#stop wasting your breath and save your energy for loving what you love with other people who love it

[unforth]

Some days I wish I could just look every Jiang Cheng stan in the eye and yell "STOP FEEDING THE TROLLS."

Look, there will never be anything in the text of any version of MDZS that will convince the antis that he's not tHe AnTaGoNiSt. There is no proving it to them. All attempts do is rile them up. Stop trying to engage. Block them and move on.

Like, I swear, sometimes the "JC defense squad" is almost as annoying as the antis. Not because they're wrong, I usually agree with them, but like. Please just stop. Antis are always gonna anti and arguments directed their way will always be wasted and it's just. Shut up. Please. JC-positive arguments directed at antis only incense and encourage them. Let them stew in their own toxic juices, show you love your character by ignoring them and doing your own thing.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Choso realizing what love is when you almost sacrifice your life to save his

Pairing: Choso x reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: It was always a mystery to Choso Kamo, the way human emotions seem to work. But when you yank yourself right into Uraume's attack in order to save him, he slowly but surely begins to understand.

Warnings: After most of you voted for fem! pronouns, I'm using she/her to adress Uraume in this fanfic (if this doesn't sit right with you, I kindly advice you to read something else), bad bitch energy between yn and Uraume, so much angst but fluff at the same time, Choso is just the cutest I can't, as usual language and injury lol, I'm sorry if this isn't well written but I desperately wanted to finally give a fanfic to you guys again

Thanks for the request anon 🤍

Your heart hammers against your ribcage, ears ringing so violently that you feel like throwing up any minute. But there is no time to rest. You can’t stop moving now, not when his life is in danger.

Choso Kamo.

It hit you like a wall. All the feelings you desperately tried to hold back, all the affection you hold for him, how much you long for his presence when he’s not around and his touch, no matter how minor. You were never brave enough to tell him how you feel. Would he even understand your words? Is he even able to hold affection for a person apart from his brothers? It always felt as if he’s looking out for you, as if he’s staring through your back when you walk in front of him.

But it doesn’t matter right now if Choso Kamo returns your feelings. All the rubble and ash around you, the corpses splattered all over the completely destroyed streets along with the stinging smell of burnt flesh that hangs in the air makes your guts turn.

He’s so strong. You know how damn powerful he is, that not a single one of those sorcerers except for Satoru Gojo himself is enough to defeat him, but that presence you felt earlier, that man Choso decided to work for…

It doesn’t sit right with you. Whatever fought here was definitely stronger than both of you, stronger than the sorcerer you are.

Your eyes dart around the area, searching for his white robe in the darkness of the night.

“Fuck”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

You are so fucking tired of it all. Tired of all the fighting, tired of working in this shady business, tired of hiding your feelings. As soon as you get out of here, you will quit being a bounty hunter and confess your feelings. Yes, you will tell Choso Kamo how you really feel, how his sight alone makes sparks fly and your heart drop to the ground. You will tell him that you can’t live without him anymore and that you want to start over. Maybe somewhere far away from here, somewhere far away from jujutsu and curses. Choso…

Choso.

The sight in front of you hits you like lighting. It’s him. You really found him.

But he’s fighting. Against Geto Suguru. And that white-haired woman…

You waste no time. With neck-breaking speed you dash forward, past the other sorcerers scattered around you, past what looks like Yuji Itadori. She stretches out her finger, ice darting through the air faster than his blood manipulation ever could. Just a millisecond more and she’ll reach his head, just milliseconds until she pierces through his brain with ease, just seconds until you lose the love of your life.

“Not today, bitch.”

Out of instinct, you yank in front of him. Immediately, blood starts to spill out of your shoulder. You don’t even have to look at yourself to be aware of the fact that the beam of ice pierced right through you, leaving a gaping hole and a stinging pain that almost swallows you whole.

All Choso is able to do is stare at your back, watching how your chest rises and falls rapidly.

“(y/n)”, he breathes out.

How did you get here? Didn’t he distract you enough to keep you out of danger, to handle Yuji Itadori and all of this alone? You shouldn’t even be here, at Shibuya.

“I won’t leave you there alone. Also, he’s paying me pretty decent. If I make it out alive-“

“You will make it out alive.”

His large frame lingered over you, his eyes fixed on your remarkable face. He didn’t understand what came over him, why he suddenly stood this close to you, his hands grabbing your shoulders roughly.

“I won’t let you die. Never.”

Your blood runs down your body in an instant, discolouring the floor in cruel crimson. His heart skips a beat. There’s a hole in your shoulder, just a few inches away from your chest. If you moved a little differently, if you didn’t make it in time…

His eyes widen. You could be dead by now. You would have died in order to save his very own life.

“Get out of the way, stupid human”, the white-haired creature hisses, her hands ready to strike again.

Everything hurts. Oh, how much you’d love to lay in bed right now with your mind lingering around him, how much you’d love to be able to admire is beautiful sight right now. But instead, your eyes stare at her blankly, the woman with a power you never felt before. Who is she? And why is she attacking him?

“You are the one who needs to leave this place. Get away from here before I’m losing it.”

His mind races, eyes darting from the street covered in your blood to your moonlit back. You just risked your life for him. You, the most remarkable creature he ever witnessed. You, the one and only who made him feel things he still fails to understand. You with those gorgeous eyes. You have to be the bravest creature walking on this earth with a body so strong that it outstood this merciless attack this well.

But why? Why are you saving someone like him even if it means you’ll get injured in the process? Why are you standing there with your face up high and your hands clenched into fists when you should leave immediately and take care of your wounds?

All of this…For him?

“What are you doing here, (y/n)? You shouldn’t even be here.”

Choso knows he shouldn’t bark at you the way he just did, he shouldn’t look at your back with his face scrunched up like that.

“I’m here to save you, can’t you see?”, you mumble in reply.

The white-haired sorcerer lifts her hand again. Out of instinct, Choso grabs your body and yanks you away, careful to not hurt you even more in the process.

“Why did you do that, idiot?”, he hisses through gritted teeth while sprinting away at neck-breaking speed.

You look awful with your face pale like snow and your lids hanging dangerously low in your tired-looking face. Why? Why did you do this to yourself? Why did you let yourself get hurt like that in order to save him from the ray of ice? Why did you even follow him in the first place? Thick anger makes his blood boil, makes him grab your body even firmer. But no, this feeling is something apart from anger, this feeling…

“Because I love you, Choso Kamo. I’d risk my life over and over to save yours.”

His glossy eyes dart towards you in disbelief, the whole world around him disappearing for a moment. Love, the strange word he always failed to understand, the feeling he never believed even existed. He never thought about it as anything apart from the affection he holds for his brothers. But looking down at your trembling figure in his arms…

All those lonely nights he thought about you, all the stolen glances when he thought you weren’t looking, the almost unbearable urge to feel your skin against his. Is this love? Is this what you feel as well.

“You love me?”, he repeats, feet stopping in their tracks.

“I love you”, you repeat weakly.

He doesn’t know what to say anymore. Instead, he presses your body against his like he always imagined, as if his very own life depends on it. You sure feel as good as you did in his dreams, your smell is intoxicating.

“I will never let you go again, (y/n). And I will make them pay for hurting you.”

“Yuji Itadori”, he shouts behind his shoulder, walking towards the boy with rapid but confident steps.

“Take good care of her, little brother. And you-“

His eyes dart towards the white-haired creature with so much hatred in them that you hold your breath.

“I will make you regret everything you did today.”

“I love you, (y/n). I will return soon.”

With one last glance that makes your heart skip a beat, he’s gone, leaving you completely messed up. Choso Kamo told you he loves you. Choso Kamo really returns your feelings. Choso Kamo…

“Hey, stay strong, okay? We’ll get you out of here”, the voice of the pink-haired boy lingering above you speaks out gently.

“How are you still alive?”, you mumble, memories of Choso’s unfiltered loathing towards him flooding your mind.

“Apparently, he thinks I’m his brother now.”

“You must be emitting pheromones or something”, Panda comments dryly.

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp I bet you like that @sanicsmut

[justwinginglife]

What Lies After?

Y'all, spoilers- it's a depressing one and I'm so sorry in advance. I promise I'll post something more wholesome later.

You're dying.

You're dying and Soshiro can't do a damn thing about it.

Amidst the chaos of people pulling each other from the rubble, medics running to and fro, and other soldiers groaning in pain as they writhe in the dirt waiting to see if death or the medics will claim them first, he can still hear the situation you're facing a couple feet away from him (in fact, it's the only thing he can hear at this point). You're never far away from him, he would never allow it. He doesn't know what it's like to not be by your side. But he can't reach you. He's badly injured himself and though he gave crawling a good, hard attempt, his bruised, bleeding organs won't allow him to get any closer to you though he's already pleaded and begged them to. He'd plead to anyone who'd hear him, who'd save you. The doctors, the gods, the devil himself.

The sound of the defibrillator thumping at your lifeless body is deafening to him. He can hear his own heartbeat vying for attention as it thunders in his ears and he wishes it would shut up and let him join you.

He wipes blood from his eyes, as it's started to drip down his forehead, he's desperate to see you better. Even if the color has drained from your face he still thinks you're the most beautiful thing ever placed on this Earth. His weak eyes widen slightly, as much as they have the energy to, as he sees the doctors starting to pull away from you. He sees the resigned looks on their faces, though muddled by his own tears, and he thinks he might just choke on his own lungs when he finally brings himself to look at the unforgiving, unbudging line of what was your heartbeat flattened against the cold screen of the monitor.

He stops looking at you. You're not there anymore. He's got nothing left to look at, nothing left to look forward to.

He lays down flat again, pressing his back up against the dirt, and peering at the sky while he still can, his eyelids getting heavier with each aching breath. I'll be there soon, love, wait for me.

He thinks about your laugh. How you'd probably say something about how we shouldn't waste the chance to enjoy such a bright blue sky. How we have to seize the day. And then you'd seize his hand and take off running, laughing and laughing, the way you always do. The way you always did.

Why was the sky so damn blue today?? How dare it be a perfect, clear day when nothing about this day was perfect or clear?

You would've loved today. If you weren't... gone.

He'd always make fun of people who used euphemisms. Just be honest, and say they're dead if they're dead. None of this "kicked the bucket" or "gone to a better place" bullshit. They're dead. But he can't bring himself to think that about you. He settles on "gone to a better place." Darling, save me a spot up there, won't you?

