#sorry just had to do my daily affirmations | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cosmicstarlatte · 2 years ago

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Your work is AMAZING! I hope you're proud of yourself! 💕

I was wondering if you could write how the brothers would react to finding out you're insecure about your body/ looks? I feel like Lucifer and Beel would be so so sweet to MC 🥰

Have a wonderful rest of your day and stay safe!

Thank you!!! 🥺 Sorry for the wait friend, I nervously kept rewriting this for a while 😆♡

MC Feeling Insecure (Obey Me!)

"The truth is...I've always been insecure about my body and how I look." You say, confiding in your favorite demon one day.

»Characters: Demon Bros

»Tags: GN Reader, Fluff/Some Humor, Bulleted Style, Levi being down bad in his weird sweet way, Satan with the rizz™️

»Notes: I use beautiful+gorgeous+darling so if that bothers you then you should probably skip this!

Lucifer:

"You like to give me headaches." (Affectionate)

He just thought you knew how beautiful you are, he was surprised

The avatar of pride was going to teach you a lesson, it's what he does best after all

"We'll work through it together. I'll show you what I love about you."

And show you he did; he kissed every part of you that he loved- which was everything

He would tell you how great you looked, even in front of others

He took pride in that; it comes in many forms you see

He gave you daily affirmations and was patient with you on your bad days

One day he held your face gently and made you look at him: "I've been around for centuries and have had the opportunity to see all the realms...and I'd never met someone as beautiful as you." ♡♡♡

Mammon:

"Huh?"

He got real quiet...he was mildly annoyed

Actually, he started getting a little mad

How could you not see how perfect you are!?

Fine! Tch!

He took both your hands and looked at you intensely, knowing his face was burning

"Listen here-!"

"YoureTheMostBeautifulBeingInAllTheRealms!"

"You'rePerfection! ICantKeepMyEyesOffYou!"

Although his face was burning, he hoped in his heart that you understood how beautiful you are, it hurt him to think you thought otherwise

From then on he made an effort everyday (he hoped it helped) to tell you something he liked about you in his own Mammon way

Usually via text bc in person was too much for the tsundere sometimes

(1) New text from Mammon: Look all I'm sayin' is I know beautiful treasure when I see it, got it?

Levi:

"Ehh!?!"

He was not having it!

He thinks you're the most perfect thing ever!

The most precious thing to have ever graced his disgustingly bleak life!

He felt a little bad at his outburst, he didn't mean to disregard your feelings

He knows a thing or two about insecurities after all

But he just cannot have you thinking that way and wanted to help you if he can!

The demon otaku pulled out a ready made powerpoint on why you're the absolutely perfect 3D partner

"L-look... all in all...you're beautiful! And I'll do a-anything I can to help you see that!"

He made it a point to worship you every day no matter how nervous he was

Yes he started a fan club, yes everyone else joined

Even Henry and Cerberus were a part of it

Satan:

"Hm. To think, I didn't expect someone as gorgeous as you would actually give me the time of day."

Tbh he also understands insecurities with one's self

He didn't know you also suffered through the same; and he wasn't going to let you go through it alone

"For what it's worth, I think you're absolute perfection." He said placing a kiss on your forehead

Brought out some self help books and the two of you went through them together

He would leave you daily positive handwritten notes

That didn't stop him from telling you how gorgeous you are in person though

Asmo:

"What!? I think you're absolutely gorgeous...Do you want to talk more about it?"

He was familiar with insecurities too, unbeknownst to...nearly everyone, so he sure as hell wasn't going to let you go through this alone!

He lent an ear and reassured you that you were so perfect and that you'll see it one day like so many others do

"Do you know how many demons and monsters we have to chase off everyday!?" "What!?" "Nevermind! But darling you are downright gorgeous down to your soul!"

Your personal hype man

Started hyping you up every morning before RAD...eventually everyone started joining in, even Lucifer

Beel:

"You're perfect the way you are?"

This big guy was confused, he didn't mean to sound rude or anything to your feelings

He just wasn't prepared for your confession

He thought you were divine; if he didn't know any better he'd think you were from the celestial realm

No matter-- he was going to help you see your beauty one way or another

He hugged you tightly, "Thank you for trusting me"

He held your hand as the two of you talked and he tried to reassure you the best he could

He covered you in kisses and, if you were okay with it, gave extra attention to the parts you hated

"You're delicious in so many ways. You're really beautiful."

Looked up ways to make you feel better and made you a jar with little daily affirmation notes ♡

Like everyone else, also told you personally everyday how beautiful you are

Belphie:

"...That's dumb."

Okay, even he thought that came out a little harsher than intended...leave it to him to be blunt

"I mean, I literally dream about you and when I'm awake you're better than any dream. You're beautiful."

He hugged you in hopes of making you feel better

"Look I'm not good at these things but I'll remind you everyday how amazingly gorgeous you are, alright?"

If you happen to nap/sleep together, he will whisper sweet stuff into your ear

"I'll keep saying these things until you believe it. And continue to, even after you realize it yourself."

⬦You might also like: You ARE The Father︱Giving Him Flowers︱Only You (Lucifer) ︱Radiant (Beel)

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me fluff #obey me fic #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹#✩ — the star: lucifersimp333!

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years ago

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Can i request headcandons of the spiderverse Boys with a shy nurse reader who is constantly tired? Being nurse and spider person is a physically and mentally demanding job and i think that would be nice see more spiderverse content, but if u don't want to make this request i understand

A/n: I’m sorry Most of these are either short cuz I didn’t know what to put for them or come across as a carbon copy of the other in due to me not knowing what to put there instead🤣

Miles sympathises with you wholeheartedly.

Trying to find a healthy balance between being a nurse -an intensive and highly demanding profession- and being a hero was definitely a challenge that had detrimental affects upon one’s mental and physical health.

Miles would affirm you with his words of praises and encouragement all the while holding you tightly, wilfully being your personal pillow/recharging station that often times he’d catch you fall asleep against him because his presence was that warm and comforting to you that it lulled you into a peaceful sleep.

Miles deeply admires your dedication to saving people not only as hero but also within the medical field. But he often does worry that you work yourself to the bone trying to find a way to perform both tasks without having them overlap one another.

There do come days where it all becomes a bit too much as your body grows sick and tired of your constant negligence and choose it’s way of rebelling by refusing you any sort of mobility of your limbs. Your mental state also tanks which only made your want to move even harder as you didn’t even have to willpower to make it so.

Miles would be a major source of comfort during these moments as he would remind you of all the achievements and accomplishments you’ve made during your tenure as both hero and Nurse. He’d probably have his music on as background noise whilst he’s taking the time and effort in making sure you’re as comfortable as possible.

Things he most often says are;

‘You have done so many amazing things and your only just getting started! How cool is that?!’

‘You’re an inspiration to not only the people you save on a daily basis but your also an inspiration to me as well that I even made art about you. Here, take a look!’

‘Don’t beat yourself up over this, you always get back up and hit them twice as hard because that’s what my y/n does, for my y/n ain’t no quitter, they’re a fighter.’

‘Bad days come to pass because the better ones always remain.’

‘Rest, I’ll take over from here.’

‘You’re not alone in this because I’m not going anywhere, I’ll be right here to catch you when you need me to.’

Pavitr would, If you let him, smother you in affection and cuddles but to the right amount so it doesn’t cross the border where it could potentially get annoying.

Which with Pav, it never does because his hugs and cuddles were the best and yet to be topped by anything or anyone because they are superior.

Plus they brought you warmth and comfort that you can’t help but bury yourself into his neck after a shit day in hopes of forgetting all about it as his hand rubs your back soothingly whilst also fighting the urge to just fall asleep then and there.

Also this lad would just spoil you with small gifts as to show his appreciation for you even though he does so quite eloquently enough with his words and his actions that this was merely the cherry on top.

Due to Pavitr being more able to read people then most, he’d notice the indicators within you that told him you weren’t feeling your best and he would make sure to take you to his favourite places within Mumbattan in hopes that it’ll help you by even just a little bit. After all he’s aware of the concept that fresh air and a change of pace were beneficial to a better mental health, and all he wants was for you to feel better, even if it was by a little that would mean a whole lot to him.

Hobie would want you to have a change of scenery from the hustle and bustle you subjugate yourself to on an daily basis to somewhere less noisy and loud within any aspect.

Sure it’s not his kind of scene but for you and how much work you put on yourself just to come home, looking as though any minute you were going to collapse? It was worth seeing you gradually become more relaxed and at peace to the point you fall asleep against his shoulder and he has to carry you back home.

again Hobie didn’t care since he knew how much sleep you missed out on and would not hesitate to get you a few days off if he feels as though you workplace was taking the piss out of you by thinking you were expendable.

He ain’t having none of that shit when it came to you.

Hobie wasn’t about to let you work yourself to the bone and not get a single thanks nor your flowers for busting your ass.

You tell him that it doesn’t bother you as you were doing what your job entails but Hobie more or less your backbone within these sorts of situations because he didn’t want you being taken advantage of just because you were ‘hard working.’ Not to say you aren’t but Hobie was more then well aware that this was often the excuse given when some shit stain wanted to offload their work onto someone else for personal gain.

It was always the ones who worked the least or didn’t work at all that got the appraisal and the promotions.

So Hobie would always and I mean ALWAYS praise you for everything you’ve done for he doesn’t believe you hear it enough for his liking.

Also he’s great with advice so when the days were particularly rough, he’d probably drop a bit of sage advice in regards to any aspect that you were finding hard to cope with like; ‘while the aspiration to save everyone is admirable; it’s unrealistic. For you’re setting yourself up to traverse down a road where instead of pointing out the problem, you are made to believe that you are the problem. Instead of trying to save everyone, focus on saving one person at a time for that one person could be someone else’s everything.’

Being the absolute secret sweetheart that he is, Miguel would try and help take the weight off of your shoulders and make your life a whole lot more easier by performing small acts of service that he knows you’ll greatly appreciate.

Even if it was the minuscule things such as; making you your favourite beverage, setting up a relaxing bath/ shower. fluffing up the pillows, smoothing the creases out of the duvet, cooking your favourite food since you always tell him that one of the things you always loved coming home to was the smell of his cooking. Hell do it all if it made you happy.

Miguel defiantly pampers you on the days where you felt more fatigued from your dual jobs. He doesn’t want you to do anything for you’ve already done enough to warrant yourself some much needed rest.

