#then i just get stuck manic cry laughing at myself

[theythemmer]

having bpd is so funny like what do you mean i deactivated my twitter bc my art didn’t get 20 likes GROW UP

[yusalterego]

Everything

pairing: jeong yunho x fem!reader

genre: angst

word count: 1053

warnings: infedelity, heavy angst, slight violence

enjoy ;)

———

echo.

his voice echoes inside my mind.

the words jump from one side of my head to the other, relentlessly, creating a sequence that seems never ending.

i stare at him, expression cold, focus lost.

i think there's tears coming out of my eyes, but the emptiness inside my body is the only thing i can feel right now.

my throat is dry, my skin feels like it has just been stung by a million needles.

"i slept with her"

my eyelids close, and they open again.

"i slept with her"

my heart beats loudly against my ribcage, giving its own timing to the words still echoing, stuck in a never ending loop.

"i slept with her"

the sudden image of him over a faceless someone, someone that is not me, crosses my mind, snapping me out of my daze. i finally feel the wetness on my cheeks. my eyes are too blurry to see his face properly, my nails digging into my palms are making dents on the skin.

"please..say something" he whispers. his voice sounds broken, and for a moment i wonder how he has the audacity to sound like he's the one hurting, when i feel like my heart has been just brutally torn out of my chest, thrown to the ground and stomped on by the man i've given my life to.

my whole life.

i shake my head, eyes going to the ground, not even able to look at the outline of his blurry form. my hands come up to my eyelids, drying the tears with my palms as a small kid would do.

i look so small in his eyes right now.

smaller than i've ever looked.

i've shrinked into myself, limbs locking in a defensive way, as if i'm scared of him.

he feels like crying.

"please.." he tries again, one leg moving to make a step towards me, but i stumble back immediately, wanting to put as much distance as possible between us.

between me and him.

there's no us anymore.

"this is.." i dry more tears from my eyes, hand rubbing furiously. i let out an incredolous laugh, feeling like i might go manic any moment.

"we are done" i say, eyes looking anywhere but at him.

he mutters a small desperate no, voice broken from the sobs coming up his throat, as he tries to take a few steps forward again.

he reaches my smaller body, hands instinctively going to my face and rising it up, but i don't give him a second more to touch me, my palm raising on its own accord and coming in contact with his cheek.

he almost stumbles back, skin stinging from the impact, hands letting go of my face to go to his red cheek.

"don't touch me" i bite out, not feeling an ounce of remorse for what i've just done.

he appears distraught, eyes wide and glossy as he looks at me.

his frail butterly, the love of his life, the woman he wants to marry.

he sees the resolution in my eyes, and realizes there's no way to rewind this and make it better. there's no trying again.

i don't insult him, i don't scream. i don't fight with him.

he lost me. he lost the fight i was willing to put up for him. he lost the trust i had given him.

he lost his everything, only because he was searching for something different. for something more.

and he now realizes there's nothing more than what i am. nothing more than the way i smiled at him. nothing more than the way my eyes looked when the sun was setting. nothing more than the sounds i made as we made love to eachother.

there is nothing more than me.

he realizes this as he looks at me turning around, not saying anything to him, not even sparing him one last glance.

i turn around and walk slow steps to the door.

time seems to have stopped for him. he wants to run, get ahold of my arm and hold me close. tell me we can be everything one more time, tell me we can try, tell me he won't hurt me anymore ever again.

he doesn't. his legs are locked in place, mind going haywire as silence fills the room.

i don't slam the door when i make my way out, i don't sob out desperately. silence is the only thing that follows me, filling the space where i was once standing.

it seems like i never was there to begin with.

yunho feels his legs give out, knees hitting the ground with a painful impact, but he doesn't perceive it.

he only feels his lungs constricted inside his chest, sobs forcing their way out, throat burning from exertion.

he cries for hours there, on the pavement of our once shared living room.

when he finally manages to calm down, he picks up his phone, and scrambles to search for my contact, feeling panic and realization suddenly hitting him again.

"hi, you've reached y/n. thanks for calling. i can't answer your call at the moment, however if you leave your name, number and message, i'll get back to you as soon I can"

he feels his jaw clench, disappointment filling his heart. he stares at the phone before clicking on my contact again.

"hi, you've reached y/n. thanks for calling. i can't answer your call at the moment, however if you leave your name, number and message-" he cuts the line before it gets too painful.

he tries again anyways.

"hi, you've reached y/n. thanks for calling. i can't answer your call at the moment-"

and again.

"hi, you've reached y/n. thanks for calling-"

he throws the phone to the wall, an animalistic sound escaping his mouth as he uses all his strength.

a crack resounds in the air, a visible dent formed on the wall, phone lying dead on the ground.

he stares at it.

tears don't come this time.

they never do again.

it's all his fault.

his trembling hands would be no use to fix his broken heart. there's no glue strong enough to put it back into place the way it was.

no time machine to bring back the time in which he once had everything.

[outpost51]

😭

🌳

for the snippet asks fuck me up man

Snippet Asks

🫡 with gusto! let's hurt ourselves with helix bc the prologue really popped off actually

😭 share a snippet that will break our hearts

None of the sticky-outie bits on a turian were attached to the skeleton, and even if they were, all of his sure as hell weren’t anymore. In a fight with just biotics, the trained spec-ops bastard would have won. She hadn’t been taught by anything more substantial than a few shoddy extranet videos she watched in secret. Her amp was barely functional, much less combat-ready.

Maybe the Alliance was scared of the rabid animal too.

She caught sight of her reflection in a dark store window, hunched over and heaving, mouth and hands dripping blue as the mutilated remains of what was once a person only in physical form twitched and gurgled at her feet. Maybe they were right to be.

“Jesus Christ, Janey,” came a wheezy laugh behind her. “My pops woulda loved your ass on Shanxi.” Jerry had already struggled himself free by the time Jane made it to his side; she had to catch him as he stumbled away from the wall.

She hacked up a wad of blue blood and phlegm over her opposite shoulder. “That one just looked like a regular blade,” she remarked. The manic wobble in her voice betrayed her confidence. “Just gotta get you gelled up, you’ll be alright.” The further they got, however, Jerry’s weight kept increasing as he leaned on her more for support, and with how much she’d used her biotics and moved around in general without eating, she didn’t think she could make it all the way back to her brother.

“Janey, I gotta… gotta sit down,” Jerry rasped. He gave her no choice in the matter, sliding off her shoulder to drop heavily onto a bench. “Just go on ahead, I’ll read a magazine or something.”

She shook her head. “Nobody left behind, Smith.”

“Don’t you go backtracking on me now, Miss N5.” His weak smile was interrupted by a coughing fit. They both ignored how the bloody saliva didn’t even make it halfway down his chin before it congealed. “That Icarus-Texas shit hurts like a bitch.”

Because it’s thickening your blood in your veins, her brain helpfully replied. She closed her mouth tighter so the echo wouldn’t make it out. “I’ll get Cohen, steal one of those electric carts—”

“You know that’s not gonna do anything, Janey.”

She did. It didn’t mean she didn’t want to be ignorant of the fact. To let herself be foolishly optimistic. “We’ll come back for you.”

“You better,” he chuffed. “Don’t let ‘em put me in those stuffy-ass blues.”

Jane pretended to clean the blood from her face with her sleeve and coughed to hide her sniffle. Alliance Marines didn’t cry. N5s didn’t cry. The leader of the Tenth Street Reds didn’t cry. But she’d be the only witness left alive, right? Jane Shepard could cry. Just a little. She’d earned it. She slumped onto the bench next to him and leaned over until she could rest her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

“For what?” He sounded tired.

She shrugged. “Everything. Being a dick. Snubbing all of you. Cutting myself off.” A bitter laugh built under her breath. “You know I really thought about going to that stupid dance?”

The weight of Jerry’s cheek settled on top of her head. His scruff tugged at her roots with his smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she snorted. When he dropped his Firestorm in her lap, she didn’t push it away. “I couldn’t find a dress that made my arms look pretty. Didn’t wanna make you the talk of the town for the wrong reason.”

“Shit, Jane, you’d be pretty in a trash bag.” Jerry nudged her with his shoulder and nearly slipped off the bench. “I’d a’ still tapped it.”

Jane couldn’t stop the ugly, wet sputter of laughter, but the gentle motion of Jerry’s growing smile could. Had the circumstances been different, she might have called him a pig. It didn’t feel right. Instead, she sat up and held his face steady to kiss him. Just once. Quick, chaste, one last attempt to wrap up his affairs so he wouldn’t be stuck here forever. His cheeks were clammy under her palms. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“Give ‘em hell, Janey.”

He was gone before she could fully ease him onto the bench. She was gone before his body could cool further than she could pretend he was just resting while she went to get help.

🌳 share a snippet featuring nature of any kind

They had made it half the short trek to the attached resort when a rush of cold smacked the back of John’s head and sent him sprawling. The bright, breathless laugh gave away the culprit before he even got up to look, but when it turned into a sputter, he panicked, worried that would be it, that they had moved too fast —

Jane launched a retaliatory snowball at Jerry, causing him to miss his next throw and hit Ahmed square in the chest. Ahmed froze. In the alpine forest behind them, a tree branch cracked under the weight of perpetual winter. The entire group whirled on it out of Alliance-honed instincts, then, upon realizing the source, laughed it off and turned back to Ahmed just as he crumpled into the red snow at his feet.

Somewhere in the distance, John heard a muffled shout about snipers. Hands jostled his shoulders, shoved at him, urged him to move. He was vaguely aware he’d told Ahmed to get moving, get to cover, but Ahmed remained frozen, eyes dulling slowly as the life leeched out of him into the steaming slush. He didn’t reach for his backpack, so John grabbed it for him. He could run faster unencumbered. Something solid — a pistol, still warm from its last shot — was pressed into his hands, his finger manipulated over the trigger. Frozen vengeance, blood-red and hungry for more, rose up from the ground and rushed past to crash over another poor soul. Heat splashed onto his face, stinging like bacon grease in the cold.

“Move your ass, John!” Jane barked, a knife still buried in the throat of a flickering ghost —

No. A man. Armored, armed, bearing a tactical cloak and an unknown crest on his pauldron. But Elysium was safe from pirates. It had orbital defense. It had armed guards at the spaceport. They’d only gotten through security with weapons at all because they had prior clearance.

[diary-of-a-vampire]

Dear Diary #2,

7 September 2023

Lately it feels like that again some days I wake up; the air smells like that again; my hands tremble like that again; I’m quiet like that again; I think as much as then again; empty like that again; anxious like that again; little to no motivation, just checking off to-do lists; little hope like that again; ‘what is my real purpose?’ like that again.

It’s not as bad as then, not even everyday like then, but I can’t help but to worry about it some times. Afraid I’m stuck this time - even if I’m grateful for where I am.

I want my confidence back from last year. Where almost everyday feels like summer and I have a lot of art ideas. Where I wear outfits I love and know exactly who I am or want to be. Where I have hope for finding true love any day and where I did have moments of panic and chaos - but at least felt happy and more in control. Where I didn’t get so agitated and frustrated as much as lately. Where I felt good about myself and everyone around me. Where I felt like everything would somehow turn out alright for me. Where I didn’t feel such a distance between me and others. Where I felt like the things I made got liked by people who were actually interested - instead of people who follow me online as friends or classmates (as grateful as I am they are in my life).

If you know me, you know I usually don’t like big changes.

Dear diary, last week I hid myself in my room from windows, paranoid because I knew nothing was wrong, nobody knows about this - but it felt like something terrible might’ve happened. I locked myself up in my closet. I couldn’t stop crying because I had too little sleep and too much stress that week. I am tired of this, and I can’t let anyone close to this part of me - because I feel like I am going insane, and I don’t want people to see me that way. Sometimes I’m scared I might do it all for attention; even if no one has been there to witness.

Last year, I looked outside of my window. It was winter - but my feelings felt like comforting, amazing summer. This summer, I looked outside too. It felt like cold, sharp winter in my head.

Right now, it switches but never reached either amazing summer or painful winter - even if winter outside of my head is one of my favourite seasons, and I look forward to autumn too. Wearing my favourite clothes and sweaters again; and lots of black.

I want to go back to feeling summer in my head. And stay that way forever. Because now everyone and everything around me is summer - and I do have bouts where I feel happy and enjoy it, but I feel a little bit like winter.

I want to enjoy life even more and everyday like last summer, before I grow old - and only then might finally be healed.

I’m scared of that. Of never being able to truly enjoy the things I love so dearly, until I’m old and wasted my time.

Moments of walking around wondering who I am, and where I talk to myself, where everything is connected or it feels like people are out to get me, where I get suspicious of people when they react or act differently than what I hoped for, where I don’t feel safe and where I go from manically laughing to sliding from the wall onto the floor crying only to stare in space later. Repeating words, walking circles and confidence and insecurity at once. I feel like I’m either split into two or three me’s - and I make art that’s already long overdue at moments like those.

I don’t know why I push people away lately, or why I stay in bed again, longer than last summer. I know everything around me is right and bright, but sometimes I am a bit blue for no reason.

I’ve had my months of depression, I’m feeling normal again. But I want to feel good like last summer again. I don’t want to feel so defeating or hopeless like Charlotte, I want to feel confident and adult and excited again, like Charlie.

But right now, I’m rather in-between them.

It might just all be because going to art school was new and exciting then, and now I’m used to it - even if I enjoy and love it and there’s no better place for me than there.

Or it is because I’ve been under a lot of stress from family - even if that issue ended six months ago.

Because I don’t really allow myself to share all my art to people I know.

Because I wanted to grow like an artist even more by now.

Because I think in black and white sometimes. Because I should have more different hobbies? Because I should think less?

Because my mood keeps swinging?

Because I was so sure of being a lesbian; and now pushed it away so far - that I’m not even proud anymore. Trying to still like men. Because people meant well and took their words back, but ‘you only think you like girls because you have trauma’ hurt too much.

Because I never felt at home in my body, because I rather look androgynous and I should cut my hair - will it be alright again when I cut my hair? Will I be able to show people who I really am again? I don’t want them to use my old name… yet, too scared for rejection or the way it might be purposeless - or ‘just a phase’ - after all somehow. I don’t know.

Because I don’t really know who I am again - standing in-between the gap of who I wanted to be and who I used to be?

Because somehow, I feel unlovable right now; and not even able to love someone back.

Because I secretly feel lacking at so many things - even if everybody does but never shows and wears a different version of their face in a pretty mask.