He lifts his fingers weakly and waves at the sky and what is presumably heaven.

He's never thought about religion before, but now every torn, exhausted fiber of his being hopes to every god out there that there is a heaven and that you're waiting impatiently at the door for him, tapping your foot and rolling your eyes but still grinning nonetheless. "Welcome home, Soshiro." You'd say with open arms.

"He's crashing."

He wonders if God will let the two of you have that house that you'd always dreamed of. He's sure God could spare a house or two for the love of his life especially when you're such an angel. He's made up his mind that God definitely wouldn't be able to resist a cutie like you if you asked nicely.

"Get him under control now, I'm not losing another one, damnit!!"

He wonders if you're an angel now. You always did believe in angels. You always believed in everything good and pure and wonderful like the saint you were. He smiles at the thought of you with a little glowing halo above your head and a white flowing gown. He'd kill to see you again. He'd die to see you again.

"Vice Captain, don't you quit on us!"

He wants to quit. He will. He'll do it. He doesn't know who said that but it wasn't you so he doesn't much care. He misses you so much. He misses you. What he'd give to hold you again, to smell your hair- you thought he wouldn't noticed that you'd changed your shampoo recently but he did. He never got to tell you he liked the new shampoo. He never got to tell you a lot of things. His trembling fingers move towards his pocket where he knows the ring is sitting snug against his leg but he stops himself. He doesn't want to touch it. He can't take it, it might kill him if he thinks about whatever future you might've had together. It might kill him. He touches it.

Everything goes white. Your face is coming into view now. He can almost see you fully, your hair bouncing in the wind, your sparkling eyes gleaming at him, your full lips waiting to be reunited with his. Just a little longer baby, I'm coming.

"We've got a pulse! He's stabilizing. He's going to make it!"

No.

Fuck.

[pearlcigs]

⋆ magnificently cursed

whistling wind, the cold biting at both of your skin. not a single word was said. ache festering between your cold bodies, pressing against each other to save warmth. tears in your eyes, ellie fought back hers. blood pooled around your steadfast feet, the whites of ellie's shoes starting to stain. on the ground laid an infected, croaking as it took it's final breaths. you weren't far behind. blood dripped down your arm, creating vein like patterns. ellie refused to come to terms with it. silently trying to come up with any excuse, any reason to pretend like you didn't just get bit.

no words were said, wavering breaths as you ultimately came to terms with your untimely demise. the harshness of the wind seemed like the least of your worries now. the numbness of your fingertips no longer bothering you. and offhandedly, you wondered what else you complained about that really wasn't all that of a big deal. "ellie..." you voice was soft, scared. you were scared. "it's okay... you're okay, yeah...?" she tried to comfort, she didn't want you to be scared. her efforts were wasted, the sound of her voice, the sound of her disappointment, it made you all the more upset.

"i'm sorry..." you whispered, lips wobbling with sadness, breath shortening. "hey, hey... it's not your fault." she didn't even know what she was saying anymore. the only thoughts that plagued her mind were thoughts of how she could live without you. suddenly, you weren't there in her mind. not when she thought about a year into the future, or two, or five. all she could feel was resentment. to herself, to you, to the god awful world. maybe if you were immune and she wasn't or maybe if she was the one who was bitten instead or maybe—

it didn't matter. you were here, bitten and nonimmune. no chance of a saving grace, no chance of living past today. the paralyzing fear of turning into a ravenous monster. the fear of any moment going from wanting to hold ellie in your arms until sunrise to unsuspectedly wanting to tear her insides out. but ellie didn't care. she would let you. a smile on her face as your controlled mind tore out each one of her internal organs, feasting on them as if they were the best meal you've ever had. listening to the whimpering cries as you did, because you were still in there. still aware but unable to stop the urges. gorging on your love's lifeline like a true glutton.

"til' death do us part." she thinks in a sick manner. choking on her own blood that's rushing through her throat. a shaky, weakened hand on your head as you eat from her body. fingers loosely wrapped around the strands. and with her final breaths she reaches for her gun, placing the barrel to your forehead. you would want this, want her to kill you. ears ringing from the shot that was fired. your lifeless body slumping down next to ellie. with the last of her energy, she cuddles into you, her guts and blood pouring onto your deceased body, painting you both with red.

maybe joel would find you both. worry overtaking him when you don't return. maybe he'll cry over your bodies. deciphering the gruesome scene that's displayed. maybe his heart would ache. the thought of how much you both suffered before the sweet, agonizing release of death. maybe no one would find you at all. your bodies left alone to decay. maybe a stray dog will find your bones centuries later. giving you a proper burial just like dogs do with bones. or maybe nothing will happen. just pure silence.

[holly-the-trash-writer]

Spencer Reid x Famous!Reader

Synopsis: After your home is broken into by a stalker, your bf cheats, the FBI is called, and a new romance begins to take over.

Told through Instagram posts.

TW for mentions of stalkers

Part 1. Part 2.

yourinstagram

Liked by zendaya, pgarcia and 67,927,726 others

yourinstagram 🖤🤍 NYC I love you so much

View all 20,716 comments

rarebeauty 😍😍

dovecameron You are the most beautiful human

Liked by yourinstagram

tchalamet A devine being 💫

florencepugh ❤️❤️❤️

y/n.is.queen I MISSED YOUR SMILE!

woketh.teen She looks so happy to be back on stage

and.what. The crowd went CRAZAY. The energy was unbelievable! So happy I was there!!!!!!

y/n.gossip That group hug tho 🥹

Comments on this post have been limited

yourname.stan

Liked by 6,531 others

yourname.stan SHE'S BACK! 😭😭😭😭

View all 382 comments

kiki.kiwi The way they all held hands at the start of the show killed me. I cried so much.

nerdymcnerd No. But I swear I saw that FBI agent dancing to her songs!!!

dracoandme PICS WHERE?!?!?!

y/ns.army I need to see this!!!

onabreak The romance is BLOOMING

pgarcia @theemilyprentis 👀

y/n.updates

Liked by y/nnnn, d.morgan and 5,927 others

y/n.updates YOU GUYS!!! Y/N JUST POSTED THIS ON HER IG STORY THIS MORNING 😍😍

Story reads "☀️Sunshine☀️ and Road tripping with my new friend. Meet Spencer."

View all 1,826 comments

sasha.mac She is a Goddess!! A Queen!! 👑

gucci.goddess He legit looks like a Spencer 🤣

fanfic.reader I smell romance in the air 💕💕

jd.dj He's her FBI body guard. Stop.

ooh.bratz Can he be mine next😭😍

bye-felicia THOSE HANDS 🤩

carter.nation Took no time did she 🤣

_isla Matt literally cheated on her. You can't say shit.

bubbles It's sad she can't just be her own person and be single. You don't need a man girl. Chill.

lame-o She can do what she wants??

celebgossip

Liked by user82 and 9,952 others

celebgossip During Y/n's show tonight, her third show back since her temporary shock hiatus, the star broke down in tears while singing Almost is Never Enough. During which the crowd came together and sang the rest of the song for her.

View all 972 comments

itsmemario She must be feeling so much pain right now but I hope she feels comforted by her fans being there for her

y/ns.army I watched the video and when she sang So close to being in love. Her voice cracked and she tried to power through but she just broke down 💔💔

keyboardwarrior Why did she come back if she was just gonna cry for 90% of her show? Waste of money. Waste of time. Get yourself sorted and then come back.

ryanslife Your mum must be proud.

gigglegiraffe She's allowed to have feelings?

hater482 Exactly. Imagine going to a concert and they're just crying. Just don't sing that song?

daydreamer She sings love songs dipshit

y/nfan I just want to hug her so bad 😭

y/nupdates

Liked by y/nismother and 2,826 others

y/nupdates Y/n posted these to her story 10mins ago!! She's spoiling us. She's writing new songs. Going out. And having fun with her FBI agent Spencer.

y/nfan WHOOOOOS BUYING HER FLOWERS?!

bi.bi.bi Herself?

freakygirl Imagine if it was the stalker?!

queenie.me Doubt it. They probably check her mail and shid.

spillthetea Maybe Spencer? 👀

enews

Liked by teaspill and 29,8364 others

enews BREAKING‼️ Dash cam footage was leaked today showing FBI agents arresting a man outside Y/n's New York apartment.

We've reached out to the BAU team and Y/n's management for comment.

y/n.updates OMG THEY GOT HIM!!!

bi.bianca Thank GOD!!! She can breathe now 😭

queenie.me Those agents saved her GOD damn life. 😭

y/nnnnn I'm so happy rn. She's safe ❤️

imdreaming Sending so many prayers to her 🙏🏼

vampdiary Spencer I'd HAWT ngl

thirstay Girl literally!!!

freeshavocadoo The way he swerved him too. That agent got rizz.

yourinstagram

Liked by tomholland13 and 1,837,937 others

yourinstagram the light inside my universe now

Comments have been disabled

Private Account

dr.s.reid

Liked by emilyprentiss, yourinstagram and 12 others

dr.s.reid 🩷

p.garcia The CUTEST 😭🥰 so glad it's Official!!!

dr.s.reid She is and so am I.

emilyprentiss @p.garcia I told you!!

p.garcia I just couldn't believe!!

derekmorgan Pretty Boy got gameee

jen.jarau Spence I'm so happy for you!!

[eatommo]

Coach [r.k.]{kd12}

Dirty talk / breath play

Cw: coach!Roy Kent, coworkers, inappropriate use of coach, lots of kissing, p in v, teasing, swearing, rough sex, mentions of shower sex, implied age gap (though not large), mutual pining

Moving across the world to chase a childhood dream, per request of your brother’s football coach, had been working out so far.

Futbol had always been your passion, you would get up at odd hours to watch your favorite teams, and your favorite player perform, even begging for channel packages so you could watch matches live. So when Coach Lasso offered you a position on his coaching staff for Richmond, the landing place for your favorite grumpy futbol player, you jumped on it.

Ted had an incredible ability to make everyone around him cherish life a little bit more every single day and life in England really did cast a spell on your small town American heart.

Roy, had been full of surprises himself. You and your dad used to bond over his no nonsense attitude, and his passion that was evident in the way he left his entire life on the pitch every single game, even the occasional meltdown.

Meeting him had been difficult at first, but during your first conversation you quickly established yourself as something more than a baseball fan, or as he put it so nonchalantly “a pretty face.”

