purely from his unshed tears, obsessive thoughts, and years of him miserably combing through painful memories. there’s never been an appropriate time to say i told you so, but eventually those words flit about in the air, circulating late at night, stealthily crawling in between the floorboards, an unsettling feeling pulsing through his veins. it’s aggressive and perilous; an intricate web of complicated scenarios that refuse to leave him alone.

the words grow loud enough to gnaw at his mind, his chest an unwilling participant turned into a desolate a war zone rife with empty threats and childish wishes. the remnants of his battered heart, frayed at the edges, ribbons of silk spun from despair and solitude, wrap tightly around each one of his ribs. tight enough to constrict; bones that were once indestructible are ground into a fine powder.

penance, he reminds himself; a hefty, burdensome payment for the sin of his existence. but it’s simply not enough.

an inconsequential fight leaves him frustrated beyond reason; his inadequacies clomp around noisily, interrupting his sleep, making him pace down long, empty corridors while everyone else sleeps. more proof, he reasons— the thought remains unfinished, another discarded notion that will likely crop up again and again and again. he tugs at his hair in defeat, teeth clenched, tension shooting through his shoulders and neck.

your words play on a loop; the cadence of your voice a curse that traps him in a cowardly game of cat and mouse. if he repeats them to himself enough times, they might lose meaning, the sting will become less noticeable. tolerable. a scarlet letter that you callously brand on his heart.

it’s guilt that has your sheets tangled around your body, that plunges you into darkness — thick, unnavigable, a nightmare sitting heavily on your chest, clawing at your thoughts. when you try to scream, you’re unable to move; throat dry and scarred, the apology you’ve rehearsed for hours — words you’ve agonized over, handpicked with precision and affection — bubbling around, making it difficult to ignore your role in all of this.

is it sleep paralysis or cowardice that prevents you from fully waking up? you’re not sure. but something prompts you to get up as sweat glides down your face and onto your neck. the room is stifling, a prison of sorts, one that you intentionally sequestered yourself to for the duration of the night.

hindsight is unkind and unforgiving, your steps are hurried, bile clinging to the back of your throat; you nearly lose your nerve and slow down, breathing unevenly, hands clutching the hem of your shirt as you press your back against the wall. ace rounds the corner, sees you close your eyes and inhale deeply — it’s muscle memory, the way his legs carry him over to you, his strides swift and purposeful.

while he wants to shake you, to ask you why, why, why, he doesn’t. ace brushes his knuckles down your cheeks — round, soft, stained with dried tears — and you finally exhale.

behind the fading anger, behind the veneer of impassivity, a tenderness and adoration that you don’t deserve — his eyes hold a warmth that you will covet for the rest of your life. irony is the favorite cousin of misery, so it’s unsurprising that you both open your mouths and simultaneously say, i’m sorry.

you press your fingers against his lips, head shaking, curls frizzy, out of place — a storm, chaos, and beautiful to him all the same — you’re certain that if you let him continue, you’ll never say what you need to say.

“i…i shouldn’t have said that. it wasn’t right, and it’s not true, you know that right?”

silence is all he can offer you as he’s still reeling from your admission. the fault is not entirely yours, he knows, but he can’t seem to bring himself to stop your rambling. he used to think his feelings for you were too big, always expanding, shifting around, filling him unnecessarily — but now he knows that he’s had it all wrong. in your desperation to over-explain yourself, additional tears spill down — an overflowing well, heart swollen with vulnerability. he watches the way you cradle his hand in yours, thumbs gently kneading into his palms; a soothing massage of sorts, one that makes it difficult to stay upset.

you realize that, once again, you’ve let yourself get carried away. the sensible thing would be to properly talk things out, but you’re at your limit and can barely look him in the eyes. so you turn away and prepare to sprint back to your room; ace grabs onto your arm and holds you still.

