#sorry in advance for the emotional damage

[ace-bucket]

Blood and Bones - Kodaline

[national-hockey-gay]

Making an Edit for Every Team in the NHL: The Boston Bruins (10/32)

original text

[urfavcrime]

Ive started watching Merlin..

OH MY GOSH A MERLIN MUTUAL WHAT CO YOU THINK SO FAR

[screechcat]

I sobbed, I sobbed like a bitch because the writing is wonderful and the story even better.

Sacrifices in the Name of Love

Alcina Dimitrescu X Fem!Reader

TW: Death, Grief, Suicide, Afterlife

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In the dimly lit library of the imposing castle, Alcina Dimitrescu and Y/N sat with their daughters, wrapped in an atmosphere of warmth and love. The crackling of the fireplace echoed the coziness that enveloped the family. Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela, the adoring daughters, reveled in the presence of Y/N, a figure they cherished beyond words.

Five years of togetherness, a year and a half of marriage—their bonds were woven into the very fabric of their existence. Y/N, with the extraordinary ability to shapeshift into various animals, brought a unique enchantment to their lives. Yet, little did they know that this enchanted evening would soon unravel into a heart-wrenching tale.

The tranquility shattered when news reached Alcina that an intruder, Ethan Winters, had breached the castle's defenses. Panic etched across her regal features as she made a fateful decision. "Bela, Cassandra, search the castle," she commanded, concern shadowing her face. Daniela, the youngest, was to remain in the library—a sanctuary now marred by impending danger.

As Alcina and Y/N locked the library door behind them, a silent understanding passed between the two. Y/N, determined to protect her newfound family, insisted on aiding the search. Alcina's protests fell on ears attuned to a different calling. "I'm not just a human," Y/N whispered, conviction in her eyes, a testament to the depth of her sacrifice.

They parted ways, promises of a reunion in two hours hanging in the air like fragile threads. Alcina watched Y/N disappear into the labyrinthine corridors, her heart heavy with worry. The castle, once a haven, now echoed with the haunting uncertainty of what awaited them.

As time trickled away, the library stood witness to Alcina's silent vigil. The crackling fireplace no longer whispered tales of warmth; instead, it mirrored the flickering hope in Alcina's eyes. In the looming darkness, the pages of their family's story turned, uncertainty etching its narrative, and the once blissful haven transformed into a poignant waiting room for the unknown.

The echoes of the castle seemed to taunt Alcina as she ventured into its cold, stone corridors. Panic clung to her like a suffocating shroud, the seconds ticking away like the beats of an anxious heart. Desperation etched her regal features as she searched for any sign of Y/N or the intruder who threatened their sanctuary.

Meanwhile, Y/N's search led her to the grand dining room, where the opulence of the setting clashed violently with the impending tragedy. As she prowled through the room, a sudden gunshot pierced the air, sending shivers down her spine. The ominous sound drew her towards the kitchen, where an unthinkable sight awaited her.

The once pristine kitchen now bore the scars of a violent struggle. Bela, noble and fierce, clashed with Ethan Winters amidst shattered glass. A broken window allowed the biting winter air to invade, casting an icy chill over the scene. Bela, weakened by the cold, succumbed to the inevitable, her form crystallizing into delicate remains that glistened in the pale light.

Y/N's heart shattered as she witnessed the loss of one of her beloved daughters. The air seemed to freeze around her, mirroring the unbearable grief that gripped her soul. She knelt beside Bela's crystallized form, her hands trembling as she reached out, a futile attempt to undo the irreversible.

Through tear-streaked eyes, Y/N whispered to the frozen remnants of Bela, words heavy with sorrow. "I'm so sorry, my love. I failed to protect you." The cold silence of the kitchen became a haunting backdrop to the lament of a grieving mother, a requiem for a life extinguished too soon.

Ethan, finally noticing Y/N, made a hasty retreat, leaving chaos in his wake. Y/N, shock still etched across her face, felt a surge of rage coursing through her veins. In that moment of anguish, she transformed into a sleek black panther, a manifestation of the darkness that consumed her soul.

The castle corridors reverberated with the haunting growls of the panther as it pursued the fleeing intruder. Y/N's once-human eyes now gleamed with an untamed ferocity, fueled by a mother's fury. The shadows embraced her as she raced through the labyrinthine passages, guided by an insatiable thirst for vengeance.

Amidst the darkness, Alcina continued her desperate search, unaware of the tragedy that had befallen one of their own. The castle, once a haven of love, now echoed with the anguished cries of a mother and the relentless pursuit of justice in the form of a vengeful panther, lost in the shadows of sorrow and revenge.

In the desolate corridors of the castle, Alcina's frantic search persisted, the weight of each footfall echoing her growing despair. Shadows clung to her like ghosts, haunting her every step as she traversed the cold expanse. Unseen and unheard, she pressed forward, her heart entwined with a mother's fear, an ominous premonition of impending loss.

Meanwhile, Y/N moved through the dimly lit halls, urgency propelling her towards the armory—a once sacred space now marred by the imprints of tragedy. As she entered, the scene unfolded before her like a macabre play, and the air thickened with a sense of foreboding.

Cassandra, the second of their cherished trio, fought valiantly against the unrelenting onslaught of Ethan Winters. Y/N's heart raced as she rushed to intervene, a desperate attempt to shield her daughter from the looming threat. However, in the cruel ballet of combat, Y/N found herself on the receiving end of Ethan's aggression.

Pain lanced through her, both physical and emotional, as the clash continued. The armory, once a bastion of protection, now witnessed the unraveling of familial bonds. Y/N's attempts to protect Cassandra ended in her own injury, the searing pain a visceral manifestation of the sacrifices made in the name of love.

In the midst of the struggle, Ethan, driven by a relentless determination, succeeded in breaking open a section of the castle wall. The frigid air rushed in, a harbinger of doom reminiscent of the winter's frost that claimed Bela and Cassandra's sister. Cassandra, weakened by the biting cold, succumbed to the same icy fate.

Y/N, her gaze fixed on Cassandra's crystallized form, felt the cold tendrils of grief tighten around her heart. Another daughter, full of strength and vitality, stolen away by the merciless hand of death. The echoes of Cassandra's struggle faded into the haunting silence of a life extinguished too soon, leaving Y/N to confront the suffocating void that now enveloped her.

Cassandra, in her final moments, summoned a defiant declaration that would etch itself into Y/N's shattered soul. "You won't escape. You're my prey," she declared, a testament to the unyielding spirit that defined their familial bond even in the face of tragedy.

Ethan, satisfied with his ruthless victory, departed, leaving Y/N alone in the cold, lifeless armory. In the depths of her grief, Y/N shapeshifted back into her normal form and approached Cassandra's crystallized remains. The air hung heavy with sorrow as Y/N gently touched the frozen surface, a futile attempt to convey love and warmth to a daughter now lost to the cruel embrace of eternity.

"Cassandra, my fierce, brave girl," Y/N whispered, her voice a fragile melody in the emptiness of the armory. Tears flowed freely as she cradled the crystallized form, the icy surface serving as a bitter reminder of the warmth that had been stolen away. In that moment, the castle seemed to echo with the haunting wails of a mother's grief, a sorrow that transcended the confines of stone walls and reverberated through the desolate corridors of their fractured family.

The library, once a sanctuary of familial joy, now stood as a silent witness to the unraveling tragedy that had befallen the Dimitrescu family. Y/N, heart heavy with grief, returned seeking solace, only to find that the tendrils of despair had reached even the sanctity of their haven.

Daniela, the youngest and the last flicker of hope, stood at the entrance, a determination etched across her delicate features. In the dim light, Y/N could see the spark of vengeance in her eyes as she pursued Ethan, the intruder who had stolen the warmth from their family.

With a frantic urgency, Y/N rushed after Daniela, the echoes of their footsteps resonating through the corridors like a somber drumbeat. As they approached the confrontation, the air thickened with tension, a palpable manifestation of the impending tragedy.

Ethan, sensing the pursuit, reached a lever that controlled the castle's roof. With a cold determination, he pulled it, the mechanisms groaning as the roof began to open. The moonlight spilled into the room, casting an eerie glow over the impending confrontation.

In a swift and calculated move, Y/N shapeshifted into the black panther, a creature of darkness and ferocity, and leaped at Ethan, a desperate attempt to protect her last remaining daughter. The clash of forces echoed through the library as Y/N fought to shield Daniela from the looming threat.

The battle between Ethan and Y/N raged on, each blow a painful reminder of the losses suffered. Yet, in the cruel ebb and flow of the confrontation, Ethan managed to subdue Y/N, leaving her weakened and helpless. With a sinister grin, he turned his attention to Daniela, a defenseless prey caught in the cruel machinations of fate.

Y/N, injured and restrained, watched in helpless horror as Ethan approached Daniela. The air turned colder, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow on the scene. Daniela, the last vestige of their once vibrant family, pleaded for mercy, her voice a fragile melody of desperation.

"I don't want to die," Daniela whimpered, her eyes wide with fear as the frost of impending doom gripped her. Y/N, unable to shield her daughter from the inevitable, felt the weight of despair settle like a heavy shroud.

Ethan, unmoved by the plea, carried out the final act of cruelty. Daniela's form slowly crystallized, the frost enveloping her in an icy embrace. In the deafening silence that followed, Y/N's heart shattered into irreparable fragments. The library, once filled with laughter and warmth, now echoed with the haunting stillness of a mother's grief.

As Ethan fled the scene once again, leaving behind a trail of shattered lives, Y/N, battered and broken, made her way to Daniela's crystallized form. The moonlight cast a melancholic glow on the frozen figure as Y/N spoke in a voice choked with sorrow.

"I've lost all of my girls," Y/N whispered, the words carrying the weight of a thousand tears. "In a matter of minutes, everything changed. I couldn't protect any of you."

The library, a silent witness to the tragedy, held the remnants of a family that had been torn apart in the span of a night.

The castle, once a haven of love and laughter, now stood as a desolate monument to tragedy. Y/N, bearing the scars of a shattered soul, sought Alcina, only to discover that her beloved had morphed into her formidable mutated form. The weight of despair pressed upon Y/N's heart as she ascended to the castle roof, compelled to witness the unfolding calamity.

The scene that greeted her was one of chaos and sorrow. Alcina, in her mutated magnificence, clashed with Ethan Winters, the intruder who had become the harbinger of their destruction. The moon hung heavy in the night sky, casting an eerie glow over the impending battle.

The clash between Alcina and Ethan felt eternal to Y/N, each blow resonating through the depths of her heart. The castle roof became a silent theater of agony, the air thick with the unspoken fear that their family's fate hung in the balance.

As the battle reached its crescendo, Ethan, relentless in his pursuit, gained the upper hand. Y/N, helpless in her distant observation, felt the tightening noose of despair. In a final act of cruelty, Ethan fired a bullet that found its mark in Alcina's majestic form. The once indomitable matriarch plummeted from the sky, a tragic descent that mirrored the crumbling of Y/N's world.

Heart pounding, Y/N ran to the spot where Alcina's body lay, a crystallized testament to the brutality of their assailant. The air was charged with grief as Ethan, having claimed victory, departed into the night. Y/N's eyes, swollen with tears, traced the crystalline outline of Alcina, her once powerful presence now reduced to a cold, lifeless sculpture.