You always had a crush on him, sure he was a bit older than you but his personality was addicting, and the subtle nuances of his love for the boys didn’t go unnoticed. You once watched him talk Danny through his emotions after a movie night where the team had gathered together to watch When Harry Met Sally. He helped Jamie grow to his full potential, albeit through gritted teeth, but he did it because as shy as he was to admit it, Richmond had become his home.

“Mmmmm.” Roy Grumbled as he walked into the coaches office. You sitting at your desk on the other side of the room from him, his fist clenched as he threw himself into a chair across from you with a grunt.

“What happened this time?” You half expected some Blaise excuse like his car getting dinged by the kitmans bike.

He looked across the desk at you, giving you a small eye roll. Mumbling back at you, he replied. “Players. Don’t show up properly to train. Don’t focus on the exercise, just a pain in my ass really.”

You hum in agreement, “I know, if only we were still allowed to bend them over a desk maybe you could return the favor.” You taunt, with just a hint of warmth in your cheeks, unable to stop the out of pocket phrase.

“If only.” He joked back to you, his grumpy tone now changed to something more lighthearted with a small grin. “I swear sometimes they try to do this stuff on purpose just to mess with me- And what am I even supposed to do with a player who can’t even get their kit on right. Sam had his shirt on backwards, the hell are we supposed to do with that?” He let out a frustrated groan, running his hand through his hair.

You chuckle, “Do you really think they do it on purpose just to fuck with you? I know I enjoy watching you get all grumbly.” Mumble with just a hint of suggestiveness in your voice, but shifting your attention back to the tape you’re cutting into a highlight reel for tomorrow’s practice.

“They better not be doing it on purpose.” He huffed and crossed his arms. “Or I swear I’ll be out there making them do extra drills after their extra drills. I swear if they wanna mess with me they’re really not gonna like my attitude tomorrow.” He leaned forward, and given the threatening tone his voice still never raised at you. He was always respectful of your space, and never would do anything to intimidate you on purpose.

You smile, clearly enjoying the grumpiness of him today, and tease him just a hair further, “Easy old man, I don’t want you to waste all that energy on the boys.” I say in a coy and insinuating to save some for me with a short pause, before continuing “We have a yoga class we can’t miss.”

His eyes widened for a brief moment, surprised by the comment and the tone you used. He could tell your were teasing, but it didn’t stop the thought from popping into his mind about saving energy for you. “Oh shush.” He replied, his tone trying to act as if he was unaffected, but the way his breath went a little faster said otherwise, “I’m looking forward to it.”

You’ve been flirting with each other for weeks, getting along better than most people typically do with Roy at least right off the bat, and the reality of it is you think when Roy is sexy when he’s angry. “Everyone needs an outlet for stress, I like yoga among other things.”

He let out a breath, his arms still crossed as he looked at you across the room. “I swear we’re supposed to be professional.” He mumbled with a bit of a chuckle and rolling his eyes, as he knew both him and you weren’t exactly doing the best job at being professional.

You smile knowingly, “I have reason to believe we wouldn’t be the first ones to break that rule.” I look at him up and down, not trying to hide my intention anymore, watching the veins in his neck strain, longing to make them pop.

He raised an eyebrow, listening to your suggestion. He couldn’t deny that the idea was tempting, and it would definitely relieve some of the frustration he had. He stared at you for a moment, considering the suggestion, before finally speaking. “Are you propositioning me?” He smirked, crossing his arms again with a raised eyebrow, still playing a bit coy, but the twist of his mouth is stuck in place.

You shrug, simply stating, “You know how much I like you, I think we’d have good chemistry off the pitch.”

He chuckled a bit at your words, the idea of ‘relieving stress’ with you becoming even more tempting. He knew that there was chemistry, everyone could tell in the locker room. The way you always seemed to make him laugh and feel lighter, while also managing to send his heart race with your playful teasing. He was tempted, not for the first time. He smirked again and tilted his head to the side. “You think so?” He taunted, his voice low. Leaning just a bit closer to your desk.

You hum again, standing slowly and circling the desk, perching on the edge and getting a close as you’ve ever been to him apart from a few celebratory hugs during matches. “You know what helps me relax?”

He smirked, the sound you made already sending a chill down his spine. He was already sold on the idea, but seeing you move to the front of the desk and letting out that phrase definitely sealed the deal. He walked closer to you slowly, moving around the desk until he was standing in front of you. “Enlighten me.” He said smoothly.

“A nice warm shower…” you reach out slowly, giving him every opportunity to move before you touch his chest gently with a lifted eyebrow in question.

He let out a breath as you reached out, his heart beginning to pound in his chest at the idea of finally getting to do something with you. He watched you closely, eyes following your hand to his chest. He had no intention of moving, wanting to keep this going.

A small smirk appeared on his face as he watched you. “A nice warm shower,” He said, taking another step forward.

He chuckled softly, leaning forward slightly, so he was standing right in front of you. “You are a tease, you know that?” He said in a low tone, his hands going to the edge of the desk on either side of you, caging you against it. “A right little tease.”

Him being so close to you is intoxicating, you can smell the oil he puts in his beard, he smells like sage and sweat. Your breath picking up as the anticipation of his touch draws closer, you look down into his dark brown eyes.

The sight of you enjoying this was almost enough to make him snap. He leaned in closer, his breath fanning across your face. “You like getting this reaction out of me, don’t you? Teasing me, making me want you?” He murmured, voice low and rough.

“Yes,” you pant, your hands twisting in your lap. “I have a feeling you’re rough in all aspects of your life.”

He chuckled breathlessly, his heart pounding even faster as you confirmed his suspicions. God, the thought of the two of you doing other things together was almost enough to make his brain short circuit. He took a moment to regain his focus, trying to respond in a way that wasn’t just a bunch of stutters and breathless words. “Is that right?” He replied softly. “You’re just dying to know the reaction you’d get from me in other situations, ehh?”

I smirk, leaning forward so our lips brush ever so slightly breathless, “So how about that shower?”

The slight brush of lips alone was enough to send a shiver down his spine. God, he was already a mess, and it was all your fault. He could feel the desire and need running through his veins. He let out a short huff, his hands gripping the edge of the desk tighter. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” He whispered huskily. “Let’s go.”

Your faces meet, coming together in a clash of teeth and hunger, your lips moving against each others in a frenzy.

Roy groaned into the kiss, his hands quickly moving from the desk to grip your hips as your mouths pressed together. He allowed you to dominate the kiss for a moment, letting you lick into his mouth, his eyes closing as he enjoyed it.

After a moment, he began to grow more aggressive, his tongue meeting yours hungrily and his hands pulling you closer against him. You groan eagerly, feeling the tight grip on his hands all over your body. Partially wondering if you’ll even make it off your desk.

He let out another quiet moan as your hands moved to grip his hair, the feeling sending a spark of pleasure through him. He broke the kiss for a moment, only to begin trailing kisses up and down your jawline.

He nipped and sucked the skin, leaving a trail of love bites along the side of your neck. One of his large, rough hands snuck up under the hem of your shirt, wanting to feel your skin.

His hands are calloused and warm, and part of you should care that he’s leaving a trail of marks in the wake of his mouth but if you weren’t lying the idea of wearing these mark, his marks, in front of so many people makes your pussy throb in need.

Roy’s hands come down to your hips, squeezing and pushing more of his body against yours, you can feel the hard outline of his need in his trousers.

Roy runs a hand over your ribs, and you shudder in response. “How much longer is training?” You say, as you throw your head back and begin kicking off your shoes.

“Half hour, then Beard is holding a checkers competition in the team room.” He lifts your shirt up and over your head, “we’ve got your office to ourselves for at least an hour, we’ll have to be quiet to keep the kit man away,” he kisses you again, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra,”You can be a good girl and keep quiet yeah?”

“Yes coach.” You pull away, to free him from his shirt, and pressing your chests together. “Tell me what you wanna do to me.”

“Fucking minx.” He swears fingers finding your nipple and tugging on it harshly, “Filthy fucking thing calling me coach.” His eyes are dark with desire, breath hot and full of desire. “I’m gonna fuck you on this desk.”

His fingers dip into the waistband of your joggers, grabbing fistfuls of your ass as he envelops you with his mouth again. You moan coach, against the press of his mouth.

As you repeat the title, calling him coach again, he groans against your skin. His hips press forward, practically grinding himself against you for a moment to get some much needed friction, a low hiss slipping from his lips. He pulls back, his breath coming out in short huffs as he looks you in the eye.

“Say it again. Keep calling me coach.” He practically growls out. He pushes your paperwork onto the floor, urging you to lay further back onto the desk and to give him space to remove your clothes.

You comply, leaning back and lifting your hips so that he can pull the soft material from your legs. Looking down between your legs he sees a sizable patch of wet fabric clinging to your skin.

“Fucking filthy girl, you want this cunt filled don’t you?” He lets the pad of his thumb tap your clit through the thin cloth of your panties, and your eyes all but roll back into your head.

You nod vigorously, feeling so hot and dazed, knuckles clinging to the edge of your desk. Catching a glimpse of the sizable bulge in his trousers, you reach down to slip your hand around him.

He continues to press a finger to your clit, and takes a hand and twists into your hair tugging from the root. You hiss in pain, squeezing his shaft in response to the pain, “Please coach.”

His resolve breaks, pushing the top of his trousers down just enough to let himself fall free. In a single breath the head of his cock is working you open and his hips saw back and forth stretching you around his size.

Once he’s bottomed out, he pauses for a moment. Taking in the way your mouth is parted in a pant, and the way the muscles in your legs quiver around his waist.

“You said rough yeah? Tell me if you need me to stop.” He said, sober as a saint for a second making sure to establish himself as in control but giving you what you need to feel comfortable.

You nod, biting your lip as he shifts his heels to angle his hips up, he hits something inside you that makes you squeak.

His large palm wraps around your throat, squeezing the artery there and making your brain lull into the field of pleasure he gives you.

[thedeviltohisangel]

I MUST SEE CASS X BUCKY FOR NUMBER 23 !!!??!1?11!!!! THEN MY LIFE WILL BE COMPLETE /lh

INJURY PROMPT BLURB ERA

11. “I’m going to lift you up, okay? Tell me if it hurts.”

23. “You dumbass. Don’t do that. Ever again.”

more forced march for the girlies this wednesday night xoxo

John doesn't think he even closed his eyes, let alone slept. His focus was trained on his wife's chest. Making sure it continued to rise and fall. Making sure her hand was gripped tightly between his. Making sure breaths continued to puff out of her lips as she slept against his chest.

