#then just says bye and leaves without ever leaving any kind of tip and im just over there running around doing my job and shes jsut like

[4kominato]

Part II: Let Me Love You

[[ Part I ]]

A/N: hi friends! im back with a little surprise hehe 😬 i really wanted to do a continuation of this one since yknowww kazutora is my fav and im a hopeless romantic... i just couldnt leave it as a one night stand 🤧

@yukihime-mikeys-girl if youre still around!! 🫰🏻

Pairing: Hanemiya Kazutora x F!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff(ish towards the end), Smut - SEXUAL CONTENT

[[ WARNING ]] contains Tokyo Revengers season 1 spoilers

Word Count: 4.3k

The bell on the front door jingled as you pulled it open, allowing yourself into the familiar pet shop run by none other than your bestie, Chifuyu, who rudely failed to greet you upon your entry.

“Not gonna say ‘hi’ or anything?” you snapped as you walked up to the register where Chifuyu was tidying up and preparing to close the shop.

“Hi,” he responded sarcastically to your snarky comment, not even glancing up at you as he continued on with what he was doing.

“Brat,” you jeered before moving on, “Where’s Tora?”

“Beats me.”

“Damn, are you salty today or what?” you remarked with a scoff. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just… so annoying. Why is it him? He didn’t do anything special, but the girls are always swooning over him… What about me?” he pouted with a slight tinge of pink tinting his cheeks and tips of his ears.

“What girls are you even talking about? Me?”

“And literally all the cute female customers…”

“Aw, Chifuyu. You’re cute too, just a bit soft is all,” you teased, poking his cheek to which he smacked your hand away. “It’s not like I’m dating Kazutora anyways. You don’t need to make a big deal out of it.”

“Yeah, but… at least he’s getting some…”

“Hm, but you’ve always struck me as a more of a relationship kind of guy. If you really want, I’m sure I can find a friend who’d be down to hook up with you.”

“That’s cheating if you set me up...”

“Fine. Have it your way. But seriously, where’s Tora? My dick appointment is late.”

“Ugh,” Chifuyu huffed with a disgruntled groan before making his way to the back of the shop where the staff room was. “Kazutora, your fuck buddy is here!” he yelled almost too loudly considering the shop was still open… At least there weren’t any customers.

“Geez! Why are you yelling something like that?!” Kazutora replied, obviously flustered when the two of them emerged from the back.

“You should be grateful you have a fuck buddy y’know,” Chifuyu snapped back.

“I never said I wasn’t?” He shook his head in disbelief, pinching the bridge of his nose as he walked up to you, “What’s up with him today?”

“I think he’s on his man-period. While you were in the back, he was bitching to me about not getting any. Maybe we should invite him for a threesome next time,” you chuckled.

“Yeah, no…” Kazutora grimaced at the idea and quickly urged you out of the shop. “Kay bye, Chifuyu! See you tomorrow,” he waved as the two of you walked briskly to your car and hopped in. “I think… he might be jealous of me actually. He was talking to me earlier about how he’s had a crush on you ever since he met you. Did you know?”

“Yeah,” you answered without further elaboration, focusing rather on starting the car and heading over to Kazutora’s apartment.

“And…?” he prodded, unsatisfied with your answer.

“And… he’s not my type…” you admitted with a shrug. “That’s why we’re just friends.”

“Oh…” was all he managed to say, leaving the rest of the car ride silent. He didn’t really know what he was expecting you to say, but he expected a little more than that. It made him think more about how you’d approached him at the New Year’s party a few months before. You were pretty aggressive in your advances with him so does that mean… he’s your type?

Once you’d parked the car, the silence continued as the two of you made your way up to Kazutora’s unit, though, the lack of conversation didn't really bother you since your only goal at the moment was getting some dick. The moment Kazutora opened the door, you wasted no time swiftly guiding him over to the couch where you straddled his lap. Your arms encircled his neck, and without hesitation, you crashed your lips against his, smoothly sliding your tongue into his mouth. Although he was reciprocating physically with his hands running up and down your thighs, and his lips and tongue moving in sync with yours, mentally, you sensed he wasn’t fully into it given his efforts were ever so subtly lacking compared to your usual sessions.

“Are you okay? Is something wrong?” you asked worriedly as you sharply pulled away from him.

“U-uh… Yeah, I’m fine,” Kazutora replied nervously, cupping your cheek in his hand and trying to pull you back into a kiss, but you resisted.

“Don’t lie… I can tell you’re not fully into it and you've been all weird since the car ride.”

He let out a defeated sigh, knowing he’d been found out and there’s no way you’d be letting him off the hook now, so reluctantly, he answered.