“wait,” his voice is low, husky — a little hoarse from berating himself repeatedly — and he drops his hand so he can hold onto yours, “don’t leave.” in your haste to direct the flow of this theatrical affair, you forgot that his charm is the focal point of his magnetic persona. he kisses your palm once, twice; you start to lose count when he presses a lingering kiss on the inside of your wrist, and if he wasn’t already holding onto, your legs would’ve betrayed you terribly. still, you hardly feel any shame over it, instead allowing ace to bring you to his room.

under thick blankets, you curl into him. your fingers trace shapes on his broad chest, pausing when he inhales sharply — fingertips ghosting his skin as you craft another, more intimate, apology. your lips are soft against his — kisses even more so — and when fatigue makes its rounds again, you both struggle to stay awake. but it’s your hands rubbing small circles on his back that demolishes a significant portion of that wall, making it easier for him to breathe, sleep wrapping its long, spindly arms around him. it takes you a little longer, but you don’t mind it — not at all. you’re much too content enjoying this brief respite, hopeful that all of this might spill over into the morning.

[rezzyromance]

Idk if this is how you request things or if it's just asking, BUT-

How would the Lords react to an S/O that's usually the chillest person that you will ever meet (not to be confused with a pushover because they are not), they've never seen them even mildly annoyed when something bad happens. But then something happens and, turns out, the S/O is utterly TERRIFYING when they're mad.

Hope this makes sense!

Aw man I'm gonna feel awful scaring Moreau and Donna :(

Alcina

You're relaxing on a beautiful morning. The sun is shining through the window just enough to warm the room but not hurt your eyes. You hadn't even changed out of your sleep wear. "How are you feeling, my dear?", a sweet voice rang from the doorway. You were sitting in your favorite chair near the window. You turn and smile at her. She walks over and rubs your face in her large hand before leaning down and giving you a soft kiss. "I'm feeling amazing. And you?", you grab her hand before she pulls it away and you place a kiss on her knuckles. "I'm feeling alright. There's a new maid here. She's a bit slow. I'm giving her until tonight to finish dusting the entire castle or else she won't see another sunrise." It was almost comedic how dark her words were as you both stared out the window and gazed at the beautiful scenery. "Come on Alcina.", you stand up and place your hands on hers, trying to hold them despite the size difference. "Give the girl a break. It's a huge castle AND it's her first day.", you knew your words would probably change nothing. Alcina was rather cruel, but you looked past it. You tried your best to make the nervous maids comfortable whenever they arrive.

"We'll see how she does." She gives you one more kiss before leaving the room. You sit back down in your chair, enjoying the warmth of the sun for a little while longer. You lose track of time, minutes maybe even hours go by. Suddenly, there's a crash not far from the door. You jump and stand up, no longer comfortable after being startled. "What in the name of Mother Miranda?!", you leave the room and look down the hallway. The new maid stood there with a terrified look on her face. In front of her was one of the paintings Alcina had on her walls, now with a broken frame and a hole punctured. Your blood began to boil. It was a painting of you, her, and the girls all together. It was your favorite. "How in the hell did you manage to do that?!", you begin to stomp towards her. She cowers and struggles to find her words. "I-I-I was just dusting! It fell and I-I didn't mean t-", you cut her off. "How the fuck did you knock such a large painting over just by dusting?! DO YOU THINK YOU'RE ALLOWED TO MAKE SUCH STUPID MISTAKES HERE?!", you unravel. "I-I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!", she almost begins to weep. "SORRY ISN'T GONNA SAVE YOUR ASS!"

"MISS DIMITRESCU PLEASE HELP!", she cries out. You freeze, realizing that the lady herself is right behind you. You turn to face her. Her eyes are wide with shock. She has never seen you like this before and never even knew you had this type of side to you. She was impressed as much as she was terrified. "(Y/N)? Are you alright my love?" She had no idea what to do as your seething slowed down. "Why don't you go back to the room, yes? Settle down a little and deal with her later.", she places a hand on your back helps walk with you back to the room. Once you're there, she bends down to whisper in your ear. "I don't know where this side of you has been this whole time, but I am so amazed by you. And also a little frightened."

Donna

The Beneviento house was usually a calm place despite its creepy aura. You and Donna are both quiet and chill people. Never once have you fought or even raised your voices at each other. It was pleasant.