He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to fix this. Gale had made it over the wall, made it to freedom. Cass was supposed to be right behind him. Cass was supposed to have made it out. If anyone didn't, it was supposed to be John. The two people he loved most in this world were supposed to be safe and secure and on their way back to England. Instead, he was holding the barely conscious body of his wife, an angry welt on her hip from where he had burned her skin closed, and her blood stained on his hands.

When the guards came storming over and yelled that is was time to get up and get moving again, she showed no signs of waking.

"Cass, baby, we've got to get up. We've got to get you up." He palmed at her cheek gently and her eyes opened then closed. "I'm going to lift you up, okay? Tell me if it hurts." He moved his arm to sit her up gently and she grabbed his jacket with a barely constrained scream.

"John, no...it hurts, stop, please, stop." She was panting into the side of his neck, a cold sweat on her forehead, as he paused his attempts to move her. The other 100th men were lurking towards the back of the group, waiting for John and Cass, the rest of the prisoners slowly meandering in the direction they were being ordered in. "I can't. I can't walk like this." The searing pain in her side was radiating through her back and legs. She was paralyzed by the burning sensation.

"Hambone!"

"Yes, Major?" He came running over.

"No matter what she fucking says, you help me lift her up. I'm going to carry her the rest of the way."

"Bucky-" Crank started.

"What are my other options, huh? I sit here and hold my wife as she freezes to death?" He was getting her out of this. No matter what it cost him.

Wordlessly, Hambone held Cass up, her head lolling onto his shoulder, her teeth drawing blood from her lip as John stood and lifted her to his chest.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled as he walked forwards slowly. Every step sent a tinge of pain through her hip. "I shouldn't have come."

"We'll talk about it later. When we get home." He thinks it was a tear he felt against his neck but he didn't say anything about it.

"Just tell me I'm a dumbass. Tell me you hate me. Please just get it over with." John had been so strict in keeping his distance from her. Had been cold and uninviting and the opposite of the man she had married in London. She had come here to save him but instead had ruined him. Ruined the relationship they had built. Cass was positive she would no longer be returning home with John on her arm. If she returned home at all. "Let me down. I'm feeling better." She pushed at his chest as a small sob escaped her lips. John stopped abruptly and tightened his arms around her impossibly so.

"You dumbass. Don't do that. Ever again." He was shaking with how afraid he was of losing her. She could feel it now that she was looking him in the eyes. "Conserve your energy. Don't fucking waste it on fighting me and hating yourself, got it?" She nodded silently.

"I love you," she whispered a few minutes later.

John thinks it sounded like goodbye.

[halfmylife]

I’ll Always Come Back to You

Pairing Finan x Reader

Summary Finan returns home to find you aren’t there.

Warnings None (just some angst)

A/N this was requested by @biancathecool This is a follow up from Nothing Could Keep Me From You but can be read as a stand alone. I had the option of making it angsty or giving it a happy ending and I chose pain (I’m so sorry)

Finan had been gone for weeks and he was starting to feel it. Nothing ached more than his heart that yearned to be back with you. Thankfully, they were returning home and he couldn’t be happier about it. For the whole journey back he thought of nothing but holding you again, of seeing you smile, after you’d told him he’d been gone too long of course.

They were only a few miles from your village when they stopped. The four looked between each other for answers. Smoke was billowing above the tree line and the world seemed eerily silent.

“You don’t think that could be…” Osferth trailed off too afraid to say anymore as he looked over to his friend. Finan wasted no more time, rather than answer he tugged at his reigns and sent his horse into a gallop. The rest of the group followed behind, calling his name.

The village they had left only weeks ago now resembled a ruin. Houses had been burned to nothing but ash. Bodies littered the floor and blood stained the mud.

Finan only cared for one familiar face. Yours. He threw himself off his horse the moment he arrived, not hesitating to shout your name. He looked at every body, hoping it wouldn’t be yours. With every moment that he couldn’t find you, his heart pounded and he grew more agitated.

The only sound that could be heard was the shouts of your name as he searched every inch of the village. He needed to know you were okay. But the longer he was without you, the more he was convinced you were gone.

Until he heard a sob.

The sound of your breathing voice as you tried to shout his name, sent shivers down his spine. Still, he continued to shout your name, following the sound of your breathy cries as you called back. He continued to shout until he found you.

There you were. You’d tucked yourself behind the stables, almost hidden at a quick glance. That wasn’t what worried Finan. It was the blood that was pooling from your side. Your hands were covered in your own blood where you’d tried to stop the bleeding and your cheeks were stained with tears.

“Finan.” You whispered. He’d fallen to his knees beside you, pulling you closer and pushing his own hand to your wound. The bleeding didn’t stop.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” His voice shook as he held you. If you couldn’t feel his shaky grasp on you, his face wouldn’t have betrayed his fear in that moment. “Osferth!” He shouted, hoping to get help.

“It’s okay.” You said defeated. You had sworn that you would bleed out alone, never to be found. Now here you were in the arms of your love. You would not be alone in your final moments.

“We’re gonna save you, alright? I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” He spoke frantically, still holding you close. You smiled as you looked at him, committing every inch of his face to memory. What a sight to behold as you fade away. “Osferth!” He shouted again, more pained this time.

“It’s okay.” You repeated, your bloody hand now cupping his cheek and wiping away the tears that started to spill from his eyes. “You kept your promise.”

“Of course I did.” He said quietly, giving you a reassuring smile as best as he could manage, but his teary eyes betrayed him. “You know I’ll always come back to you.” He meant it. No matter how far he traveled or how long he was gone for, he would always find his way back to you.

“I never doubted you.” You smiled up at him, no longer having the energy for tears but trying to enjoy what little time you had left with him. You knew the inevitable was coming. “I think it’s my time to leave you.”

“No you’re not going anywhere.” He insisted. He searched around him for any sign of anyone before he shouted again. “Osferth!” They weren’t far away but Osferth couldn’t save you, none of them could, no matter how much he wanted it.

“I’ll always be with you, Finan.” You whispered, exhaustion taking over. You felt your arm drop from his face first before your eyes started to grow heavy.

“No, don’t close your eyes.” He grabbed your face, rubbing at your cheeks. Every inch of his body shook with a sob as you disobeyed him, your eyes shutting. His voice would be the last thing you would hear as he continued to beg. “Stay with me.”

But you were already gone.

[glamorous-astrology]

So your a Witch and you have a problem with routines or suffer from chronic overthinking

Listen when I say my executive dysfunction and anxiety can be quite devastating to any form of action I mean it from the bottom of my ✨soul✨ but when it comes to a witchy routine... Oof. These are some tips and tricks I've learned and figured I'd share it with you. Remember this is based off of my personal experience, what works for one person does not automatically work for another!

So first piece of advice in the fight against these unfaltering foes!

Don't fight em.

WAIT!! Hear me out!

Somedays you just can't do ✨the thing✨ i promise you your spirit team loves you and understands and while procrastinating is the enemy of achievement taking breaks and rest are it's allies. Now don't put if off for too long, maybe set a specific date or time to do it and stick to your word. If you make a promise to yourself you must endeavor to keep it. Life happens, it's unfair but you must at least be fair to yourself and to quote Mister Meeseeks "Follow Through!!" This doesn't just apply to witchy based activities either. Sometimes the urge to just not, is your bodies request for something else.

I have so many unread books I don't even know where to start and depsite all the unfinished books on my shelf I want to have more and I really shouldn't be buying more but -

First step when things get overwhelming is to breath.

Secondly you don't have to read all those books today, tomorrow or ever.

It's also okay to just have books and not finish them. I love to collect books. They may call me a horder(they being the anxiety based court that constantly judges my actions) but you'd call me a librarian if I let the public read borrow em, sooooo. Some people collect teapots that aren't even useable but I don't judge them for it. (I kind of do but only a little bit! But that's because I like my teapots pretty yes but you see-)

Speaking of Libraries!

I love the library so much guys! Please please please support your local libraries! They have so many helpful resources, I honest to Gods could make a whole other post about why libraries are important but! ✨ Focus is a must ✨

Your local library may already have that book you wanna buy, if they don't libraries are connected to a network and depending on where you live your local library can actually get books from pretty far away, sometimes they can even go out of network and into another and the cool thing is in the bookstore I can check of my library has it and save my self a pretty penny.

✨ IMPORTANT! ✨

Maybe despite how well written it is, or how enjoyable you find it you find yourself stopping halfway through. Maybe the stopping point isn't the end of the book. The knowledge you'd sought and needed might have been found and who knows maybe later you will finish it but beating your own ass about it ain't going to help. Take your time, knowledge is power but unused knowledge is a precious waste of time and space for your beautiful brain.

I have this spell I wanna do but there's so much I need to do in order for it to-

Pause

Make the spell simpler.

Yep! Not every powerful spell needs to include sage and cinnamon in order to work. Sustainable witchcraft is important. If you don't have the energy, time or money to make your spell all fancy smansy then don't. You're creative and wise, the intent behind the spell is most important and creating your own method using what you have/can afford is not only creative it shows intent. Witchcraft is not there to stress you out or be judged. The only standard for witchcraft is intent. For example! My first spell changed my life and I made it all fancy smansy, I'm talking the full nine yards I had a special knife, fancy fruit, candles, chanting, moon water, I went big sense I refused to go home. My last life changing spell included my tarot deck and a piece of paper, while I drank my morning tea. It's not just the what you're doing when it comes to spells and rituals it's about mindset. Life's already hard enough, have fun with your spiritual practice!

I feel so weighed down, and tired and I just can't find the energy to do a daily ritual but I really want to start one!

That's okay!

I'm exhausted too and also wish to have more routines but you gotta start.

My ideal routine is morning tarot, cup of tea, and meditation. Some weeks I'm up every morning, drinking tea, doing a quick tarot reading, going on walks, just taking in the day before getting started.

Some weeks I sleep through all 6 of my alarms, don't have time to pack a lunch let alone do some tarot and go on a walk!

Routines are there to help build structure in your life, not rigid cages you must appease.