He lives to serve his beloved and would reject your requests to help him by planting kisses to your lips until you ultimately accept his pampering with little to no complaint.

If you were in the spider society, he’d give you time off because he’s the boss and all and if you were to go against his request for you to take time for yourself, he’d threaten to double it even though he was seriously considering it with how obvious tightroping two jobs was negatively effecting you.

Miguel doesn’t want you to overwork yourself but will overwork himself…what a hypocrite.

Soft Miguel is only soft with you.

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dailydragon08 · 10 months ago

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hi! if it's ok I'd love to request a scenario for the star wars gang please :) I'd love to see how they all react to a genderfluid s/o (if you have any questions plz dm me :D)

thank you!

Thanks so much for the ask! Sorry this took so long, I was on a bit of a semi-hiatus, but am back now and working on the other asks in my box! Also, thank you to @kaleidoscope1967eyes for some of the suggestions in here!

I think everyone would kind of be in the realm of similar reactions here, but with a few small differences. Everyone is very accepting about you being gender fluid and doesn’t make a huge deal of it, but are very protective of you in different ways. Eventually, they all get a knack for being able to tell whether you’re leaning more masc, fem, or somewhere in between for the day just by your clothes and hairstyle and will adjust pronouns accordingly if necessary.

Growing up as royalty and a major player in both the imperial senate and the New Republic, Leia is always on top of the latest fashions (which I wish they explored more in other media, but I digress). I think she’d be so interested in helping you adapt different clothing and hairstyles to how you were feeling that particular day and loves finding an outfit that either matches or sort of rhymes what you’re wearing to any events—or even just day-to-day wear. Being royalty and a politician, she’s traveled a lot, so this isn’t a new concept to her at all, and she thanks you for telling her with a warm smile and shoulder squeeze before getting down to business for the day. She’s very adamant that you not only have all the gender-affirming things you need day to day, but also that your preferred pronouns are written correctly in all official documents.

And if someone tries to misgender you or discriminate against you in any way whatsoever, Leia will give them the biggest dressing down of their life – no matter the time, place, or audience – and make sure they know to never pull anything like that ever again. By the time she’s done, they’re standing there like a chastised, guilty toddler as they apologize to you. If she had to, Leia would glare down and lecture the entire senate until they not only got it right, but didn’t even think about forgetting or getting it wrong ever again.

Luke is very accepting and wants you to feel safe and welcome with him above all else. He would make sure to give you a soft smile and thank you for telling him before opening up a discussion to make sure he was doing everything he could to support you and learn how he could improve. He does research on his own as well and if you’re also Force-sensitive, he will get you as many custom-made Jedi robes as you want so you have options for whatever you’re feeling day to day. He checks in with you frequently, both verbally and through the Force, to make sure you’re feeling okay and check if you’re using different pronouns from the day before. If you’re comfortable, he starts doing a daily check in via telepathic connection each morning so that even if you don’t have time to talk or are several rooms away, he’s still well informed.

The way he defends you differs a bit from his sister. If someone misgenders you or makes any sort of unnecessary comment, he’ll immediately interrupt and correct them. His face and tone stay as calm and serene as ever thanks to his Jedi training, but you can feel the irritation flowing off of him if it’s anything more than an innocent mistake. If this person continues with their behavior, he’ll correct them again and ask them to be respectful and make it clear in no uncertain terms that he sees any disrespect to you as disrespect to him and that the two of you will be walking away until they can conduct themselves better. Afterwards, he’s checking in on you and apologizing for the experience so gently and doing whatever it takes to make you feel better.

Han being Han of course makes some harmless, playful remark the first time your style drastically changes in front of him. But once you explain you’re gender fluid, he takes it in stride with a “good to know; so what are we doing for lunch?” He tends to be more observant than people give him credit for – especially with those he cares about – and although he gets good at knowing what you’re feeling that day with a glance, still decides to make a “Gender of the Day” game. Traveling around on the Falcon with him puts you in constant proximity and you find yourself stealing his shirts and jackets quite often on more masc-leaning days (which never hesitates to pull a cocky compliment or pickup line from him).

Anyone who dares to make a snide comment gets Captain Solo in full force, with a low “listen here, pal” as he leans across the table and makes sure they know if it happens again, they’ll not only have an angry sharpshooter on their hands, but also a pissed off Wookiee.

To follow up, Chewie (platonic) also is immediately accepting and although you can’t understand his language, you overhear Han keeping him up to date with your pronouns every day. Eventually, you learn from C-3PO’s translation that Chewie goes out of his way to ask someone in the OT gang every morning (and sometimes directly comes to you with the protocol droid’s help) just to make sure he’s got it right. He’s more than happy to help Han defend you as well and even when it’s just the two of you, he gives an ominous growl as he stands up to his full seven feet if anyone gives you trouble.

Similar to Leia, Lando is also well-traveled and an avid lover of fashion. This isn’t a new concept to him at all and in fact, when the two of you meet, he’s already asking what your preferred pronouns are. Like the princess, he’s also always elated to help you adapt your fashion choices and has many things custom-made for you – you can hardly say you like something or wish an aspect of a piece of clothing was a little different before he’s already buying it or having his tailors work on it. He even gifts you some articles of clothing that are a two (or even three!) in one via folding a flap a certain way, zipping something, etc. so that one shirt or pair of pants can double as either more masc, fem, or in between.

He's extremely protective of you, no matter who is giving you problems, and will always insert himself between you and the perpetrator with a hey before correcting them in a tone that leaves no room for argument. Especially with his higher rank in the rebellion, he can easily have someone removed from the room if needed and if Chewie’s nearby, employs the Wookiee’s help as well.

R2-D2 (platonic) chirps and beeps while wobbling on his outer legs to let you know he understands and is more than happy to support you. Although you can’t typically understand his noises, he still will sneakily change code in official documents or computer systems to reflect correct pronouns and if someone’s giving you a hard time, he’ll use one of his little retractable arms to give them a little shock.

C-3PO (platonic) of course is aware of gender fluidity, but has never met someone like you – at least, not that he remembers before his memory was wiped. Ever since then, he’s been glued either to Leia or Luke’s side, so hasn’t had a chance to experience much outside of the chaotic workload the rebellion usually requires. But he’s so interested and excited to ask you questions if you’ll allow, but also makes sure to educate himself on his own. You have to hold back your laughter sometimes when he excitedly comes to you about some new piece of information he found as if you didn’t know it yourself – but of course, halfway through his excited ramble, he remembers who he’s talking to and goes “oh, I’m so terribly sorry” before offering to help you in any way he can, always interrupting and correcting people when needed, and if they don’t back down, telling them point blank “well, I think you’re rather rude.”

Taglist: @kaleidoscope1967eyes @masterlukessaber @coffeeorsomething-irl @eveningserenityyy @victorian-nymph @lxstfathier @rogue-kenobi @lavandula-ipsum @sonofthedunes @pomplalamoose @lex-the-flex @ilovemarkhamill

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ihearthes · 1 year ago

Text

Christmas Thyme part 1

Author: @ihearthes

Pairing: Harry x Reader Insert (1st person)

Rating: Smut (NSFW, 18+ Only)

Word Count: 2665

‘Tis a week before Christmas, and just as I am preparing to twist the “Open” sign to its “Closed” side, the bell over the door jingles. Inwardly, I groan. Outwardly, I paste on my brightest smile as I pivot towards my (hopefully) final customer of a very long, very exhausting day.

I freeze.

Because standing there in the doorway of my boutique is Harry Styles. THE Harry Styles. You know. As It Was. Watermelon Sugar. Sex on a stick. That last one isn’t a song. Just a description.

“Um, hi,” I mumble, not knowing what else to say, but then I quickly tack on a “How may I help you?”

His eyebrows draw downwards, and he looks around at the merchandise which, after a long day of Saturday sales in the last few frantic days before the most important gift-buying holiday of the year, is scattered everywhere.

I’ve no idea if I want him to decide to leave immediately or if I should beg him to stay and shop. I do neither.

But only because I spot another person on the street outside, pointing at one of the most sought after and most frequently purchased soy candles. She and her friend appear to be heading towards the door, so I summon the last of my energy and lunge for the door ahead of them, pulling the shade while simultaneously rotating the lock. My panicked movements mean I jostle the popstar as he stands nearby.

“Oops! I’m so sorry. I just…”

“Are you open or closed?” He asks, worry etched on his forehead where it peeks out underneath his black beanie. I take him in, recognising his face instantly. With a pair of joggers, he wears a black Pleasing crewneck, and I’m briefly jealous of how cosy it looks. I wouldn’t mind snuggling close – to the crewneck, of course.

I am, after all, a competent businesswoman. Pfft. Okay, I’m trying to be one.

“We’re closed now, but if you don’t have much to shop for, you’re welcome to look around while I tidy up in preparation for Tuesday’s maniacal clientele.

He grunts, and I assume it’s affirmation that he’d like to look around, so I nod. “Are you looking for something in particular? Or shopping for a certain someone?” Wracking my brain, I attempt to recall if he’s currently dating anyone, but I’ve no idea. Since opening up my pop up last month, I’d not had time to do much more than work daily until exhaustion forces me to crawl into bed with a heating pad on my back and warm peppermint compresses on my feet.

“Just looking…” He smiles, and I’m nearly blinded by the left dimple.

Holy shit. No wonder he’s so popular.

I have the silly idea that I should sniff him. It would be easy to make a tonne of money from bottling his scent and selling it. Then I would have enough money to set up a permanent shop to sell my organic candles, soaps, and lotions.

Resisting only because I have managed to maintain some self-respect after being yelled at and cursed at by customers all day long, I decide to provide him some privacy.

“Absolutely. Let me know if you have any questions.”

He nods once, and I swear my insides melt into a puddle like Frosty the Snowman when the sun has come out.

Stepping to the counter, I fiddle with the sound system, turning off the grating holiday tunes that permeate the atmosphere this time of year and sliding instead into some soothing jazz from Alfa Mist. As soon as the first song starts playing, Harry’s head whips around and he stares in my direction.

“Excellent choice.” His voice is gravelly and kind with a bit of surprise in it.

“It’s the kind of music I prefer,” I shrug, not knowing what else to say.

“Me too.”

It’s such a surprising thing for him to say that I do my own double take, but he’s returned already to smelling the candles on the wall display.