Amidst the crystalline stillness, Y/N's trembling voice broke the oppressive silence. Kneeling beside Alcina's frozen form, she whispered words of heartache as if the cold sculpture could still hear her.

"Alcina," Y/N's voice quivered with a mixture of sorrow and longing. "I never imagined a world without you. How do I go on when everything that matterd crumbled around me?" Her fingers traced the icy contours of Alcina's face, a futile attempt to bridge the gap between the living and the crystallized memory.

Tears blurred Y/N's vision as she continued to pour her grief into the empty air. "Our daughters, Alcina, were the light of our lives. Now, they're gone, and I'm left here alone, surrounded by the remnants of a love that once bloomed so beautifully."

The castle, usually a grand and imposing structure, felt like a tomb encasing Y/N's agony. Her words hung in the air, carried away by the chill wind, a lament for a family torn asunder. The moon, a silent observer to the tragedy, cast its indifferent light on the broken tableau.

Y/N's hand rested on Alcina's crystallized heart, a futile hope that warmth might return to the lifeless form. "I don't know how to bear this emptiness, Alcina. I keep waiting for you to open your eyes, to tell me that this is just a nightmare. But the silence mocks me, and I'm left here drowning in the echoes of our shattered dreams."

The pain etched on Y/N's face deepened as she spoke, her words a raw confession of the unbearable loss she now carried. "I failed to protect them, Alcina. I failed you. And now, I'm left with nothing but the remnants of a love story that ended in tragedy."

As Y/N's sobs echoed through the desolate castle, a haunting answer resonated in the silent chambers—a love story, once vibrant and enduring, now reduced to the fragile threads of memories and frozen tears. The moon cast its indifferent glow over the scene, a celestial witness to the unraveling of a once-majestic love, now entombed in the cold embrace of crystallized despair.

The castle, now draped in the shadows of desolation, echoed with the haunting symphony of Y/N's grief. Alone amidst the crystallized remnants of her family, she felt the weight of sorrow crushing her spirit. The air, once vibrant with love, now hung heavy with the scent of despair.

Kneeling beside Alcina's frozen form, Y/N's tear-streaked face pleaded with the lifeless sculpture. "Alcina, my love, I don't know how to live in a world without you and our daughters. The emptiness is suffocating, and I can't bear the echoes of our shattered dreams."

The moon, a silent witness to her torment, cast an indifferent glow on the castle roof. In the oppressive silence, Y/N's decision crystallized—a desperate resolve born from the unbearable weight of grief.

She ascended to the roof, each step heavier than the last, as if the castle itself conspired to anchor her to the agony below. The cold wind whispered through the stone corridors, carrying with it the final lament of a soul pushed to the brink.

Alone on the desolate roof, Y/N gazed into the abyss below, the depths mirroring the void in her heart. She spoke, her voice a broken whisper carried away by the night. "Alcina, I hope you find peace wherever you are. I can't bear to live in a world without you and our precious daughters. I hope... I hope I see you again."

With those words, Y/N stepped to the edge, the precipice of her despair. The moonlight cast a mournful glow on her tear-streaked face as she looked into the abyss below. The chilling wind seemed to echo the finality of her decision.

A silent plea escaped her lips, a desperate hope that she might find the family she had lost. "I'm sorry," she whispered to Alcina, as if seeking forgiveness for what she was about to do.

In that moment, the castle, once a sanctuary of love, bore witness to the heartbreaking choice of a shattered soul. Y/N, her heart consumed by grief, let herself fall into the void below. The cold night swallowed her, and as she descended, she felt a fleeting sense of weightlessness—the burden of loss momentarily lifted.

But in that fleeting moment, regret mingled with the wind, and the abyss claimed her, leaving the castle roof as empty and desolate as the shattered remains of a once-beautiful family. The moon, still indifferent, cast its light on the vacant space, a witness to the tragedy that unfolded in the shadows of a once-grand castle.

In the surreal embrace of the afterlife, Y/N found herself in a realm that transcended the boundaries of the living. As she opened her eyes to an ethereal landscape, a gentle calm washed over her, replacing the oppressive weight of grief with an unfamiliar tranquility.

Walking through the otherworldly expanse, Y/N felt an indescribable sense of serenity. The air seemed to echo with the whispers of departed souls, and the surroundings bore a dreamlike quality. In the distance, she spotted familiar figures, and as she drew closer, her heart skipped a beat.

Bela, Daniela, and Cassandra, radiant and full of life, stood together as if untouched by the events of that fateful night. The warmth of their smiles mirrored the love that once defined their family. In an instant, Y/N's eyes welled with tears, and she felt an overwhelming surge of emotion.

Daniela, the first to notice her presence, turned with a gleeful exclamation. "Mamă!" A sweet melody that echoed with the joy of reunion. In a heartbeat, Daniela was followed by Bela and Cassandra, their laughter filling the air.

They enveloped Y/N in a joyous embrace, their presence a balm to the wounds of her grieving soul. The afterlife had bestowed upon them the essence of their former selves—their laughter, their warmth, and the unwavering love that had defined their familial bonds.

Tears streamed down Y/N's face as she held them close, the echoes of their laughter weaving a tapestry of solace around her. "My darlings," Y/N whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I'm so happy to see you again. I've missed you more than words can express."

The girls, their eyes reflecting the purity of love, responded in unison, "We missed you too, Mamă."

In that ephemeral moment, the boundaries between grief and joy blurred. Y/N, surrounded by the embrace of her daughters, felt a profound sense of peace. "I'm so sorry," she confessed, the weight of guilt resurfacing. "I couldn't protect you. I failed you."

Bela, the eldest, touched Y/N's cheek with a gentle hand. "Mamă, there's nothing to be sorry for. We know you loved us with all your heart. That's all that matters."

Y/N's heart swelled with a mixture of gratitude and remorse. As they stood together, the wounds of the past night seemed to fade into insignificance. The girls, resilient in their love, reassured Y/N with their unwavering presence.

Y/N's heart fluttered with a mixture of joy and trepidation as she caught sight of Alcina in the distance. The reunion felt like a dream, yet the warmth that surged through her was undeniably real. Alcina, adorned in her regal grace, turned to face Y/N, and a flicker of surprise crossed her features.

The girls, sensing the need for a private moment, gracefully stepped away, leaving Y/N and Alcina alone in the otherworldly expanse. Y/N, overwhelmed by emotions, ran towards Alcina, and the moment their eyes met, the world seemed to fade into the background. Alcina's gaze held a mixture of astonishment and adoration as Y/N wrapped her arms around her.

For a moment, they simply held each other, the ethereal landscape bearing witness to a love that defied the boundaries of life and death. Alcina, her voice a soft whisper, uttered Y/N's name like a sacred hymn, "Dragă mea."

Y/N, feeling the familiar touch of Alcina's fingers gently caressing her cheek, looked into those familiar, mesmerizing eyes. Time seemed to stand still as Alcina, overcome with emotion, leaned in and kissed her with a tenderness that spoke of a thousand unspoken words.

Breaking the kiss, Alcina, her eyes searching Y/N's, questioned with a gentle urgency, "What did you do, my love?"

Y/N's gaze fell, the weight of her actions bearing down on her. She hesitated, reluctant to share the painful truth. Alcina, sensing her distress, gently guided Y/N's face to meet her gaze again. "Tell me, Dragă mea. What did you do?"

With a heavy sigh, Y/N admitted, "I did what was necessary."

Alcina, a furrow forming on her brow, persisted. "What do you mean, 'necessary'? What have you done?"

Y/N, her eyes clouded with sorrow, finally spoke the painful truth. "I did what I had to do to be with all of you again."

Alcina's eyes widened with realization, and she asked with a sinking dread, "You didn’t...?" She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.

Y/N nodded, the weight of her confession hanging in the air. "Yes, Alcina. I couldn't bear the grief. I saw our daughters die, and I saw you fall. I couldn't find a reason to keep going without all of you."

Alcina's expression shifted from realization to profound sadness. She cupped Y/N's face, a mixture of love and sorrow in her eyes. "Dragă mea, you didn't have to do that. We could have found a way to be together again."

Y/N shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "I couldn't endure the pain, Alcina. I needed to be with you all, even if it meant sacrificing myself."

Alcina, holding Y/N close, whispered words of solace. "Dragă mea, our love is eternal. You didn't need to go to such lengths. Now, we're together, but at what cost?"

"In my heart, Alcina," Y/N said, her voice filled with a quiet resolution, "I wouldn't have changed a thing. The pain was unbearable, but the thought of an eternity without you and our daughters was even more excruciating. I'd make the same choice again, even knowing the price."

Alcina, her eyes reflecting the melancholy of their circumstances, held Y/N tighter. A realm of both reunion and reckoning, became the stage for a love story that defied the limitations of time and mortality. In the embrace of eternity, Y/N and Alcina navigated the delicate dance between joy and sorrow, their hearts entwined in a bittersweet symphony that echoed through the ethereal expanse.

"I wish you hadn't felt you had to bear such a burden alone, Dragă mea," Alcina whispered, her voice a soft lament. "We could have faced the challenges together, found another way."

Y/N, tears glistening in her eyes, met Alcina's gaze. "Alcina, the pain was consuming me. I couldn't fathom a future without all of you. The grief, the guilt—I needed to escape it."

Alcina, understanding the depths of Y/N's torment, kissed her forehead gently. "But at what cost, my love? Our eternity together marred by the sacrifice you made."

Y/N's voice wavered with emotion. "I thought the pain would end if I could be with you again. I was wrong, Alcina. The pain lingers, but at least I have you now."

Alcina's eyes bore the weight of shared sorrow as she spoke, "Dragă mea, our love is eternal, but the wounds you carry... I wish I could have spared you from this pain."

Y/N nodded, her tears falling freely. "Alcina, I would endure a thousand lifetimes of pain to be with you and our daughters. The love we share transcends everything, even the darkness that brought us here."

Alcina, caressing Y/N's cheek, spoke with a tenderness that echoed through them. "My love, you mean everything to me. I would traverse the realms of existence to be with you, to shield you from the burdens you carried alone."

Y/N, leaning into Alcina's touch, whispered, "And I would find a way back to you, no matter the obstacles. Our love is a force that defies the boundaries of time and space."

Alcina's eyes shimmered with unspoken affection. "Dragă mea, you are my eternal flame. No matter the trials we face, we will endure them together."

In the embrace of paradise, where love transcended the boundaries of time and mortality, the familial reunion continued to unfold. As Y/N and Alcina exchanged tender words, the ethereal landscape witnessed the return of the three beloved figures who had once again become an inseparable part of their shared eternity.

Bela, Daniela, and Cassandra approached with an otherworldly grace, their eyes reflecting the joy of being reunited with their parents. In a scene that mirrored the warmth of their past family gatherings, they enveloped Y/N and Alcina in a circle of love.

Y/N, overwhelmed with emotion, gently reached out to hold Bela and Daniela close, one in each arm. The girls, in turn, pressed themselves against Y/N, a collective hug that transcended the physical and embraced the boundless depths of their connection.

Alcina, standing beside Y/N, extended her arms to encircle both Y/N and Cassandra. The afterlife became a tableau of familial love—a tapestry woven with the threads of joy, sorrow, and an eternal bond that defied the passage of time.