Dear diary, sometimes I’m a body in which every cell is a thought or speculation - a ‘want to go back to who I was last summer’;

Dear diary, am I even human?

I miss the confident me. I’m a bit lost. And I don’t want to be lost when I know how confident and happy and fulfilled I can be.

Instead of whatever this is…

Maybe I should just try to take control over my own life, instead of hope it will all magically fix itself and wait for something I don’t even know what I’m patiently waiting for.

[shadeedee]

Funny Aladdin fic *Adult content*

Jafar snuck into Jasmine’s room, smiling evilly. He couldn’t contain himself anymore. He was in love with her. But she wasn’t in the room. He raised an eyebrow, confused. As he walked towards her chambers he bumped into her dresser, and something fell on the floor. He picked it up and looked at it. It was a light purple object, with a button in the middle. Curious, he pressed it and it began to vibrate. He put it against his hand and chuckled as it tickled his palm. Then he had a sneaky idea. First he looked around to make sure nobody was watching, and he sat on the bed, placing the object between him underneath his robes. It felt incredible. He closed his eyes, smiling. He pressed the button again and the vibration went higher. The pleasure intensified. “Ooooooh,” Oh my,” he said, bouncing the object between him. Jafar placed his snake staff against the wall and focused on this wonderful new object in his hands. After a while holding it between him, he couldn’t contain himself. He turned out the lights in the room and got under the blankets of Jasmine’s bed. It felt soft and like a cloud. Jafar sighed with pleasure. It would get even better once he forced her to marry him! He gazed at the object, smiling. “It glows in the dark!” he said, excitedly. He placed it between him again. Laughing, he began moving up and down, rubbing against it as he did. “Mmmmm. Oh dear me. Ooh oh,” he said, breathing heavily. He was incredibly close to climax, now. He rubbed against the vibrating object, faster and faster. Then it happened. It was like he took off at full speed on his own magic carpet ride. He laughed manically and moaned loudly with pleasure. His hands were shaking as he squeezed the object against him. The middle of his robes were wet. He felt so relaxed that he ended up falling asleep in Jasmine’s bed. Later, Jasmine burst open the door, horrified. “Jafar! Get out of here! Oh you evil man! How dare you!” she cried. Jafar opened his eyes, quickly rolling over to face her. Then Rajah pulled back the covers with his teeth despite Jafar trying to pull it back up and the object fell out. Jasmine felt sick and was horrified. “Oh my god! You are disgusting! That’s mine! You are not to touch it! Oh how dare you!” she shouted, grabbing it and placing it in the drawer. She began attacking the sorcerer and hitting him. Rajah began biting at his cape. Jafar played innocent, pretending to be alarmed. “Oh princess please! I’m so sorry! I just couldn’t contain myself! I’m so sorry please don’t hit me anymore! Please!” he begged, pretending to cry. Rajah growled in anger. Jasmine huffed, and stormed out of the room. Jafar laughed, manically. “Once i marry her she’ll be stuck in that bed next to me,” he said.

[piscesfics]

“ PRIDE ” 

Lip finds out that you’ve been trying to apply for college scholarships on his behalf and without his knowledge (angst/fluff)

pairing ➵ boyfriend!lipgallagher x reader

 words ➵ 1.4k+ (short + sweet)

 warnings ➵ 18+ a/n ➵ 18+, usual shameless themes made light, jokes of killing future partners, implied sex (no smut), 

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Lip's voice blared from the hallway, drowning out his charging footsteps as he entered his small, shared bedroom.

"What's wrong?" you asked from your seat on his bed.

"Don't you fucking give me that," Lip rolled his eyes, "Why the fuck do you have to always be in my business y/n?"

You sat up to face Lip, noticing the paper scrunched between his white-knuckled fist. The college application paperwork you found for Lip must of been sent to his home address and your heart dropped.

"Lip, I was just trying to-" You admitted, getting down from his bunk and down to his level and explain how you thought he could make it.

"Help? I've gotten myself this far on my own without Frank, without Monica, I don't need your fucking help," Lip interrupted.

"I know you have, I know all of it Lip. I know you're been responsible for your brothers and sisters, and so loyal to your family that I knew you wouldn't of put yourself and your future first. Just this one time you can Lip, you can do really well in college-"

"So what? So I have to be the fucking golden goose?" Lip mocked, "We can hardly afford rent, how the fuck did you think I could afford to waste time at college? We need money y/n."

"You can get out of here! You can get a degree and a good paying, real job! You don't have the be the sole provider. You might not be able to see it for yourself but you have so much potential Lip, you can break the curse, just please don't waste it here".

"You're fucking delusional y/n, it's so easy for you to say. You have good parents, but who's going to take care of Liam now that Fiona's in jail? Ian supposed to babysit during his manic episodes? Carl's going to pay for electricity from juvie? Debbie's just a kid." Lip questioned rhetorically and raised his voice.

"I can-"

"Oh fuck off," He laughed enraged, "Don't give me that shit. You want to tell me not to waste my potential here but you want to piss yours away? For what? For Me?" Lip threw his hands behind his head and exhaled with frustration. The anger coursing through him hadn't yet dissipated.

Your eyes began to sting, you didn't want to cry but you just wished he could see himself how everyone else did. His siblings admired Lip as the closest thing they had to a father figure and you could understand the pressure that followed, but they wanted him to do well too.

They understood sacrifice more than anyone. Banding together as a unit since Fiona was only 9 years old, the Gallaghers saw the opportunities and life she gave up to raise her siblings and there are still no guarantees on how they would turn out.

It was so hard on everyone to see Fiona fall, you couldn't take the thought of anything close happening to Lip. Not just for everyone's sake, but also his survival. His subconscious to self-sabotage broke your heart after you'd seen him take shit from Karen more times than he deserved.

Getting out of the south-side just while he studied could be just what Lip needed to catch a break from dysfunctional life and never ending pain.

"I'm not a fucking broken thing for you to fix y/n," Lip spat, his blue eyes poisoned with temper, "You need to fuck off."

"Fuck you Lip, I love you just listen to me-" you began to reason.

"Fuck me?" He spoke under his breathe trying his hardest not to blow up any further. As Lip ran a hand through his hair in frustration, you could notice the protruding veins that stuck out of his henley, peppered with worn out holes.

“Yes fuck you! How many of the kids that we hate have you set up for college but you won’t do the same for yourself, the one who actually deserves it?”

“They don’t have a fucking functioning brain cell but they have money. If you haven’t noticed the world is set up for them to win, I can’t get that far with nothing. How would I afford fucking tuition?”

"Your intelligence is a fucking gift okay, more than you realise. You're lucky to have it and you set the curve so don’t give me that. Lip you can get places with a scholarship, you don’t have to believe me," You held his arms, "If that means I take your place here for the mean-time I’d jump at the chance. It's what you do for people you love, you've done it for your family forever. Let me just lessen the load."

"I can't leave them like our parents left us," Lip whispered in anger. His deepest fear became realised. Whatever he did, he didn’t want to turn out into the thing that burdened his siblings for their whole life like his parents had. Just speaking the words was too much to bare, he didn’t even want to risk it becoming manifested somehow.

He was now leaning his forehead down against yours. He was so tired of barely surviving. So tired of the cycle he felt stuck in, no matter how hard him and his siblings tried to better their lives. Their reality became impossible to escape and began to feel like any way out was only a dream.

"You aren't leaving Lip. You can come home and visit on weekends, for movie nights and birthdays. Everyone would love to see you do this, just for you and if you do this now you can set yourself up for forever.”

You tried to draw Lip’s eyes back to your own. Those sea blue eyes were your safety house, and much like yours to Lip. Sometimes words weren’t as powerful as the look of love that you’d shared within many hard moments you’d found yourself in, like whenever Monica came back or seeing your almost shared family fall.

“Who knows, it might inspire them to do the same and make it out after only seeing Frank fail them so many times, you've given us all so much hope since just achieving your diploma." You gently pleaded, not giving up so easily.

You brushed Lip’s jaw and held the back of his neck, giving him comfort and support the way only you knew he liked best. Placing soft and gentle kisses over old scars from fights within his hair line and forehead.

"Do you really think I can do this?" Lip muttered, he'd never been one to question himself so you both knew he was seriously considering this.

“Even college professors think you’re a genius easily Lip. You don’t have to just take it from me, but if it helps I’ve always known you could do it.”

Lip held your hands in his. A gentle gesture as if to say thank you without needing to mouth the words. He’d never felt so loved. Your approval was all he needed now, and growing to trust and believe in himself was a journey he’d only began since knowing and loving you.

“You know what else,” you smiled up at your boyfriend after Lip kissed you passionately, “You’d only have to share your room with one other person at college.”

“Oh is that right?” Lip smirked.

“Mhm,” you agreed, “Perhaps more time alone for me with a hot college boy.”

“No more little brothers and Debbie’s daycare kids around all the time huh? Not that you’re quiet now, but we can really make some noise whenever we wanted there hey?”

Lip pulled you closer to him and peppered you with more kisses. You tried not to laugh and give into his dirty mind too early as you finally had some power in the argument.

“Oh so now I have your attention Gallagher,” you teased him smartly, “I should have started with this point all along.”

“You know me so well,” Lip whispered into a kiss.

“Oh I definitely do. If I ever catch you with a little, trashy, blonde sorority chick I will have cut your dick off though,” you joked, landing your hands on his broad chest.

“Lucky for you I’m over those kind of blondes now. But if you run off with some dumb college football jock I’ll kill him on sight, you’re stuck with me forever.” Lip bantered with you.

“I’d like to see you try,” you teased him back and he grabbed your ass playfully.

“What the fuck did I ever do to deserve you.” Lip admitted, looking at you with complete adoration. Taking in every inch of you as he swayed your smaller frame between his arms.

"You're not so bad for a Gallagher" You winked before kissing him lustfully.

"Hey smart-ass, one day you’ll be one too,” Lip breathed, “I’ll make fucking sure of it.”

Your boyfriend couldn’t wait another second, his hands roamed your body lasciviously. Words weren’t enough to show you his adoration and passion for you. He was going to love you harder than ever.

He didn’t even know he could be the type to make love or go to college. It seemed like everything in his life he endured had lead him to this. As corny as it sounded, since loving you Lip had learnt both were possible. Everything you’d tolerated from him in the past hadn’t phased you, you passed every test of Gallagher life with Lip. He wondered what else could become possible in the future with you beside him and he didn’t want to leave it up to chance.

△ shameless masterlist

[nonstop-haikyuu]

Sweat and Tanlines (Hinata S. smut)

Hi! This is my first timing collabing with the HQHQ! This month's theme was public sex/chikan! Here's the masterlist! Enjoy reader sucking Hinata's dick!

Brazil’s heat was something that I honestly did not enjoy. The heat caused my thighs to stick to whatever I was sitting on at the moment and the sweat dripping down my neck and beneath my shirt was overall uncomfortable. However, there were perks to the heat that the country offered. One of the most prominent advantages to the scalding temperatures would be the beautiful state that Hinata Shoyo managed to pull off.

With red curls stuck to his forehead from sweat and his tanlines peeked out beneath the hem of his shorts and my mouth watered at the sight. This man was unfairly gorgeous and I still couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that I was his significant other.

A water was slid into my vision then Aran asked, “Some water for your thirst, hoe?” I glared up at the man and snatched the bottle from his grip, mumbling, “Shut up! I’m only a hoe for him so it doesn’t count.”

“Oh, trust me, I know you have eyes only on him. But seriously, drink some water. It’s hot as hell out here.” he encouraged, before hurrying back on the court. I turned my attention back to Shoyo and took a long drink of water. We were at the end of the third set and Sho’s team was at match point. With a quick attack, Shoyo managed to slam the ball into the far left corner of the court.

I cheered at the sight, clapping as he brushed his hair out of his face with a manic grin. He jogged over and gave me a kiss, sweat dripping down his temples and chest. Shoyo began to stand up straight, only for me to snag the waistband of his shorts.

“Baby?” he asked, confusion sketched across his face. I licked my lips then murmured, “Shoyo, you look fucking amazing.” He laughed quietly and kissed me again, groaning as I tangled my fingers through his curls. We pulled apart, panting, then he breathed, “Wait, wait. What’s gotten into you?”

“Tanlines and sweat,Sho. You look so good playing, god, I want to suck you off so bad. Please, please, can I? Lemme suck you off, want you to come in my mouth.” I pleaded, clamoring into his lap. He glanced over his shoulder at the crowd, still cheering or booing over the win then he hissed, “Sunshine, we’re in public. There’s so many people.”

“I’ll do it in the car! Please, I promise that I’ll do so good.” I pleaded, tugging at the waistband of his shorts. He gripped my wrist then stated, “Alright, let’s go. You want to suck me off that bad then come on, let’s go to the car.”

I grinned at his agreement and I jumped to my feet, tugging him towards our car. I kissed his jaw and he groaned as I sucked love bites into the skin of his throat before he pleaded, “Baby, please, we’re almost to the car, just wait a minute.”

I whined at his insistence with a pout before he gripped my face, squishing my cheeks in a tight grip, growling, “You are so fucking needy. Always need something in that pretty mouth of yours. Move a little faster and I’ll fuck your face to the point you won’t be able to scream.”

My eyes widened at his promise and tugged him faster to the car, eager to get his cock in my mouth. I yanked open the back seat door, thankful that we had laid down the seats this morning so I could take a nap while Shoyo played an early match.

I hurried him inside and tugged at the waistband of his shorts, grinning when I realized that he was already hard. Precome beaded at the head and I moaned, dipping my head to lick at the drops.

He tangled a tight grip in my hair, moaning quietly as I continued to suckle at the tip, eager for more of a taste. I glanced up at Shoyo through hooded eyes, smiling when I realized that his blush reached his chest, then moaned as he pulled at my hair.

“Don’t tease me, baby. I will fuck your face, I swear to God.”he threatened, pulling me off his dick. I whined in protest then dug my fingers into his thighs before pleading, “Want you to fuck my face, show me how bad I was. Please, please, Sho? I promise I’ll be good, I’ll take it like a good girl.” His eyes fluttered shut with my begging and he groaned, “Don’t come crying to me tomorrow when you can hardly speak.”

Licking my lips, I opened my mouth and allowed him to push his cock further into my throat, murmuring, “That’s it, you’re so fucking good for me. Come on, open up just a little bit more. I know you can do it, baby, take my cock.”

My eyes fluttered shut as I sunk further onto his dick, eager to gag around him. He groaned when I reached the base, choking around the girth. Shoyo combed his fingers through my hair then he warned, “I’m going to fuck your mouth now. Tap me on the hip twice if it gets too much.”