Shrugging, I move to the first shelves to the right of the register, straightening products, and making mental notes of what I need to restock. When I move to the next set of shelves, though, it’s clear that a mental note isn’t going to be of any help. There are simply too many hand lotions, soaps, and other products that need to be replaced. Sighing, I move behind the counter again, withdrawing a pad of paper. Quickly, I jot down what I need to replace on the first two shelves.

Turning my head, I see that Harry has barely finished sniffing one shelf of candles. “Um…” He glances up at my utterance. “...would you mind if I stepped into the back to grab some more stock?”

“Whatever you need to do.” His voice is so silky that I could easily wear it and nothing else against my skin forever.

In the small stockroom, I remove my shoes, wiggling my toes that have been screaming at me for the last two hours. Grabbing a basket I keep for just this purpose, I fill it with the items on my list before stepping back onto the main floor. The coolness of the tiles under my toes is soothing, and I sigh at the pleasure of it on my hot skin. Quickly, I restock the first two shelves, giving my feet a workout as I have to rise onto my toes multiple times. My knees also get to practise squatting so I can place items on the bottom shelf.

After I slide my protesting feet back into my shoes, I sneak a peek to check on Harry. He’s moved on to the next set of shelves, opening the sample shampoos and smelling them one by one.

At this rate, he’ll be here another hour at least.

Surveying the third set of shelves, I jot down the merchandise I need to pull from the back for this one. It’s the shelf of eye compresses I’ve made that include differing herbs to soothe the skin around the eyes and quiet the mind. With a quick glance at Harry, I return to the storeroom, trying to recall where I’d placed the box holding more eye compresses.

Spying it on a higher shelf, hiding behind a box of the scented rice neck pillows I’d designed to be heated and worn next to the skin, I stand on my tiptoes in order to reach. Just — one — more — inch — CRASH! Both boxes clatter to the ground, the sides splitting open on the box holding the neck pillows, and I sigh.

“Are you okay?”

His voice startles me, and I jump like that time I’d been forced to watch a horror movie by my previous boyfriend. The arsehole.

Placing my hand on my chest to calm my pounding heart, I smile at where his head has emerged through the curtain separating the sales floor and stockroom.

“Thank you for checking on me. I’m okay. Just knocked off a couple of boxes.”

“Shit. That looks annoying. Let me help.” He muscles his way past the curtain, assisting me by setting the box right side up. I locate the roll of packing tape I’d used earlier to package some items for a customer who wanted them delivered, handing the tape to Harry as he repairs the box. “I’m Harry.” His introduction is endearing, and I share my name too.

“No one else working tonight?” His hushed tones do things to my body that are inappropriate for work.

“No one else is working ever. It’s my shop, and I couldn’t afford to pay for help this year.”

“Damn. How do you manage?”

“Well, I take it slow on nights like this with the restocking and tidying because I know I’ll get the next two days to soak my feet and relax.”

“But how do you do it during the day with all the customers?”

“I think that’s clear from the state of the front. I muddle through.” My shrug is intended to communicate that there’s no real answer to that question.

“Can I help?”

“YOU?” I yelp, clamping both hands over my mouth at my shriek.

“Why not me?”

“Um, cause you’re Harry Styles.”

When he smiles this time, his eye crinkles come into focus, and I’m lost in him. I could stare at those crows’ feet all night, I think.

“And that means I can’t help?”

“It means that you probably have plenty of plans that don’t include stocking shelves.”

“Hmmm… tonight, I actually do not have plans. My sister and I were supposed to shop for our mum, and then my sister ended up ill, so…” Trailing off, he raises both hands to the side in imitation of a shrug. “You can pay me by helping me choose gifts for my mum and my sister. And my manager’s wife. And maybe the wives of my friends.”

“That’s silly. I’d help you with that for free.”

“Ah, well then, you can take me out to dinner after we’re done.”

My jaw drops. Dinner with Harry Styles?

Is he asking me out on a date?

“Just as repayment, right?” I ask.

“For starters,” he smirks, and my panties become uncomfortable as I rub my legs together. “I’ll take these boxes out front.” Bending his knees, he picks up the box of neck pillows with the box of eye compresses on top. Striding through the curtain, he drops the boxes on the floor and immediately starts artfully arranging the merchandise. Occasionally, he brings a pillow to his nose and breathes in deeply.

Mesmerised, I watch from the door to the store room. After a few minutes, he removes his coat, carefully draping it over the counter, smiling at me as I straighten the bottles of lotion on the table, ensuring that the rosemary mint doesn’t get mixed up with the rosemary thyme. It’s easy to get them confused as the labels are similar.

“How long did it take you to prepare all of this?” Harry asks, his hand encompassing the entire shop.

“All year. My dad –” I pause as emotion invades my throat, layering it with sorrow. Finally, I swallow, clearing the grief. “My dad was ill for the last couple of years, so I quit my job to move in and take care of him. I started growing the herbs in his garden. And then I needed something to do with all of the herbs I grew, so I started making soaps and selling them at the local farmer’s market. Demand was swift, and I’ve been expanding the line for the last eight months or so.”

“That’s amazing!” His face has lit up like the Christmas tree that’s in the corner of the shop, and his grin takes over his entire countenance. “And how’s your dad doing now?”

I wince. “He actually died in July.”

“Oh. I’m sorry for your loss.”

My watery smile hopefully conveys my gratitude. “He was ready to go. At least that’s what he told me. And I needed a project after his death to keep me busy while I cleaned out the house and prepared to sell it.”

“Sell it? Why?”

Moving to the next table, I straighten the bars of soap. Wiping a tear from my eye, I answer his question. “Too many memories. I’ve had a lot of loss in my life, and now I’m the only one left in my immediate family. So when I’m in the house, all I can see are the people no longer with me.”

“That must be hard.” His hand rests on my shoulder, and I’m startled because I hadn’t realised he’d approached.

“It’s life. Lucky for me, I have my dreams to keep me going.”

“Dreams of expanding beyond a popup shop at the holidays?”

“Something like that,” I nod.

“Sounds lovely. Listen, I’m done with these shelves, and those over there look pretty good. I, um, straightened them earlier when I was testing the product. Is there a broom so I can sweep up?”

Astonished, I blink at him. “No. No. No. I draw the line at having a number one pop musician sweep my floor.”

He giggles, his laugh growing until he’s slapping his knee, his full body moving with glee as he heartily releases his mirth. “So if I were the number one classical musician or number one jazz musician or number one country musician, you’d be okay with me cleaning the floor?”

Seeing the humour in my comment, I laugh along with him. “Okay. Okay. You’ve found me out. Only pop musicians aren’t allowed to sweep up. Everyone else is fair game.”

Bopping me on the nose, he grins. “Good thing I’m not a number one pop musician tonight. I’m just a customer who is quite taken with your goods.”

And the way he rakes his eyes over my body lets me know that he’s not talking about the merchandise on the shelves.

Dammit. Why don’t I keep a pair of spare knickers in my bag in case I run into the handsomest man alive? Because the ones I’m wearing right now are ruined.

Sticking his head through the curtain and peering into the back, he joyfully exclaims, “There it is!” Seconds later, he’s pushing the broom around the shop floor, and I am both pleased and appalled.

Reluctant to let him do all the work, I watch him and squirm. Using the broom as a partner, he dances to the music, and I can’t help the giggle that escapes.

“I remember when you couldn’t dance at all,” I reveal, then clamp my hands over my mouth at my rudeness.

“Some would say I still can’t.”

“Screw ‘em.” I grin. “Listen, I’m about to count up the money for a night deposit. Are you planning to pay with cash or credit?”

Wincing, he bites his lip, resting his arm on top of the broom handle. “Oh yeah. I was having so much fun that I forgot I was here to shop.” He looks around at the merchandise. “You’re taking me out for dinner, right?” One eyebrow raises while the other stays in place. It’s a talent not many have.

“I believe that was the deal in exchange for your labour.”

“Then let’s eat first. I can tell you about those I need to shop for, and you can decide what would be most fitting for each.”

“Hmmm…” I tease, “Are you trying to get out of buying products from me?”

“Nope,” he grins, stepping closer to me. “Trying to let you get to know me more.”

“Who's to say I don’t already know everything about you?”

“Ah, I see.” The expression on Harry’s face is smug. “You wanna have a quiz? Find out what exactly you know and don’t know?”

“Sure,” I smile, “but somehow I’m not sure I trust you. You could easily say all of my answers are wrong, and I wouldn’t be able to contradict you.”

“Let’s start. What colour are my eyes?”

“Are you taking the piss? They’re green. That one’s easy ‘cause I can see them.”

“Okay, okay. You got one right. What colour are my lips?”

Which of course drags my eyes right to the body part in question. And they look lush. Soft. Slightly chapped, but not enough to keep me from…

Shit. I’ve gotten lost in staring at his lips.

“I didn’t hear your answer.”

My tongue dips out to lick my own lips, and he steps closer, his eyes locked on my tongue. Shaking my head, I dart my gaze back to his eyes, and I can feel his breath on my cheek. Leaning forward, he reaches his arm to my left, and I briefly wonder if he’s going to wrap his arm around my waist and haul me to him for a snogging session.

Which is when he grabs his coat from the counter.

“Let’s count the money so you can make your deposit. I’m getting hungry.”

Really? I'm experiencing a powerful thirst.

Author's note: Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed it, please reblog. I know not everyone reblogs, but it really helps writers out.

READ PART 2 HERE

#harry styles #my writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles reader insert #original writing

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shannonaesthetics · 2 months ago

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(V) Valentin Viljoen Headcanons! (MC X V)

HI HI HEY!!! Shannon here!! During my dreadful midterms, I found myself thinking and writing down some V headcanons that suited him and saved until I had the time to share them. Ofcourse these arent official and mostly my personal interpretation of him but I think they'd suit him! Im starved of V content but Ill feed the fans nonetheless <3 Sorry If this is really messy I never did posts like this before but enjoy nonetheless !

So do you guys know those types of people who look like they're not listening to you whenever youre rambling on about something but to your surprise are actually VERY ATTENTIVE AND EVEN ADD ON??? Like imagine you're going on about something while V is taking care of his animals and you think he's not listening but to your surprise he actually replies? He'd help you find correct words and phrases if you pause :( /pos

At night after a long day he's SO TIRED HE JUST GOES ON AUTOPILOT and stays silent. He wouldn't mind if you kept him company or talk to him but he would only respond via nodding and hums as he leans into you until you fall asleep. Hes never gonna fall asleep first whenever youre talk to him even if he's so tired nuh uh.