In the tender embrace, Y/N kissed the heads of Bela and Daniela, their presence a balm to the wounds she once thought were irreparable. The soft murmur of love filled the air as Y/N spoke, her voice carrying the weight of their shared journey.

"I never thought I'd hold you both like this again," Y/N whispered, her eyes glistening with tears of gratitude. "I missed you more than words can say."

Bela and Daniela, in the comforting embrace of their parents, felt the warmth of love that transcended the trials they had faced. A sanctuary for their eternal reunion, echoed with the melodies of a family made whole once more.

Turning to Alcina and Cassandra, Y/N continued, "And you, my loves, are the pillars of my existence. I promised myself that I'd never let you go again. We're a family, bound by a love that defies even the boundaries of life and death."

Alcina, holding Y/N and Cassandra close, spoke with a solemn tenderness, "Our family is eternal, and nothing can tear us apart. We've faced the darkness, and now, we embrace the light of our enduring love."

The Dimitrescu family shared a moment of profound unity. Y/N, surrounded by the warmth of her daughters and Alcina, felt the echoes of grief dissipate, replaced by the timeless embrace of love. The afterlife, once a realm of solitude, had become a haven for their eternal reunion—a sanctuary where the threads of familial love were woven into the very fabric of existence.

[rhaenyratargayen]

started watching hotd partially because of you and.. my word... those girlies are so in love

I’m so honored that I turned you onto these tragic divorced lesbians 🫶🏻

[zeltqz]

call me or not, it's up to you.

☰ — synopsis : you come back home after a night out and see you accidentally posted your private stories public, and received a drunk lengthy voicemail from your ex, ran.

☰ — pairing : haitani ran x fem!reader ☰ — length : 2.4k words ☰ — contents : nsfw and 18+ contents, mentions of violence (sanzu being sanzu), slight phone sex; they don't directly communicate, ran being mildly toxic and messing with your emotions, teeny itsy bitsy drops of gaslighting ☰ — notes : i literally suck at writing toxic characters so im SORRY if this is literal ass, (im trying my hardestttt) i just had a dream about this and had to execute it as best as i could lol

It was a regular Thursday night when you stumbled into your date’s house, struggling to walk with half a heel working. 

“Let’s get you out of these.” He knelt before you and helped you unbuckle your heels and you sighed in relief when he slipped them both off. 

“Remind me to never wear heels again,” you giggled, clutching onto him. He leaned down and kissed you. You hummed, still feeling the buzz from the alcohol earlier and wrap your arms around his waist, kissing him back. “I had fun tonight.”

He cupped both your cheeks in his hands and peppering them with kisses, each of them making you giggle at the ticklish feeling. “Me too.” There was a final lingering kiss before he pulled away. “Let’s get you ready for bed, alright?” He traced your cheekbones with his finger, and you smiled up at him, nuzzling your cheek against his hand.

“Okay.” He helped you up the stairs and you collapsed onto his bed, your dress riding up your thighs as you laid there, clutching at his soft sheets.

“I’m gonna shower first, alright babe?” He said in the process of removing his shirt. “Wanna join me?”

You shook your head, eyes threatening to close shut as you nuzzled his pillow. “I’m alright. You go first.”

He bit his lip, admiring you splayed out on the sheets for a moment, his mind racing with all the things he could do you tonight if you’d join him in the shower. But of course his fantasies only stay in his head since you’ve been rejecting every single one of his advances for the last three months. It’s always the same excuses : you’re not in the mood, or you’re too tired. 

He sighed. “You sure babe?”

You’re half asleep at this point, just barely conscious as you murmur, “‘m sure.” His tongue poked his cheek and he nodded, saying nothing else and heading inside the bathroom. 

You vaguely hear the shower turn on and about to enter a deep sleep when your phone buzzes.

@/shibayuzuha : oh my god who is this man u’re with on ur story? He is CUTE!!

@/hina_tachibana : was this supposed to be posted on your main? 😢

“What story?” you muttered, rubbing your eyes and sitting up. You click  through your instagram story and rewatch the story you posted a few hours earlier when you were at the club. They were all videos of you and Masato dancing together, kissing, taking shots. Honestly you were buzzed the entire night and you thought you posted them on your private account, much less your close friends. “Oh fuck.”

You went to delete all the stories but the damage was already done, over 300 people already saw it. Oh well. That’s tomorrow’s problem. 

You lay back down, eyelids blinking slowly as you fight back sleep and check your missed phone calls you accidentally ignored. That’s when you see it. A voicemail from Haitani Ran. Any ounce of sleep in your body vanished the moment you sat up quickly, rubbing your eyes checking if you saw correctly.

It was over five minutes long and part of you wanted to delete it, but at this moment, you couldn’t help but be curious. You pressed play and put the phone up to your ear.

“Hey. It’s me. Hope I’m not blocked or whatever, I know how petty you can get.” He chuckled to himself and the deep rumble of it took you back to all those months ago when you’d be laying beside him, head on his chest and just listen to the sound of his heartbeat as he spoke on the phone.

There was a deep inhale and the familiar crackle of him smoking that always used to relax you. “Saw your story by the way. Is that your new boy toy? Two of you look good together.” He exhaled and his voice was kinda slurred. “Kinda glad you moved on though. Thought you’d never get over me to be honest.”

“Oh fuck off,” you mumbled. He was still as full of himself as he was when you both ended things almost a year ago. If this was a regular phone call you would’ve hung up or told him he’s not that special, but you looked down and still saw another six minutes left. What the fuck else could he possibly have to say to you?

He chuckled again, and it was so obvious he was drunk now, which surprised you as he was a heavy weight and in your three years of dating you saw him get drunk only twice. 

“You looked so fucking sexy in that dress, baby.” His groan had you squeezing your thighs together. “I can tell by the way he was holding you in those fucking videos he can’t handle you the way I can. He hasn’t fucked you yet, has he? Bet he’s real gentle and sweet with you not knowing you like it deep, and rough. Fuck, man.” He exhaled, rubbing his palm on his face. “Wanna know what I’d do if I was there with you baby?”

“...yes,” you whispered weakly to yourself. It was pointless; he couldn’t hear you and yet you were responding like he could. Blame it on the alcohol but there was nothing you wanted more than Ran right now.

“Bet you do. I’ll humour you though. I’ll take you to the dance floor and run my hands all over that body of yours, force that pretty head of yours back so I can mark all over your neck. Get you so hot and bothered till you’re begging me to fuck you. That happened one time didn’t it? Remember that one night in the club? I had my hands all over you and you dared me to flip your skirt up and fuck you right there. Man, you were such a tease, and a fucking sadist too. Remember when you said you wanted to watch some schmuck clean up my cum from the floor?”

You giggled and bit your lip, teasing your hands down your stomach. You remembered that night perfectly. Ran changed you when you were dating. You don’t even recognise yourself right now because everything just felt right when you were with him. Those years with him were the best of your life, you were young and figuring shit out. You’re still young and figuring shit out, but without him you’re taking a little longer to come to the conclusion of certain things.

Ran had his ups and downs. He was far from the perfect boyfriend, and he knew that. That’s why he was so surprised when you stayed for all those years despite his flaws. He was emotionally unavailable and never spoke about anything concerning him. He was sometimes rude and blunt when pissed off, and the arguments you both would get into would end up in the two of you ignoring each other for weeks. At first you’d be the one to break the silence and show up to his house and just hug him. He’d always smell like cigarettes and it should’ve disgusted you yet you couldn’t help but feel comfort. The smell was strong and yet it never bothered you when you smelt it on him. You’d apologise, crying in his arms as he embraced you back, rubbing up and down your back as you vented it all out in his chest, wetting his shirt with your tears. If he had people over he’d tell them to get the fuck out, hiding your face in his chest until the door closed.

That was the usual routine until the arguments got worst and your pride grew stronger and you’d refuse to talk to him  until he broke it first. He didn’t believe you at first but after a month of no contact he finally broke it first. Since then, he was always the one apologising first, showing up to your house in the middle of the night at random hours to tell you he’s sorry and didn’t mean what he’d said. 

The ups were better than the downs in the relationship. He’d teach you things, he always made you feel good, and simply being next to him was enough to make your entire week, even if it's for a few hours. He made you feel like the only girl in the world, like the most special girl to exist, and he helped boost your confidence by buying you nice things like clothes, accessories, lingerie, and tell you to look at yourself in the mirror and watch as he worships your body, taking his time to kiss his way down your stomach and thighs, and once he got to your pussy he swore  he could eat you out for hours, just until your thighs were shaking around him.

The memory of his tongue between your legs had your back arching off the bed clutching the phone tighter to your ear as you squeezed a hand between your legs, playing with yourself as he talked you through it over the phone.

“Bet you’re touching yourself right now,” he exhaled shakily. “If you’re not, you better start. Want you to remember how well I fucked you every time. Can you do that for me baby?”

“Mmhmm.” Thankfully Masato takes decades in the shower so you didn’t have to worry about him walking in or hearing. Not like you would’ve cared honestly. He’s not Ran, and he won’t ever be.

“Miss you being my good girl. Fuck. He doesn’t deserve to have his hands all over you. Should send Sanzu over and fuck, get him to cut all his fucking fingers off for touching you like that. Man, I bet that idiot doesn’t know that I fucked you in that same dress you know? That’s what got me so damn bothered right now. Wearing the shit I bought you to go fuck around?”

“‘M sorry,” you whimper, parting your folds and slipping as many fingers as you could fit inside without hurting yourself. No matter whatever you shove inside there, it never feels as good as Ran’s fingers, or tongue, or cock. “Need you so bad Ran.”

“Man, wanna hear how you sound right now. Bet you sound so sweet, like usual. Could you do something for me?” You nodded and stopped your fingers movements, listening to his next words.

“Call me again. I miss you so much it’s crazy. Got so much to talk to you about. It’s been how long? Couple months since I last heard from you. And I know you don’t hate me. You never could. That’s something I love about you. Always there for me when I need you. We both took each other for granted, you know? Deny it all you want but you did. And that’s okay. But I wanted to let you know if you ever come back into my life, I’m not letting you go. For real, not making that mistake again. I dunno why I called you tonight honestly, just drank a lot and now I fucking miss you. Call me or not, it’s up to you.”

Then he said the words that made your heart nearly stop and freeze over in your chest. “I love you.” 

Before you could even say it back the voicemail ended, leaving you conflicted.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗛𝗢𝗖𝗞𝗘𝗬 𝗗𝗥𝗔𝗠𝗔

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N is a hockey player of the Boston High-school hockey team, and during one of her games, her temper is tested by her opponent while her boyfriend, Matt, is watching.

WARNING: Physical fighting, blood, bruises.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N adjusted the straps of her helmet and took one last look around the locker room. The muffled noise of the crowd, which already filled the gym, pulsed through the walls. The tension in the air was palpable. This game wasn't just another game of the season; it was the decisive game that would define the regional champion. And for Y/N, there was an extra motivation: Matt. Her boyfriend was in the audience, and she wanted more than ever to impress him with her performance.

While sliding across the ice during warm-ups, Y/N observed the opposing team, known for its physical and aggressive play, looked more determined than ever. Among them, one player in particular stood out: Lilian. Tall, robust, and with a look that exuded competitiveness, Lilian had a reputation for being ruthless. Y/N knew she would have to pay attention to her throughout the game.

The opening whistle sounded, and the game began with frenetic intensity. Y/N moved with agility, looking for gaps in the opponent's defense. Every pass, every deflection, was meticulously calculated.