You had planned a nice dinner for the both of you. You wanted to try out a new recipe and surprise her, so you made your way to the kitchen to get started. "Okay, what first? I guess I'll need a pot.", you go rummaging through the kitchen and you find the pots stacked within each other inside one of the top cabinets. You groan and stand up on your toes, grazing the pots with your fingers. It didn't take much to cause them to tumble down, crashing on top of you with a loud sound that followed. "Aw shit.", you sighed and picked up the knocked over pots. A small but annoying pain began to throb in your head from where it made contact with a pot. What you didn't notice was you forgot to pick one of the pots up. It remained unnoticed. "It's fine.", you say to yourself as you maintain your composure. Next, a cutting board and knife. You turn around and begin to walk forward to find the cutting board, but you slam your toe into counter. You wince in pain and grab your foot. "SON OF A BITCH!", you yell.

You calm yourself, still wanting to have a pleasant meal with Donna. "Alright. Everything's fine." You step forward and kick the pot that you had forgotten to pick up. It caused your freshly kicked toe to ache even more. "OH COME ON! GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!", you scream and swear as you throw your arms up in pure rage and shock.

"...(Y/N)?", a gentle voice whispered from the doorway, causing you to whip your head in that direction. It was Donna. She looked absolutely horrified and almost looked like she could cry. "Is.. is everything... are you alright?", she worried. "Yes. I'm sorry. Just got a little pissed off.", you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, feeling bad for scaring the poor girl.

Moreau

You were sitting on the dock together, looking into the water as your feet swung back and forth above it. It was a sunny day and you two decided to spend it outside. Your hand slowly made its way over to his. His feet stopped swinging for a second as you entangled your fingers. "I don't know what I'd do without you, (Y/N)." his words were bitter sweet as a gentle smile formed from his lips. "Oh, Sal. You don't have to think like that. I'll always be here for you.", you kiss his cheek and continue to relax as you sway your legs.

"There it is! There's the beast!", a voice yelled from not so far away. You both look in the direction of the voice and see a few young village boys. Possibly between the ages of 13 and 16. Moreau had become some what of a scary story for the villagers. A tale that kids spread on school court yard and bring up during dares. But, you've never seen a kid brave enough to actually make it far enough into the reservoir to actually see Moreau. Now, there were about 3. All of them stood and pointed, shocked and terrified.

"Hey beast! Come get me!", one kid teases. You glare at the kids as a newfound rage begins to boil inside you. "Let's go back inside.", Moreau says before standing up from the doc. The sadness in his voice was heartbreaking. Suddenly, one of the children gathers the guts to pick up a rock and throw it as hard as he could. His aim was off, but not by much. It slammed into the wood near Moreau's feet, startling him. "Take that you devil!", he laughs. "THAT'S IT YOU LITTLE SHIT!", you begin sprinting in the direction of the immature brats. Two of them run from the direction they came from while the one who threw the rock was frozen in fear. You took the opportunity to grab him by the collar of his shirt. "Listen here you little waste of space. I'm gonna give you 3 seconds to turn around and run for your goddamn life. If you or any of your little snot-nosed friends come around here again, they'll be goddamn fish food. Do you understand?" The kid was too scared to speak and instead began to nod rapidly. You let him go and watched as he ran as fast as he could, screaming the whole way.

You walk back to the shack and find Moreau standing in the same place he was when you took off. His mouth was agape and he looked almost as scared as the kids. "You alright Sal? I made sure those little shits won't be coming around here anymore." "Yeah... I didn't know you could be so... scary", he says. "I'm sorry. But those kids were being cruel. I had to do something.", you say. "Well... it was awesome!", he smiled. "But also very scary!" You laugh which helps sooth him a little.

Heisenberg

"Screw driver.", is all Karl said with an outstretched palm. He was working on some type of mechanical heart for his experiments. He wanted you to lend a "helping hand" even though he could easily do it all by himself. He did this because he wanted to be around you, he was just too stubborn with too big of an ego to simply say it. So here you were, handing him every little tool he asks for.