Some weeks, some days, some times you honestly can't be bothered. That's okay but that just means when you can be bothered you do. My tarot decks are sassy as hell to me about it tbh. I'll do my morning tarot or I won't but they understand. But if I have the time and energy later on in the week and just don't? That quick three card reading I was gonna do with my coven mates just become 26 cards plus two Oracle decks (I'm exaggerating a teenie bit but it feels like a lot sometimes) and you know what, that's okay. Your deck is just catching you up on all the knowledge you've missed! You'll make time for tarot, it's not a scheduled appointment, it's supposed to be a meeting between equals.

I'm pretty sure I've gotten off track but to show you the sum my knowledge or TLDR as you young whippersnappers are saying these days.

Basically, be kind and patient with yourself as you establish your routines and find what works for you. Remember your best today might not ne your best tomorrow. Some days the best I can do is drink my cup of tea as I drive down the highway, other times its that nice meditatve walk.

Find what works for you, day to day, hour to hour and remember be kind yourself. You're not just a meat suit who needs to accomplish everything and anything right here right now, your stardust that deserves to enjoy and cherish those happy experiences that can find you if you step out of judgement and into self love.

Remember this is just my personal experience, and you can take it with a grain of salt, a speck of sugar or just toss it over your shoulder.

I'm exhausted since sleep is a elusive mistress that likes to come and go but I hope this makes sense and maybe helps you enjoy your day a little bit more.

~Admin Cryptid

[tacomic-discourse]

I don't usually comment on these type of discourses, but tacomic haters who make it everyone elses problem are just wasting their energy. If you hate tacomic, whatever! yk! You have the right to hate anything you want. Just please dont make it everyone elses problem bc you think its shit, just block and do something with your time. You will not be on your death bed after wasting all your time discoursing thinking, "Man, I shouldve wasted More time With Tacomic Discourse!"

There is nothing wrong with having passion for characters and ii. Most of the osc is autistic. Its okay to get angry, its a feeling you cant really stop, BUT Its YOU! who can do something with it thats worthwhile. instead of making your anger everyone elses Problem, block people and get a hobby. Get something fun to do. It can be cheap, you can just stand outside and get into your native wildlife or bird watch. I love learning about my native flowers and bird and what they do. You can journal, journals are cheap as hell. Feeding into this anger and vagueing people and talking shit about people you dont know in your discord servers will not make you feel better. Just because youre the most angry doesnt mean youre the most just.

To put it into perspective, The people you are mad at have totally different lives than you. They have different experiences, Different cultures, Different values, different perspectives on life. So many differences, you couldnt possibly conceptualize it all. Of course people who come from wildly different cultures -- have different experiences and values and perspectives-- have a different interpretation of your fav character

Justin, as well as the other members of the crew, have all put their 2 cents into this. (Peoples different interpretations on things not Tacomic discourse lol) Justin Specifically has said that other peoples interpretations and headcanons, are just as canon as "canon". Bc all canon is, is what peoples take from it. Its completely up to interpretation. And interpretation is not something quantifiable. Someone could say that all of ii is in mephones head, and while i dont like that interpretation, it is just as valid as any other. It holds value to THAT person, even if i dont get it.

You do not Have to like anyones ideas or interpretations. You can think its against a characters actions that character would be or do xyz. And no ones making you. But have some kindness for the person on the other side of the screen. Theres a living, breathing person on that side just like you. with a totally different life and different perspective. You can take the time to talk and learn their perspective, or you can block and protect your peace.

One day ii will end and the fandom will fizzle out. Please save your time surrounding yourself with fan work and friends that make you happy . Do not surround yourself and surround your days getting mad at discourse. and trying to convince people who have already made up ur mind.

.

[ace-malarky]

Daring

in which we learn not to dare Summer but also she uh. she would like someone to call her bluff, perhaps

~~

Summer leant forward over the table, grinning at April. “It’s only chance, isn’t it?”

“I don’t like how much it’s been in your favour. Are these dice loaded or something?” April grabbed them up and shook them by her ear.

Summer snorted. “You’ve been using the same dice! How would they only be loaded for me?”

“I don’t know, maybe there’s a switch, or they’re magnetised or something.” April threw the dice into her tray.

The dice rolled across the tray, bumped into each other and came up a handful of low numbers; not all ones, but low enough that April couldn’t hope to put a dent in Summer’s lead.

“I wouldn’t dare.” Summer hadn’t stopped grinning.

April narrowed her eyes. She reached for the crisps. “One of your siblings could have.”

“No we wouldn’t have,” Casey called from the next room over. “We take cheating very seriously in this household.”

“Hey, butt out!” Summer yelled back.

Casey laughed. “I’m defending your honour!”

“It doesn’t need it!”

“I don’t think you have any,” April said, and threw a crisp at Summer.

It bounced off her arm and hit the floor.

“Oh, those are fighting words.” Summer snapped her attention back to April.

“All’s fair in love and war, isn’t it?” April pushed back from the table, further onto the couch.

“If that were the case, you wouldn’t accuse me of cheating.” Summer grinned, shifting onto her knees to have more stretch over the table.

“Well – ah – games are… different?” April flicked her gaze down to the board between them. “Speaking of–”

“Do you want to cement your loss?” Summer sat back, one foot up on the beanbag and an arm wrapped around her knee.

April snorted. “I could still turn this around.

“Sure.” Summer took the dice and shook them into her tray.

They rolled into a jumble of numbers, enough to get Summer to the end of the board.

“You were saying?”

April scoffed. “Hey, shut the fuck–” She broke off as Summer threw a gummy bear at her. “Hey!” She slapped a hand against her arm to catch the sweet. “Don’t waste them.”

“What, are you going to let that stop you?”

“I know where these clothes have been!”

“Hand it over then.” Summer held out her hand.

“What, so you can throw it again?”

“No, so I can eat it. What do you take me for?”

“Gross.” April narrowed her eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

“We don’t waste food in this house.”

“It’s not a strict adherence, exactly–” Casey broke off in a laugh.

“I told you to butt out!”

“Wait, what does this mean for the crisp I threw at you?”

“Oh, you mean this one?” Summer reached down to pick it up.

“Please don’t, it’s been there for a while.”

Summer shrugged, puffed a breath over the crisp, and ate it.

“Well that’s horrifying.”

“Good for the immune system or something.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.” April dropped the gummy bear onto her plate amongst the crumbs of the pizza.

“The moral of this story is that you should never say anything even remotely dare-like to Summer.” Casey entered the room and dropped onto the nearest chair. “She isn’t fond of backing down.”

April shifted on the couch to face him. “Oh, so she’s always been like this?”

“Long as I’ve known her.”

“Even before–” April caught herself. “No, sorry. Never mind that.”

Summer settled back on her beanbag. “Not so much,” she said in reply to April’s half asked question. “So you can probably blame Casey, actually.” She grinned at him.

“Well, I get it from Kari, so actually it’s her fault.”

Summer laughed. “Bold save.”

Casey waved a hand in acknowledgement, taking a long drink from his bottle.

“The more I hear about Kari, the more worried I am about meeting her.” April settled back on the couch. “She seems…” she trailed off.

“No, she’s really nice.”

“High energy,” Casey supplied.

“Don’t start describing her like a dog.”

April laughed. “Is this what having siblings is like?”

“Depends what brand of siblings you get.” Summer shrugged.

Casey stretched out to grab at the crisps.

Summer pulled them back out of reach. “I didn’t hear a please.”

“Oh come on! They’re clearly in the sharing bowl!”

“Sure, for people who don’t interrupt a hangout.” She offered the bowl to April.

“Oh, don’t – don’t bring me into this.” April took the bowl all the same, holding it close to her chest.

Casey sighed, shifting about on the chair to lie across it, one armrest under his head and the other under his knees. “It’s a cruel, cruel life to be surrounded by sisters who don’t care that I’m wasting away.”

“Sucks to be you.”

“I mean…” April glanced down at the bowl in her arms. “We’re not going to eat all of these.”

“Oh, I like her. I like you, you’re one of her better friends.”

“We could. I could.” Summer straightened off her beanbag, leaning over the table. “Easy.”

April snorted. “I’m not enabling that.” She placed the bowl back on the table, in reach of everyone.

“To be clear, Summer, no one is daring you to eat the rest of the crisps.” Casey reached for a handful. “Besides, you should probably finish your game.”

“Oh, we have. I won.” Summer locked eyes with April, a grin curling across her face. “Which means I get a prize, right?”

“Right,” April said cautiously. “Did we – can we put limits on that? Only I’m saving up for something.”

“Oh, monetary prizes are for people who already have money.” Summer waved her hand.

“Makes sense,” Casey said, muffled around a handful of crisps. “Don’t scare her off.”

“I won’t.” Summer rolled her eyes.

“Wait, why would you even need to warn her off.” April flicked her gaze between them.

“How do you feel about dares?” Summer asked.

“As long as they’re not dangerous?”

“Of course. We’ve lost siblings that way.”

Casey burst out laughing. “Oh my god, Summer, what the fuck.”

She shrugged, grinning, unrepentant.

“A hazard to know,” Casey said to April. “Don’t let her escalate.”

“Right, yes.” Summer turned her attention back to April. “A dare.” She wriggled on her perch. “How about a kiss for the victor?”

“What?” April blinked at her.

Casey flicked his gaze between them, hand in the bowl of crisps.

“Back of the hand,” Summer said, holding hers out across the table. “You know. Princess style.”

Casey pulled the bowl back out of the way, shrinking to the sidelines.

April shuffled forward on the couch so she could reach and gingerly took Summer’s hand. She swept her thumb down the side of Summer’s n a nervous sort of movement, and Summer’s mouth went dry.

It had gone uncomfortably quiet.

“Like this?” April brushed a kiss across the back of Summer’s hand and looked up.

“Yeah.” Summer had to swallow before she could speak. “Yeah, that – that’s good.”

April sat back on the couch, Summer’s hand slipping slowly out of hers. “What next?”

Summer’s stomach flipped.

[tommarvoloriddlesdiary]

Darling can you please do

[ same age AU, Budding Dark Lord, Oblivious Harry,]

no:10 [ stop staring at him ]

With Tom Riddle looking at Harry with burning hate and loathing but to everyone else it seems he's in completely love with harry and adores him

(Basically a simp) when tom does get to know this he's affronted and in shock then the slow realization sets in that he truly does feel something for Harry , after all.

LOVE AND HATE DOES HAVE A THIN LINE .

i would love to! this was a blast, though i got a bit carried away. even more so than the last prompt 😅 and this cuts off a bit abruptly because if i had kept it going it would have been triple the length 😬 i really hope you enjoy this! and if anyone else wants to send a prompt, please feel free. you can make your own or pick from here.