I hummed my agreement then he pulled me off until I reached the tip before beginning to fuck my mouth. I gagged around his cock and relaxed as he continued to force me on and off, setting a fast pace. Moaning at the force he used, I forced my eyes open so I could watch as his eyes hooded.

“Always want you with me, god you’re so fucking good to me, so beautiful. Fuck, I love you goddamn much, sunshine.” Shoyo babbled, twisting his fingers in my hair. I squealed at the sudden pinch of my nipple through my bathing suit and he pulled the material down, freeing my tit. He grinned, satisfied that he managed to multitask, and he chirped, “Love your tits, baby, can’t wait till I knock you up and they’re full of milk.”

I moaned with the imagery filling my head and pushed myself further onto his cock, desperate to wreck Shoyo. My thighs pressed together as he continued to fuck my throat, soft choking sounds filling the car. My boyfriend growled, his fingers sliding against the window’s glass with a squeak, then he hissed, “Fuck, can’t believe you were so fucking desperate that you needed to suck me off in our car. Couldn’t wait fifteen minutes for us to get back to the house. Needy, needy little brat.”

I smirked around his cock, pleased that I had managed to tear his calm exterior down to shreds, then he pulled me off, panting, “Shit, baby. You’re so fucking good at sucking my cock. You want me to come in your mouth? Make you take all my come?”

I nodded eagerly and opened my mouth, pleading, “Want it, Sho. I want your come in my mouth!” He laughed at my eagerness and tapped the head of his dick on my lips as he cooed, “Hold still for me, sunshine. Gonna give you what you want.”

With a few quick strokes, he gasped and his hips jumped, the slight salty taste coating my tongue. I wrapped my lips around the head and continued to suckle at the slit, eager for everything that he has to offer.

I swallowed the come that poured down my throat and pulled off, opening my mouth to show that I had nothing left. Shoyo whined at the sight then tugged me into his lap with a kiss. I licked into his mouth with a moan and he broke the kiss, mouthing at my throat.

“Thank you for indulging me, baby.” I murmured, cuddling against his chest. He glanced at me as I attempted to pull away then he cooed, “Where do you think you’re going? I’ve got a cunt to eat.” My eyes widened at the underlying darkness in his voice and he flipped me onto my back as I squealed. Sometimes the risk was worth the reward.

[depressedacadamia]

I’m going to take care of you

Prompt + pairng: apollo + Hyacinthus

A/N: AHHH- i made the fatal mistake of being social and therefore i was so drained that I couldnt post on time! I put this on AO3 and then for a month forgot to put it on tumblr- woops!- but that said, I hope yall enjoy this new greek gay coupleeee <3 from mee!

Read on AO3          WritersMonth 2021         Mlist

“Hyacinthus, darling, what kind of sick joke is this?” Apollo’s alarmed voice rang out.

His lover, draped in the silk bed sheets, could only give a mere shrug of confusion. Apollo had awoken on said particular morning in a more foul mood than usual and up to now, Hyacinthus was utterly clueless as to what ungodly -which is quite ironic- matter had angered his sunshine this time.

“Apollo, do come back to bed,” Hyacinthus yawned. “ What is bothering you so much that you rise at such a miserable hour?”

“What is bothering me is that…”Apollo patted himself down, feeling his face and body. “ I am seemingly mortal.”

The sudden phrase had Hyacinthus shooting upwards so fast that had he moved any faster, the sheets would have completely flown off him- not that Apollo in any way would have minded.

“Sunshine, whatever do you mean? You are a god.”

“Well I’m clearly not anymore!” Apollo yelled, his hands weaving and grabbing at his hair. What was his father up to and more importantly- What did Zeus want this time?

It wasn't uncommon, which Apollo had to admit was a sad thing to have to accept, for his father- the whores of all whores (and don't let Zeus know that Apollo called him that)- to sometimes turn him into a mortal.

In Apollo’s honest opinion, it was often for trivial and unnecessary things that he cared not for- however, thanks to his father, he wouldn't really be given a choice on whether he cared about the subject or not. It was already terrible enough when he was turned into a mortal as a punishment for mocking Aphrodite’s son -Eros, but to add insult to injury, his father had him running around a random mortal whom he had somehow fallen truly, madly and deeply in love with until she had someone turn her into a tree.

Apollo refused to trust Eros ever again. He refused to ever let Eros or Aphrodite near any of his lovers- but it seemed no matter how hard Apollo tried to avoid the winged bastard, Eros always appeared exactly when he didn't need him- so was he really surprised to hear the manic laughing of a winged man? No, no he wasn’t.

It was only a miracle that Eros had just flown over and not appeared in front of him- that would have been catastrophic.

“Apollo?”

His head snapped towards his concerned lover. “Are you okay?”

He paused- what kind of question was that? He was no longer glowy- what was he to do? And slowly his thoughts began descending into chaos- at first it was the same things he thought every time this happened ( which would be a lot more than one would expect- Zeus was petty like that). However, as his thoughts began to spiral, he began to worry whether Hyacinthus would leave him once he realised that Apollo was truly no longer his godly self.

Afterall, why would Hyacinthus - a healthy, fit and handsome man- want to be stuck with a boring mortal who must go on a quest due to his petty father?

He slumped onto the bed, groaning as he realised he could feel the pain from his face slamming directly onto a pillow.

“Sunshine?”

“What?” Apollo groaned miserably. He felt Hyacinthus place his warm hand on his back, rubbing it in smooth circles, a gesture Apollo knew was what Hyacinthus would do when he tried to comfort him; apparently, according to his lover, Apollo was allegedly very ‘high maintenance’.

“You said that you were no longer a god before suddenly collapsing onto the bed,” he explained. “ Are you okay?”

“Why do you care?”

“Am I not allowed to care for my boyfriend?”

“Not for long. Now that I’m mortal, again, I’ll probably die super soon of something pathetic- just like me.”

Hyacinthus felt relatively guilty. He didn’t mean to deceive Apollo- not that he actually was. It was simply the fact that he realised that he for some reason or another felt extremely different than how he normally would. His body felt stronger, his skin fresher, his eyesight perfect and so on.

At first he thought it was simply the effect of being truly, madly and deeply in love but when Apollo had awoken and confided in him that he too was now mortal, Hyacinthus put it together.

Apollo was mortal and now he was a god.

“I need to figure out the key to this thing. Zeus does this all the time, it really isn't fair,” Apollo grumbled sadly into the pillow and when he lifted his head Hyacinthus could see tears forming and rolling down his lover’s face.

“Mortals cry, Hyacinthus! They cry! Why do your faces produce these wet salty forms of water when you’re experiencing anything other than happiness or pleasure, I truly do not know and in all honesty, I think it to be completely stupid on an entirely new level!”

“So you’re asking me why do humans cry when we’re sad?” Hyacinthus slowly reiterated.

“Yes!” Apollo let out a sob.

“I don’t know but there must be a reason as to why you’re sad.”

“Because!”

Hyacinthus paused. “ Because…? Because of what, Sunshine?”

“ Because- I’m terribly pathetic now! Don't you see, I’m just like everyone else. There's no reason for you to even stay not a second longer jammed up in this luxurious bed with an absolute maggot such as myself! And you have no reason to call me sunshine anymore because I’m a pathetic weak mortal and not the glorious Sun god. I’ll probably starve to death or get food poisoning. Or maybe, i’ll be kidnapped and murdered.” Apollo paused his teary rant to take a deep inhale. “At this point, that option would be ideal.”

And as he refused to meet the eye of his concerned lover, Apollo felt the stupid, stupid tears continue their route down his cheeks, pooling at the bottom of his chin before momentiarily staying still and then falling direclty onto the silk pillow with a soft ‘plop!’

He felt firm hands confidently but gently cradle his face, squishing his cheeks slightly and forcing his face upwards as if to look him in the eye.

“I’m going to take care of you,” Hyacinthus smiled.

“It’s all rotten work anyway,” Apollo sniffled.

“Not to me.” Hyacinthus grabbed a tissue and began dabbing away at Apollo’s tears before they dried up his skin. “Not if it’s you.”

And with the way Hyacinthus took care of him, Apollo considered the potential option that maybe being a mortal wouldn't be as bad as he thought it would be.

[askdracomalfoyofficial]

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮

Note: The paragraphs that are in italic are the thoughts he is thinking —

TW: Mild thoughts of killing her. Swearing. Possession. Nothing to serious, but thought I would put this before-hand. Enjoy!

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It all started after I had called you a Mudblood. You see, my father taught me all about blood-status, pure-bloods being the highest form of witch or wizard. Magic comes easy to us, our veins are filled with it. We have control over it. Then theres you, someone who has Muggle parents, making you just that. How you had a outburst of magic is something I'm currently questioning. I can certainly see you being someone who's Drabble around with it, study it in your books.

But my father warned me about people like you. Warned me that your blood is dirty, and anyone whom surrounds themselves around you, or even do much as become friends with you is a blood-traitor.

Anyone under us, we don't care for.

Yet, there was something about you that had always piqued my interest somehow, someway or another. I can't tell you what it is, Granger. But, Merlin… I don't know how you are our Brightest Witch of Her Age became such a thing for a Muggle-born. You and your swatty ways, always raising your bloody hand in class every two, three seconds. Basically… dissecting the answers or things the Professors would teach us. God, how I wished I could cut your hands off, or cast a silencing charm on you so your mouth stops moving, you annoying wrench.

The witch with unruly messy mop on her head. Tame your fucking mane, Granger. Get some tips from Pansy for all I care, maybe then… you'd learn something. But, you're not someone who cares about appearances are you? You're the first girl I know to not. Doesn't surprise me.

He breathes out a sigh.

I bloody fucking hate you. You have no idea. I want to wrap my hands around your throat, and watch the life leave your eyes but not as much as I want to run my fingers through your hair, grab a fistful and yank your head back just to crash my lips onto yours. To make you feel the hate I have for you, to make your lips swollen. To have my tongue vigorously dance with yours, a duel to win. I want to press my lips to your neck, find your pulse and feel it beat against my lips then suck your breath from you. Suffocate in your aroma, to smell your hair and taste the salt of your skin against my tongue.

“For instance… I smell,” she leans her face more over the steam. “Freshly mown grass, and new parchment, and–“ Her words trailed off as she started to realize who it was.

Thinking about it is repulsive, thinking about you, specifically is repulsive. I’m thinking about all this, while you're smelling your Amortentia, and I bet what you're smelling is that daft bimbo, Weaselby.

Ah, the lovely Amortentia. The most powerful love potion that there is. It has a smell for each and every individual according to what attracts them.

Draco adjusts his stance, hands finding a home in the pocket of his trousers. Eyes on her, more so the back of her head, watching while she smells the steam that swirls endlessly up towards her face, and the way her hair grows with the humidity. In a way, it matches the way his had been tousled at his fringe. It looks as if someone had ran their fingers through his own hair and ruffled it up. Hers just looks like straight bed head, yet not taken care of.

His brow raised, looking through his lashes at her.

Weaselby smells like mown grass, well that's quite bloody disgusting. And, you're telling me that's what attracts you?

A scoff slipped out from somewhere in the room, and for a moment he panicked because he knew it came from him the moment Blaise lifted his eyes to look at him with a brow of his own raised. But, Draco's eyes were on the back of her head, which in that moment he regretted because she turned around and automatically met his. Jaw muscles worked as it snapped shut, clenching his teeth together.

Don't look at me like that. Who do you think you are?

Professor Slughorn dismissed the class, he hurried to get his things situated and left the room without so much as a second glance back at his fellow classmates; including her. But he could feel the way that her eyes bored into his back, setting his skin ablaze.

Eventually, Blaise caught up to him. “What was all that back there, mate?”

“What? What do you mean was all that?” He stopped in his tracks, and lifted his eyes to meet Blaise’s but grew uncomfortable and looked away, ah, the stone wall was helping particularly well in this moment.

“Why did you act that way after Granger smelled her Amortenia?”

Merlin! He wasn't going to let this up. Fucking always so observant.

“Because what she smelled was ridiculous.”

“No, what is it really? You can't possibly think I'm that stupid, Draco.” He persisted.

Draco’s eyes gravitated back to him. Jaw tight. “What would you like me to say, Blaise? Is there a specific thing you're expecting me to answer with? Because whatever you're trying to get out of me, isn't there. So, I suggest that you stop while you're ahead.” Was what he left the conversation with.

Blaise, if I told you anything, you'd think that I’ve gone bloody mental, shit, I'm beginning to wonder myself if I did.

All through the years I’ve been watching Hermione Granger, bullying her and her friends because I get amusement out of the looks on their faces. How I know that I piss them off, and I'm good at it. There was once a part of me who loved to watch her cry, to bathe in those tears that fell down her cheeks, those very cheeks I want to grab in my hand and attack her jaw with my lips.

Draco shook his head as if he were trying to dismiss the thoughts, dismiss the way he was feeling and thinking as they weren't quite appropriate.

This year was so utterly fucked. I just want it to be over.

He made his way through the corridors, retreating from Blaise and dipping around the corner. He needed some down time, perhaps the library would do some good. Settle down with a book, in a far corner sounded lovely.

An hour gone by, and he'd been so enveloped in multiple books because he couldn't just decide on one and he needed to distract his mind from the interaction with Blaise, and Hermione interfering his thoughts.

But low and behold, she came into the library. Of course! The know-it-all loved to read just as much as he did.

Oh, you got to be fucking kidding me.

Draco rolled his eyes, clenched his jaw tight and pretended to read but every so often his gaze would lift to where she was. She was huffing loudly, even two exasperated sighs left her mouth. His teeth gritted and the muscle in his jaw worked.

After a couple of moments, perhaps five minutes gone by of her continuing with her loud outbursts of breathing, huffs and sighs he had enough of it all. Draco slammed the book shut, picking up the others and went to return them to their slots. When he was done, he approached her. Shouldering the frame of one of the bookshelves.

“Do you need to be so loud? This is a library for a reason.” His voice was cold, like a cool breeze brushing through the space between them. By the looks of it, he could tell that when he spoke that he had startled her.

She turned around mid-way while pulling out a book. Her chocolate-colored eyes lifted to meet his with a glare. Her head tilted to the side, and a retort was just waiting to leave her mouth. Draco had noticed this when he seen her lips twitch.

“Do you wish for me to apologize to you? Because,” she scoffed, crossing her arms with the book over her chest and under one arm. “You won't be getting it.”