"Do you want the big one or the little one?", you say with a hint of boredom in your tone. "Aw c'mon don't sound like that! Isn't this exciting? It's like you're working on it with me! Also, hand me the big one.", you do as he says and hand him the big screw driver. "I just don't get it. You literally have powers. You can easily do this by yourself and have been for so long. Why do you need me to help?" He pauses for a second and looks over towards you, his brow slightly furrowed. "I don't NEED you to help. I just thought it would be nice for you to help out. Plus, you're the one always bitching about me constantly working. Well, here you are! Helping me work! So, either suck it up or you can leave." His harshness had no real ill will in it. He was just confused and a bit too ignorant to consider his words. But, he was testing your patience. He continued to use the screwdriver until handing it to you without saying a word.

"Hand me a screw.", he demanded with his hand facing palm up again. "Which size?" "They're all the same sizes, dumbass." You feel your blood begin to boil. "They're different fucking sizes! This one is smaller than this one!", you hold up two screws that are obviously different sizes. This makes Karl angry. Not because you were right, but because you seemed upset over something that seemed so insignificant.

"If you came here just to yap in my ear, then I don't think I need your assistance.", he huffed. You put the selection of tools and supplies he was making you hold on the table he is working on and ball your fists. "You're the one who told me to do this in the first place!", you yell. "Yeah, because you won't stop bitching! Non-stop you're always compla-" you cut him off before he can finish. "SHUT UP!", you yell. The room goes silent. "YOU SAY I'M BITCHING? HAVE YOU HEARD YOURSELF? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST KARL YOU BITCH AND MOAN ALL THE TIME! I'M DONE TAKING SHIT FROM YOU!" He wanted to be angry, but he couldn't. He felt something much more overwhelming. Was he.. intimidated? He didn't move from his seat. All he could do was look up at you with a confused expression. What now? What is there to do? If he pushes you further, what would happen? He was actually too scared to find out.

You take a deep breath to calm down before speaking. "Now, if you want me to help with your shit, I'll stay as long as you keep your mouth shut. Can you possibly manage to do that?" He gulps nervously. "Yes ma'am."

[whatisreggieshortfor]

Knock Out

Part One Part Two

MMA fighter trans!m!reader managed Nekoma after moving away from his best friend. But with the meddling of his brother and sister, that friend isn’t as lost as he thought.

Tendou x reader

“I’m moving.”

You fought the tears that burned in your eyes as you watched your best friend process the news. It was the last day of your first year of high school together, and you were moving to Tokyo. His dark red eyes looked shocked at the news before they softened, “I knew you were waiting to tell me something….but I’ll admit, I didn’t think it would be that.”

“Are-“ you stopped, taking a deep breath, “Are you mad at me, Sato’?”

“Never,” Tendou gave you a sad grin, “It makes sense you’d need to get away from here.” You nodded numbly, he was right in a way. It had only been two months since your mother died. Now, your absent father was sending you to live in a house he’d bought for you in Tokyo, so you could closer to your half siblings. But it meant you had to leave your childhood best friend. “Remember when we met as kids?”

You snapped out of your thoughts and gave him a watery smile, “‘Course. I broke three knuckles on those kids’ faces.” It had been true. Your mother had scolded you for dirtying your dress, half heartedly since you did it to defend a boy being bullied, and you insisted he come over for a play date when you were finished at the doctors. Your mom got his parent’s number and you’d been inseparable ever since. When he started volleyball, so did you. You did everything together.

“You’ve always been my knight in shining armor.” He chuckled, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you both leaned against his bed, manga you’d been reading forgotten in front of you. “You were the only girl to ever talk to me without it being for Ushiwaka.”

You gave a stiff chuckle “Ha, yeah…”

You had promised yourself you’d tell him before you left, but you kept chickening out.

So when you moved, you cut contact. Not because you wanted to, but because you were afraid of how he’d take the changes. At least this way you could pretend he was still your best friend, never face the risk of him rejecting your friendship when he found out you felt like a boy. And maybe cutting him off would dissipate the feelings that burned in your chest for him.

You moved to Tokyo alone, your father had essentially disowned you when his wife found out about his second family. But his wife left him all the same, and she tried to work with your mom to raise you and your half siblings together even with the distance. Now you were starting your third year, and your half siblings were closer than ever.

“Y/N!” Your brother cheered as he walked in the front door, wrapping his arms around you with a grin.