I feel like his main love languages would be Words of Affirmation and Acts of services BUT he can initiate physical touch once you're a couple of months into the relationship. Its not gonna be extreme or on the daily but simple gestures like holding your hand and wrapping your arm around his.

Do... you guys think he'd bury his face into your chest or the crook of your neck when he's tired or you both are just laying down together?? EHSBJHFEJGF Not all the time but on special occasions

Hes probably naturally very warm. Hed make a great human heating pad /hj. During winter or cold nights, he'd let you nuzzle into him or wrap yourself around his torso for warmth and pull you in closer if he feels you shivering.

Hes not the type to get mad at people he cares about or just people in general. Hes likely to only get mad at people he deems disgusting or just in general rude or unpleasant. To you, he's very gentle and caring and wont get mad at you no matter what you did. You dropped a plate? He'll make sure you didn't get a cut on your skin and help you clean up. Accidentally let his snakes out? No worries, he'll catch it and put it back in its cage and tell you to be more careful. :3

If you entrust him to keep your belongings safe with him or just forgot your stuff at his place, he'll protect it at all costs. Even if its something small like a notebook or your clothes. He'll take great care of them nonetheless. Same goes for plants and pets, you can trust him to petsit your animals (if you have any) if you're outside. He'll feed them accordingly and make sure they don't run off. If you have plants at your place, he'll ask if you've watered them and will water them for you if you forgot!

He'd let you play with his hair. He'd enjoy it aswell. The sensation of your fingertips as you twirl his hair around your fingers and maybe even try braiding his hair for him <3 He'd love the way you look so focused when doing his hair he cant help but smile...

If you're feeling tired or drowsy, he'd pull you to the couch or bed and let you nap on him for as long as you need. He might even read you a few poems or hum a lullaby so you can relax. Maybe even gently massaging your scalp or any small warm gestures. HE CARES SO MUCH YOU GUYS BFDBJEW

Personal hairdresser O-O? He'd offer to do your hair if its bothering you or you don't feel motivated to take care of it. You want to cut it off? He already has scissors in his hand and asking how short you want it to be. Want to rim your hair? Its already done for ya! He'd let you borrow his shampoo and conditioner too if yours ran out FNJEBGJHEWG

He can read your emotions REALLY well. Its just in his nature, he can read people like an open book. Even through text?! Hes familiar with your texting patterns and how you respond. So if you're having a bad day and it shows in the change of your replies, he'll know and be on full alert. Even if its a slight difference.

I feel like after he met you, he'd name his animals how you call them. If you nicknamed them or suggested a name, he'd stick with it. HE WOULDNT TELL YOU TOO IT WOULD JUST SLIP OUT. You would be on call and you would ask about his animals. "Hows your cat doing?" "Felina? Shes doing alr-" "YOU- you named her..??" "You call her that, no? I thought it might suit her."

When he's tired and eepy... he'd lazily caress your arm or face... Its so precious of him.. His eyelids droop over and his face softens as his fingertips graze over your sides or arms... (On my notebook where I wrote this down, I scribbled mid writing because of how cute it was I couldn't help myself.)

During winter if you feel like you didn't wear enough layers of clothing or just get cold easily, he wont hesitate to take off his coat and drape it over your shoulders for your warmth. If you lost a glove, he'd warm your hand with his, rubbing over the numb skin gently and blowing on it to keep it warm.

WAAA OKAY WOW THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE?? again this is my personal interpretations on how I would they V would act so SO SORRY IF ITS OUT OF CHARACTER FJDBGJEWG I never thought Id be so in love with a character id write headcanons on them. I hope you guys enjoyed and I look forward to writing more sillies!! <3 (Ps; i might soon post a oc x V fic so stay tuned for that <3) -Shan/Shannon!!

#killer chat #killer chat vn #gender neutral reader #headcanon #my headcanons #character headcanons #v killer chat #valentin viljoen #killer chat headcanons

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theapangea · 2 years ago

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Hawkins High Confessions

Characters/Pairings: Steve Harrington x Reader, Billy Hargrove, Robin Buckley

Summary: You accidentally confess your feelings for Steve Harrington in front of the whole school.

Warnings: None, Embarrassment??

A/N: I really really like this fic so I hope you do too!!

Request me anything in my bio <3

Hawkins High.

Home of the Tigers.

The typical middle American high school, stuck in the suburbs, decaying away as the years continue to pass. The weather stained panel ceilings and worn outer bricks hold the next generation of citizens practically begging to not be there.

The bell blares through the speakers of the hallways and courtyard, signaling to all students the beginning of the 7 minute long passing duration to get to first period. Suddenly the school becomes overwhelmed with laughing, shouting, shuffling kids trying to move their way through the cramped, long hallways.

Eyes wandering along the dozens of passing faces that you’ve known for most of your life. You and Robin maneuver your way through the herd of students. Saying your goodbyes before parting ways, counting down the minutes until you can regroup again at lunch.

Strolling your way to the front office, taking up as much of the passing period as possible before your inevitable morning with the one, the only, Billy Hargrove. Your face contorting in disgust at the sheer thought of him.

Hawkins Morning Announcements was not your first choice for extracurriculars. You would have much preferred photography or theater or literally anything else besides having to do this silly little talk with Billy every morning. But you guessed this is what you get for getting caught smoking behind the bleachers. Though the punishment could be worse. The foul taste of Billy sitting by you every morning for 180 days out of the year makes you want to barf.

Well actually has made you barf. Beginning of the semester, right after he tried to kiss you, right into the principal's trash can. Not a pretty sight.

Walking through the open double doors into the front office area, minding your own as you observe your shoelace becoming loose.

And then it hit you.

Stumbling back, your textbooks suddenly falling all over the floor.

He hit you. Your mind racing at the abrupt collision.

“Shit, sorry.” The voice says, just audible enough not to be considered a whisper.

Regaining your balance as you follow his movement to the floor, piling the textbooks and loose papers. Racking a hand through his brown locks as he straightens up, handing you the collection of school supplies.

Steve Harrington hit you.

“Y/N, right?”

Steve Harrington is talking to you.

Nodding your head in affirmation to his question, eyes immediately darting away. You haven’t had much interaction with Steve other than giving him a pencil in math class when he forgets (which is almost every other week) or a quick smile while passing in the halls.

He shoves his hands into his front pockets, rocking back on his heels. His demeanor is friendly, his lips lifting up slightly in the corners. He wasn’t as cold as you had imagined. And oh did you imagine being this close to him often . “I’ve got to go.” He utters after a couple of silent moments, flashing another sweet smile before walking past you.

“Yeah.” You breathe as he is already gone.

Pathetic .

How pathetic can you really be is all you can think. To basically have Steve Harrington standing right in front of you and barely be able to speak a single word to him. Slumping your shoulders as you continue on the way to your final destination.

The chatter filling up the space as the room is full of middle-aged women attending to students and daily duties. Your mind is still floating as Steve Harrington swirls through your thoughts. Turning the handle of the door marked Announcement Studio , flicking the lights on in the enclosed room before placing the messy stack of books in your hands on the table where two microphones and a switchboard station sit on top.

Overhearing giggling coming from the front desk area, you stick your head out to investigate, only to see Billy Hargrove, in all of his unwanted glory, flirting with the office secretary. You really can’t believe these women fall for his act.

You watch as Billy winks to the secretary before walking your way, the light giggles still follow even after he is standing right in front of you. His walk is confident and maybe, just maybe, if you were completely drunk you would give him a chance. But sober you has full control now and doesn’t want anything to do with him.

He is irritating, persistent and overall probably the most annoying person you have ever met. And for some reason he seemed as if he enjoyed sitting in the cramped room with you every morning. Shoulder to shoulder for the first 10 mins of the school day.

Leaning against the door frame as he passes you. Walking closer than he should have been, pressing your back against the cold metal that seeps through your shirt. The heat radiating from his body, your noses almost touching

“You love me.” He whispers, his breath of pure cigarettes. His mouth pulled into his annoying signature smirk.

“Let’s just get this over with before I barf… again .” Your voice follows him into the room. Plopping into his designated seat while pulling your seat open for you. His arm finding its final resting place along the back.

“ Baby ,” the words falling so easily from his lips, “how about you just stop with this whole act of you not liking me and we go take a trip out to my car after this little party.” His pointer finger waving in the air as if he is trying to cast a spell on you. You smile and then laugh. Really having to hold in any amusement that you were having at Billy trying to make advances at you again .

Sitting down in the empty seat, prepping the switch board and microphones as the seconds grow closer to morning broadcast across the school.

“You’re killing me.” His head tilts back, the subtle whine in his tone as the word drags, echoing more in the small room. “Come on, you know you want me.” His fingers play with the ends of your hair that fall down your back.

“That’s definitely a negative.” You shake your hair, wiggling out of his grasp.

“Fine then who do you like?” He crosses his arms over his chest. Puffing that his usual tricks weren’t working on you.

You straighten up at his words, side eyeing as he watches, “None of your business.” You freeze for a moment, just a moment , hoping that it wasn’t long enough for him to tell.

Oh but he did . He can tell how anxious you got over the little question. Could tell how you swallowed abruptly, your brain going a hundred miles per hour trying to think of a good answer. Any answer to get him off of your case. Leaning forward, his head resting on his knuckles as his elbow rests on his knee. Studying your face. “Tommy Hagan.”

“What?”

“The guy you like, Tommy Hagan.” He sounds almost proud of himself.

You’re now looking directly at him. “ Ew , gross. No.”

“Patrick…” He stops to think for a moment, snapping his fingers hoping that will somehow make him remember, “Patrick Wright.” His pointer finger aimed in your direction.

“No.”

Then it was as if a light bulb had switched.

“Steve Harrington.”

“Ok we’re so not doing this.” You basically snap, fixing the pieces of paper with the announcement script in front of you.

“So you do like Harrington.” He laughs. Laughs . At you for liking Steve. How could he laugh? How could he not realize that before his sorry ass got to Hawkins that literally every girl would pay anything to sleep with Steve.

“I-never-said-that.” You say right away. Barely any breath between your words.

“You didn’t have too.” The melody of his words string your lies together.

“Shut up,” was all the comeback that you could think of.

Billy leans in close, “Just admit it.” Grabbing one of the microphones to plug it in. Adjusting it to side perfection by his mouth.