-

“Oh no.” 

Tom looked up from Draco’s copy of the Daily Prophet. Pansy had drawled the words with a derision she only saved for two things in this world; One: A new Witch Weekly fashion trend that simply wouldn’t do. And Two: Harry Potter.

Breakfast was well underway. The clattering and chattering of students digging in and delighting in the first Hogsmeade weekend of the school year had the hall alight with feverous energy. The excitement to spend the day ransacking the little wizarding village and breaking away from the now monotonous daily life that Hogwarts provided always seemed to spur on the mischievous and untoward.

Tom glanced at Pansy’s hands (holding nothing save for a fork she clutched tightly) and at the table before her (displaying simply her morning meal) and concluded that there were no Witch Weekly fashion trends to bemoan. Which meant somewhere (and more than likely too close), Harry Potter was within sight.

“Just one morning,” Pansy muttered. “Just one Merlin damned morning. That’s all I want. Some Morgana blessed peace and quiet.”

If what he thought was happening was happening, then Tom would have to agree. And if he were a lesser man, he would nod slowly in commiseration. 

“Prefects Riddle and Parkinson,” Hermione Granger called from just behind Tom, her voice polite and inquiring. Her timing impeccable. “Good morning.”

Pansy’s grip on her fork somehow grew tighter, leaving her hands impressively pale. Tom carefully shifted around to look up and over his shoulder; his eyes barely met Granger’s before landing on Potter’s. 

Tom did not like Harry Potter. He constantly felt like he was on eggshells around him, especially after that incident two years ago. Potter hadn’t said anything at the time, but Tom was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. He hadn’t taken Potter as someone who would hold his cards close until the right possible moment, but he always seemed to surprise Tom in unexpected ways. Potter was a living, breathing menace.

“Prefects Potter and Granger,” Tom’s voice was smooth and quiet under the noise of the hall. “To what do we owe the visit?”

Tom could make a few educated guesses. Although, it was rare for any Gryffindor Prefects to make their way over to Slytherin territory. They tended to avoid crossing the hall like the plague, feeling much safer and stronger when approached versus approaching. Very un-lion like, if one were to ask Tom. So, with such a rare occurrence, it was more than likely that a professor had requested something of them.

Granger cleared her throat, and Tom stopped glaring at Potter long enough to acknowledge her properly. “Professor McGonagall requested that we pair off for Hogsmeade duties. Given Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw’s poor handling of last year’s final weekend, she suggests we divide our pairs with one prefect from each house.”

Suggests, in McGonagall’s speech, typically meant insists. Pansy clearly caught on to this as well because she protested vehemently, swinging her fork like a weapon, “There is no way I’m going to waste my Hogsmeade weekend patrolling it with one of you two Gryffindorks! I’d rather take a bombarda to the face!”

And though Pansy was often times overdramatic to a fault, Tom could see the appeal of that. With her by-the-book attitude, Granger would ideally be a good fit for Tom’s Prefect Persona, but they often butted heads over the most minor things. Tom’s goals were always self-oriented, and when presented with a good enough bribe resulting in excellent blackmail or a chance to have someone ingratiated with him, he would almost always rather that than hand out proper punishment. He couldn’t do that with Granger hovering around. And Potter was Potter. 

Potter’s brows rose at Pansy’s little teardown, “Parkinson, you would have had to patrol no matter what. If that means by yourself or with one of us, what’s the big difference?”

“The big difference?! Obviously, just being near you two breaks me out into hives—“

Granger interrupted with a put-out sigh, “It’s just for the morning! Until we are relieved by Macmillan, Abbott, Goldstein, and Patil during lunch, it’s not like we’re spending all day together.”

“Yeah, Parkinson,” Potter smiled teasingly, “It’s not like you’re going on a date with us.”

Tom glanced back at Pansy when she didn’t respond with scathing and cruel words as he had expected. Instead, she was bright red and nearly vibrating with anger. Tom nodded once, “If Professor McGonagall expects this of us, we’ll do it.” 

And when Pansy opened her mouth, no doubt to protest further, Tom frowned slightly and watched as she immediately snapped her mouth shut, going pale again. “Right. Yes, of course. Tom is right, obviously.” 

“There,” Tom dawned his most charming and careless grin, “it’s settled, then.” He paused, considering. Granger would be a hassle to patrol with, and Potter is someone Tom wants to choke to death, but maybe there was a way to turn this inconvenience into an opportunity. 

If he could get something on Potter, something of equal value to what Potter had on Tom, then perhaps he could gain an edge, and they would, at the very least, be at a stalemate. So, Tom continued, “Granger, why don’t you and Pansy patrol the north end of Hogsmeade while Potter and I take the south? We’ll meet in the middle by lunch and wait for our replacements.”

Tom watched Granger and Potter share a glance that spoke of too many things and nothing all at once. He could make out a healthy dose of confusion and surprise, but there was a long history of shared glances and a secret language that Tom wasn’t privy to that kept him out of the loop. 

“Sure,” Potter nodded and replied for her. He looked back at Tom and smiled softly, “Let us know when you’re done with breakfast.” And Tom couldn’t help but think that Potter should wear a bag over his head. To hide his ugly scheming face from the world, of course.

Tom’s answering smile was strained but enough for Granger and Potter to take their leave. He turned back in his seat to find Pansy’s head buried in her arms and her plate pushed away but not far enough for a few strands of her dark hair to be spared of egg yolk. 

“How could you do this to us, Tom?” Pansy muffled into her sleeves, sounding stricken and betrayed.

“Pull yourself together, Parkinson. You can make nice with Granger for one morning.”

She peered over her arms and glared. Tom watched her hesitate, debating her next words before she threw caution to the wind and mumbled, “I’m sure you’ll just love making nice with Potter.”

Tom was ready to dismiss the comment, but there was something about the implications and her undertone that made him pause. Before he could ask, Draco fell into the seat beside him, “Was that Potter and Granger I saw walking away from the table? What did they want?”

Pansy shot up, overjoyed to have someone to rant further with. “They wanted to ruin the peace and sanctity of MY precious Hogsmeade weekend, of course! Tom and I have to patrol in pairs with them because McGonagall clearly has a death wish for her little Gryffindors.”

“What,” Draco scoffed. “Absolutely not. Tell me you said no.”

“I didn’t have a choice. Tom agreed for us.”

Tom sighed, “Say it with any more resentment, Pansy dear, and I’ll think you’re truly upset with me. You act like this is how I wished to spend the day.” And that was another worry; Tom pondered while Draco tried to steal his Prophet back from Tom’s grip. He did have errands to run in Hogsmeade today, and he doubted Potter would be willing to tag along. Even if Tom went about his business casually, Potter might still catch on to what he was planning with the items he needed, which was far too great a risk.

Pansy whined, “How can I believe you when you threw me to Granger faster than Potter can catch a snitch?”

Draco dropped his hand and whipped his head from Pansy to Tom twice over. “Oh, Merlin. Is it happening? Is it finally happening?”

“Don’t act so excited, Draco,” Pansy sniffed, “It’s happening at my expense. I am a casualty in this.”

Tom’s brows furrowed for a moment. Was he missing something? “Is what happening?”

“You’re finally confessing your love for Potter,” Draco and Pansy announced in jarring unison. They said it like it was a fact, like it was obvious.

Tom, blindsided, could only say, “What?”

“You’ve been obsessed with him for years,” Draco carried on, as-you-please. “You stare at him all the time, sit near him during classes, and partner with him during Defence practicals,” He listed off all of Tom’s alleged habits one by one on his fingers, “You mutter about him constantly—I sometimes catch you doing it when you sleep—and whenever he finds a good enough reason to ask you something, you bend over backwards to comply.”

Tom did no such thing. That is ridiculous. So, he said as much, “That is ridiculous. I do no such thing.”

Pansy rolled her eyes, “You’re ridiculous.”

Tom’s answering glare was enough to turn a man to stone and Pansy to a quick escape. “Anyway!” She shouted, “Let’s just get going! We’ll grab Potter and Granger and make our way to the village.” She muttered at the end, “I’m sure this won’t be awkward at all.”

She jumped out of her seat and walked to the end of the table to wait for Tom with a surprising amount of patience. Draco just shook his head and sighed, “And here I thought you were making some progress.”

Tom turned slowly to look at Draco head-on. He smiled a perfectly pleasant and sinister thing, “Draco. It would be wise not to let your mouth undo the years of work you’ve done to prove your usefulness.” He stood up and carefully folded the Prophet, finally passing it back. 

Draco accepted it green-faced and wide-eyed, “I’ll be mindful of that.”

“Excellent.” Tom excused himself and followed Pansy to the Gryffindor table. He couldn’t believe she and Draco thought Potter was someone Tom was…infatuated with. How could they not see Tom’s apparent disdain and loathing for him? How could they mistake Tom’s clearly coerced actions in an attempt to keep Potter from revealing Tom’s secret for some misguided want to please him? 

What was there to like about Potter anyway? Tom wondered as Pansy said, “Chop chop! Let’s go, losers. Breakfast is over, and I don’t want to get trampled by the morning rush down to the village.”

The Gryffindors around Granger and Potter all looked at their housemates with various forms of pity. Then, Weasley laughed, “Yeah, Parkinson. No one would want that.” And his sarcasm was met with poorly muffled giggles.

“Ron,” Granger chastised and stood along with Potter. “Yes, yes. Let’s go. We have to make sure the third-years don’t wander.”

Granger naturally kept a quick pace, leaving Tom, Potter, and Pansy trailing after her. Pansy dragged her feet so she lingered even further behind, and Tom carefully kept stride with Potter while they all walked out of the Great Hall.

Tom took in Potter’s face with a close inspection. He supposed his earlier remarks of Potter’s ugliness weren’t exactly founded. Objectively, Potter had a sort of boyish handsomeness. Not at all like Tom’s more classic handsome with features sharp and forever in vogue. No, Potter was a little softer. A strong jaw without it being cutting, pronounced but not overly so cheekbones, a long mouth and full lips that were in a perpetual state of dryness…

Tom felt an odd stirring in his chest and disregarded it.

So. Potter wasn’t ugly. His dark hair and green eyes indeed lent a hand as well. Tom supposed that was something to like about Potter. Objectively. Subjectively for some, but not for Tom. 