“Who said anything about you apologizing?” His brow raised. “It's the fact that you are in a library, being loud with just your breath.”

Hermione looked around them. “Seems to me like we're the only ones in here, Malfoy. So —” she put the book back and moved down the shelf more, opposite of where he was standing. “I don't really see a problem here, you're just always bothered unless it's you doing something someone doesn't like.” She retorted, rather calmly.

How are you always able to handle your composure when around me. Yes — keep going down the aisle, pretty soon you'll be stuck in that corner.

Draco’s jaw snapped, his throat clicked. He hadn't really observed the room when he came in, but she was right about it being empty and the only ones in there being them. What a situation to be in.

“And you breathing loudly happens to be something that I don't like. I wouldn't be standing here right now if otherwise.” A hand slipped from across his chest, as his index finger lifted from the light fist he held, raising it like he were thinking before taking a step closer, slowly. “I am always bothered by you. Your presence is insufferable. Anywhere I go, I always have to see your face, I'm repulsed by it.”

It's true, I am always bothered by you. You are insufferable, but I am sure I could put you into your place; if you'd let me. I may be repulsed by your face, but I can't help but also like looking at it, at those lips —

She laughed manically, like what he said was the most hilarious thing she'd ever heard, or perhaps she had seen right through him. Hermione stopped what she was doing with the books, what book was she trying to find anyways? Her body shifted, feet angled towards him and arms remained crossed over her chest.

“You're the only one who thinks these things, and quite frankly they do not bother me.”

Man, you are bloody stubborn — not as much as I am.

He stepped closer, a hand coming up to grip onto the edge of the shelf. His own height towering over her own, blocking out the library light from her face. They were now sharing each other's exhaled breathes, and he knew she could feel the way his ghosted along her face. She didn't at all seem bothered by his presence now crowding her, backed into the corner of a bookshelf. He was looming over her.

“They don't bother you?” He asked and his tone dripped sarcasm. She shifted uncomfortably. “Do tell me, what does bother you then?”

“Why would that be something you're curious about? Since when did you care about what bothers me or not?”

Draco smirks, his head turning to the side while his eyes fell to the door of the library. Tongue grazing the bottom of his upper teeth. “You're right,” he turned his head back, glaring down through his lashes. “Why would I care? I don't care for someone of the liking of you.”

With that — he leaned down towards her more, for a moment he looked as though he were going to kiss her. But it was just to give a look of intimidation before his weight pressed into the hand that gripped the shelf to push himself off. Hands finding their way back into his trouser pockets.

I fucking hate you. I fucking hate you so much and you already know that don't you, Granger? Because I make it known, it's all over my face whenever you look at me, whenever we run into each-other. I hate you, yet I want to fucking kiss you, I want to do these things to do you that I, when I was younger couldn't see myself doing. Let alone have never done with a witch before besides Pansy, she always knew how to keep my best interests in mind.

I want to have my hands in your hair, tangled in my fingers and watch as your curled locks fall through. I want my hand around your throat possessively, let my thumb graze along your jaw and down the front of your throat like I'm thirsty for you and just want a little taste.

I want to have your clothes pooled at your feet while my eyes roam your naked canvas, I want to take in every scar, beauty mark, freckle. I want to do it all.

I want to trace the pads of my fingers down your spine, to your tailbone and trail them around to your hips.

I want to do so much to you — I want to possess you.

But then I'm reminded just by looking at you that you're a Muggle witch, and I fucking hate you, you're repulsive and insufferable. A know-it-all swat, who just can't keep her fucking mouth shut.

I'm conflicted, my stomach is in knots and this'll be the one thing that takes me to my very grave.

[footballfanfictions]

The thrill of the chase - Chapter Three

Pairings: Mason Mount/OC, Ben Chilwell/OC

Authors Note: Apologies again for how long this has taken to write, life has been absolutely manic the last couple of weeks. As always, I hope you enjoy this and feedback is gratefully received.

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 He’s pinning me down against the bed, leaning over me. His hands are everywhere, touching and caressing me wherever he can reach and his mouth is on my neck, sucking a patch of skin to mark me.

My hands are in his hair and I’m tugging at it to get him to look at me, so that I can connect our mouths again, but when I pull his face to mine, it isn’t Ben anymore. It’s Rory.

I wake up from the fantasy in a cold sweat, my bed sheet stuck to my slick back and my pyjama top crumpled. I put my head into my hands and sob quietly. I’m not crying because I’ve had some sex dream about a footballer that snogged me. I’m crying because once again, I*’m thinking about my ex boyfriend and it’s becoming obsessive.

I sit up in bed and find myself checking his social media. His facebook has him check in to some fancy hotel in the Cotswolds with his girlfriend. They had met not long after we broke up. In fact, the gap between us breaking up and them supposedly meeting was so slim that it made me wonder if he had been talking to her before we called it quits. I had no proof of that of course, but that didn’t make me feel any better about any of it. I imagined the two of them sharing a bed together in their hotel room, enjoying the comfort of sleeping next to someone. It had been so long that I barely remembered what that felt like. 

I almost texted Bri, she would have been happy to talk even if I woke her, but I wasn’t quite ready to share what I had been thinking about recently. It would be hypocritical of Bri to judge me for thinking about Rory when all she went on about at the moment was making her ex jealous. That made me think of Billy and how much he liked her. I had this awful feeling that if he did ask Bri out that she would use it as an opportunity and not give him a fair chance. Billy did not deserve to be used like that. 

I ran my fingers through my damp hair and collected it into a ponytail, tying it with the band that I had kept around my wrist since letting my hair down before bed. I had this weird habit that whenever I was feeling stressed, needed to really concentrate on something or make a decision, I would always tie my hair up. Rory had always thought it was nuts. I had noticed from their instagram pictures that his girlfriend never really wore her hair up. I always called her that, his girlfriend because giving her a name would make her feel real, and maybe there was a part of me that didn’t want her to be real and still clung onto the idea that we were just on a break, exploring our careers and travelling only to come back together again, get married and have three kids and a dog. 

My parents had tried really hard to hide their devastation when I told them about the break up, telling me that there were plenty more fish in the sea and that the timing just wasn’t right for me to meet someone. They had then of course both reminisced about their university partners which had led to a row when my dad spoke about his university girlfriend Mandy a little bit too fondly. 

I stared down at my phone, deciding that I needed a distraction, and the best distraction was work. I logged out of my own instagram account and clicked on the first saved profile in my list. It was the player that I had been posting for the other day before Billy had his accident. I checked his recent posts and likes and nothing seemed to be out of place, except perhaps for the fact that it was around 3am and he was getting regular messages, the name Sam appearing on my screen once again.  By this point in my maddened, ex-stalking state I will admit that I was curious. I clicked the icon that took me to his inbox and began to read. 

They were conversing about his impending separation from his wife and about how they couldn’t wait to be together. I felt like throwing up in my mouth that one of the players that I worked with would behave like that, although I hadn’t really met this player in particular. His name was Jorginho and he was known as somewhat of a joker.  I kept out of his way for that very reason, not being a big fan of practical jokes and pranks.

I was about to close his inbox when another message came in.

What do we do about Ben?

I blinked and re-read the message several times. Ben? 

What on earth could Ben have to do with Jorginho cheating on his wife and leaving her for this woman, I wondered.

I clicked on her profile then and scrolled back through her pictures. She was a stunning brunette and her posts were mainly bikini pictures with the odd paid promotion thrown in here and there. I scrolled until a picture stopped me dead in my tracks. It was a picture of her with Ben, both smiling into the camera, their arms around each other and a caption that read ‘my everything’.

There were a few more pictures of them together and it was very evident that she had once been Ben’s girlfriend. At first I felt a bit numb, then I felt a pang of jealousy, and then I felt angry that she was conducting an affair with one of his team mates right under his nose and probably planning on lying to him about it.

I didn’t know what to do with this information.

He never has to know. I’m spending one more season here then my contract expires and we can go anywhere. 

I read his response, that confirmed what I feared. They were going to sneak around and hide this from Ben, probably until the divorce was finalised and then they would disappear off to another country and Ben would be left to read about it in the press. Unless i did something about it. 

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I had a meeting with Marina this morning. She commented that I seemed really distracted and I commented that I needed content other than Mason Mount to post onto social media. Marina had laughed and said that he was increasing our social media engagement and that we had new fans and shirt sales as a result of his appeal. I muttered something rude under my breath about what I thought about his appeal.

Marina and I had a really good working relationship and could banter with each other whilst still acting professionally and having a great deal of respect.

We had decided that I could capture my own content for our social media whenever I liked and would be provided with equipment such as a camera to enable me to. I had agreed to this to get me out of just posting Mason, but it did mean extra work for me, doubling up on the job of the club photographer and that I would need to spend more time outside on the pitches with the players, something I wasn’t sure I particularly fancied doing.

I hadn’t spoken to Ben since he kissed me, and now I felt even worse about it because I had been thinking about Rory, and had discovered that his ex and his team mate were sleeping together.

It was only the first of September, but I had started thinking about content for Halloween and maybe even thanks giving as we now had an American player at the club. 

I was just messing around with different shades of orange in photoshop when there was a knock on my office door. 

I got up from my desk slowly, silently praying that it wouldn’t be Ben because I couldn’t face him without blurting out the secret. 

Instead I had the displeasure of opening the door to find Mason Mount stood there.

“What do you want?” I sighed. 

“God you are sunshine and rainbows this morning. You look like you haven’t slept.” he said grinning. He was trying to make me laugh by jokingly insulting me and then cupped my face with his hands and started to stroke beneath my eyes with his thumbs. I was about to ask him what the bloody hell he was doing when he said “just smoothing out the wrinkles”. 

I shook him off and crossed my arms over my chest.

“Sorry.” he mumbled. 

I let him in then rather than the two of us just standing in the door way. He walked over to my desk and perched on the end exactly like Ben had done before he had kissed me. Except surely Mason wasn’t going to do that.

“What can I help you with?” I asked, trying my best to be polite to him. He had tried after all to make me laugh. It wasn’t his fault that I was so worried about everyone and everything else going on around here.

“I have a bit of a problem. My girlfriend is in this girl band and they are doing a music video next week that she wants me to be in so that they can get more views. The thing is, I’m not sure it really fits with my brand.” he explained, looking down at his shoes and the carpet, his eyes darting back up to me every few seconds while I considered a response. 

“Well footballers have been in music videos before without it affecting any of their sponsorship or brand deals.” I responded, thinking about the music video Fernando Torres had been in for a spanish band years ago. 

“Maybe it’s not my image i’m necessarily worried about. I feel a bit used but don’t know how to tell her.” as he spoke he looked vulnerable for the first time and the cheekiness was all gone. 

“So if I’m getting this right, they’re a band kind of breaking through and you being in the video would get them a lot of views and might get them really famous. Don’t you want your girlfriend to be successful?” as I asked him, he looked thoughtful, and then sad.

“I don’t really want to be with someone that now only wants me because I’m famous, and wants to leech fame from me.” he shrugged. 

I remembered the rant I had at him about how privileged he was for being rich and famous at such a young age, but I now started to consider that it must come with some drawbacks like not knowing if the people closest to you actually like you for who you are or if they want to use you for fame and fortune. 

“Well if you like, if they ask us for permission I will say no and that i need you for one of our campaigns whenever it is scheduled for and that it’s non negotiable because the club pays your wages.” He grinned and hopped off the edge of the desk. 

He made to step towards me but I held out my hand to stop him.

“No need to thank me.” 

He nodded and proceeded to head towards my office door. I stopped him just before he grabbed the handle by saying “Can I give you some advice? I don’ think that you should be with someone like that either.”

Without turning back to me, he sighed and responded “I don’t think that you should be with someone like Ben Chilwell”.

Before I could say anything else in response he opened the door and left

 ------------------------------------------------------

By lunchtime my brain was completely scrambled. I had busied myself with my idea for a thanksgiving tribute to Christian Pulisic the American player and planned special catering for the day to include a full turkey dinner in the canteen for him. That would of course give me the perfect opportunity for a post about how we are so thankful for him and want to make him feel at home. Marina would love it. 

I thought about hiding in my office until everyone returned to their jobs or their training and then going to the canteen, but I knew if I did that there would surely be no food left.

I was just loading my tray up with small items from the tapas menu when someone tapped me on the shoulder. Looking over it, I saw that it was Billy. His smile was 50-watt and could light up any room.

“Hey Billy, are you okay?” I asked him.

“Oh yes.” he nodded. “I’ve got a plan to ask ye friend out. Wanted to run it by you if you’re free?” 

I looked around and most of the tables were free so I agreed and said we could sit together and talk about it over lunch and that maybe Bri would join us if there wasn’t some kit emergency keeping her away. He smiled at that.

We sat down at a table by the window, a nice amount of sunshine came through it which warmed my back and the back of my neck nicely.

Billy went off immediately into explaining his plan to ask Bri out. He was going to have one of the lads accidentally rip his training shirt during the morning session so that he would have an excuse to go and see her.

“Hang on - tell me what day you’re planning this and I can distract her dad for a bit.” I interjected.

“Already got that covered sweetheart. He’s on a conference all of next week!” he grinned.

I looked puzzled and he laughed at the expression I was pulling. What kind of conference would a kit man need to go to? Were they brining out a new range or under armor or something like that?

“I know it sounds mad.” 

“It doesn’t just sound mad, it sounds like a good opportunity, go on.”I encouraged him.

He was going to fill one of the old unused offices with flowers and somehow convince Bri that she needed to follow him there so that he could ask her. It was so sweet and completely something that Bri would go for so I told him that his plan sounded brilliant and that I would help him in any way possible.

“I’m going to get her thinking about you in preparation you know.” I said, showing Billy a freshly edited picture of him on my phone screen that I was planning on posting that afternoon when I got back to my desk. “This beauty is going on all our social media pages. By the way, why did you never tell me that you used to model?”

He blushed bright scarlet when I brought up his modelling career and then we both descended into fits of laughter over it.

“You’re a really good friend, you know” he smiled. “If I can call you that.”

“Of course I’m your friend Billy.” I agreed.

“Well seeing as we are now best pals, do ye want to tell me what’s on your mind?” he asked.

I gulped, my mouth and throat suddenly feeling dry and uncomfortable. I couldn’t tell him what I had learnt about Jorginho, but maybe I could at least be honest about Rory.

“I had a really bad break up about a year ago and it’s still bothering me. Just you know, seeing other people happy and wondering what could have been.” I shrugged, trying to seem not fussed. I was bothered though and talking about it made the pain in my chest when I thought about him that little bit worse. I felt tears threatening to form.