“I will not,” speaking through your teeth.

“Can’t say he’s my particular taste.”

“Well no one asked you, did they?” Rolling your eyes.

The bell blares again through the now empty hallways. The hundreds of students packed neatly within the closed classrooms.

Steve finds his normal seat in the back of the full class. Sliding into his desk as he lets his backpack hit the floor. His fingers lightly tap against the wooden desk as he glances at the clock.

Another dreaded Monday morning. His tired eyes fall heavily as the conversion between the two of you fades quickly. The chattering of the students falls silent as the intercom comes to life. The static filling the classroom before Billy’s voice plays throughout the school.

Billy: Good Morning Hawkins High. It looks like it’s going to be a great day in paradise. Please stand for the Pledge of Allegiance.

The class of students stand, lazily placing hands over their hearts as they all face the flag near the door. The groggy voices follow along to yours and Billy’s voices.

You and Billy: I pledge of Allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and to the republic for which it stands. One nation, under God, individual with liberty and justice for all.

You: You may now be seated.

The students shuffle back into their desk. The squeaking sound of the metal stoppers against the panel flooring sounding through the small room.

You: This is a very special week for Hawkins as the winter formal is just around the corner, do you know who you’re asking yet?

Billy: I sure know who I’m going to ask. Say, Y/N, any idea on who you’re going with.

You: I guess it’s still too far out to know yet, Billy.

Billy: I can surely think of someone who should ask you.

Kicking him instantly after his comment. The words shut up following just under your breath before you continue.

You: Principle Coleman wanted us to remind you all to remember to throw away all your trash in the yard after lunch.

You and Billy: Let’s keep this school clean!

Billy: We also want to give it up to the Tiger’s Basketball Team for a great game last Friday. Though we lost 3-7, it was still a great game.

You: I agree with Billy. Our Tigers are not ones to miss.

Billy: Especially a certain player.

The inaudible words of I am going to kill you towards Billy fall from your lips. The speakers hold the moment of silence as the hundreds of kids can hear some kind of commotion on the other end.

You: Well that’s all the news for today.

Billy: We hope you have a great day Hawkins High

You: I’m Y/N Y/L/N

Billy: And I’m Billy Hargrove,

You and Billy: Signing out. Go Tigers!

The static immediately disappears as the switch is turned off.

The teacher stands from his deck, chalk in hand as he begins to write on the board. The class settling in for another uneventful history lesson. This was definitely not going to help Steve stay awake.

But just as the words of some war were leaving the teacher’s mouth, the intercom comes to life. The static quickly fading as Billy’s voice fills the hallways and classrooms once again.

Billy: Ok, seriously just admit it.

Dozens of students are looking between each other trying to figure out what is going on.

You: Admit what?

Billy: That you like Steve Harrington and maybe I’ll leave you alone.

The class practically gasps in union as all students, including the teacher, turn to look at Steve in the back of the classroom. His face washes white, hues of soft red forming on his cheeks as he sinks lower into the plastic seat.

And as much as he was embarrassed by the whole interaction, he had to admit that he was a little bit curious. He hadn’t talked to you much in the past but he couldn’t say that he didn’t at least find you a little attractive.

You: I’m not going to admit anything if it isn’t true.

Billy: Baby, It’s just you and me here. No one's gonna know outside this room.

You: Ugh, fine.

There is a pause. The entire school on the edge of their seats as they wait for the next words to come out of your mouth

You: Yeah, I like Steve Harrington.

—

“Happy?” You question. Almost happy yourself to finally get that secret off of your chest, even if it was to someone you despise.

But before Billy could answer, the door frantically flies open to showcase a heaving Robin. Her face bright red, her body heaving from the loss of breath as she points towards the dashboard.

Following her pointer finger across the room to the small table where the dashboard sat. Realizing then that the small red light signaling that your microphones were on. The small red light signaling that the private conversation that you and Billy just had was broadcasted across the entire school.

The color in your face completely washing away at your realization that Steve just heard your confession.

“More than ecstatic.” Billy’s grin overcomes his face, his teasing laugh playing in your ears.