“It’s just… you mentioned earlier that Chifuyu isn’t your type… but you seemed so determined to talk to me at the party. So I was just thinking…” he trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence out of embarrassment.

“That you’re my type?” you suggested.

“Uh… well…” he chuckled nervously, a tinge of pink tinting his cheeks and ears as his eyes fell to the floor. “Yeah…”

“Well, duh,” you scoffed, “I thought that was the first thing I expressed to you that night at the party.”

“Yeah, but… why? I just can’t understand…” he vented quietly, “Chifuyu is so much better than me… And if not him, there are so many other cool guys in Toman too, so… why me?”

“Well, if you’re going down that road…” you started, pausing for a moment before elaborating. “There is someone else in Toman I used to like. We met in high school and we used to hang out all the time. I’d always help him study, and then we’d go get taiyaki after… and sometimes if I was lucky, he’d take me for night rides on his bike…”

“Mikey…” Kazutora muttered under his breath, remembering how you’d told him Mikey was your high school classmate when you had introduced yourself.

“Yep,” you answered with a half hearted smile, “He introduced me to some of the Toman guys, mostly the captains and vice captains. That’s how I got to be friends with Chifuyu.”

“So what happened with Mikey?” he inquired further.

“He rejected me,” you answered bluntly. “That was hm… I don’t know, maybe a little less than a year before that party. It took a few months or so for me to get back on my feet because that rejection really hurt. And then after that, I went through a ‘hoe phase…’ I did actually consider sleeping with Chifuyu during that time but… I'd figured out he had feelings for me so, y'know, didn’t wanna lead him on and hurt the poor guy. It wasn’t until a month-ish before the party that I fully recovered from the heartbreak… and then I met you.”

“But we’re only hooking up… if you’re looking for something serious then why not go for Chifuyu? You said you’re over Mikey now, aren't you?”

“I get where you’re going with this, but I really don’t think I’m meant to be with Chifuyu,” you insisted, brows furrowing in frustration. “Call me dumb if you want. I don’t give a shit, but to me, it feels like fate brought us together, whether we're exclusive or not. I just don’t think it was a crazy coincidence that you walked into my life the very moment I was ready to move on.”

“Hate to break it to you, but I think you’re gravely mistaken,” Kazutora scoffed almost passive aggressively, “Are you forgetting I rejected your relationship proposal? We won’t be anything more than fuck buddies if I don’t allow it. I’m telling you now, if a relationship is what you’re looking for, then Chifuyu’s your guy, not me. Trust me, he’s better for you.”

“Why do you keep saying things like that? You can’t decide who’s better or worse for me. I’ll decide that for myself!”

“Kinda hard for you to judge that when you don’t even know shit about me,” he sassed, making your blood boil.

“Then why don’t you tell me more about yourself, dammit!” you lashed out now on the verge of tears as you furiously clenched the collar of his shirt, “I want to know more about you, but you won’t tell me a damn thing! How the hell would you know how I’ll feel when you tell me everything? You’re just making assumptions and putting your own words in my fucking mouth!”

“You don’t get it because you don’t know!” he snapped back, “Anyone in their right state of mind would hate me if they knew.”

“Well maybe I’m fucking insane then! No matter what excuses you come up with, you still can’t decide for me how I feel about you! After all this time, I–I’ve grown to love you so much, Kazutora, you don’t even understand…” Your voice trailed off into a fit of sobs as you finally released his shirt, your arms falling limp while your head fell forward onto his shoulder.

As much as he wanted to comfort you, he couldn’t. Not knowing he was hiding such a dark secret from you. How could he bear to touch and hold someone as precious as you in his filthy, bloodied hands? He wanted to be selfish and keep you for himself while running away from the shadow that loomed over him. He thought that maybe if he just kept running with his eyes closed and never looked back, then it’d go away… maybe. But at the same time, another part of him knew it was never going away and his ignorance of the subject was unfair to you and would only hurt you in the end; if anyone deserved to know, it was you, whether he liked the outcome or not.

“Thank you… for loving me, but falling for me was a huge mistake…” he replied dully, his aura becoming suddenly cold and lifeless. “The person who killed Baji and Shinichiro… was me.”

Amidst your little sobs and sniffles, you couldn’t help but gasp in shock at what you’d just heard. It resurfaced a memory of a conversation you’d had with Mikey way back when, during one of your night bike rides with him:

“Y’know the guy I mentioned who killed Shinichiro? The same guy killed Baji too. I’ve forgiven him in my head, but in my heart… it’s still hard for me to accept. It’s not like forgiveness can bring either of them back, y’know?”

It was Kazutora, you thought to yourself as you sat still, cries finally ceasing though tears continued to fall. There was no ill intent in your reaction, but for Kazutora, the silence was so piercing that he just couldn’t bare it.