Billy put his hand over mine and squeezed it.

“If you’re still following him or still friends on facebook, you need to delete him so that you can move on. Do you want me to do it for you?” he offered, holding his hand out to me for my phone.

Billy was right, I needed to let go of the part of me that still missed Rory, the part that felt jealous every time I saw what he was up to, and I could never get over that while it was accessible to me. 

I gave Billy my phone and told him Rory’s social media names even though he was the top person in all of my search history.

“Oh Katie, I’m sorry. It can’t have been nice to see him announce his engagement on here.” he said sympathetically.

It took a second for my brain and heart to catch up with each other and I felt sick to my stomach as I ask him to repeat himself.

I hadn’t heard him wrong and he showed me the post. I must have missed it by being so preoccupied with Ben’s situation. He had taken her to that fancy hotel in the Cotswolds to propose to her. Their grinning faces staring back at me from the picture didn’t feel like people I knew anymore.

“That’s that then. The end of that chapter of my life, officially.” I scraped my hair back and tied it up quickly.

“He’s gone from your virtual life too now.” Billy said, passing the phone back to me. 

“Thank you.” I said quietly. 

It’s hard to describe how you feel the second your hope for something shatters. The reality was that Rory was never going to realise that he had made a mistake and come back to me, because the reality was that we weren’t the same people we had been when we had first met at university and we had genuinely drifted apart. I could point the finger and blame him for possibly cheating, sure, but what good would that do me? Truth is we weren’t meant to be together and he hadn’t made a mistake. He had done the right thing to lead him to the person that he was supposed to be with. I just wished that I didn’t feel this way. I was sure that if I had moved on and met someone else my reaction would have been different. I might even have congratulated him. 

That evening I went home and cracked open a bottle of wine, and once I reached the bottom of it I cried myself to sleep.

[broccoliboix5peepeeman]

Req: Izuku & Katsuki were soulmates. There was a 💥 mark on Izuku's arm. But then Katsuki got his Quirk. And their relationship soured. And the suicide-bait/dare made Izuku realize that he & Katsuki aren't meant to be together. Because your soulmate aren't supposed to hurt you, right? So the next day when Izuku checks his arm, he notices the 💥 is gone, replaced with a ❄️🔥 mark.

(Oooooooo let’s go!!! Imma preface this with this is not bakudeku! Warning for descriptions of explicit bullying)

*

'Kacchan!' Izuku exclaimed, spotting his friend on the other side of the playground. He wiggled his hand out of his mum's grasp and ran forwards, despite her shouting after him to wait a minute.

Izuku was excited though!

Over the weekend, his soulmark had finally appeared and he couldn't wait to tell Kacchan about it. When he had asked his mum about it, she had told him that soulmarks could appear anywhere and that they were unique to each individual - they also tended to reflect a person's quirk, which Izuku thought was super cool.

Of course, Izuku didn't have a quirk, so he didn't know what his soulmate's own mark would look like, but when he woke up Sunday morning and saw the orange mark of a detonating explosion bleeding across his forearm, he couldn't help but wonder what kind of person his soulmate was.

'Kacchan!' He panted as he ran. However, when his friend turned around, a manic smile plastered to his face, Izuku skidded to a halt and stared at him with wide eyes.

Kacchan faced him, hands held out in front of him, palms up as small explosions emitted from them. Izuku watched as crackles of energy danced in the air around them, and instantly moved to trace the soulmark covering his arm.

My soulmate is...

'Oh look, it's Deku.' Kacchan smirked. 'Guess whose quirk showed up over the weekend! Unlike you, I have a quirk and it's the best ever!'

To accentuate his point, he set off a flurry of explosions as the kids around him cheered with excitement and wonder. Izuku winced slightly at the sound, but gathered the courage to speak up.

'That's a really cool quirk, Kacchan!' He smiled up at his friend. 'I got my soulmark yesterday too! Did you get yours?'

Izuku hadn't meant anything by it - just childlike curiosity - but Kacchan scoffed anyway and looked at him with disdain.

'I don't care about soulmarks, they're stupid!' He put special emphasis on the last word and sneered at Izuku, before leaning in close to whisper in his ear. 'After all, they've got it wrong. If my soulmate is a quirkless nobody like the mark on my arm says, then I don't want him.'

Izuku trembled as he looked down at his friend's arm to find the slightest smudge of green poking out from under his sleeve.

'Ka- Kacchan…' He hated the way his vision had started to blur. He knew how much everyone already loathed him for being quirkless, but it still hurt to hear his best friend say such mean words.

'Also, from now on you're going to cover your arm, Deku.' Kacchan continued, wrapping his hand around Izuku's soulmark and squeezing hard. 'If anyone finds out that I'm connected to you in any way, then I'll burn the mark off myself.'

Kacchan pulled away then and returned to the crowd of awaiting children, showing off more of his quirk. 'Got it?!'

Izuku nodded quickly. When the blonde vanished into his sea of admirers, he swallowed heavily and looked down at his feet, until his mum finally approached from his side and placed a hand on his shoulder.

'Are you okay, sweetie?' She knelt down and looked at him, concerned. 'I was just talking to Aunt Mitsuki, apparently Katsuki got his quirk. Did you tell him about your soulmark?'

'He said he doesn't care about that stuff.'

'Is that why you're upset?'

'I'm not upset!' Izuku tried to smile at his mum reassuringly, but he was betrayed by the large tears that started to fall from his eyes. 'I promise, I'm okay.'

'Oh, Izuku.' She whispered, wiping away his tears before wrapping him in a tight hug. 'Was he being mean to you again?'

'No.' Izuku lied, burying his face in his mum's shoulder as small sobs escaped him.

'Baby, I can't help if you don't tell me.' She urged him, stroking his hair. 'I can always talk to your teachers or Aunt Mitsuki or-'

'Please don't.' He whispered. It wouldn't help anyway; his teachers knew what was going on, and if Kacchan found out Izuku had told on him, then that would make things worse. 'I'm fine!'

Izuku pulled back and wiped at his red eyes, before flashing his signature All Might smile. 'Everything's fine! Heroes don't cry!'

His mum tried to smile back, but her eyes were sad. In the distance, he heard a series of explosions, followed by laughter.

Kacchan is my soulmate… But soulmates are meant to love each other.

☀️

'What’ve you got there, Deku?' Kacchan smirked as he shoved into Izuku and yanked his notebook out of his hands.

'Kacchan, don't!' He pleaded, reaching out to try and grab his second hero analysis book. 'Please give it back!'

His friend laughed and held it high in the air so Izuku couldn't reach. He tried to get past him, gripping onto Kacchan's uniform to try and pull the notebook towards him.

'Oh, I don't think so.' He spoke dangerously.

This wasn't the first time this had happened - Izuku was used to having his things stolen as he was mocked for trying to get them back. He had recently gotten to the point where he had just accepted that Kacchan wasn't going to return any of the items, so had stopped putting up a fight when it happened. He couldn't just do that now though. His hero analysis books were important! He needed it back!

'Please, Kacchan! Please give it back! I'm begging you!' He cried, fearful tears streaming down his cheeks.

'Hey, stop crying!' Was all the response he got before a rough hand wrapped around his wrist and he was pushed to the ground, small explosions shooting across his skin like needles. Izuku didn't cry at the pain though. He had long since gotten used to the feeling of his soulmate's blows. After all, he had the mark branded onto his skin to remind him. 

He tried to scramble to his feet but was stopped by two of Kacchan's cronies, who had each put a foot on his arms to hold him down. He could do nothing but stare as his friend moved to stand over him, flipping open the notebook and scanning the pages.

'"The offensive strategies used by All Might and how it gives insight into the true nature of his quirk."' Kacchan huffed, before looking away to meet Izuku's gaze. 'What the fuck is this, Deku?'

'M- My hero analysis book.' He stuttered out. 'I'm writing down things about heroes and quirks, that's all. Please give it back. I'll do anything!'

The grin that appeared on Kacchan's face was enough to turn Izuku's blood cold. He swallowed heavily and stared up at him, apprehension evident on his face.

'Anything?'

Izuku sighed, resigned to whatever fate they chose for him, and closed his eyes.

'Yes. Just give me my book back, please.'

Smirking, Kacchan opened the book once more and ripped a page out, eliciting a cry from Izuku. 'Wait! What are you doing?! I-'

He was cut off when Kacchan suddenly crouched down and hovered over him, crumpling the page up into a ball and holding it out.

'Eat it.'

Izuku froze.

'W- What?'

'I said,' His friend began sweetly, 'Eat it, Deku!'

His companions sniggered from above. 'You want your precious notebook back? You're gonna get it back.'

Fresh tears welled up in Izuku's eyes as his mouth was forced open.

That evening, when his mum asked him why he was late home, Izuku said nothing; numerous paper cuts stung the inside of his mouth. Once he made it to the bathroom, finally allowing his nausea to consume him, he felt himself scratch at the soulmark mocking his arm.

Was his life always going to be like this?

☀️

'If you wanna be a hero so bad, there's actually a really good way!' Kacchan spoke from the door of the classroom. 'If you believe they're holding your quirk over in the next world, you should just dive off the rooftop!'

Izuku fished his ruined hero analysis notebook out of the pond. Really, he should keep his books at home, but he could never bring himself to do it - what if he missed something important because he hadn’t been able to write it down? Additionally, even after over a decade, Izuku’s love for documenting heroes far outweighed his fear of Kacchan, much to the latter's distaste.

'That's not food, stupid fish.' He sniffled as he pulled the book out of the pond, water dripping from the damp pages and trickling down his arm. Izuku winced as his wet sleeve stuck to him, before rolling them up as he fruitlessly tried to dry his notebook.

As he worked, the bright orange mark on his arm shone out of the corner of his eye, staring at him; judging him. Izuku tried to ignore it, but it was no use. He dropped the book onto the stone edging of the pond, watching as liquid seeped out from under it, before he sat down next to it. He held his arm out in front of him and inspected the soulmark that he had grown to hate even more than Kacchan.

We're not meant to be together, we both know it. He traced the raised skin, surrounded by actual scars left by Kacchan's explosions. The orange shone among the mass of silver.

I hate him. I truly hate him for everything he's done. No matter how hard I try, all he does is hurt me. So why? Why are you here? I don't understand. If this is meant to be a destined love, then I'm sorry but I don't want it. The moment I knew it was him, I didn't want it.

Izuku leant forward and held his face in his hands as tears streamed down his cheeks.

Please...

🌙

Shoto woke with a start, drenched in sweat from another nightmare. Instead of his father or whistling kettles though, he had dreamt of explosions, of singed skin and red eyes. He wondered what it had meant.

He panted heavily and blinked as he adjusted to the morning sun that illuminated his room.

'Fuck sake.' Shoto muttered to himself, raising an arm to block the rays shining directly onto his face. However, a dark shadow covering his forearm immediately caught his attention. Eyebrow raised and nightmare completely forgotten, he brought his arm towards him to inspect the mark. 'What the..?'

There was a fork of green lightning etched onto his skin, strings of crimson wrapped around the emerald like vines as the mark spanned the majority of his arm.

Shoto knew about soulmarks and soulmates - they spoke enough about it at school that the subject had been begrudgingly ingrained into his memory. He just… never expected to have a soulmark himself. His old man always told him that soulmates were a distraction and that it was a good thing that Shoto's mark never presented. Personally, he didn't have that strong of an opinion on the topic. After all, life had taught Shoto never to expect anything good anyway - or else he'd be greatly disappointed - so it made sense that he would be cursed to be alone as well.

He continued to stare at his arm as the fingertips of his other hand traced the bolts of green lightning with interest.

Would it be so bad as to hope that his soulmate was a kind person?

☀️

Izuku's back hit the wall with a loud thud. He trembled violently as Kacchan stood over him, his grip tight on his UA uniform collar.

'You bastard.' His old friend snarled. 'Not only have you been hiding your quirk all these years, but now you pull some bullshit and somehow manage to switch soulmates? What the fuck is going on, Deku?'

'I-' Kacchan was really asking him that? 'I thought you didn't want me for a soulmate anyway?'

'Like hell I do!' He yelled in response. 'I'm glad I don't have that ugly mark on my arm anymore, but I wanna know how you did it!'

'I didn't do anything!' Izuku begged him to understand. He really hadn't done anything. He had just woke up that morning, ready to start his first day at UA, when he realised that the orange explosion that had littered his arm was gone, replaced as if it had never been there at all.

Izuku remembered tracing the new mark, a silver snowflake that was half alight with scarlet flames. He had no idea what had happened for it to change, but he silently thanked whoever or whatever was responsible for it. As long as it wasn't Kacchan, Izuku didn't mind who he was destined to be with.

'Stop lying!' His friend suddenly exclaimed, causing him to jump. 'Show me your arm! I wanna see what-'

'Is there a problem here?' A new voice suddenly spoke. The grip on Izuku's collar loosened as Kacchan turned to regard the newcomer, vexed at having been interrupted. Curious, Izuku leant past the blonde to see who had spoken.

Stood in the doorway of the otherwise empty classroom was one of their new classmates - Todoroki Shoto, if he remembered correctly.

...

Who was he kidding? Of course he remembered correctly. The moment he had first locked eyes with the dual-quirk user earlier that day, Izuku had practically swooned. He was, in every sense of the word, gorgeous, after all.

Now though, that beauty, along with his cold stare, felt so intimidating that Izuku found himself unable to meet his eyes, even if the glare wasn’t aimed at him. Instead, he watched Kacchan, waiting for his response.

'None of your business, Icyhot.' He sneered. 'Deku and I were just talking.'

'Really?' A white eyebrow rose as their classmate looked on, unimpressed. 'Seems to me that Midoriya clearly doesn't want to be here. He certainly doesn't look keen to show you his arm either.'

Izuku jumped at that and found himself gripping at his sleeves defensively.

'I don't give a shit if he doesn't want to be here. I'm getting answers, even if I have to beat it out of him!' Kacchan let off a bunch of explosions from his palm to emphasise his point; Izuku winced from the proximity.

'I don't think so.' Todoroki stepped into the room fully. 'I think you're going to get your things and leave, unless you want me to go get Aizawa-Sensei, or maybe All Might.'

Kacchan stiffened at the mention of the two heroes. Sure, in middle school he had all the teachers wrapped around his little finger, but they both knew UA was different; Aizawa especially wouldn't be as easy to fool.

Izuku watched as the two stared each other down, before Kacchan finally tsked and pushed himself away from the wall.