And it didn't take long for her to find an opportunity.

With a quick sprint, Y/N escaped to the right, receiving a precise pass from her teammate and, with an elegant movement of her stick, sent the puck directly into the corner of the net.

The electric sound of the puck hitting the net was followed by a roar from the crowd. Matt, who was sitting in the center bleachers, jumped to his feet, cheering and shouting her name, a huge smile taking over his face as his hands grabbed the front of his brothers' hoodies, shaking their upper bodies with euphoria.

Y/N's confidence was high, but the game was far from won. The opposing team increased the pressure, and Lilian, especially, seemed to have fixed Y/N as her main target.

In one of the most critical moves, Lilian came forward with force, bumping into Y/N with an intensity that bordered on brutality. Y/N managed to stay upright but felt the impact reverberate through her bones.

She returned Lilian's gaze with firm determination. She would not allow herself to be intimidated.

The minutes passed, and the game became increasingly fierce. Y/N was determined to score another goal. Her ears seemed to constantly search for the loud and firm comments of encouragement that escaped her boyfriend's lips, drawing strength from there. With a combination of speed and precision, she advanced towards the opponent's goal again.

But Lilian was there, and this time, she wasn't willing to allow Y/N to pass. In a split second, Lilian collided violently against Y/N, knocking her onto the ice. The impact was so strong that Y/N felt the air leave her lungs, her hands quickly letting go of the stick and gluing to her chest covered by heavy clothes, trying desperately to take a long breath.

The referee blew the whistle, signaling a penalty, but the damage was already done.

With anger boiling inside her, Y/N stood up with difficulty, breathing harshly. She felt humiliated and enraged. Without thinking twice, the girl skated towards the locker room, ignoring the screams of her teammates and her coach, who called for her, cutting through the silence that had settled in the gym after the incident.

The door closed behind her back, muffling the sound of the crowd and the frenzy of the game, echoing like a dull thud throughout the space. In the silence of the locker room, Y/N took a deep breath, trying to control the storm of emotions that was stirring inside her.

She sat down on the main bench, removing her helmet and running her hands through her sweat-damp hair. Anger burned through her veins, not just because of Lilian's aggression, but because of the frustration of feeling like she was letting down her team and, especially, Matt. He had come to watch her play, and all she wanted was to put on a spectacular show for him.

Tears began to form, but Y/N took another deep breath, refusing to let them fall. She wouldn't give in.

The girl closed her eyes tightly, trying to center herself, but as she did so, a stab of pain appeared above her eye. A wince scaped her lips as she touched the painful area, noticing something warm and wet on her fingers. Raising them to her eye level, she saw blood.

The anger, which was already intense, intensified even more. The girl felt her blood boiling as her hands shook with hatred. The sight of blood dripping from her eyebrow was the trigger that was needed for her uncontrolled fury.

Without thinking twice, Y/N put the helmet back on harshly, ignoring the pain. She wouldn't let Lilian get away with that. Y/N got out of the locker room with firm slides, determined to show that no one would take her down without consequences.

Back on the ice, Y/N felt a new surge of energy, this time fueled by anger and the need for revenge. Her eyes were fixed on Lilian, who didn't seem to expect her to return so soon. With impressive speed, Y/N skated directly towards her opponent, leaving her coach's questions behind.

When the distance between them closed, Y/N kept going, hitting her shoulder against the other girl with all the strength she had. The impact threw Lilian to the ground, who fell onto her back, surprised and in pain, a loud cry scream echoing afterward.

The referee blew his whistle frantically, but Y/N ignored his and Lilian's screams. Her focus was absolute.

She took the puck from one of the opposing players with surprising dexterity and began advancing towards the goal. Every movement was fierce, precise. She was in a state of flux, where nothing else mattered other than the next goal.

With impressive skill, Y/N scored one after another. The crowd was in a frenzy, and the energy in the gym was electric. Matt, in the bleachers, watched everything with wide eyes, his screams standing out among the crowd. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Y/N was playing like never before, in a way he himself had never witnessed.

With each goal, Y/N felt increasing satisfaction. She was showing everyone – her team, her opponents, the watchers, and especially Lilian – that she was really good. Blood was still running from her eyebrow, dripping onto her lips held by the mouth guard, the metallic taste flooding her tongue.

When the final whistle sounded, declaring her team's victory, Y/N felt a wave of relief flood her body. She dropped the stick on the ice floor and ripped off her helmet, taking her mouth guard off of her lips, finally breathing properly, her eyes darting around the gym as euphoria took over her body, adrenaline rushing through her veins like lightning.

It was at that moment that she saw Matt jump over the railing that separated the bleachers from the ice. The brunette ran towards her, slipping slightly on the ice, a consequence of his inappropriate sneakers, leaving behind the screams of his brothers who tried to dissuade him.

She felt her heart speed up even more, wetting her lips in anticipation.

When Matt finally reached Y/N, he quickly threw himself in front of her, raising his arms and cupping his girl's face with both hands firmly, his gaze filled with concern and love. His blue eyes scanned the cut on her eyebrow, trying to wipe away the blood on her skin with trembling fingers.

"Y/N, baby, are you okay? You're bleeding so much. Let me see this..."

Y/N, still breathing heavily, felt a wave of emotions wash over her. Before Matt could continue, she cut him off with a passionate kiss, wrapping her hands around his thick hoodie-covered waist and pulling him closer, the significant height that her skateboards provided her aiding her in her action.

It was a kiss full of intensity, relief, and love.

Matt sighed deeply, the hot air hitting the girl's cold face, causing the blush in the area to intensify, feeling enveloped by the passion and strength that emanated from her.

When they finally separated, Matt hugged her tightly, his body shaking slightly with the adrenaline that took his body along with his heart racing at a thousand miles per hour. His large hands hugged her head against his own right shoulder, his fingers stroking her tied hair gently.

"I'm so proud of you, Y/N. You were amazing. I've never seen anyone play like you played today. You were so strong, so brave..." Y/N smiled against his covered skin, feeling his hushed words warm her heart.

"It was all for you, babe. Every goal-"

"Y/N!" The coach shouted, approaching with quick, steady steps, his ice-appropriate sneakers keeping him upright. "What in God's name was that? This is a hockey game. What, are you trying out for the gymnastics team? If you do that again, you'll be out!"

Matt watched him with wide eyes, his lips pressed into a thin line in an attempt to hold back his laughter.

"Sorry, coach. I just did what I had to do." Y/N rolled her eyes, letting out a breathless laugh.

The coach shook his head, opening an almost imperceptible smile.

"You played with your heart today, kid. Just try to keep a little more control next time, okay? We don't want you to miss big opportunities."

"You got it, coach." Y/N nodded quickly, Matt's arms still holding her tightly, one arm grasping firmly around her waist, keeping her close.

"Now take her to the infirmary, boy." The coach approached, casting a glance toward Matt while patting her right shoulder.

"Yes, sir, I'll take care of her."

"You better."

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[jacoblovesyou]

@stripesysheaven i think this is right up your alley!

Do you have any headcanons on what Ben's last words might have been before he died? (Kind of a morbid question, but famous last words have always intrigued me.)

Hello there, anon. Thanks for this question. First of all because whenever I get (anon) asks about Ben headcanons it makes me super happy. I just joined this fandom a few weeks ago and already people ask me of my opinion and stuff, it’s amazing! And your question triggered a little mini-fic idea so this is what happened on Ben’s last day:

“Here he is.” Hurley said and placed the little bunny on Ben’s chest.

“Thank you, Hugo!” Ben said and started coughing. He tried to suppress it, so he wouldn’t scare the bunny. Eventually it calmed him and made him forget about the pain when he looked at the little wiggling nose and let his fingers run through the white fur of his fluffy friend.Hurley sat down next to Ben to check on him but he was getting older and weaker by the minute. Hurley could have helped but Ben didn’t want him to. He wanted to die.When it was finally time for him to leave this place he turned to Hurley with the last strength he had and said “Will I be with them?”Hurley nodded. “I’m sure you will.”That’s all Ben needed to know to close his eyes forever with a smile on his face.

I don’t know if this is very good ‘last words’ headcanon but I just think he died of old age. And to let go of his body he needed to be sure that he’ll see them again. He needed to know he’ll see Alex again so he could make it right this time. He needed to know he’ll see John again so he could tell him how sorry he was.Of course Hurley could have done the thing Jacob did to Richard, make him basically immortal. Hurley offered, several times throughout their time on the island, but Ben always refused. There was nothing left for him in this world.

[vncannyvalleygrrl]

If you are still writing Smiling Friends stuff, can you please add your general/dating/nsfw headcanons for Allan Red? Thank you in advance!

sorry this was posted a bit late! but of course dear anon <3

Allan Red Headcanons

includes general, dating, and nsfw headcanons (mdni)

General

Has a Masters degree in engineering. He decided to work at Smiling Friends just as a way to make easy money during college, but he decided to make it his full time career after graduating. Mostly keeps track of stock and buying supplies, but he occasionally does smiling jobs when told to.

His brain is like a calculator, ask him any super hard math question and he will answer it in seconds. Charlie has done this several times to annoy him during slow days.

Has nerve damage from being crucified :(

Allan is very particular about cleanliness. His apartment is spotless and his hygiene is impeccable.

He has a few sensory issues. He hates things like the texture of certain foods, certain scents, and loud noises.

He is never late to anything, ever. Even if it's storming outside and 15 cars have crashed into each other, he will still arrive at work right on time. He isn't really sure how he does it either.

Isn't very good with some social cues. Struggles with other's personal space, having attitude, and emotions.

He has the worst back problems.

HatehateHATES the smell of alcohol and cigarettes. He was raised around smokers and drinkers, quickly growing to hate how the smells burnt his sensitive nose.

Allan is a huge history buff, especially regarding ancient human and critter civilizations. Originally wanted to be a historian, but he wanted to broaden his intellect.

Has once read the entire dictionary, front to back, because he was bored.

It's very hard for him to apologize for anything.

Dating Him

It'll take Allan awhile to come to terms with his crush. Sure, he has one-night-stands all the time, sexing up random women and men alike for the fun of it. He knows he's hot and can get away with it. But dating? This is new territory.

Before you started dating him, it was very apparent that something was up with him. His shoulders were tensed, talking with his jaw tight, you had never seen this much emotion from Allan before (even if it was discomfort.)

You're not sure how it happened, but one day he admitted his feelings to you. You could barely hear his confession because his teeth were clenched but he seemed to feel a lot better once it was over with.

Kind of iffy about physical intimacy. He's ok with hugs and simple hand holding, but he takes awhile to warm up to the idea of cuddling. When he eventually does though, his long, lanky limbs are wrapped around your legs, arms, anything he can get a hold on. Theres a 70% chance he will fall asleep on you.

He's good at baking pastries! His favorite thing to bake is anything sweet like cakes and brownies. Allan has a bit of a sweet-tooth, though he enjoys trying new foods in general despite having texture issues. If you know any cool recipes, especially from your own culture, he will gladly try anything you make.

In general, you just need to be patient with Allan if you plan on dating him. He's not used to committing to commitment.

Isn't the best with verbal communication, so he leaves notes around your house/apartment to remind you that he loves you.

Remembers every anniversary or special event for you.