“See, I told you,” he retorted, carefully untangling himself from you in preparation for his escape. “No one would love a murderer. Just leave.”

The moment he stood up from the couch and started storming off to his bedroom, your body moved on its own, shooting up in an instant to chase after him, and thankfully you caught him in the doorway just before he could lock himself in.

“Why?” you whined, tears streaming down your face once more as you held tightly onto his waist, your head pressed firmly against his back. “Why do you keep making your own assumptions?” You waited for an answer, but there was nothing. He only stood there slumped in defeat, so you continued on with your monologue, “I get that it’s hard to tell people about something like that. I get that it’s hard to live with a burden that heavy. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t shocked, but that doesn’t do anything to change how I already feel about you. Yes, maybe you did something horrible in the past, but people aren’t stagnant. People can change over time, and the Kazutora I fell for in the present isn't the same Kazutora from the past. The Kazutora I fell for is caring and loving and fun to be around and I can’t imagine a life without him. Please don’t let your past hold you down and stop you from living the life you want to live…”

“But…” he started, voice cracking as his breath hitched in his throat, “I-I don’t even deserve to live… why should I live how I want?” Holding a hand up to his face he began to sob, his unsteady figure slipping through your arms as he sank to the floor. “I stole not one, but two innocent lives… I… should be dead…”

Kneeling down next to him, you hugged him from the side, even tighter than you had earlier and spoke softly against his neck, “I’m not saying you can’t feel guilty or to forget what happened, but even if you do feel that way, you still have to move forward. If you keep sitting around sulking and dwelling on something you can’t change, then you’ll just be in the same spot forever. Everything in life has a lesson to be learned and even in the worst situations, you have to find what that is so that you can grow and improve in the future. You can’t keep hating and reprimanding yourself forever. I think you’ve already taken a lot of time feeling sorry; now it’s time for you to start doing something about it.”

Though he’d heard every word you said, he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge you in his overly emotional state. Gently, you tucked some of the blond strands that hung over his face behind his ear, revealing his glossy, reddened eyes and a steady stream of tears rolling down his pale cheeks. Leaning in, you placed a chaste peck to his lips, then pressed your forehead against his. “I know you’ve been struggling to love and accept yourself and it’s understandable given your situation. But since you can’t right now, then please let me. More than anything, I want to embark on this journey with you and help you as much as I can, every step of the way.”

Still, you received no verbal acknowledgement, but rather he responded through actions, breaking out of your embrace so that he could hold you in his arms instead. He held you so tightly it felt like he was afraid you’d slip away if he loosened his grip even a tiniest bit; it was the most affectionate gesture he’d ever expressed toward you in the past few months since you’d been hooking up and it really just made your heart melt.

“Thank you,” he finally muttered against your neck once his breaths steadied to occasional little sniffles after recovering from his emotional breakdown, “Thank you for always being there for me.”

“You don't need to thank me,” you nearly whispered whilst shaking your head at him. Cupping his face in your hands once more, you wiped the remnants of his tears with your thumbs before continuing, “Just make me yours, please.”

Slowly leaning in, you sealed your words with a kiss, hoping to relay to him just how strongly you felt about him… in more ways than one. Butterflies filled your stomach when you felt him reciprocate, and as his movements synchronized with yours, your hands glided gracefully from his cheeks down the sides of his neck to rest on his shoulders to pave a path for your lips to follow. They drifted first to the side of his mouth, then slowly they trailed along his cheek to his jaw, then along the length of his neck. The soft hums elicited in the process were confirmation enough that he wanted this just as much as you did and you could proceed further, so your fingers found the buttons of his dress shirt and made quick work of them to finally expose his toned abdomen.

“So… we doing it on the floor, or?” Kazutora questioned half joking as you slid the garment off his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground.

“Mm, that’s kinky,” you teased in response, “If you want to then I don’t mind.”

Instead, he guided your legs around his waist, supporting beneath your thighs before standing up from the ground and carrying you over to his bed, carefully laying you down atop his fluffy comforter. “You’ll be more comfortable on my bed. The floor is too hard,” he stated firmly with no sign of uncertainty at all in his tone.

“Wow, such a gentleman—” you barely finished complimenting when he captured your lips once more and hastily began to undress you. You could see the lust growing in his eyes with each garment he discarded, and soon enough, he had you stripped down to just your panties. He bit his lip as hooked his fingers in the waistband and pulled the drenched, skimpy material down your hips, then thighs, leaving behind glistening threads of your arousal along your inner thighs in the process before he finally slid them clean off your ankles and chucked them to the floor.