'This isn't over, Deku.' He called as he sauntered past Todoroki and out of the door.

The moment he was out of sight, Izuku sighed heavily as his legs buckled beneath him. He slid down the wall and landed on the floor clumsily, legs extended out in front of him.

He heard Todoroki call his name, but he sounded so far away. It wasn't until a warm hand came to rest on his shoulder that Izuku realised how close his classmate had gotten.

'Midoriya.' Todoroki stared at him with dichromatic eyes that held so much emotion despite his stoic countenance. 'Are you alright? Did Bakugou hurt you?'

Izuku blinked dumbly for a moment, before shaking his head. No one his age had ever cared enough to ask him that.

'N- No, I'm okay.' Izuku assured.

I've had worse.

'Why-' Izuku began, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. 'Why did you help me?'

'It's a hero's job to help, isn't it?' Todoroki replied, albeit his guarded look seemed to falter slightly as he considered his next words. 'Also… I wanted- I wanted to talk to you too, if you don't mind?'

'Wanted to talk? T- To me?' Izuku pointed to himself and tilted his head to the side. When Todoroki nodded, he found himself mirroring the action. 'O- Okay…'

Pleased with his answer, his classmate stiffened his posture as he prepared himself. 'I have no intention of making friends at this school. UA is merely a stepping stone for me to become a hero.'

Okay…

'That being said,' Todoroki continued to stare at him intensely. 'I can't simply ignore you, Midoriya. I saw the mark on your arm when we were changing into our costumes earlier.'

Izuku's eyes widened as realisation dawned on him. While part of his mind was screaming about the fact that Todoroki had watched him change, the other part was freaking out that he had seen his soulmark.

Before he could say anything though, Shoto rolled up his sleeve to show a fork of green lightning etched onto his skin. Sure, it could be Izuku, he thought, but only because it was green.

'I think we're soulmates.' Todoroki continued. 'My mark only appeared today, and Bakugou was bitching about how his had vanished. Plus, yours is pretty obvious considering my quirk is half hot, half cold, so...'

He trailed off, noticing how Izuku had started to tear up. ‘Midoriya?’

'You…' He whispered. 'You're…'

'Apologies if you're disappointed, but-'

In a moment of boldness, Izuku cut him off by throwing himself forwards and wrapping Todoroki in a tight hug. His classmate froze at the contact, arms glued to his sides.

'I'm sorry for not asking first.' Izuku mumbled, chin bouncing on his shoulder as he spoke. 'I'm just- I'm so happy. Thank you.'

'You don't even know me.' Todoroki murmured, confused. 'You might hate me. I could be a terrible person.'

'No, you're not.' Izuku laughed. 'You don't know me either, but you stepped in when Kacchan was bothering me. No one's ever done that before, I'd say that's a good start.'

He considered his next words. 'Plus, if the universe is giving me a second chance, I’d like to think they got it right this time.'

Several more moments passed, before Izuku realised Todoroki looked slightly uncomfortable and gingerly withdrew. He rubbed the back of his neck and laughed nervously. 'Sorry about that.'

'No.' The slight blush on Todoroki's face was pretty, Izuku noticed. 'It's just… I haven't.' He sighed and scratched his cheek. 'That's the first hug I've had in a while. It was… Nice.'

Izuku beamed at that.

'Well, as your soulmate, you've won a lifetime supply of free hugs if you ever need them!'

The corner of Todoroki's lips twitched upward and Izuku silently thanked whatever force of nature was responsible for allowing him this unexpected happiness.

'I might take you up on that, Midoriya.'

[trojc-rewrite]

The Rise of Jimmy Casket Rewrite, Chapter 6

TW - grotesque imagery, gore

——————————————————————————

The morning had gone pretty smoothly, downing eggs and water early in the morning so Ghost could rent a car and bring Toast to the nearest walk-in clinic, and then brought him to a nearby hospital for stitches. The wound needed at least 4, and Toast was grossed out by how the stitches looked in his skin, the way his wound felt tight whenever he moved his leg. It made his face wrinkle in grimace.

Toast sat in the car on the way back from the hospital, still recovering from the anasthasia, everything felt light and yet so heavy, his eye lids threatened to fall, and he was sure he was making absolutely no sense whatsoever cause Ghost chuckled at everything he said.

Some weird pop song played on the radio, filling a silence that Toast didn’t even register was there. It wasn’t until Ghost started talking that he realized the quiet.

“Hey, Toast.” Toast turned to him, his head felt weird when he moved, like instead of a brain he had a bowl of cold soup in his head. But he forced himself to look serious, he was starting to calm down from the anasthasia anyways, so he could manage something of the nature.

“Yes, sir?” He mumbled out, it took a lot to form an articulated sentence, one that actually made sense.

Ghost parked in the hotel parking lot, sighing a small bit.

“Toast, I just want to apologize again. I am so sorry for leaving you to deal with P.I.E, it was such a shitty move on my part.” Ghost said.

“No, no sir, it's all right.” He managed. Ghost shook his head.

“No, it’s not.” He said, frustrated. He grabbed Toasts hands in his own, sighing. “Look, let me apologize because we both know this never happens. I’m sorry, for being such a shitty friend and boss. You, whether I like or not, are now kinda the leader. And I’ve been feeling like shit for leaving you to deal with it. I’m sorry.”

Toast blinked, kind of shocked. He blinked, not really knowing what to say.

“I accept your apology sir. But now that we’re all together, we need to start working as a team. And, if I may add this in, you might want to apologize to Spooker and especially Colon for leaving sir.” Toast said quietly.

Ghost raised his brow, staring at him with his green eye.

Toast nodded, “They were very hurt when you left. They look up to you. Colon was just telling me about his frustrations with you just the other night. “

Ghost looked lost, “But what would I say?”

Toast smiled at him. “You’ll know when the time comes. It will be genuine.”

Ghost licked his teeth nervously, before nodding. “Okay, lets go get Colon and Spooker. A walk will do us good.”

Ghost helped Toast up to the hotel room, getting ready for the walk. It had been a while where Toast could just relax, and he was hyped for a nice walk.

They walked late into the night, watching the sun go down behind the trees as the sky melted from blue, to purple and gold. The moon hung high over head, so clear and bright. It casted silver shadows across the forest floor, leaves dappling the light.

Toast was walking with Colon, the tall man helping him support himself. He also took a few times to point out an animal or two.

One time, a doe had crossed their path with a fawn in toe and they all had to pretend they weren’t there. Afterwards, Spooker had almost melted into the ground, crying about how cute it was.

The leaves above them ruffled, a cold gasp of air rolling over them. Toast smiled, feeling refreshed.

A small stream trickled near them, a few leaves following the current. Frogs hopped over the rocks, moonlight reflecting off the cloudy water.

Spooker turned to the stream, his eyes round in awe. “Oh my God! Frogs!” He whispered excitedly. He knelt down, his knees squelching in mud. He held out his hand, reaching out for a frog. The frog jumped into the water before he could catch it.

He turned to another, and another, until finally. “Aha! I got one!” He whispered, picking up the frog gently. The green amphibian let out a small ribbit, hopping around in his palms.

“I’m gonna name you, Fredrick.” He cooed, petting the amphibians back. Ghost made a disgusted face.

“Ew- you’re naming it after yourself?” He said, raising a brow. Spooker stuck out his tongue, gently putting the frog back in the grass.

“No. My name is Fred.” He emphasized, “The frog's name is Fredrick.”

Ghost rolled his eye jokingly, a smile cracking onto his face ever so slightly.

“Well I for one, love Fredrick.” Toast said with a smile, watching the frog hop away.

“Thank you T-“

Spooker was cut off by a loud rustling noise, coming from far ahead. Toast snapped his head up, glaring into the dark. His fight of flight senses kicked in, his only instinct to protect his friends.

He limped forwards, being careful not to step on any twigs, or anything else that would cause a loud noise. Moss squished under his feet, splashing quietly.

Ghost hissed from behind him, “No, Toast!” He whispered. Toast ignored him, pulling out his gun from his side holster.

He entered a thicket, wet leaves pointed at him. He felt uneasy, and jumped as a bug flew past his face.

Then, with the speed of a snake, something lunged from the bushes with a wide, yellowed smile.

He was pushed to the ground, his gun knocking out of his hand. He rolled over, pain blasting throughout his body.

He grabbed it, sitting up and fired. The shot rang out, Toast’s ears rang with silence, the world going quiet.

The shadowy figure stood in mist that seemed to come from nowhere, eyes staring at him from the fog.

It loomed over him, walking forward.

“Hey Toaster. It’s been a while!” It whispered excitedly, it’s red eyes wide.

It leaned forward, it’s face close to his. It smelled like rotting flesh; the acrid smell hitting him in the face. Sour and rotten.

It’s skin was pale, cheek bones exposed. It had matted, dark brown hair. Dirt covered it’s cheeks, a thin lipped smile crossed it’s face.

Toast blinked, shuffling away from it.

“Who- what?” He asked. Confusion clouded Toast’s gaze. ‘Who is this?’

The figure frowned. “I can’t believe you don’t remember me! But, it’s been a while since I’ve been in this form. So allow me to introduce myself.”

He stuck out his pale hand, long bloody fingernails pointed at him.

“Jimmy Casket. World renowned murderer.”

Toast let out a long, shuddering breath. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Jimmy’s frame was thin, long arms covered in bandages. He wore an unzipped blue hoodie, tattered at the edges, sleeves rolled up. Under the hoodie was a red shirt. His clothes were all bloodstained and crusty, hardened from dried fluids.

His eyes had yellow and red around the outsides, sunken in with deep eye bags. A long, sickly scar crossed the side of his face. It pulled up his lip, exposing his reddened gums and teeth base. They were blackened at the roots. Stringy saliva webbed between his teeth as he opened his mouth.

He laughed, blood splattering on Toast’s clothes. Toast gagged, fighting off the urge to vomit.

“What do you want from me?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jimmy smiled wider, his sunken eyes growing wide with manic. His breath stank like carrion, blood bubbling from the back of his throat.

“To watch you suffer, until you die!” He cackled.

Suddenly Jimmy’s body jerked to the side, blood splattering on the side of his head. He staggered to the side, trying to catch his balance. His eyes grew empty.

Ghost jumped through the bushes, charging for the spirit. Colon came out with his gun drawn, Spooker rushing to Toast’s side.

“I’m okay!” Toast said urgently. Spooker helped him up as Colon shot at Jimmy, blood splattering on his outfit.

The spirit fell to the ground, his eyes empty. The two investigators breathed heavily, blood on their outfits.

Colon and Ghost turned to Toast, eyes round and horrified. “You dumbass!” Ghost yelled.

Colon rolled his eyes, putting his gun back in his holster.

“I’ll be okay don- COLON LOOK OUT!” Toast screamed.

Jimmy lunged onto Colon, grappling him from the back. His long nails digging into his face. Ghost turned, grabbing Colon's hand and ripping him from the ghost. Toast pulled out his gun again.

“Get away from us you bastard!” Toast cried, aiming the gun at him.

Jimmy laughed, raising his hands. He gave him a sly look.

“Didn’t you guys just ‘kill’ me, do you think a gun is going to do anything to me?” He said slyly.

Ghost bared his teeth. “What do you want you ugly fucker?” He said, pulling out his pocket knife.

Jimmy gave him a semi injured look.

“Look, you guys can’t kill me.” He said, with somewhat of a suave energy.

“You can’t kill a highly leveled ghost with puny human weapons. The only way to kill me is to be a ghost yourselves.” He laughed, his head rearing back in estaticsm.

“The only way to get rid of me is for me to be inside one of your minds again! Or else I’ll be here forever, picking all of you off one by one.” He said with an evil grin.

Ghost faltered, his angry expression twitching to hopelessness.

Jimmy loomed closer to Ghost, his face inches away from his. He looked angry, but betrayal lingered in the ghost’s red eyes.

“Until none of you are left.” He whispered angrily.

Ghost stared at him, cowering under his gaze. His eye was wide, eyebrows furrowed. Jimmy looked angry, yet sly.

Ghost stammered. “I- I-“

Toast took his arm, “Let’s go!” He yelled.

Colon shot at Jimmy again, hitting him with a bullet in the eye. Jimmy staggered backwards, letting out a cry of pain as red hot blood squirted from his face. He grabbed his face, anger filling his face.

Toast grabbed Spooker by the arm and they ran through the forest. Leaves got in his way, he narrowly dodged them.

Jimmy yowled from yards behind them, sprinting after them. Toast's feet barely hit the ground as he ran. Ghost ran beside him, panting wildly.

Colon ran behind them, his gun trained on Jimmy, occasionally shooting. Spooker looked hopeless, wanting to help Colon.

They reached the hotel room, slamming the door behind them. They all waited in tense silence, everyone keeping their eyes on the door.

After about 20 minutes of staring, Toast let out a sigh and fell onto the bed. “I think we’re okay.” He said.

Ghost screwed his eye shut, a sob escaping his throat.

“What are we going to do?!” He yelled, throwing a pillow at the wall.

For once, Toast did not have an answer.

——————————————————————————

FINALLY, we get to see the dude in the NAME OF THE FUCKING STORY!!!

[littlespoonevan]

Hi! I love your fics so much, they're so cute!!! I was wondering if you could write about Mickey's reaction to Ian's Monica tattoo and/or his black hair in prison? Hope you have a great day!

first of all, thank you :’)) and askdjlhf god i am so wEAK for anything involving their prison reunion!!! this kind of devolved from hair talk to relationship talk in the middle lmao but hopefully you still like it!!

(also just a head’s up: i’m not gonna be accepting anymore prompts at the moment bc i really want to clear out the ones i already have so i can start on my long fic. i hope people don’t mind!!!)

*

Ian had really believed he’d never see Mickey again.Ian had really believed prison would be the end of him. Ian had really believeda lot of things until his cell door had opened and Mickey Milkovich was suddenlystanding in front of him, here to save him from himself one last time.

After the initial reunion – the delicate kiss thathad turned hurried until Mickey reluctantly reminded him the window to theircell wasn’t exactly one-sided – they stay on Mickey’s bunk. To be honest, thisposition is no less compromising than what they’d been doing ten minutes agobut Ian isn’t quite prepared to have Mickey out of his reach just yet. Mickey’shalf-sitting, half-laying down as he sticks to his original spot leaningagainst the pillow while Ian sits slouched with his back against the wall andhis right leg pressed up against Mickey’s.

“The fuck is with all this anyway?” Mickey asks whenthere’s a momentary lull in their conversation, hand reaching up to scrubthrough Ian’s hair.