And all you could think about at this moment is Oh shit.

~~~

Part 2???? Let me know what you think!

#Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington fanfic #Billy Hargrove x reader #Stranger Things x reader #Reader insert #Stranger things #Robin Buckley #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x fem #Hawkins High Confessions #Theapangea

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gothushi · 7 months ago

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thinking about a Luke who drops off the face of the planet after he loses his eye. He only speaks to you, his parents, and his doctor. It stays like that for years until people eventually forget the name Luke Davenport, and he starts integrating back into society. You and him are at the shops one day and he gets a little tug on his coat from a kid who asks if he’s *really* Luke Davenport and Luke looks down and sees that this kid is wearing a football jersey and has a patch over one eye.

im gonna be sick this is so twisted of you to think of. how could you.

he’s older now, (im picturing almost more simon like look wise) and has had a really hard time even just going out now, but u help so much. he wears a prosthetic eye, has to use eye drops daily, has a routine down of how he has to live his life now. he wallowed for a bit, how could this happen to me, this isn’t fair, resented his father for quite a while, but he slowly came out of it through the last few years with ur support. he’s ur luke, u love him no matter what.

so he’s sticking close to u in the shops, watching u pick out a couple clothing items and giving his quiet opinion. ur both oblivious to the family in the distance, if either of u were paying more attention u’d hear some little boy ‘is that him?!’ ‘can i go say hi?’ ‘pleeease?’ but u both just hear tuned out whining.

so when ur putting smth else in the cart, luke gets a tug on his shirt. he turns, a bit startled, surprised to see a little boy with a football jersey with blue and red colors, a little patch over his eye with a football on it.

“are u luke davenport?”

he’s stunned, i mean these days he kinda forgets his own name, years of being followed by papp’s and doing interviews and press far in the distance, he hasn’t heard many people say his name since then. it takes him a second, and he almost considers lying, but he manages a little nod to affirm yes, he is indeed luke davenport.

the boy gets so excited, jumps up and down, ‘could i have an autograph on my jersey!? ur so cool!’ the boys parents are coming over, seeing their son getting a bit too excited for a public space and starting to apologize.

but.. but something aches in lukes chest, some physical reaction that has his throat tightening. he shakes his head and mutters that it’s okay, don’t be sorry, hi, i don’t have a pen. the boys whipping one out already, having dug into his moms purse for it. ur admiring from afar, keeping a keen eye on how luke handles this. i mean, it’s been almost four years since he’s even signed something other than medical paperwork.

this little kid is so happy, u’d think he just won a lifetime supply of candy or toys. luke kneels down to his height, signs the back of his shirt, and listens to the boy talk about how his daddy showed him old games from harchester, even from barcelona, and that he wants to be a football player when he grows up. luke doesn’t even mention the eyepatch the kids got on, some bittersweet feeling burning in his heart. the kids mother chimes in softly about her sons issue, something to do with losing partial sight in his eye, but they caught it early.

the kid asks about why luke stopped playing, he isn’t observant enough to notice the slightly off color of blue in his left eye. and to ur surprise, luke taps under his eye and says it isn’t his, he had a bad accident and couldn’t play anymore. the boy’s all sad, asking too many questions that makes his dad squat down behind him because he’s getting fussy. explaining to his son that luke doesn’t have the same eyesight others do, just like u. the kid doesn’t fully get it though, obviously, and wants to know more but luke stands and offers a polite thank u and reassurance that it’s okay.

the parents usher the boy along, all the while he’s waving at luke and saying bye. u step back in, offering to go home but luke says he just wants to go wait in the car while u finish up.

at home, luke wails to u about how he misses it, misses football, missing being there and feeling the excitement. he swore after his accident he’d never associate with it again, never, but the next day ur sipping at ur coffee and figuring out what he needs to do to get into coaching.

#dream team luke davenport #luke davenport #luke davenport x reader

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itscamile222 · 26 days ago

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Hi, how are you? I hope you're doing well!

How can I not confuse LOA with daydreaming?

I often see people saying, "The only reality is imagination, but daydreaming is fantasy," and it makes me VERY confused. This makes me extremely anxious because I don’t really understand this phrase, you know? 😕

I’ve been imagining my SP a lot, but I don’t know if it’s just fantasy or something like that. Sorry if it was confusing to understand...

Thank you in advance! ☺️

hii honey 💕 i’m wonderful thank youu

Okay so you asked me how not to confuse daydreaming and LOA. The thing is, they are two completely different things.

LOA (Law of Assumption) says your beliefs and assumptions shape your reality. What you believe to be true, it will manifest in your reality.

To use LOA in your favor you have two main tools: Affirmations and imagination. Neville Goddard had a formula to use imagination as a tool for manifestation with LOA. Explaining briefly, is getting into a sleeping-like state and imagine a situation that would happen with your ‘wish’ fulfilled, in first person, as many details as possible and using your senses, feeling like you are actually in that scenario now and here, and not only observing. Repeating all daily.

So, using imagination consciously as a tool (with all the features I mentioned previously) is visualisation.

Daydreaming, is when you let your mind wander. You’re not trying to control your thoughts, usually getting lost in them.

There’s the difference between them. Both daydreaming and visualization imply imagination, but while one is absorbing the other absorbs you. One you control it, the other rather controls you.

Hope this helped you 💞

#loa #loassumption #loa tumblr #loablr #loa blog #reality shifting #shifting blog #shifting antis dni #reality shifter #4d reality #neville goddard #shifting community #imagine #imagination #visualisation #asks

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cloudycleric · 10 months ago

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hi Ollie! just wanna start by saying I love your channel. your favorite video of mine is the one where you were talking about how you think Will Byers has autism.

you said that you have autism but you were misdiagnosed first and that you thought you couldn't have autism because you had already been told that you don't have it. I was wondering what made you get diagnosed when you'd already been told that you don't have it.

I went to get diagnosed a few months ago but was told that I don't have it. I'm only asking because I genuinely think that I have autism and that it was a misdiagnosis. any advice? also you dont have to answer if its like too personal or something. sorry if its confusing and doesn't make a lot of sense.

also here's a picture of byler kissing to hopefully make your day better! <3

hi hello !!!

thank you for the picture i lobe it!

as for why i decided to retest for autism—

it kinda just… worked out. the more that i thought about it after my first testing came back negative, the more that i realized that i was in fact autistic, & some of the things in document that said i wasn’t autistic were objectively untrue & my mom noticed, too.

that was not fault to the tester, she was lovely, it’s just that a lot of testers only really know how to diagnose traditional autism in amab people. with being afab, or even trans, autism can present itself differently. i know there’s haha jokes about girl & boy autism but, there is some objective truth there. it also doesn’t help testers who have a more deep understanding of the ‘traditional’ autism that people who are afab or trans or whatever have a way better time hiding or masking their autism. i’d say, when deciding to retest, really examine whether or not you feel your are masking.

anywho, back to the story—

my therapist’s office has a child psychologist who specialized in therapy for lgbtq+ youth & occasionally did screenings for things like adhd, autism, among other disorders & neurodivergent stuffs. she was amazing, she was able to work directly with my therapist on parts of the tests & for professional input, as well as used a more friendly test based on experience as a person, not as whether or not you check boxes or act a certain way during certain testing sessions.

the tests it took were the Behavior Rating Inventory of Executive Functioning, Second Edition (BRIEF-2), Self-and Parent-Reports & Monteiro Interview Guidelines for Diagnosing the Autism Spectrum, Second Edition (MIGDAS-2), which the psychologist described as much more “affirming” & “validating”. by the end of the session she told me, “i usually don’t immediately say this to clients, but you are very obviously autistic.”

getting that diagnosis was really good because it made people FINALLY start believing me when i said i was autistic. i’ve also noticed that it’s easier for me to de-mask now because i feel like the people around me now know why i act the way i do.

anywho, that’s my story! like i said, i would just really investigate whether or not you felt like the tester had an inaccurate view of you & if you were masking/how much masking you do on a daily basis.

I HOPE THIS HELPS!!!

#asks #actually autistic #autism #autism!#autistic

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poopwons · 1 year ago

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Thinking about Artist!Jean being just the SWEETEST boyfriend when his girl isn’t feeling herself. 😭😭

Modern Au, Fluff, fem reader, No use of y/n, this is purely self indulgent, and my first ever fic I’m actually posting, sorry if it’s bad writing 💀

TW: anxious thoughts, insecurities, reader doesn’t feel good enough, I think that’s all??

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You come into the apartment in a huff, putting your things down and going to the fridge to get some water.

“Hey,” Jean starts, as he walks into the kitchen from his studio down the hall, before he stops and takes in your expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Just had a bad day,” you say, not really wanting to go into all of it, all your insecurities and the anxiety you’ve dealt with throughout today.

None of your clothes fit the way you wanted them to, making you feel like nothing you put on looked even remotely good. You were sporting an acne break out from stress? Hormones? Who fucking knows, but it’s annoying. The fact that in every window you walked by today, you saw your reflection and just felt…not pretty enough. And you do all of the things your therapist recommends when you’re feeling low like this, you’ve been working out, eating right, trying to drink more water. Not to mention the affirmations you had scribbled on your mirror in the bathroom. But some days, the irrational side of your brain wins out. Today you could not see past any of the things you don’t like about yourself. You weren’t able to view the whole picture and instead focused on the small flaws. Even going to lunch with your friends was discouraging, watching them all sport smiles and feel confident in themselves. It seemed effortless for them. And nothing ever felt effortless for you. You felt like you had to work so hard to even feel some semblance of the confidence your friends exude daily.

“What happened?” Jean asks, coming around the counter, wrapping his big arms around you pressing a kiss to the top of your head before moving down to your lips. “Do I need to beat somebody up?”

“Not unless you wanna beat up your own girlfriend.”

“Mm. That kind of bad day, huh?” He says softly, tilting your head to look at him before he kisses you again.

Jean knows about your struggles, you’ve been together for a while now, so it would have been impossible for him not to notice. He tries to do the most for you when it gets like this. He knows you can’t help it, that it tends to come in waves. You’ve been stressed at work lately and that usually bleeds into your anxiety.

“Come here, Pretty.” He says, pulling you by your hand to lead you to the couch, sitting you down and getting the blanket off the back to wrap it around you. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He turns to go back to his studio, but not before turning on your usual comfort show for you.

He comes back into the living room and sits down with you, sketchbook and pencil in hand.

“You don’t have to work out here.. I know you have a deadline.” You say softly from your spot on the couch, not wanting to distract him from his work just because you had a bad day.

“I got that piece done already, this is something different. It’s not work, so I’m gonna sit with you. Besides, I haven’t seen you all day.” He says leaning over to press another quick kiss to your lips, before leaning with his back on the arm of the couch, knees up with his sketch book pressed to them.

It’s pretty normal for Jean to draw in his free time when he’s not working on commissions for clients. It’s his chance to work on stuff he actually likes and lets him get more creative without the constraints of a clients wishes. You turn your attention back to the show, finding comfort in this cute little routine you two have. The warmth of his body next to yours while he scribbles on his page, the faint sound of the pencil scratching the paper, when the two of you get time like this everything else in the world kind of drowns out.

While half your brain is still going on and on about the ways you’re not good enough and ways you could improve, you try to focus on the show, trying to ignore all those other thoughts. You laugh at a part you’ve seen probably a hundred times, but you still find it just as funny as the first time. You glance over at Jean who’s smiling down at his paper, his eyes flitting between the tv and the paper. He doesn’t normally show you his free time stuff until it’s finished, so you don’t bother asking him what he’s working on, knowing that you’ll find out eventually.

The two of you sit like that for a couple hours, just enjoying being in each others company, chatting idly about the show and some stuff the two of you have going on over the weekend. After a few more moments, Jean shifts again, sitting closer to you, his sketch book splayed open to the page he was working on as he puts his arm around you. When you finally glance down at it, a look of surprise spreads across your face.

“Is that..me?” You ask softly, taking the book in your hands to examine the drawing further.