When Tom tore his eyes away from Potter to glance at their other two companions, Pansy’s look of utter despair and Granger’s quiet amusement felt like an omen. And when they reached the main doors, the brisk autumn air greeted them with an overbearing familiarity. 

Potter hunched his shoulders at the cold, smiling. “Chilly today,” he said.

Granger sighed like an overworked mother of two and started rifling through her beaded bag. She frowned when it became apparent that whatever she sought wasn’t there, “Oh. Sorry, Harry. I thought I brought a scarf, but I must have left it in the dormitory.”

“It’s alright, Hermio-“ Potter cut himself off and glanced down at his hands in surprise. 

Tom tucked away his wand and carelessly continued walking. “We’re wizards; I do hope you remember.”

Pansy snorted inelegantly and jogged lightly to catch up to Tom. She gave him an impressed look and two thumbs up before damning herself to hell for all eternity, “Nice one, Tom. Potter’s bound to fancy you back with all the suave chivalry.”

Behind them, Tom could hear Potter and Granger exchanging soft words. “Pansy. Stop talking,” he hissed. This was getting absurd.

Pansy shrugged but walked silently down to Hogsmeade for the rest of their journey. And when it was time to split apart, Granger and Pansy waving—or, rather, flipping them off from Pansy—as they set off to the northern parts of the village, the leftover silence between Tom and Potter turned…awkward. 

That was the only word Tom could describe it with. Awkward. He immediately cursed Pansy for jinxing it earlier. Tom was decidedly never awkward about anything, having drilled out any sort of gracelessness or inconvenient feelings long ago. But after briefly exploring Potter’s objective handsomeness, suddenly being alone with him felt awkward. 

“So, Riddle,” Potter began, saving them from the disquiet, “how’s your start of term been going?”

Tom had no idea where Potter was going with this and felt on edge. But he responded, “Well. And yours?”

“Yeah, no, it’s been good,” Potter nodded a little too quickly. His lashes fluttered with his roaming eyes. Eyes that were looking anywhere and everywhere except at Tom.

Potter had a small beauty mark at the curl of his jaw just beside his—

Stop staring at him. Tom reprimanded his own eyes. Once again catching himself paying too close attention to Potter’s face. He focused on surveying the village.

Their patrolling took them through the sparse beginnings of the morning Hogsmeade rush; the laughter of students and carefree happiness of the townsfolk provided a charming scene to the golden autumn backdrop. Tom was struck with the realisation that his goal of finding Potter’s secrets wouldn’t be met if they continued on silent—but…there was something rather companionable about all of this.

And now that Tom was spiralling down that thought path, he was caught off guard by how simply…nice…this was. He had thought Potter would be annoying, rambunctious, and generally disagreeable, but the reality turned out to be quite the opposite. Potter’s quiet enjoyment of their surroundings was like a magnet, and Tom felt himself slowly gravitating towards it. 

“Riddle, do you mind if we stop by Honeydukes?” Potter asked, perking up at the sight of the sweet shop just ahead.

Tom was ready to disagree, not because he didn’t want Potter to shop—actually, it would be a great benefit if Potter did shop, just so Tom could suggest they go to some of the places he wanted to visit as well—but because he didn’t want to deal with the large crowds of students intending to stockpile their sweets to last until the next Hogsmeade weekend. Tom supposed this is what he got for finding pleasure in another’s company.

But while Tom was still weighing the pros and cons of saying yes, they had already arrived, and Potter had taken his silence as consent, entering the shop with practised ease. Evading crowding bodies left and right. Tom sighed and followed carefully, having decided he’d rather have Potter nearby and within sight than the opposite. 

Potter selected a few candies, prattling on about who preferred what from his little group of friends. It only occurred to Tom that Potter hadn’t seemed to be getting anything for himself when Potter had asked, “Would you like anything?”

Tom blinked twice in quick succession, “Pardon?”

“Do you have a favourite sweet? Anything you’d like?”

Did…did Tom have a favourite sweet? Was Potter being serious? “Why?”

“Just offering,” Potter shrugged but waited. He stared at Tom with a ready patience. It seemed as though Tom would be answering, or they would be trapped here forever. 

This is another thing, Tom thought, that one could possibly like about Potter. He was alarmingly kind towards others. Offering, gifting, teaching, helping—Tom had seen Potter do all these things and more. Yet, Tom had dismissed it as a weakness, a foolish pandering that made Potter less than. 

But held in the steady gaze Potter had laid upon him, Tom felt that, if it truly were a weakness, Potter wouldn’t look so strong and self-assured at this moment. An answer slipped out of Tom unbidden, “White Chocolate Skulls.”

Potter’s face turned fascinated, his eyes widened behind his wireframes, and his mouth fell open ever so slightly. “White Chocolate Skulls? Riddle, do you have a sweet tooth?”

Tom nearly bristled, “I do not have a sweet tooth.”

“I beg to differ,” Potter smiled like he was holding back a laugh. “White chocolate is the sweetest chocolate they make,” he shook his head and continued, walking further into the shop and towards the Skulls, “I really would’ve pegged you as a Licorice Snap kinda guy.”

Tom made a face, and Potter caught the look and couldn’t hold himself back any longer. His pearling laughter caused a few heads to turn, and Tom strung tight like a bow at the sudden urge to smuggle Potter away, to keep his laughter only for Tom’s ears—

Tom paused. That was a strong reaction. He breathed through it while he picked apart what exactly was going on.

Did he like Potter? Did Tom like him enough to want to keep Potter all to himself? And had he been so obvious that Pansy and Draco had known for years and he hadn’t?

Tom had an unsettling feeling that this could all be traced back to the incident from two years ago and refused to look any further into it.

[v4mpyrebat]

Love From The Other Side - Chapter 3

this ones a bit shorter, but leads up to big thing! had a rough past two weeks, but trying to stay consistent this time and work at my own pace. enjoyyy! once again, available on AO3 or below the cut, tell me your thoughts!

“Don’t waste the only time you have left.”

It wasn’t the words themself that bothered Spencer, but the implications behind them.

For some reason unbeknownst to himself, the thought of everything being for nothing was something that hadn’t bothered him until now. ...now.

Perhaps it had been because he had basically no social contact for the past…ever. And so the only beliefs he ever lived with came from the unfaltering self-assured nonsense that spewed from his brain.

Guess a reality check from someone else was enough to spiral his entire thought process – a kind of spiraling that hadn’t ever affected him up until the war.

Sometimes he missed that miserable, self-confident son of a bitch that was his younger self.

The sun began to set around him as he made his way home and out of the city. The scenery around him was about as disheveled as he felt, but suppose it makes sense as we are all products of our environment. That deep feeling of hopelessness crawled at his stomach and tugged at him, making this walk far more of a hindrance than Spencer cared for. ...for.

Emotions like this did not serve him. They were a waste of energy and only proved to waste his time.

Okay, so he was wasting time by trying to save the universe. He was wasting time by feeling emotional about wasting time.

But what the hell is time if there is no future?

What even constitutes there being a future if you have no hope for one?

As he walked, he soaked in the sights of the city that he rarely ever saw. He wondered how many people once lived and used these buildings regularly, and even then, how many of them died in the carnage and now in death had nothing of remembrance to their prior existence. What a shitty way to go out – with no one to remember who you were, and no one to remember what you’ve done.

The totaled cars, the abandoned pieces of trash, and the faded shadows of those who once stood.

This was all proof that people were here. Proof that, despite how shitty the world even used to be, people lived. Lived in spite of themselves, in spite of their conditions – no matter how mundane they may seem even now. They were here because they were here. No rhyme, no reason.

Years ago, Spencer might've thought it was the end of the world when the internet cut out, yet it never truly deeply bothered him as much as he said or felt it did.

Now, at the end of the world, the mundane was seldom, and living in spite of yourself was dying because death felt more alive than living itself.

Taking in a deep breath, Spencer stopped in his tracks, taking a moment to rest. He had a long way back anyways.

The question of “why” popped back into his head again.

Why was he doing all this if he had no one who cared for him? Did he have anything to live for, something to work for?

Why did it matter so much to him? It wasn’t as if he originally did much with his life.

Yeah, yeah, saving billions of lives for people who don’t know him, won’t notice, and won’t care.

Throughout the years, it had always been his dream to wake up from this nightmare, as if it was once again just a normal Tuesday, and the apocalypse was simply something idealized in movies. But would he save the world, would all this suffering be for nothing?

Stuck in his thoughts, it took Spencer a moment before he checked back into reality.

A booming, ear-bleeding metal droning suddenly bombarded his ears. As the sound hovered over him, upon instinct he ducked into the nearest building and slid down against the concrete wall, choosing to hide under what little ceiling was left. Rubble surrounded him, and as the sun set, there went his only source of light as it slowly faded from the broken cracks in the wall and ceiling.

Loud stomps from outside shook the ground around him, as he attempted to regain his composure. Go figure, a tripod. Most likely it was coming back for its friend that Ghost had far too much fun killing.

Though, what truly startled Spencer wasn’t the tripod.

It was what was inside the room with him. ...him.

His breath hitched as he tried to force his eyes to adjust to the spreading darkness, trying to analyze the danger level of his current situation.

There was a sound he could hear, barely audible over the loud yowls of the creature outside.

He finally got a good look around the room, and when he did, his heart dropped to his stomach.

Far in the corner, it sat, huddled up and shaking immensely with fear, soft sobs echoing from its form.

This was no creature…

It was a child.

[jude-thedude98]

I ain't got the capacity

Or audacity

To be nasty

Like the ones who been

Takin advantage of me.

I realize now

That I wasted my time

Listenin to yall

Too busy trashin me.

Like I'm the garbage boy

Of your emotions.

But tell me how I been Ursula givin yall love potions

N I'm the one that got my voice unspoken.

This bond I had with pleasing and oeace

I say piece.

To the middle east.

N to the best in the west

I hope yo Adam's apples

Lose yo batman pants.

Cause on fhis Eve

I see the snakes in the green.

They say the grass is always greener

But I say breathe.

Because what may look good

Does not always smell good.

Use your census.

The inner emotions in your body

Can commonly pay for your cejts

It's a sense in

Being not nonsenses.

I quit sensing

The helpless n

Saving yalfor Heaven's senses.

Well here's one cent in

A penny for my thought.

I'm as honest as an Abe Lincoln

Because four score and seven years ago

I seen this scene n

It all makes sense in

My head.

So I'm done with the dead pwn.

The dead pool.

I'm a spider man

I feed off my own drool.