“Oh.” Ian blushes and ducks his head to stare down athis hands. “Guess I didn’t wanna draw attention to myself.”

Mickey raises his eyebrows and his mouth curves up ina smile and it’s such a familiar look Ian feels like fucking crying. He neverthought he’d see Mickey look like that again.

“You know your eyebrows don’t really match your hair,”Mickey comments then, snickering when Ian hits his leg half-heartedly.

“You got a better idea?” Ian grumbles, leaning hishead back against the wall to meet Mickey’s gaze.

“Yeah, don’t get fuckin’ arrested for blowing up avan.”

Ian winces, feeling shame burn through him, but thenMickey’s reaching out and taking his hand. He runs his thumb over the skin ofIan’s knuckles and Ian watches Mickey watch their hands for a minute.

“What the fuck happened, Ian?” Mickey asks softly,finally raising his gaze to meet Ian’s.

Ian shrugs uncomfortably and squeezes Mickey’s handtight in his own to ground himself. “Stopped taking my meds,” he admits quietly.“No one really noticed until it was too late, I guess.”

“What d’you mean no one noticed?” Mickey asks and helooks pissed but not at Ian, he doesn’t think.

Ian shrugs again. “I guess I seemed okay for the mostpart and people had other shit going on. The whole Gay Jesus thing, it gotoutta control pretty quickly.”

“What about that guy you were seeing?” Mickey askssuddenly and Ian hates the reminder of Trevor, hates that Mickey even had toknow about him.

“He’d never seen me manic before,” Ian says. “Guesshe didn’t know what signs to look for.”

“I didn’tknow what signs to look for,” Mickey snaps – again, he doesn’t direct it at Ianbut more the situation at large. “Fuck, you weren’t even diagnosed back then,there was no fuckin’ medication for you to be taking and I knew something waswrong. I knew-“

Mickey cuts himself off abruptly, huffing out afrustrated breath and Ian squeezes his hand again, tugging on it just a bit toget Mickey to look at him.

“You would’ve known this time too,” Ian murmurs. “Iknow you would’ve. It’s okay, it’s my fault you weren’t there. Not yours.”

Mickey doesn’t argue with him or disagree, just sitsup a little straighter and moves himself closer into Ian’s space. “You feelokay now?”

Ian nods earnestly. “I’m stable,” he promises. “Haven’tmissed a dose since I sorted my shit out.”

“Good,” Mickey replies, low and half-mumbled.

“And for what it’s worth,” Ian continues, leaningforward to bump his forehead against Mickey’s before returning to his originalspot. “Me and Trevor are done. I tried to make myself want him again after-after you. But it didn’t really work. My heart wasn’t in it.”

Mickey looks at him, eyes darting all over Ian’s facelike he’s trying to read him for answers. Ian lets him look, drinks in thesight of Mickey before him and reminds himself this is real.

“We should talk about it,” Mickey says finally, eyesflitting to their hands and back up again. “Just- we can wait a couple ofhours.”

Ian nods and smiles because he gets it. They have amountain of shit to work through, probably as far back as the second timeMickey got out of juvie, if they’re being honest, and he knows being stuck in thesame room for the foreseeable future is the perfect excuse to finally do it.But…they just got each other back. And it seems like Mickey wants to bask inthe reunion just as much as he does.

“How’d you find out about me anyway?” Ian asks becausehe hasn’t yet and while Mickey’s always seemed to have a sixth sense aboutknowing when Ian’s in trouble and always seems to show up at exactly the righttime, this one feels a little beyond the realm of possibility.

Mickey shrugs and this time he’s the one who looksembarrassed. “Some kid in Mexico had a shirt with your face on it. I asked himabout it.”

Ian can’t believe that. Can’t believe Mickey wouldrisk everything – the new life he’d built, his freedom, his safety – just to come back here and bewith Ian. But he supposes he should. Back in the early days all Ian had wantedwas some kind of proof that Mickey loved him, that he wanted to stay. Now- thisis quite possibly the biggest love declaration he could’ve made.

“We can talk about that shit later too,” Mickey saysthen, brushing Ian’s thoughts away with a wave of his hand. “What we reallyneed to discuss now,” he continues, hand snaking up the back of Ian’s neckuntil his fingers are tangled in Ian’s hair, “is what the fuck we’re gonna doabout your hair.”

Ian barks out a laugh. “You miss the red?”

Mickey gives him an exasperated look that’s verypointedly not a denial. “You might have to go back to your buzzcut days, army.”

Ian grins at the old nickname and doesn’t protestwhen Mickey uses the hand on the back of his head to guide him closer.

“But then you can’t put your hands in my hair,” Ianpoints out teasingly. Tugging on Ian’s hair has always been one of Mickey’sweaknesses and judging by the look on his face, it still is.

Mickey seems to weigh his options for a moment beforehis nods decisively. “I can deal for a few weeks.”

Ian’s grin is so wide he thinks his face is going tosplit in two as he shakes his head. “You’re so full of shit.”

Mickey scoffs. “So I gotta type, sue me.” He’ssmirking at Ian now, fingers massaging the back of Ian’s scalp and it’s just-it’s the combination of the teasing and the comfort. It’s everything Ian needsand exactly what makes him lean in to kiss Mickey again, current environment bedamned.

Mickey kisses him back anyway, soft and sweet, andlets his forehead linger against Ian’s for a moment when they break apart.

They’re both quiet for a beat but then Mickey leansback. “Seriously though, first thing in the morning. We’re getting you a razor.”

Ian laughs and thinks the next two years of his lifesuddenly sound a lot more bearable.

*

[rpmemes-galore]

Halsey --- Manic Album  {Sentence Starters}

“Think I took it way too far.”

“I'm my own biggest enemy.”

“I think I'm making a mistake.”

“I only wanna die some days.”

“Then I'll just hate everybody.”

“Took my heart and sold it out.”

“Hope a bit of it will be enough.”

“I'll leave you the dust, my love.”

“I don't know how you even see.”

“Somehow, I just want you more.”

“And I'm terrified, but I can't resist.”

“And if they laugh, then fuck 'em all.”

“I won't stop ‘til I get where you are.”

“You look at me with eyes so dark...”

“I hope that you hurt more than I do.”

“I was afraid to leave you on your own.”

“Oh my God, there's no way that's me.“

“I tried to help you. It just made you mad.”

“Someone, please come and flirt with me.”

“There's power in the words you whisper...”

“You can take a chance, come take my hand.”

“I'm so glad I never ever had a baby with you.”

“But it seems I'm only clinging to an idea now.”

“That I wasn't in love then, and I'm still not now.”

“Stuck between the having it all and giving it up.”

“Seems like, now, it's impossible to work this out.”

“Can't remember half the time that I've been alive.”

“Is it really that strange if I always wanna change?”

“'Cause I don't need anyone, I don't need anyone.”

“No, you're not half the man you think that you are.”

“Bad news, think I'll probably die before I have you.”

“Got no anger, got no malice, just a little bit of regret.”

“And I can't remember why the decision wasn't mine.”

“I spent a long time substituting honest with sarcastic.”

“I know that I love you, but I'm still learning to love myself.”

“It's crazy when the thing you love the most is the detriment.”

“You should know there's power in the words you're thinking.”

“I'm just a fucked up girl who's lookin' for my own piece of mind.”

“And in my world, the people on the street don't know my name.”

“Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby. Nothing's gonna make you cry.”

“I know that I've done some wrong, but I'm trying to make it right.”

“If I could make you love me, maybe you could make me love me.”

“And you can't fill the hole inside of you with money, drugs and cars.”

“'Cause you can't love nothing unless there's something in it for you.”

“Would you make out with me underneath the shelter of the balcony?“

“It's still not strong enough to carry the weight of the choices I've made.”

“I'm the worst of my enemies and I don't really know what to do with me.”

“Told me pick my battles and be picking 'em wise, but I wanna pick 'em all and I don't want to decide.”

[saharamae21]

All of My Wrongs - Chapter Ten

Pairing: Topper x OC and Rafe x OC

Summary: As things at Rory’s home unravel, she finds herself reconciling with the one person she thinks life would be better off without her in it. Topper just wants for her to be okay and she wants to make sure she doesn’t ruin his life. As the events unfold, Rory opens up to Topper about things she’s never told anyone and begins to except that he might be good for her. How far is too far though?

Word Count: 2.7K

A/N: Thank you for all the positive feedback, I love hearing what you guys have to say! Please keep commenting and sharing your thoughts with me.

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I knew I should’ve gone home that night, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I hated my mom right now and I didn’t want to be there. I couldn’t be there. Instead, I stayed at the place Rafe was crashing and tried to relax. I had to compose myself in order to go home and act like nothing was happening. It was the only way I’d ever get through the next few years living at home.

I woke up the next morning, still stuck between Rafe’s arms. He was so peacefully asleep that I didn’t want to disturb him. I knew I had to head back though. I tried to slip out of his arms undetected, but he tightened his grip and groaned. Mission failed. I smiled at him as his eyes flickered open. They were such a pretty shade of blue.

“Morning buttercup,” he said with the faintest of smiles. He looked so happy. I smiled and cuddled into him, wrapping my arms around him tightly. I loved when all of the worry left his eyes. I loved when he didn’t have a care in the world. If I could do that for him, maybe I wouldn’t be so worthless after all. He chuckled as I clung to him and kissed the top of my head. He was the only person who wanted me in their life.

“I should go home,” I muttered into his chest. He tightened his grip on me as if telling me to stay. “I’ve barely been home since we moved here, Rafe. I’ll come back tomorrow. I promise.”

“Fine,” he muttered and loosened his hold on me. I gave him a small smile as I got out of the bed. His face looked so calm as he looked at me. I wondered how long it would take for me to disappoint him…

The drive home was far too short. I stood outside the front door and stared at the knob. I didn’t want to go inside. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath, but then I heard Skipper’s voice. He sounded distressed. I instantly reached for the handle and flung the door open. Inside stood my mom and Skipper. He was chasing her to the back entrance. She was carrying a plethora of things, my things. I called out and asked what was going on, but no one answered me. My mom acted as if Skip and I didn’t exist at all. She just continued to walk to the backyard. I ran after, bursting through the sliding door. Outside, there was a huge flame in the fire pit. Skip was trying to stop my mom from tossing more items into the flames, but with no success. I ran over and peered in the fire. Picture frames, notebooks, artwork. All of it was burning up and on top of the pile lied Newton. Tears filled my eyes as I tried to reach in to pull him out, but my dad stopped me. He screamed at mom and asked her what she was doing. He held me back as I desperately tried to grab my belongings from the fire.

“Stop yelling at me! This is her fault! It’s not like she wants to be a part of this family anymore!” my mom screamed. I listened to my dad yell at Skip to go inside. He told him to go inside and he would be in shortly after. After Skip ran into the house, dad released me. I had calmed down a little bit. I stood there motionless, tears streaming down my face. Normally I would just go inside. I would act like I was fine and this didn’t affect me. Not today though.

“What did I do to you?” I asked softly. My dad told me to go inside. He begged me. I couldn’t though. I had to understand her. “What did I do wrong? I’ve tried to be everything you’ve ever wanted and nothing is good enough! So, what did I do?”

“You existed,” she said coldly. I heard my dad yell at her. “You’re the reason I’m not happy. You’re the reason I can’t love Skipper. You did this to me. You ruined me!”

Her worlds swirled around my head, but for the first time they stuck. Everything was my fault. If I had never been born, she wouldn’t be like this. I caused the post-partum depression that led into her manic depression. I corrupted her like a computer virus. I broke down in tears as I rushed past her, desperate to get away from her. My dad called out after me. My tears made everything blurry as I ran towards the front yard. Something stopped me though. Something snagged my arm. I turned to look at him and the look on his face. Topper. Yesterday, he would’ve calmed me down and alleviated some of the pain, but today, I knew he wanted nothing to do with me. This was an obligation as a human being. Before he could say anything, I pulled my arm away from him and ran.

I drove to the beach and sat down in the sand. The sun was covered by layers of clouds and the wind was almost cold in a way. I sat there and let my emotions get the best of me. I cried and cried for the first time in forever. She never let herself spiral this far. I wondered if this would be a wakeup call or if we had finally reached the point of no return. I hugged my knees to my chest and buried my face in them.

A while later I felt a hand touch my knee. I looked up to see Topper’s worried face in front of me. He held out a new teddy bear to me and didn’t say anything. He just waited to see my reaction. As I looked at his face, I bursted into tears again. I took the bear from him and hugged it against my chest, needing to hold something in that moment. He wrapped his arms around me as I sobbed. The whole time he held me, he said nothing. He knew I just needed someone with me at this moment.

“I never should’ve been born,” I whispered. His arms tightened around me and one of his hands reached up to caress my hair. “This is all my fault.”

“Don’t listen to her, Rory,” he said. I just shook my head against his chest. I shook my head over and over, ignoring everything he said after that. Nothing he said would process until I had calmed down a little more.

After 10 minutes of sobbing and shaking, I finally calmed down a little bit. I took a few deep breaths and squeezed the push toy to my chest. Topper released me from his hold and sat down in front of me. He told me that he was there if I needed someone to listen, but his words from yesterday were still rippling through me. I made myself smaller as he looked at me.

“I’m sorry,” he said. My head shot up at his apology. “I was mad that you felt like you owed Rafe an apology. You had nothing to be sorry about. I-I don’t know why I got so upset.”

I fiddled with my hands as he said that. I couldn’t bring myself to look up at him. He told me to stay away from him. I knew the only reason he was in front of me was because he felt bad for me. He didn’t care about me. It was just human nature to care for those struggling. He cared because I was crying, nothing more and nothing less.

“I’m okay, Topper,” I said. I lifted my head and plastered the same smile onto my face that I always did. “You don’t have to stick around. I’ll be fine.”

“Stop that,” he said. He moved closer to me and observed my face carefully. “Stop thinking about everyone else before yourself. You’re not forcing me to be here Aurora and I’m going to leave until you get that through your head. You don’t have to talk to me, but I’m here, okay?”

We sat there in silence for what seemed like forever. He just sat in front of me, carefully studying my face. I never looked at him though. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I thought that if I ignored him for long enough he would just go away, but he showed absolutely no sign of moving. He wasn’t giving up on me.

“You were right, y’know?” I said. I gave out a pathetic laugh as I stared at the waves crashing against the sand. “I’m a hypocrite. You just stay away from me.”

“Rory-” he started, but I held up my hand to silence him. I wanted him to just listen. I didn’t want him to tell me lies and try to convince me otherwise. I just wanted him to hear me.