Jean simply nods, offering you a small mumble of affirmation with a little grin on his lips. As you look over the paper you see how he’s drawn you, plush lips turned up into a wide grin, you’re laughing. Your eyes are bright and you look..happy, your hair is in beautiful waves, no frizz in sight. There’s another small drawing in the corner of the page, it looks like he’s just drawn your eyes alone, shining and bright. It hits you then that when he lifted his head up from the page earlier, he hadn’t been watching the tv, he’d been looking at you.

Taking the book you look at the front cover and realize that this isn’t his usual sketch book. You flip to the front of the book and go through the pages, as you flip through it you have to fight back the tears that well in your eyes. Every page, is filled with you, sketches, drawings, some with color some without. Some pages are just studies of your features where he was trying to get your smile right, or your eyes. Some of them are full body drawings, and you recognize your own clothes, days when you’d send him selfies of your outfits with a big happy smile.

You look over at him with a soft smile, “what is this?”

He leans over and presses a kiss to your temple. “It’s you, baby. Whenever I’m having an art block or can’t think of what I want to draw, I just..draw you.”

“You drew me so pretty..”

“You are pretty. More than pretty.” He says, leaning into you to press another kiss to your temple, resting his head against yours. “Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I thought about it when you came home and said you felt bad, that I wished you could see yourself the way I do. I thought, maybe I should just show you.”

You continue flipping through the pages, they aren’t all happy drawings. Some of them are clearly from some times when you weren’t feeling your best, but even in the ones where you have a sad expression, or tears in your eyes, he still drew you beautifully. Even when you felt your worst he still thought you were beautiful.

“Thank you…for this.” You say softly, turning towards him to softly kiss his lips, setting the sketchbook down on the table and pulling yourself into his lap to wrap your arms around him.

“Just drawing what I see, nothing else.” He murmurs as he buries his face into your neck, pressing a kiss there before holding you tightly.

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✨I want this man so bad, that is all.✨

Thanks for reading!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰

#jean kirstein #jean x reader #aot fanfiction #fanfic #aot x you #jean x y/n #jean x you #aot headcanons #jean kirschtein headcanons #jean kirschtein fluff #jean kirschstein x reader #aot fluff

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slashingdisneypasta · 2 years ago

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MultiVillains x Reader || Drabbles

Plots / Includes: These are each inspired by texts from the Unsent Project- so this is gonna be heartbreaking 😅 . Enjoy XD

(Also- the ratings at the end of the blurbs is how upsetting it is at least in my opinion, for your convenience XD 😅 0 is happy, 5 is sad, 10 is dark. Remember these are my opinions so take them with a grain of salt and proceed cautiously if you think anything will trigger you ^^ I'm just trying this out)

Bo Sinclair x ChildhoodSweetheart!Reader- whatever happen to us, remember that i always loved you and always will. Your parting words to your childhood sweetheart before you leave town. || 6-7 1/2 out of 10

Captain Hook x Reader- i don’t hate you. i’m sorry it ended how it did. An affirming moment between two people who used to love each other. || 4-5 out of 10

Cruella De Vil x Model!Reader- you did a damn good job of hurting me, but not good enough i’m healing. You call her up and say some things that satisfying your fricken soul. || 8-9 out of 10 (its angry)

Hades x Reader- even when I get over you and all that you’ve done for me, i’ll never forget the happiness. This one’s about an ex-lover of the lord of the dead who, if you asked, would never say a bad thing about him. And how he responds. || 2-3 out of 10

Inkubus x Reader- if you had said something earlier it would have been you. He finally admits he really wants you which is all you’ve wanted for the last 5 years but its awful because its too late and you cant do this with him now. || 6-7 out of 10

Laughing Jack x Reader- i hope you can forgive me one day. i’m sorry i didn’t say goodbye when u left. i love you. These are the words L.J wishes he could send you, but that part of him that can admit those things out loud died a long time ago. || 5-6 out of 10

Wheezy Weasel x Reader- the universe keeps putting us in the same place at the same time and you still refuse to come to me. Wheezy is sick and tired of letting you leave every time you two find your ways back to eachother so he lays it all out on the table for you. || 5!!! out of 10

Warnings: Heartbreak and angst throughout. But also mentions of Mr and Mrs Sinclair (Neglect and abusive parenting), break ups, past break ups, caring about eachother but not getting back together, kind of psychotic reader in Cruella’s, being in mutual love but not being together, death of reader, gratuitous swearing, inner struggles, L.J struggling with his emotional trauma, break ups, immoveable objects, etc. Also unedited.

Bo Sinclair: whatever happen to us, remember that i always loved you and always will

Bo always had a deficiency in love- his parents never truly loved him and in a house like that you learn to protect yourself. You have to learn to protect yourself so your heart doesn’t break daily. You could tell this was in him, or it wasn’t in him, from the moment you met Bo when the two of you were 5. He just had that… air. And little five-year-old you, in overalls and mud, felt for him.

Since then, you did everything you could to make him feel loved, because honestly? From the second moment you met him he was. Sure, at first it was just puppy love; A little kid looking at another little kid and thinking he would look perfect next to a picket fence walking a cute dog, or in a church holding your hand. Despite that it was more then enough fodder to build a lifelong relationship from, developing rapidly over the years from being sandbox buddies to sneaking out of your window at night after a fight with your parents just to spend the night in his truck with him. To making out behind school for the first time and ending up with a kissing rash you hid by staying home for days. To him inviting you to prom. At 16 the two of you were the steadiest couple in town. And you were right when you were a kid- he would look good in a church holding your hand, now.

… Your heart still pangs like hell in your chest when you even just remember that that is never going to happen, though.

Because you cant stay and he cant leave.

He’s never going to walk that dog (Skippy you’d named it in your head over the years, after the peanut butter Bo liked) by that damn picket fence you would’ve taken such good care of. You would never get married, though it felt something like torture inside knowing that you two would not share a future at all.

Bo always had a deficiency in love- it came from his parents and you tried like hell to put him back together but looking at him now, your bags in the backseat and the drivers side of your car open, waiting for you… and him standing there all sweet and charismatic, like he’s not bothered by this when he raged last night in the darkness of your back yard… you can see it never really got fixed. Nothing you can do could ever repair what they broke. And it destroys you inside.

Sniffing, you carefully lay your hands on his shoulders just to feel him a last time, maybe commit him to memory. The darkness over his eyes from the baseball cap on his head hides the dark look inside him that you saw last night. You give him a serious look, nudging your forehead against the rim of his hat. You take a deep breath in, for saying goodbye with-

-He immediately shakes his head, leaning back from you. “Don’t say it.”

“Bo- “

“Naww, don’t say it.” Theres a good-humoured smirk on his face but the tone in his voice is not joking. He’s not joking. “Y’can still stay. C’mon, I’ll help you unpack- “

“Bo,” You start again, insisting and closing the space between you two again. Persistently, you catch his eye before speaking again, waiting until he’s still and he’s paying attention.

… Then you take another deep breath and lean your forehead softly against the rim of his hat, this time. “Whatever happens to us- I need you to know-… I always loved you, and always will.”

Then you squeeze your eyes shut, squeeze your fingers into his shoulders one last time, and then break away into the car.

Captain Hook: i don’t hate you. i’m sorry it ended how it did

Of all the things to see outside your window at night, this had to be one of the most surprising. Sure, its true that he used to visit you at your window every night, you would leave the window open for him, but its been years since then and now the window is closed and latched. And yet, he’s here.

Even so, you move forward a moment after you see him and unlock the window for him once again- then step back and wrap your dressing gown tightly around your body; eyes wide as they flicker up and down his body. “Is everything okay??- “

“Everything is fine, my dear.” A terrible pang rings throughout your chest at him calling you that, a twisted echo of the reaction you used to have to his pet name for you. A lot can change in 3 years, you suppose… but that doesn’t mean you like it. “I just… I wished to… ask you something.”

This experience is almost surreal, for you. Dreamy. Having Hook turn up at your window again after all this time has been a dream - no, nightmare, - for you since you said goodbye; You imagined all the things he might say, the way he might beg for you back and the way he might come back just to have a last word with you… you were never sure which was worse. Whether you hate them or still care about them, its always awful when your ex comes back. Its always painful.

You’re not quite sure which one this is. Looking warily at him, you arms crossed over your chest, you feel the cold air coming in from around him on your face and shake your head “… Why don’t you come inside?”

“… thank you, but no.”

“Why not??”

“I don’t think I’ll be staying for long, to be frank. Can I ask my question now, dear?”

“I… “Taking a deep breath in to strengthen yourself, you nod. “I suppose. Go ahead… “

Something in his face shifts then, something vulnerable appears. “Well I.. I- I’ve been thinking lately, about our time together. I had a dream, and… “ His eyes flicker away from yours for a moment, and you know he had dream like yours. You sympathise, but sympathy is a dangerous game and you can’t fall back into old feelings for him- it would be too much, having to start again from the beginning getting over him. So you fold your arms tighter and lift your chin, holding it in when he looks at you again. “And I couldn’t get it out of my head. Smee, that… blundering fool… suggested I come here and ask you myself, so- I- I just have to know, my dear… do you harbour any ill-feelings towards me, still? I know that we ended things and it was unpleasant but I would really regret it if… if you hated me, for anything I said at that time.”

At this you cant help it, your expression immediately softens and your arms loosen against your chest almost entirely. You feel bad for him. And you would never want him to ever think that.

You??? Hating him?????

You couldn’t.

“No… no no no- I- I could never- “ God, you’re a blubbering idiot. Taking a deep breath to calm down and possibly manage a complete sentence, you start again. “… I don’t hate you. I’m sorry for how it ended.”

The two of you just look at eachother, then. Searching eachothers faces for any of the malice that you remember from those last weeks- it wasn’t that you suddenly disliked each other though, it just… some things… sometimes two people aren’t meant to be for that long.

And thankfully, its not there.

A warm smile crinkles the corners of Hooks eyes, and he nods. “As am I.”

Cruella De Vil: you did a damn good job of hurting me, but not good enough i’m healing

“Arghhhh!” The frustrated scream is muffled by the pillow you have pressed against your face but its still loud, and you don’t feel better afterwards when you pull your warm face away from the pillow and force a deep breath. When that doesn’t work either you stand up, throw the pillow on the floor and stomp down on it.

Its childish, you know. But you are pissed.

Not only did she just stop answering your calls, stop looking at you at work, stop asking for your presence - like it was some switch!, - , but now she’s fired you!??

This. Bitch.

“How the fuck could she do this??” You hiss, storming to one side of your little studio apartment- then whipping around storming to the other side. “I am the face of that stupid fucking company!” With that, you snatch up a cushion from the couch this time on your way across the room. Its one she gave you, made of precious fur so she wouldn’t have to totally slum it in your apartment the rare times that she visited. You stop and stare at it for a few moments, fury bubbling and rising inside you at the sight of the stiff, uncomfortable black-and-white thing before you finally whip around again and go to your desk. There you grab a pair of scissors and stab them into the ugly thing.

That feels good. So you rip the scissors out again and cut a sizeable chunk out of one of the corners.

It cuts surprisingly easily and you sit down for a few minutes at your desk just cutting away at it until all you have now is a pile of feathers and fur. When its finished, you’re a little calmer and pick up your polaroid camera from the very edge of your desk. Snap!

“Hmmm,” You smirk, shaking out the polaroid until it shows the picture. “Cruella will appreciate this nailed to her office door I think… god I sound like a psycho… “For a moment, you consider chopping up the photograph, instead- but instead just shrug. “Honestly oh-fucking-well.“

Cruella made you this way. She can reap the rewards.

“… fucking hell… “As you sit by the ex-cushion and its innards, you feel an almost sadness looking at it. You remember how she bought in the first place, yes to jazz up your home a little bit so she doesn’t feel uncomfortable in the low-rent district,… but also so she could be there when you were sick that one time. That was shockingly warm, of her. You thought after that, that she actually cared about you.

Then your face goes sour again, anger licking at your heart like flames. Because despite that, she did this to you. Somewhere between then, and now, she decided that you weren’t in fact worth it. She changed her mind. Like you were an option on the fucking menu.

Slamming the scissors down on the desk and dropping the polaroid, you stalk across the room back to your bed. You throw pillows off of it until you find your cell phone, that she gave you, and punch in the numbers that would get you her.