Lowkey possessive. He won't go up to others and confront them if he sees them looking at you (he will if they're being an asshole about it), but he gives them the most wicked, obvious side-eye. Puts an arm around you for good measure.

🚨 NSFW 🚨

While he isn't used to dating, he is very familiar with sex. To him, dating is very confusing, bedding someone isn't.

If you don't know each other, he seems like the perfect lover. Starts off with warmup, dirty talk, teasing, the whole 9-yards. By the end of the warmup (which can last up to 20 minutes), you're practically frothing at the mouth to be screwed.

If you two are dating though, it's a different story. Make out sessions and actual sex don't happen until much later in the relationship, but it is worth the wait.

He follows your pace instead of his own, going as fast or slow as you need. He's much more concerned about your own pleasure than his when he actually cares about you.

Please ride his face. RIDE HIS FACE. Use his nose to hold onto him, his head to clench between your knees, he does not care.

Knows how to use his hands. His abnormally long fingers aren't just useful for grasping his beloved cheese.

Allan's voice is much more hoarse when he's thrusting himself into you. Enjoys being close and personal with your face when he's inside of you, it gives him the opportunity to kiss you or groan into your ear.

There's not much aftercare if it's just a one-night-stand, simply letting you do your own thing after he's came.

But if you're dating? You might as well be a royal. Need water? A shower? Just want some cuddles? He follows your every word. He's trying his best to show he cares without actually saying it.

Shower sex. SHOWER SEX.

[luimagines]

Yess request are open!? I'd wanna request a scenario where Reader gets comforted by Time, Life just has been shitty recently and I crave some comfort

I apologize in advance for how long this would take to come out. I hope things got better for you, my friend. <3

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

You sighed and stared at your reflection in the water below your feet. Your heart felt heavy and your shoulders were slumped. You had stepped away from the group to not ruin their good day with your sour mood.

It's not like they had anything to do with it.

It was just a bunch of little things that kept piling up and you hadn't been able to mentally or emotionally sort through them all until they were all short of crushing you.

You toe the water, watching the ripples move away from your disturbance. A little voice tells you that someone is no doubt to check up on you, but you're not sure if you'll be able t hold yourself back from snapping at them.

Just as soon as you thought it you can hear quiet footsteps come in your general direction. They're deliberate. Smooth but heavy.

It's Time.

You curse internally. He's the last person you want to address this. You don't think he'll take kindly to being snapped at and you respect him too much to want to risk any damage to your small and fragile friendship. You repeatedly chant for him to leave and send someone else in your head.

It can't be him. It can't be him. It can't be him.

"Hey." You greet him before you have the chance to cringe and cry. You're going to try and be normal. You're not going to take out your frustrations at him.

He sits next to you, letting his feet dangle into the water, much like you are. "Hey."

You feel like biting the inside of your cheek. Can't he just go away and let you mope in solitude?

"Do you want to talk about it?" He says softly. It's tender and soft, you would have missed it if there was literally any other noise around you.

Your breath hitches and tear finally pool in your eyes at the thought of release. You shake your head.

Time hums, not liking your answer but accepting it. You honestly thought he'd push more.

"Come here." He says instead, holding out his arm.

You hesitate but finds yourself crawling over and into the side hug. Time wraps his arm around you and holds you firmly into his side. He keeps his other arm behind him, putting most of his weight into that one instead of putting his whole force into crushing you against him.

The thought causes the first tears to escape out of you even as you try to stifle the sound that threatens to leave as well. Time rubs your shoulder in a comforting way, not saying anything as you finally let out all the emotions that you've been holding to yourself.

The Old Man says nothing and lets you cry until there's nothing let for you to shed. You feel raw and tired. You pull away from Time to see the massive wet splotch you've left on his shirt but he doesn't seem the least of bit bother by it.

"I'm sorry." You mutter. Your voice sounds weak even to your own ears. "...I got your shirt dirty."

"Soap and water exist." He mutters just as tenderly as before and brushes your hair out of your face. "Feel better?"

Do you?

You take a moment to take stock of your emotions. And the answer... is a little gray. "No." You answer. "But I'm tired now."

Time hums once more and pulls you back to his side. "We don't have to go back yet."

"Time?" You say, but then think better of it. "Link?"

"Yes?"

"...Thank you." It feels better to say that than to apologize again.

"You're welcome." He looks over to you and kisses your forehead. "Some days are harder than others. It's impressive how long you've been able to keep this to yourself."

"I didn't want to be mean to anyone when it was just a 'me problem'." You admit, feeling emotionally wrung out and ready for a nap. "Did I worry the others?"

"Yes." He doesn't try to sugar coat it. "But they're understanding boys. No one is going to hold it against you."

You nod and let yourself be held by him. "I'll be ok."

You're not sure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.

But he smiles and hugs you a little tighter.

"Yes, you will be."

[jasmine-tea-latte]

Me, out here ruining lives (affectionately) and giving readers an emotional crisis / causing chaos because we’re FINALLY at the Good part of the fic when all hell breaks loose:

"Idk what Ozai has planned but I swear to God, Agni, Tui AND La that I will fight whoever necessary" -Me in an AO3 comment section

[doberbutts]

Thank you for making the schindler post, it perfectly illustrates why I hate the way people will act like people who hurt others (like active nazis and racists) aren't capable of regular emotion and thought. Second chances are often seen as bad when it comes to violence and crime, but if you never give someone the chance to change, form different opinions, or see the damage they or their associates have caused, they'll just keep taking the path of least resistance, keep following orders. I just want people to take a serious look at a nazi who changed his mind. There is nothing inherently evil about anyone, there are only moral and immoral choices.

It helps, I think, to understand that he did not join the nazi party because he hated Jews. Even what research I did on the real man said that for the most part his reasons for siding with Hitler were purely economical. And, as I've said before, Hitler did not start with "I hate Jews let's kill them all" but with "look how bad the economy sucks! And who is doing well while the economy sucks? The Jews. That means they're the ones behind making the economy suck!" to get people on his side.

I think Schindler did have some internalized antisemitism. How could he not? He thought of the plan to use almost exclusively Jewish slave labor as good business sense. Cheaper than Poles, more desperate for the work and thus less likely to complain about conditions or quit, can't fuss about wanting wages or better hours, what's not to like? Supposedly his workers were treated well. I don't know if that makes it particularly better. I wonder how his workers felt, staring at the emblem proudly pinned to his jacket, knowing it stood for the extermination of their entire people.

I wonder if any of them ever considered it might be a trick. An elaborate long game to get them to trust and slip up. To get them to reveal the hiding places and secret messages and the others striving to find or make a way out.

I think the movie played with that concept a little bit, when the character of Stern (who apparently was 3 different real guys rolled into 1) is portrayed as always being a little standoffish and cold to Schindler until close to the very end. He was afraid of him. Schindler held not only his life but the lives of all of the people working there (plus more, irl) in his hands. He rubbed shoulders with high ranked officials and knew personally more than one known sadistic bastard that actively got off on murdering Jews. All it would take is a single word and it would be more than just those in the factory who died.

But then the ghetto was cleansed. In history, Schindler had advance warning and made his workers lock themselves in the factory overnight to spare them. In the movie, Schindler did not have warning, and saw the chaos from atop a vantage point as he'd meant to pass by.

Either way, both in life and in film, that was the line. He was, at minimum, willfully blind and passive to the evidence of what was happening up to that point. Once he couldn't deny it, he put his foot down and said, no more. I'm not doing this. I can't save everybody but you aren't getting your hands on anyone in my charge. Put me in jail if you have to. This is wrong.

He had everything to gain by continuing to look away. In the movie, Stern says something to the tune of "you'll have to hire Hungarians and Poles. They cost a little more but you'll still be rich" when they're both faced with Hitler's final solution. No more cheap Jewish labor when they're all dead, after all. It is at that point that they come up with the list- to get as many Jews as possible out of Germany before they're all sent to their deaths. He could have just said "yeah, sorry. I tried". Stern even more or less gave him permission to do so, like he was expecting it.

But he didn't. He said no fuck that, it's bullshit. It's not happening. I'm not letting it happen. They can arrest me or kill me if they want but if I'm alive for it I'm not just going to stand back and watch.

But I think it is difficult for people to grapple with that level of complexity. Not everyone he saved thinks he was overall a good person. His motives were not always pure. In fact many times his motives were just about lining his own pockets. But when he saw atrocities happen, he put his foot down and refused to participate. Even at his own cost- he had the equivalent amount of money back then as would be needed to retire early nowadays from his factory labor. He spent it on bribes and rations to keep them safe. He went to jail several times for refusing to back down. He risked his own neck by networking with other factory owners to get them to do the same. He could have been executed for this at any point. Nazis loved public spectacle executions for traitors and for collusion with Jews.

He wasn't a perfect ally. But I think I'd rather an imperfect ally do whatever they can to help, than no allies at all.

[kikyo-writes]

Reader with a memory loss condition, any character, hella angst 🙏

BAKUGOU KATSUKI | MEMORY LOSS

Katsuki thought he’d lost you for good. The sight of you covered in blood, eyes squeezed shut, and barely even breathing... it was almost too much to bear. If he couldn’t even protect the person he loved most, then how the fuck could he call himself a hero?  

But against all odds, you survived. The universe decided to have mercy this time, even though he’d failed to protect you. He’d fucked up, and the guilt would follow him forever, but at least he was being granted a second chance.  

Unfortunately, your life had come at no small price.  

“I have to warn you, Bakugou,” the doctor frowns. “She’s... different now. All of the healing and surgery have taken care of her life-threatening injuries, but she suffered severe head trauma, and it’s put her in a state of disorientation.”  

Katsuki clenches his jaw. “What are you trying to say? I know it’s gonna take her a while to recover. It’s not like I expect her to be up and running right away. As long as she’s safe—”  

“I’m referring to her brain. Well, more specifically, her memories. We did an initial screening, and it’s quite clear that she’s suffering from amnesia.” The doctor offers a sympathetic smile. “I just wanted you to know, so that you can prepare yourself.”  

“...oh.”  

Katsuki doesn’t know what else to say. Really, what can he say? You’re alive. That simple fact alone is worthy of celebration. He's just grateful that you’re still here, living and breathing. He doesn’t have to say goodbye to you. He’ll never, ever be ready to say goodbye to you.

“This is still a very early diagnosis,” the doctor reassures. “Following a traumatic event, some patients suffer memory loss for a few days, weeks, or in rarer cases, months, but it’s not guaranteed to be permanent. In fact, temporary amnesia is far more common. It just takes a while for the brain to repair itself.”  

“I get it,” Katsuki nods. Right. It’s all going to be fine. You’ve just come out of a life-threatening battle, so it’s no wonder if your mind is in disarray.  

There’s no need to panic. Katsuki loves you, and you love him.  

As long as you’re together, whatever it is, you’ll get through it.  

“If you’re ready, then you’re welcome to go see her now,” the doctor encourages.  

Katsuki doesn’t need to be told twice. He steps into the hospital room without sparing a breath, and sure enough, there you are. Sweet, lovely [Name]. The love of his life, all covered in bandages, but looking just as beautiful as always.  

Katsuki swallows his tears. He already cried his heart out when he first thought you were a goner, and he cried even more while you were in intensive care. There’s no point in crying anymore, not when you’re alive and well. Seeing him with a weak, broken expression won’t do you any good.  