“Lyvochka! You are supposed to knock on the door, not just walk in!” Your sister chided, giving you an amused smile when only your eyes were high enough to peek over your brother’s shoulder.

“Ah, you’re right, Alisa! Sorry, Y/N!”

“Don’t worry, Lev.” You laughed as he released you, “I wasn’t expecting you guys for another hour. I haven’t started dinner yet.”

Alisa looked more amused, “Well, we needed to get here sooner because you two have school tomorrow, and Lev did something.”

“Don’t just throw me under the bus like that!” He groaned, pout settling into his face, “You helped this happen, you know?”

Alisa rolled her eyes, “All I did was mention to Kuroo that we had a brother.”

“Kuroo?” You really hoped it wasn’t the Kuroo you thought. Because that would only mean that your idiot brother wanted to drag you to the volleyball club.

Lev sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, half looking like he was trying to hide behind Alisa, “I may have told them that you agreed to be our new manager.”

“LEV!” You lunged for him as he ran to the other side of your living room.

“I’m sorry! They refused to believe that you were real, and then one thing led to another and I told them you’d be our manager!”

“Well tell them you had it wrong because I’m not doing it.”

“But-“ Lev was pouting more, “Kuroo said that if I couldn’t get you to at least show up once and turn down the job yourself, then he would bench me.”

You sighed. Your siblings had known about your life, your moms updating each other constantly, so they knew you played on the girls team growing up, but that you left it behind. “I’ll show up once. That’s it. But!” Lev looked terrified as you pointed a finger at him, “If you whine once- I swear to god-“

You still weren’t sure how your brother convinced you to do this. Standing in front of a group of boys that were staring at you in awe, wondering if their young first year was pulling their collective leg or not, but you sighed and confirmed, “I am L/N Y/N, third year, and I have signed up to be your new manager.”

The boy with what seemed to be perpetual bed head waved his hand, you knew he was the captain you’d heard about, Kuroo, “No, yeah, we got that, but are you seriously Lev’s brother?”

You blinked at that, but before you could reply said brother cut in, “Oh come on, what’s so hard to believe?”

“Your brother is pretty like your sister, you look like an ogre.” A boy with pudding colored hair answered, not looking up from his game boy. You knew that was Kenma from the stories.

“Why are you guys so mean to me?” Lev whined and you snapped a glare at him.

“Lev, what did we talk about if I agreed to do this?”

His eyes widened, “No, please, I won’t whine again, I-“

“Nope. You know the rules. I’m here, but if you whine, I get to spike a ball at you. Consider this receiving practice. You, Nintendou, you’re the setter, right? You wouldn’t mind setting it for me, would you?” Now, you knew how much Kenma hated extra work, so you fully anticipated him to say no, but instead he handed a ball to a short boy, who you think was Yaku to toss for him. As soon as the ball lined up with your palm, Lev dived to the side, and the ball continued on its path until it slammed into the net pole, snapping it in half. You sighed, “I suppose I’ll have to buy a replacement for that now.”

None of the other boys seemed to hear you as they stared at the broken metal, but Lev was still cowering on the ground, “Y/N, why would you really do that!? You know I can’t receive your hits!”

“You can’t receive any hits, little brother.”

“No, no, hold on, back the hell up,” you turned to the captain as he gestured at the pole, “If you can hit like that, why are managing instead of joining the team!?”

“You- you didn’t tell them?” You questioned your brother, who looked like he wanted to hide away from your judging gaze, “I specifically told you to tell them so I wouldn’t need to go through this. You told me they were cool with it! That’s the only reason I’m here!”

“I did! Or- I thought I did?” Lev suddenly looked sheepish, “I think I might’ve played through the conversation in my head.” You lunged for your brother, who hid behind Inuoka, as Kuroo and Yamamoto grabbed your arms to hold you back.

“Goddammit Lev! You promised me!”

“I promised it wouldn’t be a big deal! I know these guys, I swear it won’t be!” Lev shrunk even further down as you continued to glare at him, even as you grit your teeth and turned to Kuroo.

“I can’t play in your division.”