When the ringing stops and the line clears, and you can hear her breath in to say something, you immediately speak first. As far as you are concerned- she has nothing to say. “How dare you- I am a supermodel you heinous, ice cold, disgusting old freak. Your company is going to crumble without me to wear your rags and you’ll- ughh! You’ll- “ What? She’ll regret this? She’ll miss you? She’ll want you back? You know in your heart that none of that will happen. And it kills you. “Agh! I’ll- I’ll find something better. I’ll be much happier working for- being with, someone else. I promise.” Are you promising her, or yourself??? Either way this screeching has calmed you down some, and now you’re just standing there with one hand on your hip, breathing carefully. “… you know what? You hurt me real bad, Cruella, you did a fantastic job. But not good enough- I’m gonna heal.” As soon as you say it you know its true, and a semblance of sanity returns to your mind.

Then you hang up and, for good measure, you throw the cell phone at a wall with all your might- smashing it into pieces.

Hades: even when I get over you and all that you’ve done for me, i’ll never forget the happiness

“Even when I get over this and you and everything we had- I’ll never forget how happy you made me.” Those would be your last words to him. Those were perfect, you thought. He needed to know that despite this not working between you both anymore, that he would still never be a villain in your life. A lot of people make those assumptions about him and just because you were finished, you would never revert to being on of them. He made you happy for a long time when you thought you wouldn’t be that again and that will never be erased by anything. Not to you.

So, giving one final teary smile, you then turned around and walked away.

Its many many years later when you see eachother again. You’re much, much older now and your heart stopped beating. He meets you at the gate, not something he does with just everyone, and he smirks at you just like he used to.

Its nice, that he still looks at you the same now as he did back then. It makes you feel warm inside, despite being dead.

“So… welcome back.” Are the first words he says to you in so long, and you give a warm smile in response. Sure, you should be scared… you’re dead… but looking at him, you just can’t be. “How bout I show you to your bunk for the next eon?”

Nodding yes, you follow him nervously past the gates and past the river styx. You’re surprised, walking by that- aren’t you going in there?? You thought you would… But Hades keeps moving, not looking back as he leads you deeper into the Underworld. Past the throne room you’re familiar with, past a big iron door with Asphodel Meadows indented into it… to a similar door with Elysium on it. Your eyes widen, stepping back- but Hades’ smoke creates a barrier behind you so you cant get away. It gathers against your back and softly nudge you forward again.

There’s no way- you don’t deserve-

“Uh uh uh… not so fast, babe, you belong here. Look- “ Hades speaks and your wide-eyed attention is immediately on him again, waiting for a good explanation for this. You never in your wildest dreams thought you would ever end up- “I know when our thing ended I was aaa… lets say a little cold. But- I need you to know that wasn’t because I didn’t like you anymore. Babe, damn, you’re still my favourite mortal. And… “The odd, unfamiliar, empathetic look on his face transforms once more to a smirk now. “I heard all the nice things you’ve been sayin’ about me all these years. Remember, I got ears everywhere.”

Oh- well- you’re about to say something, but a smoke tendril wraps itself around your mouth. Hades holds up a finger. “Not just yet. I just wanted to show my gratitude and… “He pushes the door open, which creaks from absolute lack of use over the years, and what’s you see inside is beyond your wildest daydreams. There is absolutely no way he is sending you in there- “Welcome to your final resting place, sweetheart. You like?”

The smoke all over you slips away, then, you’re free. And without thinking, you step towards the doorway.

Its beautiful… and you can’t wait to be there. Is he really sending you there??? Glancing at him, he nods and you look back at Elysium. You take another step, putting your hand gently on the inside doorhandle.

Elysium. You can’t believe it.

“Y/N- “

“Hades,” You finally speak, turning to him before you just go and step inside without saying a word to him. If you did that, you would regret it forever. When he looks back at you, you give a gentle shrug. “I promised, Hades.”

This grin on his face now, is genuine. He loves you- he is always going to love you. This is the reason you couldn’t stay together, because one day you would die and it would be too hard on him. You’re so sorry that the separation changed nothing… but a small, selfish part of you is glad he still loves you too.

… But instead of saying that, making this harder on him, you just give another warm smile, a thank you, and then turn around and walk away.

Inkubus: if you had said something earlier it would have been you

You are literally looking at him in horror. You didn’t think before this that anyone in real life would truly have the power to horrify you to this degree, but he has done it. Honestly if anyone could, you’re not surprised it was him, but you do wish he would shut up now.

By the time he’s finished your eyes are downcast, you can’t even look at him. He comes back for the first time after a year and… and this!? 5 minutes ago the last thing he said to you was I’m going away for a little while, watch my plants and now its I shouldn’t have left like that. I’m in love with you???

You have no clue how to respond. You want to tell him to leave now, you want to say get fucked, how dare you, you want to slam the door closed so hard the walls shake and crumble, you actually pray for a hole to open up under you and take you away to somewhere where he isn’t looking at you anymore.

“Uhh… “Eyes flickering up towards the porch light to keep your eyes dry, you delicately cross your arms around your stomach and then tighten them there. Then you take a deep breath, and look square at him- you hope he scan see the rage and the hurt in them. You wish it would make him step away, back down, apologise. “So a year ago… when I said to you… if you think you’ll ever want me back then tell me now… were you listening??”

He senses the absolute storm in you but he doesn’t step away, or back down, or apologise. He takes a step forward, reaching out for you. “I always listen to you- “

“Oh-” Fiercely rolling your eyes, you twist away from him and pull your hand up and out of his reach. He always listens to you?? “Because I was asking you that because I needed to know, if I should let go of any dumb hope that the man I wanted would actually ever actually love me back, or if I should wait- because I would’ve waited. I really would’ve… “Looking at him now, you remember that part for definite. You loved him, you wanted him, you would’ve waited… however long, he needed. “Do you remember what you said, Inkubus?? It was important, so you should remember it. You better.”

You watch him and see the very moment the memory flickers through his head; The wince that follows… you almost feel the regret that must burn in his chest. “I said- “The sharp look in your eyes makes him stop. You do not want to hear them again. “I see… “

“Yeah.”

“I don’t suppose I could make it up to you, for that grievous mistake on my part?”

Here was the man you wanted so badly for the past 5 years, finally finally begging for you- actually begging. You know if you only said yes, just closed the door behind you and nodded he would grin at you and your insides would turn to goop, he’d kiss you just the way you imagined - and damn it did you imagine. Which is just wasted time, now, - and he would take it from there. It would be so easy to do. You might even be happy with the decision…

But then you take a deep breath and look away from him. Remember how he left and you had pick up your pieces and do this fucking thing on your own.

So, no. No.

You can’t.

Now your voice has lost all the unrestrained venom from before, all the anger, and you’re just tired and sad. “If you had said something earlier… “ God, it would have been so different… “But no. No. Its too late.”

“Y/N- “

You close the door.

Laughing Jack: i hope you can forgive me one day. i’m sorry i didn’t say goodbye when u left. i love you

L.J’s POV

“Just send it.” I growl, an almost feral edge to my tone that I cant say I’m fully proud of. “Put. It. In. It’s just a bloody letter Jack. Now!- “

The letter nearly slips into the slot this time, but I see Y/N’s face in my head for a moment, just a moment, and they’re pretty as ever but they’re reading the letter. They’re reading the letter, finishing it, and then setting it aside. They do not respond to me.

The letter swerves and goes over the top, slipping down the backside of the letterbox, instead.

“Aghh!” I’m heaving. This is ridiculous! What!? Why can’t I- “My god.” Dropping to my knees on the ground, I reach underneath the letterbox with one of my long arms and collect the now dusty, dirty letter back again. I sigh. “Of course.”

Slowly getting back up to my feet, I look at the letterbox with a frown on my lips. I have to do this. I have to tell them…

Okay. Taking a deep breath and puffing out my chest, I inwardly pump myself up for this. I think I need to, considering how hard this seems to be. Let’s go Jack, we can do this, we’re very very close. Just one more try. Come on. Here we go-

I accidentally picture Y/N again at exactly the wrong moment. This time it’s a memory; This actually happened. And its horrible.

Before my eyes, seemingly, I see them animatedly explaining why they have to leave to me - because they got an amazing job opportunity, a fact I’m surprised I remember considering I was blocking them out at this point, - , that they’re so very sorry - something I definitely didn’t care to hear at the time, - , and then… inviting me to see them off the next day. Say goodbye properly.

… But the next day came and I didn’t go to see them off… The letter once again mises its target. I saved myself from that unnecessary pain of saying goodbye. Didn’t I?

I’ve been so sure about that, for a while… But not so much, lately. No. Suddenly I regret it. I’m thinking maybe I should have been there, maybe it would have been better. Perhaps I wouldn’t still have this nagging itch in my chest every time I think about them. I wish I would have… been there…

And now I just want to tell them that. They need to know that I’m sorry I didn’t go, or say goodbye to them when they left.

That I hope they forgive me.

I love them.

But I am apparently physically incapable of sending this bloody letter!

Wheezy Weasel: the universe keeps putting us in the same place at the same time and you still refuse to come to me

Creaaaaaaaaaaaak- “Oh, shoot.”

“Mmm… toldya that floorboards a little loose.” Wheezy mumbles sleepily, cracking his eyes open to see you caught with your boot just pulled on but not laced up yet. He immediately sees what’s happening, and those scary steel eyes narrow at you. Oh, no. You were really hoping to avoid that. “… Goin’ somewhere?”

“I… “ Searching for the words gets you nowhere; There are no words to sufficiently explain yourself in a flattering light. You’re running away- again.

“Its kinda early.”

“Wheezy, I- “ You try again, but he’s already climbing out of bed and fixing his sleeves. Watching him, you wait for the way he’ll shut down and let you go like he always does. It hurts, but you’re used to it. And you’re sure it hurts him when he sees that you’re leaving, so… you’re even. You owe it to him to stay and see the moment he gives up on whatever’s between the two of you every time.

“No.” Is all he says, and you’re a little surprised. No?? What does no mean??? You open your mouth to ask, concerned, but he says it again; Head still down and eyes not on you as he finished rolling up his sleeves. “No.”

“No??”

He lifts his eyes to see you again and you’re struck with the utter intensity of them. “No, yer not leavin’ again.”

Jaw dropping, you look around- searching inside yourself for the words again- this time to say yes, you are. You have to, this isn’t good for either one of you. Sorry. “… Actually- “

“Y/N,” Suddenly he’s in front of you and his hand’s on your face and his eyes are soft on you now and god- you could give up right there. He is such kryptonite to you, its unbelievable. “Just stay this time, huh? Just fer breakfast- its Greasy’s day, so you don’t haveta worry about anything. And it might actually taste good, considering the boss aint cookin’.”

“I can’t stay for breakfast… “

“Why’s that?”

“You know why!”

Eyes going cold again like a switch, Wheezy gives a frustrated sigh in front of you and closes his eyes; Letting his hand fall down to your shoulder, instead. “… why can’t you believe this could work?”

What kind of question is that? Exasperated and desperate to just leave, you step away from him, edging towards the door. “Because it never does!- “

He looks at you again and he looks so damn frustrated, throwing his arm out for emphasis. It’s surprising, he’s usually so cool. “ - Because you always run away! What are you scared of, Y/N??” He comes in close to you again and you feel like a bowl of soup- “The universe keeps putting us together over and over again- and you still refuse to come to me.” His voice is quiet, and soft as it can be after years of chain smoking, and it’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to you… in a crappy low-rent apartment downtown smelling faintly of pee, no less. “… Why’s that??”

You have no idea what to say to second part, so you elect to ignore it. Its easier. “… I’m not scared- “

“Really?? You coulda fooled me.”

“Wheezy, I-… This is dangerous, for me.” You can feel the pressure building up, hear the blood pumping in your ears. You have not wanted to admit this part, you have wanted to keep it buried so as to not hurt him but it’s about to come out and you can’t stop it. “This stuff that you do for Smartass, and the judge… I can’t be mixed up in all that! I could get hurt. And… I can’t-… I can’t… “

“… y’cant put yourself in that situation for a guy.” He realises slowly, on his own. And it’s a small relief… though really, really small.

You want to tell him it’s not true, that he is so worth it because truly, honestly, he is and you love him… but… “Yeah,” You let out, more as breath then an actual admission. But he hears it.

And he understands, too. He nods and actually looks like he understands you. Which just makes it worse for you! He’s fucking perfect, what the hell!? “I get that… “

“Thank you… “

… When it’s clear that Wheezy isn’t going to stop you this time, you sit down on the edge of the bed and silently do up your boot laces. Wheezy carefully sits down next to you, reaching to get your jacket for you and hold it silently while you finish your boots. When you do finish, you turn to him and he hands it to you, forcing a small smile.

For a moment more you just sit there, wondering how you could possibly say goodbye to him. Really, say goodbye. Because you don’t think… you’re ever going to do this again. Not after this. Its over.

You can feel your heart breaking as you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Wheezy.”

“Love ya, baby.”

“Oh I love you too.” You sigh out, pausing only a moment more to let it sink in, then take a deep breath and leave the room.

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