For your sake, he needs to be strong.  

“[Name],” Katsuki mumbles. He walks over to your bedside and pulls out a chair so he can sit close. He isn’t normally much of a smiler, but being next to you like this—something he thought he’d never be able to do again—makes his lips curl up at the sides and tremble in relief.

You’re alive. Your injuries have been healed, for the most part, and there won’t be any lasting damage. There’s no reason why you won’t be able to keep enjoying life, just as you've done up until now.  

Overwhelmed with emotion and the desire to feel the warmth of your skin against his, Katsuki reaches out to grab your hand.  

You recoil immediately, and in that moment, Katsuki’s heart shatters.

“Sorry,” you swallow. “Um. I don’t... I don’t know who you are.”

He feels like he’s about to throw up. The doctor mentioned amnesia. He did mention amnesia. But... isn’t this way too extreme? This is like the kind of stuff that happens in movies, or when elderly patients are in the advanced stages of Alzheimer’s.  

You blink, searching his expression for a clue. “I’m sorry,” you frown. “I feel like I should know you. It sounds like you know me. But it’s just hard. It feels like my head is all foggy. I’m really, really sorry...”  

And then you start crying. You cry and cry, even though you can’t possibly be to blame, and all the while, Katsuki is helpless to do anything but watch.  

“It’s not—” He swallows hard, wiping his eyes so that he doesn’t start crying too. “I-It’s okay,” he chokes out. “It’s not your fault, [Name]. I’m Katsuki. Bakugou Katsuki. Does that name sound familiar at all? It’ll come back to you. I promise it will.”  

“I don’t know,” you sob. “I don’t know. I just don’t know...”  

He’s never wanted to hug you more in his entire life, but how can he? From your perspective, he’s nothing more than a stranger. You wouldn’t even let him hold your hand. All of those years spent together, all of those incredible memories you’d shared... they’re gone. Just like that.  

“It’s not your fault,” Katsuki mumbles brokenly.  

He says it again and again, but he’s not even sure you hear him over the sound of your own cries.  

The past few months have been the hardest of Katsuki’s entire life, and regretfully, the days ahead aren’t going to get any easier.  

Your amnesia is permanent. Or, at the very least, the odds of you making a recovery at this point are so small they may as well be zero.

Katsuki isn’t the only person you’ve forgotten. You forgot a good chunk of the classmates you went to U.A with, major life events, and even certain encounters with villains—including the very incident that nearly claimed your life. The doctor said it’s very common for traumatic events to be forgotten, and while Katsuki is glad that you don’t have to remember something so horrible, why did you have to forget all the good stuff too?  

It’s just not fair. Katsuki knows he should be grateful. He still gets to see your pretty, smiling face, he still gets to talk to you and hear you laugh from time to time. None of that would have been possible if the doctors hadn’t fought tooth and nail to save your life. At least you’re still young, your body is in healthy, functional shape, and the personality he fell for is still largely unchanged.  

Katsuki doesn’t want to complain. He doesn’t want to take what he still has for granted.  

But it just really fucking hurts.  

He hasn’t been able to hold you in months. He hasn’t been able to kiss you either. Even though he’s told you that the two of you used to date, you’ve forgotten all the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place. It’s taken time for you to let your guard down, especially since everything’s so difficult to make sense of.  

You’re friends. At the very least, Katsuki is still a part of your life. But every time he cracks an inside joke or accidentally makes a reference to something that happened in the past, and he sees the confused look in your eyes, a part of him breaks.  

Still, he refuses to stop trying. He’ll never stop trying. The doctors said that certain memories can trigger other ones, and in rare cases, even patients with severe memory loss were able to make a miraculous recovery.  

Katsuki never used to be the type of person to hold out hope for a miracle, but nowadays, it’s all he ever wishes for.  

“It’s pretty here,” you say, sighing happily. Your gaze flickers towards the beach’s shoreline, and you admire the gentle, rippling waves as the sun descends through the sky.  

Katsuki just stares at you. “You’re prettier,” he replies.  

“Oh, pfft,” you brush off. “Quit hitting on me.”  

He wants to do more than just hit on you. He wants you wrap his arms around you and slam his lips against yours, meeting you in the most desperate, passionate kiss he can muster. If it was up to him, the two of you would already be rolling around in the sand right now, bodies pressed together so close that you could feel each other’s heartbeat.  

But he can’t. You’re not ready yet. You’re not ready, and... you’ve forgotten. You’ve forgotten the happiest moments of his life.  

So, he’ll wait. There’s nothing else he can do but wait. Starting over from the beginning is painful and gut-wrenching. It’s an endless cycle of despair. You might never remember. There’s a chance you might not even fall in love with him again.  

But at least you’re alive. At least you’re here with him right now.  

Katsuki will never stop trying, no matter how much it hurts, no matter how much he cries. He’ll form new memories with you, and even if those disappear one day too... 

He’ll just start all over again. 

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Too Good To Say Goodbye pt 10

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

warnings: Sadness, more douche Logan, death

A/N: I’m sorry in advance.

part 1 I part 2 I part 3 I part 4 I part 5 I part 6 I part 7 I part 8 I Part 9 I Part 10

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Lando's POV

(back in the waiting room)

My chest feels like it’s collapsing in on itself. Each breath is a struggle, shallow and rapid, as if I’m drowning in the air around me. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears, a relentless drum that drowns out everything else.

I look around the waiting room, the sterile white walls closing in. The smell of antiseptic is overwhelming, making my stomach churn. I clutch the arms of the chair, my knuckles turning white. People move around me, their faces blurred and indistinct. I can’t focus on them. I can’t focus on anything except the gnawing fear in my gut.

My thoughts are a chaotic mess, spiraling out of control. What if something goes wrong? What if I lose her? The words echo in my mind, a constant, torturous refrain. I try to remember the last thing she said to me, try to hold onto something, anything, to ground myself, but it slips away like sand through my fingers.

I force myself to breathe, to count each inhale and exhale, but it’s like trying to hold back a flood with a paper dam. I can’t stop shaking. My hands tremble uncontrollably, and I bury my face in them, trying to hide from the onslaught of terror.

Minutes stretch into an eternity. I see a nurse walk by and I want to scream, to demand answers, but my voice is trapped in my throat. I’m helpless, stuck in this purgatory of waiting.

Every second feels like a knife twisting in my chest. I close my eyes, tears streaming down my face, and pray for a miracle, pray for her to come back to me.

3rd Person POV

Lando stood in the cold, clinical hallway of the hospital, the sterile scent of disinfectant filling his nostrils. The world seemed to tilt as he tried to process the doctor's words. "I'm sorry, Mr. Norris, but Y/N isn't going to survive the surgery. We've done everything we can, but the damage is too extensive."

His knees felt weak, and he grabbed onto the edge of a nearby chair to steady himself. The doctor's voice seemed distant, like it was coming from underwater. He couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Just a few hours ago, he had been holding Y/N's hand, whispering reassurances as they prepared for the arrival of their twins. Now, everything had unraveled into this nightmare.

The doctor continued, his expression a mix of sympathy and professional detachment. "We can wheel her to a recovery room if you wish. That way, you can be with her for her remaining moments."

Lando's mind raced, struggling to make sense of the situation. He looked into the doctor's eyes, searching for some sign of hope, some indication that this was all a terrible mistake. But there was none. Only the stark, unyielding truth.

"How long does she have?" Lando's voice was barely a whisper, his throat tight with emotion.

The doctor hesitated before answering, "It could be minutes, or it could be a few hours. It's hard to say."

Lando nodded numbly, his heart breaking with every beat. He couldn't bear the thought of Y/N being alone in her final moments, of her slipping away without him by her side. "Yes," he said finally, his voice trembling. "Please, take her to a recovery room. I want to be with her."

As the medical team wheeled Y/N into the recovery room, Lando followed, his steps heavy with dread. He could hardly recognize her under the tangle of tubes and wires, her face pale and devoid of the vitality that had always defined her. He took a seat beside her bed, reaching out to take her hand in his. It felt so small and fragile in his grasp, a stark contrast to the warmth and strength he had always known.

"Y/N," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm here, love. I'm right here."

Her eyelids fluttered open, and for a moment, he saw a flicker of recognition in her eyes. She tried to speak, but the effort was too much. Instead, she squeezed his hand weakly, a small gesture that conveyed more than words ever could.

Tears streamed down Lando's face as he leaned closer, pressing his forehead against her hand. "I love you so much," he choked out. "I don't know how to do this without you."

The room was filled with the steady beeping of the heart monitor, each sound a cruel reminder of the ticking clock. He talked to her about everything and nothing, sharing memories and inside jokes, trying to fill the silence with the life they had built together. He told her about the first time he saw her, how his heart had skipped a beat, and how he knew from that moment that she was the one.

As the hours passed, Lando felt a strange mixture of peace and despair. He was grateful for these final moments, for the chance to say goodbye, but the pain of losing her was unbearable. He held her hand until he could no longer feel its faint pressure, until the heart monitor’s beeps grew slower and slower, and finally, fell silent.

When it was over, he stayed by her side, his heart shattered into a million pieces. The love of his life was gone, and with her, the future they had dreamed of. He kissed her forehead one last time, whispering, “I love you, Y/N. Always.”

Leaving the hospital felt like tearing himself away from a part of his own soul. The world outside seemed indifferent to his pain, the sun shining brightly as if mocking his grief. Lando knew that he would never be the same, that the wound left by Y/N’s death would never fully heal. But he also knew that he had to keep going, to honor her memory and the love they had shared.

And so, with a heavy heart and a life forever changed, he took the first steps into a future that now felt unbearably uncertain and empty.

When Lando got home, he sat on the edge of his bed, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. In his hands, he held Y/N’s engagement ring, a delicate piece of jewelry that had once symbolized their future together. After her death, he couldn’t bear to keep it locked away, so he had threaded it onto a chain and worn it around his neck. It was his way of keeping her close, of holding onto the love they had shared and the dreams they had built.

-

(four months later)

Today was Lando’s first race back since the tragic death of his fiancée and his twin babies, it was the Las Vegas Grand Prix. The paddock was not as loud and upbeat as it usually was, for when everyone laid eyes on him, they all vocalized how sorry they were for his loss.

Some fans Lando had met and signed autographs for had expressed even more condolences to him and shared their own stories of their losses with their partners and/or children.

Lando never thought he’d ever have to live with not only losing his spouse but his two children too.

For Lando, race day seemed to come by faster than it ever has for him and soon enough the lights were out and away they went.

Lando started on pole with Oscar following suit in second, Carlos in 3rd and Logan not too far behind being in 7th.

The end of the race seemed to come just as fast as the beginning did. This was Lando’s second Formula 1 win but he wasn’t as happy as he thought he would be. How could he be? His Fiancée and babies who he should be celebrating with right now, are dead.

After the Podium celebration and even more people giving their condolences to Lando and saying how if Y/N was still here, how she’d be so incredibly proud of him and how she was the luckiest person on planet earth to be able to share this moment along with parenthood with him, Lando went to the bathroom in the McLaren garage to was rinse the champagne and sweat off.

Lando stood in the warm spray of the shower, letting the water cascade over him, easing the tension from his muscles. The events of the Las Vegas Grand Prix race replayed in his mind—the exhilaration of racing, the rush of speed, and the focus required to compete at the highest level. He had taken off Y/N's ring, carefully placing it on the bathroom counter before stepping into the shower. It was a rare moment of vulnerability for him, a brief respite from the intensity of his racing career.