“What do you mean can’t? I’m assuming you aren’t on steroids or some-“

“I’m trans!” You screamed, your angry gaze locked on your brother. You ripped your arms free, “The regulations won’t let me play.” Before any of them could reply, you stomped your way out of the gym, heading down to the street as you fled school grounds, thankful you had come to the after school practice. You didn’t need to be there when they rejected you.

Unbeknownst to you, the entire team was now glaring at your brother, “You really told them that we already knew? What’s wrong with you?”

Lev felt anger flare in his own stomach, were they seriously against you? “If it’s a problem for you guys-“

“Of course it’s a problem!” Yaku smacked him across the back of the head, “We could’ve made him feel a lot more welcome if you had given us a heads up!”

That made Lev deflate, “I really thought I told you guys. Y/N, he used to play. Was the ace of the girls team at his middle school and first year of high school, he had one friend that he always played with from what I heard. He was gonna try out last year, but when we looked into the regulations and stuff-“

“It said he couldn’t because he wasn’t born a guy? Fuck, man, with that kind of power he could’ve easily been one of the top aces in the country.”

“Try the world, Tora,” Kuroo corrected, “Even Ushiwaka doesn’t have that kind of power.”

Kenma stared up at Lev with narrowed eyes, “Where would he go? To blow off the frustration you caused.”

“Probably to his gym.” Lev shrugged helplessly, “He had to fight and claw for the youth pro league he’s in to accept him, and he just didn’t want to do it again for a sport he wasn’t as passionate about.”

“Pro league? What sport does he do?”

Lev wasn’t entirely sure who asked, but he suppressed a smile, “You guys are in for a treat.”

You didn’t look up when the gym doors opened and closed a few times, with the odd hours this place ran it wasn’t abnormal for people to constantly be coming and going. Before you could even realize it, you broke another bag, “Fuck…Rei?”

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. You’re covered for the next couple.” Her chipper voice rang through a speaker from where she sat in her father’s office.

“Let me know when I owe you guys again, okay?” You saw her nod through the glass as you hooked up another bag, left, left, right, left, right, right-

“Y/N, you have visitors.”

You snapped your head up from the bag, surprised to see your brother peeking his head around the corner, “Haiba Lyvochka, you know you aren’t supposed to follow me here.”

“Ouch, full name.” You narrowed your eyes at the voice that was definitely not your brother’s, before seeing the extra eyes peering out around him.

“What do you guys want?” You asked outright, adjusting the tape wrapped around your hands before throwing the next punch.

It seemed like there was some discussion between them before Kuroo was shoved forward, the rooster head rubbing his neck as you paused your swings, “We still want you to be our manager.”

“You guys don’t need to force yourselves,” you sighed, stretching your arms out behind your head and starting on your cool down stretches, “I don’t need to join your club. I could try the art club or science again instead.”

“No, we want- wait, you were part of the science club?”

Kenma sighed, “Kuroo, stay focused.”

“Right. We aren’t forcing anything. We have nothing against you being trans.” He paused as you narrowed your eyes at him, suddenly feeling vulnerable under your gaze, “We, uh, we wanted you to feel welcome when Lev said you were coming, and we should’ve been prepared to make you feel that way no matter what happened. It’s on us that you didn’t.”

You watched him twich nervously for another minute before you finally nodded, “I see why you’re the captain, bedhead. You guys have practice every morning, right? I already got a set of keys from Nekomata, so I’ll see you then.”

“Wait!” You blinked as the boy with the bleached Mohawk stepped forward, “I’ve been trying to place your name for days, but- you’re that MMA fighter, right? You just made it to the quarter finals?” You nodded cautiously, “Man! I had a feeling as soon as I saw you, but you look different in the ring.”

Lev leaned down to his teammate, “You’re a fan?”

“Are you kidding!? I’m like the Vice President of the local chapter of his fan club!”

“My what now?”

It hadn’t been until Yamamoto pointed it out, but you found out that you did indeed have a fan club.

It was bizarre, suddenly you realized how many people watched you, and heard the way some random first years were trying to figure out how to ask for an autograph before deciding to chicken out. You didn’t realize you could have fans at this age. And every time it made you laugh, you would reach for your phone to tell Tendou had insane it was, just to remember you stopped talking to him over a year ago. Whenever that happened, your mood would drop, sometimes so suddenly that the volleyball players were concerned that you were being bullied or something. Lev tried his best to make you feel better, but he had never actually met your best friend. Only knew things like he had red hair, and that you stopped talking to him when you started your transition. Alisa was a little more practical when she figured out the problem.