Salivatin

Tarantula nation.

I got the venom

To start and stop a whole nation.

Eo this my placement.

I don't need your validation.

Asking or better yet

Tellin me

To sign my name next to X's placements.

Well I'm Malcolm and Martin

I'm 13 plus 13

I'm here to wake the 26 nation.

That's the Z Nation.

Too many zombies not waking.

But if you stay awake in

This moment you will never die.

So try more better

To use your own gifts as your own

Advantage

Instead of using other people's energy

And vampire blood

Life takin'

[adiaryofsortsformythoughts]

fighting bc i try to help w the laundry and put three of your shirts in the dryer.

you ask me ‘why’ i felt the need when you would do it, ‘why’ i cant just ‘let you help’ so i go inward because i truly cannot pin down why i was driven to do it. why i did it without telling you bc i knew you would tell me not to.

and why can’t i just accept the criticism? I did the wrong thing and i know it. but i hear myself justify and defend before i even think it. i cannot have you thinking i’m a fuck up. i need you to see me as someone who makes no mistakes. my body lets me down. naturally i am bad at things. disabled from being able. but i then feel like i cannot fall short in any other way. i must be perfect in all other aspects. because i am lucky-

-to have my life, my voice, my mind. to be able to do the things i can, and to have done what i’ve done. i proved to myself i can survive on my own. but now i have a partner right there to share the burdens, to pick up the slack and compliment the scales.

but why do i still convince myself that you are hiding your resentment of me? you are not one to swallow your feelings, you’re not secretly wishing i would do more. you just love me and i need to let you. you tell me and i need to hear you.

everything was going so well. but i disregard your preferences. i think they’re silly sometimes. and i’m not listening when you say the ten minute task of hanging washing is easy. i cannot fathom being able to do that in any less than thirty. feeling anywhere between stiff discomfort and aching pain. i tried to save you the pain that you do not experience. how does that make sense?

in part, i like the freedom of using the dryer. it feels self sufficient, accomplished, independent, manageable. and hanging is taxing. and you are so particular, i would do it wrong.

and how do i stop myself from panicking at the first sign of frustration from you? nothing will happen. you won’t yell. you won’t lash out. you won’t leave. you deserve the space to feel big things and it’s selfish of me to fill it first. especially when i am in the wrong.

why does the mistake lift my heart into my throat? why can’t i suppress that fear? why have i always struggled with this? the instinct to cry and cower and appease is so counter productive; a waste of energy and time.

breathe breathe breathe. do better.

[bombshellxmichelle]

manifest the mindset of “ew, I’m not putting that in my body”

I’m actually so proud of my sober journey and I love it..

Like why do I need to drink alcohol? When I have so much fun as is?

It’s so bad for the liver, causes so much swelling and bloating, can’t drive on it. Terrible hangover the next day + negative ass thoughts.

Something is changing and feels new.

I love my new boobs because it makes my waist so much slimmer too. Like I fucking love long legs and no armpit fat and slimmer arms like this is so fucking cool, making my little girl wishes dreams come true :’) I’m so fking happy.

My standards are so fucking higher now.

How I feel in a relationship - to be chased everyday. To feel loved everyday. To be reminded every single morning that I’m on their mind. To be their dream girl and someone they can’t go a day without.

Let them prove it to me what their feelings are. Let them prove it to me how much I mean to them.

That’s the only way to rule out from the fakes.

The acts of service, being made sure I am safe, asking how my day went, wanting the best for me, making sure my relationship with my parents are good, asking how my parents are, feeling provided for and taken care of for financially, being handed money because they love you.

Packing me food to go to work, surprising me with flowers.

All I need to master is emotional detachment and control over my emotions.

All I need to do is to never act out on any extreme feelings ever ever again. Take yourself really fucking seriously, and everything will follow through. You have gone through night shifts like girl comeon. Saving lives then attending classes. Sleep, of course, but remember to fucking hustle.

Don’t stop chasing your dreams and become the absolute fucking dream woman that my ex’s can never have again. I will never be devalued. I will treat myself with upmost respect and only be around men who make me feel loved, taken care of, protected, kept safe, valued and desired at all times. Considered and thought of, even when I am not there. I do not need to chase anybody, men never have been and never will be the prize. And any man who thinks the opposite is literally not around the same air I breathe.

I am not a man’s trophy, I am a man’s treasure.

I only attract the absolute best.

Being kind, being caring, being sweet, spoiling my loved ones. Never EVER stingy with my loved ones. I have to remember how important it is because of integrity, God is watching, and scores are kept. If not them, ME. MY subconscious keeps score. Do what is right. Don’t do what is not nice or unkind. Always keep your hands clean and always just do it, especially when giving love.

The best woman, the dream woman, is the female best version of him.

She stays positive, she is in a relationship with herself first and always on the pursuit of improvement, self happiness. Only give them a taste. Never waste my energy or my time “convincing” a man, yes explain and show them who you are, yes state what your needs are. Yes let it be clear what your standards are.

But never, ever BEG, or attempt to change their minds. Just state how you feel and what you need. Whatever goes on in their head and whatever choices they make is up to them. The most I can do is show, the most I can do is just be the amazing me. And this will go so far beyond measures.

I wish O the best, and I wish S the best.

Thank you S for tolerating so much of my abandonment issues and loving me despite them. Thank you for being my first love of my life and serious relationship, I forgive you for needing to make your family happy. But I will never forget how you withheld the truth countless times, and looked me in the eyes with both obsession+love and other times, desperation to convince me into the truth of your lies. Thank you for giving me butterflies and

Thank you O for showing me what a possessive, jealous man be like. It was a really fun ride. But also thank you for showing me how insecure you really were, yet it was so bittersweet. You wore your heart on your sleeve and truly gave me the most you could despite your P addiction and poor lifestyle. You were always in trouble with something I could tell there were careless mistakes made; you were actually a mirror of some shit I was going through too. Thank you for mirroring my toxic statements and actions because it showed me how hurtful it was. And it makes me reflect upon S for how many times I said such vicious, cold words.

The side of me when she is filled with rage is so unpredictable, a rage that fills my bones and cannot be tamed. It’s another world. The swollen eyes in the morning and sunken feeling in the bottomest pit of my heart, the tragedy and the despair like there will not another tomorrow. Feeling the world shattering into pieces and consumed by the dread to not exist, the mind coping by thinking of suicide. It’s fucking scary.

There’s still so much more work to do.

- never bite the hand that feeds you;

- trust is earned and can take one careless, poor mistake to break and a lot of time to repair.

- never hurt your reputation or dignity or self respect for a chomp of change or 24 hours of pleasure. stand on your principles, have fun, but at least keep it fucking on the low and do not be sharing the details, or is no one else’s business. always remember that actions have consequences.

- there is no more room for carelessness. Get serious about your discipline, get serious about your future. Get serious about your mental, physical, spiritual and emotional well-being and do not let anybody stray you from your path. You’re on a mission until the grave or until you become pregnant and raise your healthy, beautiful and unconditionally loved children.

- no man would ever stop you from doing what is absolutely the best for you. they support you through everything and push you to the finish line.

- a thoughtful man who genuinely cares about you is gentle even when he is angry. He will not dare hurt you;

Let the red flags reveal itself.

His character really showed me who he was when he devalued me, “never cared, never will 😘” exactly you ain’t my bf so why do you care, and still responding, wanting to convince him, GIRL PUT THAT PHONE DOWN AND LIVE YOUR LIFE. I should’ve never lost face and just given him the absolute silent treatment. He could’ve gone nuts just wondering how the fuck I moved if I had just gone silent after he said those vicious words.

Master detachment. Don’t even let it hurt me. You need to imagine a shield, a porcupine. A shiny porcupine where all those things are simply others bullshit. I will not absorb it, I refuse to fuse or lose myself. I am never in too deep or attached to the expectations or the outcomes.

Unkind words are just a dealbreaker for me.

Then he accused me of having taken his watch. When someone accuses me of stealing from them.. that really hurts me as well. How come? I would only ADD value, love and pour love into my loved ones. I would never harm my loved ones like that. Because I would NEVER, EVER take something from someone in deliberate intention of making them lose something valuable to them. I would never ever ever until my grave take something from someone without them knowing. I would never backstab or throw someone under the bus like that. And despite my character, my sweet and caring and thoughtful self.. maybe also because I have stolen before. From a stranger once or twice like a hoe with a trick. Or from corporation. I have stolen before and know exactly right from wrong of stealing. So for someone I have once loved to have accused me of it is absolutely BETRAYAL.

R- I genuinely thought he knew. He was just protecting his own disappointment onto me. And the way he handled the conflict just shows the kind of relationships he has in his own life.

Conflict is a very, very tender and touchy subject.

Time for me to dive deeper into it and learn more. Time for me to explore and learn more. Time to take deep breaths, choose your words carefully, practice mindfulness. I will never forget how calm I was at Denise’s just chilling, and letting him reveal his own character to me.

Trying to make me jealous with how he has girls all around him… I think that’s just true insecurity to make sure he has his supply around because he KNOWS that a beautiful woman will always be highly desired. He just wanted to be reminded that he was my priority.

Me telling him was me trying to establish “trust” LMAO. It was honestly stupid and careless as FUCK. I forgive myself though because I just didn’t know how to play my next move. I didn’t know it would upset him, because he used other girls, so I’m like ok I’ll use other guys as a weapon. It was my first time ): and I had to up the score 😈

As long as he knows that I can play the game better, and next time I just don’t have to open my mouth or show any interest or any action to actually follow through. Just let them know that they’re around.

That’s another dealbreaker… to try and use other women to power trip me or make me jealous. LOL go!! Idgaf. I can value you, appreciate you, prioritize you, but if you enjoy the attention of other women instead of only mine, or if you’re trying to show that you’re desired by other women and make me jealous, you are insanely misinformed. I should just play along. Like lol did you enjoy it? Did you get her number? OR I should immediately cut them off and share a story about how there’s a creep in my building who is always trying to talk to me in the gym, in the elevator.

Or just make up some story in the coffee shop. Give them exsctly wtf they be Trynna give you. Show them you will not be played. No just kidding it’s more powerful to give looks that can KILL. 🔪 don’t even waste my breath. Just look at them in distaste.

Men speak to vulnerability. Be real and be raw with your emotions, my love. You’re doing amazing and I’m so proud of you. The little me would be in awe of how successful and pretty and confident I am now.