As he emerged from the shower, a sense of unease crept over him. He reached for the towel, his eyes automatically darting to where he had left the ring. But it wasn't there. Panic surged through him as he frantically searched the countertop, then the floor, and even inside the shower stall. The ring was gone.

His heart pounded in his chest as he realized what had happened. Someone had taken it. His mind raced, replaying the moments before the race when he had briefly interacted with the team and a few fans who had access to the area. But there was no one he could suspect outright, except for one but there was no way he was capable of doing anything remotely that disrespectful.

Frustration and anger bubbled up within him. The ring wasn't just a piece of jewelry; it held profound sentimental value—memories of Y/N, their love, and the life they had planned together. Now it was gone, stolen in a moment of vulnerability.

Lando clenched his fists, the betrayal and loss cutting deep. He knew he had to find it. With determination fueling him, he dressed quickly, his mind focused on retracing his steps, questioning anyone who might have been near the area.

But even as he searched, a sinking feeling settled in his chest. The realization that someone had taken Y/N's ring from him—a tangible connection to his lost love—was a bitter blow. It wasn't just a piece of jewelry lost; it was a piece of his heart, a reminder of what he had lost and the pain he still carried with him every day.

-

The next day, as every day since she had been gone he had to deal with the memories of Y/N and their lost twins, Liberty and Carlos, surge through him, a bittersweet mixture of joy and pain. It had been 4 months, but the grief was still raw, an ever-present ache that never fully receded.

Lando’s phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the screen and saw a message from Carlos. The words made his blood run cold: "Have you seen this?"

Attached was a photo of Logan, down on one knee, proposing to his brand new girlfriend. But it wasn’t the proposal itself that stunned Lando—it was the ring in Logan’s hand. Y/N’s ring. The ring Lando had worn around his neck every day since her death.

Lando’s heart pounded as he tried to comprehend how Logan had gotten the ring. He remembered the last time he had seen Logan, just a day prior, at the Las Vegas Grand Prix but Lando avoided Logan as much as humanly possible.

Lando’s mind raced back to that night. At one point, he had taken off the necklace for a moment, feeling the weight of the memories overwhelming him. He had set it on the bathroom sink while he took a shower to rinse off the sweat and champagne from the race just a mere hour prior. He had thought it would be safe, but now he realized his mistake. Logan must have taken it then, seizing the opportunity to steal something so precious, so personal.

Anger surged through Lando as he stared at the photo. How dare Logan take something that belonged to Y/N, something that represented their love and their lost future? And to use it to propose to another woman, as if it were just any ring, was a betrayal that cut deep.

Lando knew he had to confront Logan, to get the ring back. He couldn’t let this stand. He grabbed his keys and headed out the door, his mind a whirlwind of anger and determination. He drove to Logan’s apartment, his grip tight on the steering wheel.

Lando stood at the door of Logan's apartment, his heart pounding in his chest. He could hardly believe he was here, confronting the man who had taken the ring that meant so much to him. It was the last tangible piece of Y/N he had, a symbol of their love and the future they had planned together. When Logan opened the door, his expression shifted from surprise to annoyance.

"What do you want, Lando?" Logan asked, his tone edged with irritation.

Lando took a deep breath, trying to keep his anger in check. "You know why I'm here, Logan. You took Y/N's ring. That was hers, and it belongs with me."

Logan's eyes flickered with something- guilt, maybe, or defiance. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me!" Lando's voice rose, his control slipping. "I saw the photo. You proposed to your girlfriend with Y/N's ring. That ring is all I have left of her. Give it back."

Logan's face hardened. "She's dead, Lando. She's not coming back. You need to let go."

Lando felt a surge of rage at Logan's callous words. "You have no idea what you're talking about. That ring is a part of Y/N, a part of our babies. You had no right to take it."

For a moment, Logan's defiant facade cracked. He turned and walked back into his apartment, returning a minute later with the ring. He tossed it to Lando with a look of disdain. Lando caught it and immediately checked it, feeling a rush of relief that it was indeed Y/N's ring. But before he could turn to leave, Logan's voice stopped him.

"You know, Lando," Logan said, his tone venomous, "it's your fault she's dead."

Lando froze, the words hitting him like a physical blow. "What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice shaking.

Logan stepped closer, his eyes cold. "The doctors told us she wouldn’t be able to have another kid. That she was too fragile to bear another baby, let alone two. She told you, no? Maybe she'd still be here if you kept it in your pants."

The accusation sliced through Lando, leaving him stunned and breathless. He had already blamed himself in countless ways, replaying every moment, every decision, wondering if he could have done something differently to save her. Hearing Logan admit that was like pouring salt into an open wound.

"That's not true," Lando whispered, but his voice lacked conviction. He wanted to believe it, but the guilt was too deeply ingrained.

Logan shrugged, a cruel smirk on his face. "Believe what you want. But you know I'm right. You knocked her up and now she's gone. And now Yelena has to grow up without her mom because of you."

Lando's heart shattered at the mention of Yelena, Y/N's one-year-old daughter from her previous relationship with Logan. The thought of Yelena growing up without Y/N was almost too much to bear. He had tried to be there for Yelena, to fill the void left by Y/N’s death, but it was never enough. The little girl had lost the most important person in her life, and the weight of that loss crushed Lando.

"Yelena..." Lando's voice broke. "She doesn’t deserve this. But neither did Y/N. Your relationship was toxic, Logan. She was happy with me. We were building a life together, a family. She died because of complications with the pregnancy. Even if the doctors told her that she couldn’t have another baby, she never told me! You can't put that on me."

Logan’s sneer faltered, replaced by a flicker of something—regret, pain, maybe even recognition. "She chose you," he said, his voice bitter. "She was happier with you. But that doesn’t change the fact that she's gone."

Lando’s anger surged again, mingling with his grief. "You’re right, Logan. It doesn’t change anything. But blaming me doesn’t help either. We all lost Y/N. We all have to live with that."

Logan looked away, the fight draining out of him. "Just take the ring and go."

Lando turned and walked away, each step feeling heavier than the last. Logan's words echoed in his mind, stirring up doubts and guilt he had tried so hard to suppress. When he got back to his car, he sat behind the wheel, staring at the ring in his hand. The accusations lingered, poisoning his thoughts, but he forced himself to focus on what mattered: Y/N, their babies, and Yelena.

He put the ring back on the chain around his neck, feeling its familiar weight settle against his chest. Despite the pain, he knew he had to keep going, to honor Y/N’s memory and the love they had shared. Logan’s words had cut deep, but Lando refused to let them define him. He would carry the ring, and the memories it held, with pride and determination.

As he drove home, Lando made a silent vow to Y/N and their lost children. He would remember the love and the happiness they had brought into his life, even if their time together had been cut tragically short. He would find a way to heal, to move forward, and to keep their memory alive. And he would never let anyone take that away from him again.

And for Yelena, he would be there as much as he could. He knew he could never replace Y/N, but he would make sure that Yelena knew how much her mother had loved her. He would tell her stories, share memories, and keep Y/N’s spirit alive in her daughter’s heart. Because that’s what Y/N would have wanted. And Lando would honor that, no matter how hard it was.

-

I may or may not have let a tear or two slip but unless you guys want an alternative ending, this series ends here 💔.

Thank you to each and every single one of you guys who’ve read, commented, reposted or shared this post. To the ones who accidentally found it on a different chapter and gave the whole thing a chance. To those who’s been here since the sneak peek I put out in May. To the ones who comment as they read.

Thank you to everyone on Tumblr who let me post my writing and to the ones who want to see more!

I have loved writing every single part of this story (even when I had major writers block for part 7) and I’m so happy you guys are taking time out of your day to read each part as they come out!

Goodbye “Too Good To Say Goodbye” Series, I have loved every bit of you but I do have to make room for other upcoming series!

Taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti @dhanihamidi @tellybearryyyy @a-panseuxalmess @love-simon @tallrock35 @iiaik0ii @Milkyymelanine @ilovsyou3000morgan @styl1shl1v @eddieharrington

[lesinquietes]

Yandere!Dabi is so fucking dysfunctional, but what can he say? He learned from the best.

⚠️ mdni (this isn’t for kids/teens). abusive relationship. angst. daddy issues. dark content (I mean it y’all). manipulation. noncon (mentioned). spanking. trauma. violence. victim-blaming.

He doesn’t understand the concept of a healthy relationship — romantic or platonic. His emotion regulation and impulse control are non-existant, making him a walking time-bomb of unresolved trauma that’s bound to be projected onto someone.

Does “I can fix him!” sound like you? If yes, he dubs you a pretty fool. You think you can fix literal decades of internal conflict? He reasons that you have damage of your own if you’re willing to enter a relationship under the premise that you have to change him. You must have daddy issues. In a way, so does he. Unfortunately, heavy baggage x heavy baggage isn’t a good mix.

He can’t let himself be happy. All that’s driving him is revenge. Nothing else has motivated him to continue like the thought of confronting Shoto and his father. He won’t let himself be watered down by love, which is why he laughs whenever you say you care about him, and why he ignores you for a few days until you beg. Mind games. Cruelty. Forcing you to apologize when you’ve done nothing conceivably wrong, but oh, he finds reasons. Coaxing you into saying you’re sorry with a blowjob. Telling you he doesn’t know why he’s with a slut who can’t suck properly. Shoving you away when he loses his erection by thinking about how he’s fucking up a shot at happiness by treating you like a cumrag.

He tells himself it’s self-sabotage. That’s not the whole truth. A small part of him is sadistic; a small part of him enjoys your pain. It reminds him he’s not alone in harbouring a hurricane in his heart. It’s nice to have someone he resonates with. You can combust together. At least, that’s what he fantasizes about, until you burst his bubble.

When enough is finally enough, you leave him. Your decision stems from intolerance. You’ve had enough of his callous treatment. You need a partner you can trust. As a villain, camaraderie is everything, and Dabi hasn’t proved to you he’s reliable. As much as it hurts you, a future away from him is what you need.

You search for a shred of remorse in his eyes. All you discover is darkness. You can’t stay.

But as you explain yourself through tears, stammering and apologizing, he finds himself feeling something for once. It’s absent of revenge. It’s separate from his upbringing. It’s a foreign sensation — for you.

He doesn’t want you to go. Your departure will make the headaches worse and the burns throb harder. It’ll make the rumination deeper and the urge to incinerate himself to a bloody crisp more tempting. It’ll push him to the limit before he’s prepared to face his family.

He searches for any bit of love that’s left inside your aching heart. He finds it in your avoidant gaze. You can’t go.

You throw shit at him as he advances, a feral expression on his stapled face. Running on pure adrenaline, he doesn’t feel the impact of any object. He lurks closer and lets you have your little tantrum. He remembers his mother having one or two of these, too, though his father was good at placating her; watching that from the doorway of his bedroom taught him precisely how he’ll placate you.

Violence isn’t the answer; at least, not if you listen. And you do. It only takes him grabbing you by the wrists and squeezing until you scream. They’ll be bruised for days. You’re lucky he didn’t break them.