“My whole life, I’ve been what everyone else wanted. Even at home I couldn’t be myself... because myself disappointed my mom. Isn’t that sad?” I said. I was smiling as I said it. It was a sad smile. The kind that you have one your face when you know things couldn’t get any worse because nothing else mattered anymore. I pursed my lips together and let out a huge sigh. “Have you heard of postpartum depression? My mom suffered from it. After I was born, my mom got really sad. She couldn’t find a way to love or connect with me, but with the help of my dad she got over it. Things were good for a while, but then she got pregnant with Skip. My dad was away with a nonprofit for most of her pregnancy and he didn’t see how she spiralled, but I did. I was too young to remember it, but that’s when it began. She never got better after Skip. Postpartum turned into bipolar and when she doesn’t take her meds she acts like this and it’s all my fault.”

“Aurora, none of that is your fault,” he said quietly. I turned to look at him, tears in my eyes. His face was contorted in worry as he pulled me into his arms. “None of this is your fault.”

“If my own mom can’t even love who I am, then who else will?” I asked. My voice was barely a whisper, yet he heard every word. I let myself collapse into his chest and his arms tighten around me. No one had ever comforted me like this. No one had ever cared that much. Even my dad was more focused on my mom’s sanity over mine.

“I will,” he muttered softly as he held me. I closed my eyes as he ran his fingers through my hair. How could he love me, when I didn’t even know who I was? That didn’t matter though. I had a feeling that he would help me find who I really was. I needed his help. I needed him.

As much as I told myself that I knew I would never be enough for him, there was no getting rid of him. I knew that I was too attached to the boy to ever let him go. I squeezed your eyes shut and tried to control my emotions, but it would take more than that to feel alright again. I squeezed the bear in my arms and moved away from Topper, looking at him sadly as he let me go.

“I know it’s not Newton, but I thought you might need something new to sleep with at night,” he said and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. I smiled and looked at the bear in my grasp. Somehow he knew exactly what would help me cheer up. The small gesture made my heart swell. “Should we name him?”

“Hm…” I said, smiling a little bit as I thought. “Should I name him Thornton?”

“Don’t name him what you think I would enjoy,” he said, ruffling my hair a little bit. I let out a small giggle as I pushed his hand away. “Start thinking for yourself. What do you want to name him?”

“Larkin,” I said without thinking. He laughed at me, but it was wholesome. I could tell that he loved the way my mind worked. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “So, Rory. If you could do anything in the world right now, what would you want to do?”

I thought for a while as he patiently waited. What would I choose to do? Why couldn’t I think of anything I truly wanted in life? I couldn’t think of one thing I wanted… I just didn’t want to be alone right now. I knew he would stay with me and that meant the world to me.

“I want to stargaze. I love laying underneath the stars and forgetting about the world around me,” I said. A small smile fluttered across my lips as I thought about the night sky. The sun hadn’t barely reached its peak though, so my wish was nearly impossible. He smiled at me and told me to come with him. I stared at him with a confused look as he helped me up and walked towards the parking lot. He seemed really excited, I could figure why though.

It was a short drive to the peer. I got out of the jeep and watched as Topper walked over to buy two tickets for the ferry. I just stared at him as he chatted with the ticket guy. Within a minute he was back by my side, grabbing my wrist and pulling me aboard. I asked him where we were going, but he told me it was a surprise. We sat on the ferry and made casual small talk as the boat headed to its destination. I knew nothing about the area, so everything about this was a shock to me. When we stepped off, we were in Chapel Hill. He pulled me excitedly towards some older buildings. It looked like a college, but I couldn’t tell.

“This is University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill,” he said. He smiled at me as he walked me around the campus. I still couldn’t figure out why we were here, but then we came to a round building. It had no windows and a dome for a roof. Something about it looked familiar. “C,mon.”

He pulled me inside and told me to wait in this lobby looking area. He walked up and talked to the college student at the desk. I watched the excited look on his face and smiled. He looked so cute right now. I pushed that thought from my head and tried to ignore my budding feelings for him, but how could I? He made his way back over to me and grabbed my hand, guiding me inside.

“Welcome to the Morehead Planetarium and Science Center,” he said as we took a seat in the pitch black room. I leaned back and looked up at the ceiling, following Topper’s suit. Then like a beautiful ray of light, the stars twinkled across the ceiling above us. I laid there and stared up, mouth agape as I observed the night sky above me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of them.

“Wow…” I breathed out. I listened to him chuckle as he stared at me. “Do you want to know my favorite thing about the stars?”

“What?” he asked. I could feel his eyes on me and if the lights were on, you would notice how red I was.

“I love that when you look at them, you look into the past,” I said, staring up. I explained how the stars were so far away that they took millions of years for their light to reach our sky. I told him about how many of the stars we see above us had already burnt out, but their image is preserved in our sky. It’s almost as if they keep on living through us. I turned to see his face. His full attention was on me and the smile he gave me said it all. I smiled back at him. He made all of this possible for me. He made me so happy, even in a time that I thought I might never be happy again. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome Aurora.”

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Tag List : @outerbankslut @jellyfishbeansontoast @jiaraendgame @bricksatanakinswindow @outerbongs @maybanksmalfoy @ilovejjmaybank @potterheadhollander @spilledtee @queenieloveswriting @multifandomlovess @starlightstarkey @tomhardybby @diverdcwn @sadcupofcoffee @maybanksbaby @teenagekook​ @kaitieskidmore1 @teenwaywardasgardian

[rambling-rabbit]

My Raven (Vampire Diaries oneshot)

Word Count: 2k

Pairings: Elijah x OC, and then Klaus x OC

AN: I forgot this is based on two songs: One Headlight by The Wallflowers (though I really like The Ready Set’s cover) and Snuff by Slipknot. I went through some stuff in high school lol. And that’s a reminder; I wrote this like 6 years ago. I heavily edited it, but I don’t think it’s a great piece of writing by any means. Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy!! :)

(I also think I wrote another part to this, so if anyone wants that I can dig it up)

So long ago, I don't remember when.

That's when they say I lost my only friend.

"I can't lose you, Elijah!" I yelled after him, black hair whipping around as I frantically tried to catch his face through the trees. He couldn't leave me, not like this. He promised. "Please, don't go." I could hear the vulnerability in my voice, where it hadn't been present in years. I felt sick to my stomach; he shouldn't be able to do this to me. I can’t believe I thought I was getting my happily ever after.

They say she died easy of a broken heart disease,

As I listened, through the cemetery trees.

"I'm sorry, my love. I must," his voice whispered out of the trees and I tried to follow him, but my legs were stuck like cement to the grass. The compulsion wouldn’t even let me sink to the ground to cry. "Our love is forbidden, and you are not safe with me." That didn't stop him from asking me to marry him, though, did it? "Don't fret, I will find you again." The overwhelming freezing sadness I had felt before was leached out of me and suddenly replaced with an anger that shot through my system, burning my blood. All I had done for months was fret about him; his father was out to kill him and he was finally deciding to leave me behind! I clenched my fists at my sides and breathed in slowly.

"Don't lie, 'Lijah!" I yelled out into the void, my voice stronger and clearer than before. "This is our goodbye forever." I could feel the heavy truth of my statement ring throughout the clearing. Sudden soft footsteps sounded somewhere to my right, but I resisted the urge to look at the man who had toyed with my heart for so long. "What are you waiting for? Leave already." My voice held no emotion anymore, even as tears dripped down my cheeks.

"I'm sorry," Elijah said again, sadder this time, and my heart cracked at the ridiculous amount of sincerity I thought I could hear in his voice, "I love you with all of my heart." I resisted an urge to snort, feeling a manic need to start laughing. If he loved me that much, he wouldn’t be doing this, and we both know it. "I give you my word that I will find you again," I gasped in a breath. His word meant everything to him. I immediately crushed the sprout of hope I wanted so badly to let grow in my chest. "Good-bye, my Raven." Then, he was gone, and the world around went black.

I looked up a few minutes later to see a new figure standing at the tree line. I got up mechanically and walked over to him.

"You seem different," he stated, smirking, no doubt having heard my and Elijah's conversation, "I wonder what could have happened?" This bastard, the man I had always thought of as a brother. How could I have been so stupid as to never see the monster inside. Every emotion in me seemed to bubble up all at once, it was overwhelming. I couldn’t focus, it felt like my brain and heart were being ripped out of my body. Closing my eyes, I focused on the absence I had been holding onto before. Meeting his eyes again, I could see he was taken aback at the coldness inside.

"Oh, nothing," I bluffed, turning around and walking away, "Just found a reason to turn off my humanity." I glanced back at him and smirked, the same smirk I had always seen on his face. I had learned from the best.

It always seemed such a waste,

She always had a pretty face.

I wondered why she hung around this place.

I woke up with an immense headache, again. My dream faded fast, but I knew what it meant. I glanced around and noticed my clothes strewn everywhere, but his were nowhere to be found. The shower turned on, and I silently moved into the middle of the floor. That dream could only mean one thing. 'Lijah was searching here. He couldn't find me so easily.

It was my fault he was so close. What was I thinking, crawling back to this bastard again? I sent a look of disgust at the door, even though it was fully directed at myself.

Using vampire speed, I picked up everything and got dressed. The skinny jeans came back on, along with the blue tank top and leather jacket. My sneakers were found in a vase and I had to pause for a moment to wonder when that happened. My nose crinkled as I realized the clothes in my own hotel room would have to stay there for quite a long time if I plan on getting out of this city before Elijah finds out I'm here.

If you love me,

let me go,

and run away before I know.

I could see the entrance to the hotel lobby. Freedom was in sight, mine for the taking. He wouldn't be able to question me on last night and Elijah wouldn't find me. Perfect.

"Hello there, love," his British accent almost made my knees buckle. I tell myself it's because it sounds so much like his brother's.

"What do you want, Klaus?" I asked snottily, trying to be nonchalant and pretend that nothing happened between us only a hand-full of hours ago.

“Why so cold, darling? Once upon a time we were almost siblings.” He gave that smile, the one made of slicing malice that gave a glimpse of the monster hiding inside. Although it seemed strange that he would bring up my previous engagement instead of the previous night, something about Klaus’s demeanor let me know that he’s the reason Elijah found me so quickly.

My heart is just too dark to care.

I can't destroy what isn't there.

“Yes, but unlike Kol or Finn, I don’t like you.” I answered, putting a bland smile on my face as I tried to hide how anxious I was to sprint out the door and never look back.

"Harsh, love." How does he know I love when he calls me that? I flinch inward at my own thoughts; now is not the time to get distracted. There isn’t anything to love about Klaus. He's a monster, murderer, and there's not a scrap of humanity in him! "I just came to say good-bye, Raven, since you seemed to have forgotten." I held my breath when he paused, watching that stupid smirk creep across his face. "But, about last night -"

"No!" My face heated at the thought of where that sentence was going, and I frantically glanced around, glad I hadn’t attracted too many stares. "It was a moment of weakness and it shouldn't have happened." Images from last night zoomed through my brain and I was incredibly glad that vampires couldn’t blush. 

"Now, see, I would believe you," Klaus took a few steps closer until I had to look up at him, "if this was the first time." He paused to see if I would interrupt, his dark eyes searching mine, but I wasn't entirely sure what to say. "May I remind you of just a few months ago when we didn't leave my room for three days except to hunt? Or how about New Years?" he was talking low so no one around would hear, but my advanced ears heard everything perfectly. He brought up some fair points, but I could never let him know what those nights meant to me. I laced my fingers behind my back so he wouldn’t see them shaking as I focused on breathing evenly. "And let me just say, the best was probably the night Elijah left you." Klaus's voice turned even colder than mine had been. The blood drained from my face and my mouth went dry. He had no right to bring that up. The worst night of my life played in my mind over and over again, bringing back the pain and the heartbreak that made me turn my emotions off in the first place.

I went to finally say something--what, exactly, I wasn’t sure--but this time he shushed me. "Just, give in and be happy. That's all I want from you, Raven. Be happy." He coaxed. There was an odd sort of tone in his voice; I would call it sadness, except Klaus was incapable of such a human emotion. "Don't keep running away every time we meet up." My breath went shaky as I thought about it. Being with him was as natural as breathing, even as he set my blood on fire and everything in me screamed to hold on tight and never let him go.

Klaus, the beautiful and blonde vampire, who could massacre a village and then turn and look into my soul with such softness it hurt. Why was it so hard to say no all of a sudden? It wasn't compulsion, but that was the only explanation for why I hadn't run away already. He was the reason my life ended, the reason I don’t have anyone to care for. He doesn’t deserve any compassion, not after everything he’s done. I shouldn’t want to lean in and press our lips together, order him to take me back to his room. I should care that Elijah is here, searching for me, and for the life we never got to have together. My head is spinning, and that wave of emotion I pushed away so long ago threatens to pull me under again.

If you still care,

don't ever let me know.

"I can't." The words sounded forced and weak, even to me. I clear my throat and look into his crystal blue eyes. "I can't." This time it comes out more firmly, and I can see a dash of hurt behind his usual facade. "Elijah was my true love.” The lies tumble from my lips, but I find strength in their falsehood. “Anything with you was done because of weakness and because I was emotionally unstable. Goodbye, Klaus." I pick up my bag and start walking away with my head held high. After all, I learned from the best.

We'll run until she's out of breath.

She ran until there's nothing left.

She hit the end,

it's just her window ledge.

Klaus sped in front of me and stared into my unemotional brown eyes. I could see the panic on his face for that split second, as if he really didn't want me to go. There was a world of words he was conveying, all too much for me to comprehend. Then, his features flattened, he stepped aside, and I walked out, trying not to show how surprised I was that Klaus let me see past his wall of emotional protection, even if it was only for a moment.

The second I was outside, tears started streaming silently down my face. I loved Klaus, almost always had. Ever since the night 'Lijah left, when he tried to help me pick up the pieces. I’ve pretended to forget how his actions affected me that night, but it was the first time I had felt alive since becoming a vampire. I thought my love for him was like a brother until that night, when I found out that my love for Klaus was so intense it scared me.

We wouldn't ever work, though. I sniffled and wiped my eyes as I stood against the wall outside the hotel. It would never work out. He was only after me as an ally. At least, that's what I keep telling myself. He was all for the kill and the power. How do I know he won't just kill me when I'm no longer useful? I can't trust him. My excuses feel weak, but they’re all I have.

Not bothering to glance around, I take off, already picking my next destination and leaving all of my problems behind.

If you still care, don't ever let me know...