“This guy.” Your sister pointed at the redhead in the framed photograph she had…’borrowed’ from your house.

Kuroo squinted at the photograph, studied the goofy face being made at the camera, “Do you happen to know what high school Y/N was at before he transferred to Nekoma?” It couldn’t be, right?

“Shiratorizawa? I think?”

Holy shit, it was.

“Why are we here?” You asked, looking around at the large gyms, “You guys don’t play today.”

Kuroo shrugged with a lazy grin, “Kenma won’t stop talking about the ginger from Karasuno, so coach said we could take the day off practice and watch some of the teams that we might play at Nationals.”

“And I needed to tag along because?” You rolled your eyes when the captain just smirked.

“How would we survive a group outing without our manager?” You grumbled under your breath at his reply, even as you snatched Lev and Yamamoto by their shirts as they tried to wander off.

It wasn’t until you saw colors of the teams playing in the gym they led you to, saw that enthusiastic face and head of bright red hair, you realized you’d been set up. Karasuno wasn’t playing on this court right now.

Shiratorizawa was.

Masterlist

[hel7l7]

I’m having a great time missing you

There’s a candle on the table that flickers every time I laugh. Next to me a friend keeps trying to touch my face when I talk. A glass falls over as I slap her hand away. We braid each others hair and gossip about those who went to our high school. The day after my sister hears me about the party. She asks me if I had been drinking. I tell her I didn’t. No drop of alcohol and I was still having a damn good time. It was only when I came home that my phone started burning in my hands again. That I startedwondering about the what ifs. Thinking about the partners of the other girls, and how I always show up alone.

How is it possible to miss something you never even had? How did I lose myself in something that wasn’t even real?

We sit in the train as it speeds over the tracks and I am giggling as I swirl my skirt to show a friend my outfit. She laughs as I show my underwear and comments on my skinny ass. I flip her off and sit down next to her. Listen to her voice as she dwells over two same named boys who both stole a piece of her heart. I tell her I’m not an expert on this but that she should not date her best friend. She agrees on this and shows me pictures of the other boy. It has been only half an hour in company and my hands keep trying to get my phone out of the small purse my sister let me borrow. I keep hoping to see your name on the screen.

What have I done wrong? What can I do to make this better?

I download tinder again. It is stupid. I’m exhausted because I messed up my sleeping schedule. There’s this emptiness in my chest that I can’t seem to fill. My photo galery doesn’t have anything to complete my profile with. I try to find something that doesn’t make me hate myself. My phone ends up somewhere in my bedsheets. I touch myself until I’m bleeding. Empty pleasure on repeat. Not stopping until I am lost in the idea that this is what I am; gross, dirty, unwanted.

It is just that I must be the worst person on earth. It is just that I think that no one will ever really like me.

I’m on the phone with a friend two days later. I’m tired of missing you. Tired of thinking that maybe you think of me too. There was hope in my chest but that fire is slowly burning out. They’ve started telling me it was not worth it. That I was once again making something out of nothing and that it is time to focus on something else. I try.

Letting go has never been something I was particularly good at.

My therapist doesn’t ask me about it. Somewhere deep down I want him to. Want to spill this mess all over the table and have him tell me how to fix this. But we talk about something else instead. I lose myself a little in the past. It helps me forget for a while. My knuckles bruise quite nicely when I let the sadness out.

I keep hoping to see your car somewhere. I keep wishing for some bravery on your side.

There’s a friend at my table who just read all the texts I sent to you when I was angry. She shakes her head a little but hands the phone back with a laugh. I tell her I always have to be a little dramatic. She nods, not understanding but it is fine. We talk about something else, and just like that it is gone. It is fine.

Tell me when did you get so good at disappearing?

I keep dreaming of you. Not in the conscious way but when I fall asleep you always show up somewhere. Some nights wanting me near, others telling me how much you hate me, how bad you need me to stay away. In the morning I force myself to forget. The questions stay unanswered anyway.