He drags you into the bedroom by the hair and throws you onto the bed. He doesn’t let you squirm away. He pulls you onto his lap, yanks down your pants, and asks you how many hits you deserve. He’s not wholly unreasonable, so when you tell him to fuck right off, he thinks twenty is fair. Thirty if you lose count. Forty if you fight him. Fifty if you neglect to admit your wrongdoings. The choice to behave is yours, and he makes this known to you before he begins. If you falter, it’s all your fault.

By the time he’s done, and your ass stings like it’s been sunburnt, you’re weeping and regretting ever presuming you could leave him. How could you think he doesn’t care about you when he took time out of his busy schedule to correct your behaviour tonight? He wouldn’t teach anyone else a lesson — just you, his woman.

You perk up at the term. His woman. As much as you hate to admit it, glaring through the aftermath of sadness, attention from Dabi lights your heart on fire. You crave it. You want to make him happy. Of course, there’s a deranged method to your madness; if he’s happy, he’s not angry, and if he’s not angry, he’s halfway good to you. You need him to be good to you, like he needs you to be a better girlfriend. Take accountability. Give yourself to him. Trust. If he hasn’t been treating you the way you want to be treated, be patient. Maybe he’ll give your way a try when the mood possesses him.

And no more fucking running, or else you’ll have more to worry about than a couple of bruises.

[wrightingdungeon]

h,c,m for Shane

I'm so sorry this took me a while to get out 2. No, I do not have a favorite Bachelor

C - Confession: We all know his confession at the gridball game, sooo. Shane’s life has been a series of ups and downs, mostly downs. His battles with depression and alcoholism have left deep scars, both physically and emotionally. Every day feels like a struggle to keep his head above water. Looking at himself in the mirror fills him with dread, unable to see himself. He sees only his failures and shortcomings staring back at him, a constant reminder of the failure of a person he fears he’s become.

Then, you entered his life, a ray of sunshine piercing through his gloomy existence. Your kindness, your laughter, and the way you seemed to genuinely care for him began to break down his defenses. Shane found himself looking forward to seeing you, seeking out your company even though it terrified him. He was used to disappointment, to pushing people away before they could get too close. But you were different, and that scared him more than anything. —

Shane could not focus, his mind a storm of conflicting emotions. He knew you were talking to him, your voice gentle and warm, but his eyes were locked on the water, unable to meet your gaze. The gentle ripples on the surface seemed to mirror the turmoil within him, his heart racing and his thoughts churning with uncertainty.

He had been grappling with his feelings for you for a while now. Every moment he spent with you, every laugh shared and every smile exchanged, had deepened his feelings, making it harder to ignore the growing affection in his heart. But despite the clarity of his emotions, he was consumed by self-doubt. He couldn't shake the belief that you saw him as nothing more than a friend, a companion to hang out with. To him, the idea of you seeing him as a potential partner felt like a distant fantasy, something too good to be true.

The fear of rejection loomed over him like a dark cloud, casting shadows on his confidence. Shane had always been the type to guard his heart fiercely, to hide behind a facade of nonchalance and humor. The thought of you rejecting him, of your friendly demeanor turning cold, was almost too painful to bear. He had seen himself as too flawed, too damaged to deserve something as pure and genuine as your affection. The voice in his head repeatedly told him that he was not worthy, that you were better off without him.

Even as he sat there, listening to you, Shane’s mind was miles away, lost in the mire of his insecurities. He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, his fingers twitching as he struggled to keep his composure. The more he tried to focus on what you were saying, the more he was drawn back to the reality of his fears. The idea of confessing his feelings seemed daunting, like standing on the edge of a cliff with no clear path down.

“Hey, you ok?” Hearing your voice cut through his thoughts, Shane turned to look at you. For a moment, he was lost in the depths of your eyes, the concern etched on your face. His gaze drifted to your lips, the soft curve of them stirring a rush of emotions within him. The moment stretched, the world narrowing down to just the two of you.

“No…” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. His heart pounded so loudly he could barely hear his own words. It was as if his body had gone on autopilot, driven by the overwhelming need to be honest, yet terrified of the consequences. He leaned in, compelled by a mix of fear and longing, his breath mingling with yours. Every instinct told him to pull back, to retreat into the safety of his doubts, but he was unable to stop the advance.

When his lips pressed against yours, his mind went blank. The contact was electric, sending a jolt through him that left him breathless. For a split second, everything else faded away—the worries, the fears, the doubts. All that remained was the warmth of your lips against his, the softness that felt like coming home.

His hands, previously restless, now rested gently on your arms, holding you close but not forcefully. The kiss was tentative at first, a delicate exploration of feelings that had been locked away for too long. As the moment stretched, Shane’s anxiety began to melt away, replaced by a desperate need to convey everything he felt for you in this single, simple act. The kiss deepened, driven by a mixture of longing and vulnerability, as he poured all of his emotions into it, hoping you could feel the sincerity behind it.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes searched yours, seeking any sign of rejection or acceptance. Gasping slightly, he felt your lips crash back into his. The intensity of your kiss was unexpected, but it was also a balm to his anxious heart.

As you both pulled back he laughed nervously as he looked at you. “I… I’m ok now.”

H - Heartbreak: Shane has experienced a ton of heartbreak through his years, his dream life was shattered, and the tragic deaths of Jas’s parents left him reeling. Every loss has carved a deep wound in his heart, each one compounding the pain he carries with him every day. His heart being broken again goes about as well as you might think it would. He retreats into himself, locking himself in his room for days on end, only leaving when absolutely necessary. Not even the allure of the saloon can draw him out; the thought of facing the world and his friends is too much to bear.

The isolation becomes his comfort, his room a fortress against further hurt. He's lucky there is no food delivery service in town, or he would undoubtedly be ordering food to his door, avoiding any human contact altogether. —

His bedroom wall next to his bed had become his companion in his depression, his eyes fixated on the deep blue wallpaper. The intricate patterns had become a backdrop for his spiraling thoughts, a canvas for the sorrow that consumed him. He had no job, so he saw no reason to get out of bed. Moving back into Marnie's had been a necessary step; the farm home you used to share held far too many painful memories for him to stay, each corner a stark reminder of your absence. The decision to leave the home you had worked on together only drove him deeper into despair, guilt gnawing at him for abandoning the life you had envisioned side by side.

“Shane?” He heard Marnie calling through the door, her voice attempting to sound cheerful but betraying her underlying anxiety. “Hun, I made pizza… You should come eat with us.” She lingered outside, waiting for any response. Shane’s heart ached at the thought of her constant worry, her attempts to pull him out of the darkness he had succumbed to.

He had all but given up since you passed. It happened so fast, an abrupt and cruel twist of fate. One day he had you, the warmth of your body, the comfort of your voice, and the next, you were gone, leaving a void so vast it seemed impossible to fill. The shock of your loss had numbed him at first, but as days turned into weeks, the reality set in, and the weight of his grief became unbearable.

The room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a tomb, echoing with memories of your laughter, your touch, your scent. Shane pulled the blanket tighter around himself as if it could shield him from the pain. His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten properly in days, but the thought of food, of sitting at a table and pretending everything was normal, felt like a betrayal to your memory.

He could hear Marnie’s footsteps retreating, her soft sigh barely audible. The room fell silent again, leaving Shane alone with his friends the deep blue wallpaper, and his abysmal thoughts once more. The silence was thick, almost tangible, crushing him as he struggled to breathe through the pain of his sorrow.

“Shane…” He perked up slightly hearing Jas at this door. “Come eat please…” Her voice was soft, pleading, and it broke his heart a little more. He hated hearing her sound so depressed, knowing she was trying to be strong for him. He didn’t want her to feel the way he did, trapped in a dark void with no way out.

He wiped away the tears that had started to fall and took a deep breath, trying to gather the strength to move. The thought of Jas, her innocent eyes filled with worry, gave him a small spark of determination. He couldn��t let her see him like this, couldn’t let her lose hope as well.

Slowly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, the cold floor beneath his feet grounding him just enough. He stood up, feeling the weight of his grief still pressing down on him, but the image of Jas waiting for him outside the door pushed him forward. He had to try, for her sake, and maybe, just maybe, for his own as well.

M - Memory: He loves all the memories he has made with you, from your first kiss to the late nights when he can't sleep and you play with his hair until he's relaxed enough to drift off. But there is one memory that he frequently looks back upon, one that makes him smile and reminds him just how special his life has truly become. —-

He had decided to let you sleep in. You had been sick the past couple of days, and he knew you needed rest more than anything. So he took on the responsibility of managing the farm by himself, a task he didn’t mind in the least. The sprinklers took care of watering the crops, so his main duties involved tending to the animals and checking the fruit trees.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, heating up from day to high noon, Shane made his way back to the house. He wanted to see how you were feeling and to get a moment to cool off.

Walking inside, he noticed the house was quiet, a gentle stillness that contrasted with the usual hustle and bustle. He spotted you at the kitchen island, seated with a nervous smile playing on your lips. The sight made his heart flutter with a mix of concern and anticipation. “Hey, you feeling better?” he asked, his voice tender as he approached you. He leaned in and kissed your temple softly, careful not to get you sweaty like he was.

“Uh… Yeah,” you said, glancing down at the counter and then back up at him. Shane followed your gaze and blinked a few times, his eyes widening in surprise as they settled on the positive pregnancy test in front of you.

“Where did you get that?” he asked, his voice slightly shaky as his mind struggled to piece together what he was seeing. The positive result was almost too surreal to process.

“Shane…” you said, a hint of laughter in your voice as you shook your head. “Online. I wasn’t about to ask Harvey or Maru for one.”

Shane looked back up at you, his brain slowly catching up with the reality of the situation. “That’s yours…” he trailed off, the weight of the realization beginning to sink in.

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes as a radiant smile spread across your face. “We’re going to have a baby, Shane.”

For a moment, Shane stood there, his emotions a whirlwind of emotions. The enormity of the news felt like it was expanding within him, filling every corner of his heart. Then, without a second thought, his face broke into a wide grin. He swept you into a firm embrace, his excitement overriding his concern about getting you sweaty as he lifted you off your chair. He twirled you around, laughter bubbling out of him, filling the once quiet room with an infectious energy.

“We’re going to have a baby!” he exclaimed, his voice booming with excitement. The words felt almost magical, transforming the ordinary moment into something extraordinary.

You laughed along with him, holding on tightly as he spun you. When he finally set you down, his eyes were bright with tears of happiness. “I can’t believe it,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I never thought… I mean, I always hoped, but…”

You cupped his face in your hands, looking deeply into his eyes. “I know, Shane. I know. But now it’s real. We’re going to have a family.”

Shane nodded, his heart swelling with love. “A family,” he repeated softly, as if savoring the word. “I’m going to be a dad.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, absorbing the reality of your new future. Then, Shane pulled back, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know, we’re going to have to tell Marnie. She’s going to be over the moon.”

You smiled, nodding. “And Jas. She’s going to be so excited.”

Shane chuckled, already imagining their reactions. “Yeah, and we’ll have to start getting the nursery ready. And we’ll need to think about names, and…” You chuckled, shaking your head as Shane carried on about everything that needed to be done.

“Hey,” you said gently, cupping his face again, and making him look at you. “One day at a time.” You teased, pinching his cheeks lovingly.

Shane smiled, his eyes softening as he placed his hands over yours. “You’re right,” he agreed, his voice calming. “One day at a time.” He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. “I love you,” he whispered.