Aren’t you just afraid of being seen?

I want to disappear into the shame of ever believing this could be something. Want to talk about how weird this hurts. Nothing really broken. Only shattered hope that I keep trying to piece back together.

The bus to school shows me real life again, reminds me how easy disposable this is. Three weeks ago all of this didn’t even exist at all. Spent all summer trying to let go of you and didn’t expect it to ever come back to me. Class is fine, I worry about something else. About paint colors and how to use them. I don’t really expect you to call anymore.

I’m having a great time missing you but each time my phone rings I hope it is you.

[immortalconclusions]

Thoughts on Episode 1 of Interview with the Vampire (2022)

Hi there it's me ya boy immortal_conclusions.

It's been a long ride waiting for this show to come out. When it was announced a year and a half ago, my reaction was one of joy and then trepidation. "Hope for the best, expect the worst." That moment spawned hours and days and months of what the worst (and least academically inclined, I might add) among us called "intellectual debate" in this fandom, most of which was horrifying flaming garbage that most of you know about and that I won't get into here. As someone who remained optimistic throughout that time of uncertainty and tried to uplift voices of other people of color, it's been a long road. In the past year and a half I've written boatloads of fic, made dear friendships, burned friendships with others. A few months ago, I almost stopped writing and almost quit this fandom. I'm so glad I didn't, and today proves why.

"For the first time in my life, I was seen." - Louis de Pointe du Lac, Interview with the Vampire (2022)

This episode was, in a word, perfection. It was gut wrenching, gorgeous, brutal, and devastatingly sad. The framing device was using sparingly and effectively, and the pacing was magnificent. I almost didn't breathe throughout that entire ending sequence. It was a trainwreck hurtling towards its inevitable conclusion. It was overwhelming, dramatic, heartbreaking...everything it should have always been. The amount of respect and homage to canon was more than I'd ever expected.

I am not afraid to say this: they elevated and went beyond the source material.

The way they centered Louis' very human, very real struggles was so poignant and effective. Jacob Anderson portrayed his rage and his guilt and his white-knuckled repression with virtuosity. Louis is filled with guilt over the condemnation of his brother to a world which would never accept him, his homosexuality, immorality of his exploitive profession and the way it betrays his family and his race and his history. He is a man defined by his guilt, imprisoned by lies, and damned by cowardice.

"Bless me father, for I have sinned. Grievously sinned. I'm a drunk, Lord. I am a liar. I am a thief, Lord. I profit off the miseries of other men and I do it easy. Drugs, liquor, women. I lure them in and grab what they got, Lord. I take daughters with no homes and I put 'em out on the street, Lord, and I lie to myself, saying I'm giving them a roof and food and dollar bills in their pocket, but I look in the mirror, I know what I am -- the big man in the big house stuffing cotton in my ears so I can't hear their cries. And Lord I dragged my whole family into this mess with me. I shamed my father. I failed my brother. I lost my mother and sister, and rather than fix it like a man should, Lord, I run. Like a coward. I run to the bottle, I run to the grift, I run to bad beds. I laid down with a man. I laid down with The Devil. And he has roots in me. All his spindly roots in me, and I can't think nothing anymore but his voice and his words. Please, help me!"

This really got to me. That is Louis right there. That is the unfettered essence of his character. JA's performance was magnificent. (Jacob Anderson IS Louis de Pointe du Lac and I will never see him any other way.) This passage reminded me of what a genius Anne was to create this character that nobody ever had before, a character that has captured hearts and minds since. It was mainlining Louis straight into my soul.

Suffice to say, this was more than I'd ever hoped and imagined. I can't even begin to scratch the surface on some of the themes here and how much they mean to me, because I'm overwhelmed right now. This series that I've loved and grown so attached to, adapted in such a faithful and thoughtful way. Carrying all the themes through and transforming them into something even better than the original. I have a whole new appreciation for the source material that I never had before. I am floored and no joke this has restored my fucking faith in humanity. Literally. I am not even kidding about that. We all deserve to be seen. We all deserve to have the stories that are meaningful to us told and shared and loved. Today, we won.