“Goddamn…” he gawked at how wet you were for him, the sight sending a surge of blood rushing downward. He was so mesmerized that he couldn’t resist swatching a sample with his middle finger to grant himself a little taste prior to the full course.

“I’ve been sooo pent up, baby,” you whined in a baby voice as to rationalize why you were so turned on; this was the first time he’d ever seen you horny to such an extreme extent. “That’s why I was complaining to Chifuyu about my dick appointment being late.”

“I’m so sorry I kept you waiting,” he barely made out before delving down between your legs, his soft lips encircling your swollen, touch-starved clit whilst he slid two of his slim digits into your warmth.

“Mm, Tora. It feels so good,” you moaned, knowing well that he loved being acknowledged and praised during his performances.

After months of helping him and teaching him just how you liked things, you could confirm via the spine tingling stimulation of your g-spot on top of the perfect combination of sucking, tongue flicking and swirling against your clit that he’d mastered the art of going down on you. It was almost disappointing how quickly he had your toes curling and back arching, already on the verge of release; you hated for this bliss to end so soon. Ultimately however, you succumbed, your fingers finding Kazutora���s smoothly pulled back hair and unintentionally disheveling it with the height of your high inflicting an unbearable pleasure that initiated from your core and coursed through your entire body.

He licked his lips as he sat up from his position between your legs, simultaneously ripping off his hair tie and letting his luscious blond and black locks fall over his shoulders before proceeding to undo his pants. You observed him intently as the outline of his erection came into view through his thin, dark briefs, and despite having come literally just minutes ago, the void between your legs was aching with desire and frankly, Kazutora was taking way too long to undress for your liking.

“Tora…” you grumbled, sitting up and reaching forward to stroke his still confined member, “Why are you going so freakin’ slow?”

Chuckling at your desperation, he patted the top of your head as he answered, “To tease you.” You only pouted at him in response, earning another giggle from him before he tugged at the waistband of his boxers and fina-fucking-ly revealed his beautifully hard cock with precum oozing from the tip. You’d barely even given him a chance to fully strip down when you encompassed his shaft with your hand and started stroking him like there was no tomorrow.

“Jesus!” Kazutora winced at the sudden intense stimulation and grabbed you by the wrist, “You’re gonna rip my dick off.”

“Shut up,” you snapped back playfully, but still you slowed your pace for him not wanting him to come yet anyways. “I’ve been waiting for so long now and you still haven’t fucked me. I poured my heart out to you and confessed my love and I’ve gotten nothing in return,” you recited in a dramatic manner, to which he rolled his eyes at you.

“Don’t act like I didn’t tell you something significant too.”

“Oh, you definitely did, but there’s something even more important I was hoping to hear from you,” you stated expectantly, taking a break from pumping him to instead wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down on top of you. Staring deeply into his glowing yellow orbs, you could see his gears turning, trying to figure out what it was you were expecting of him when something seemed to click.

“I love you, too…?” he answered like a question which forced a laugh out of you.

“Pft, I don’t know. Do you?” you jested.

“I do!” he replied defensively, “I just wasn’t sure if that’s what you wanted since I didn’t say it earlier…”

“Say it again like you mean it,” you demanded whilst squishing his cheeks with your palms.

“I wub you!” he enunciated as much as he could with his cheeks being squished, which wasn’t much but it sure was cute.

“I love you, too,” you giggled and pulled him into a quick kiss, your arms retaking their place around his neck. “Now hurry up and fuck me. I’ve been waiting this whole time.”

“Hey now, we’re not fuck buddies anymore,” he disputed as he shifted to position himself to your entrance. “When there’s feelings involved, they call it ‘love-making,’ Right?”

You knew he was being somewhat serious, but somehow, the fact that he’d made such a clear distinction was actually the most adorable thing ever and you had to hold back your urge to laugh at him. “Yes, you’re right, I’m sorry, Tora. Would you please do the honors of making love to me?”

The little smile that tugged at corners of his lips in response absolutely warmed your heart… for only a short-lived moment that was abruptly interrupted by the feeling of his whole length filling you up to the brim.

“Better?” Kazutora asked breathily as he wrapped your legs around his waist and rocked his hips in a slow steady rhythm, observing your reactions to gauge if he was doing a good job.

“Much,” you sighed in relief, having been deprived for what felt like forever. You weren’t really sure why, but he felt a bajillion times better today than he ever did; maybe it was the anticipation, maybe it was because you were a couple now, or maybe it was both, who knows? But what you did know was that as he picked up his pace, the feeling of him hitting glorious depths within your core made you feel like you were ascending into heaven.

“Shit,” Kazutora mumbled under his breath as he started to slow down, “I’m already getting close, I’m sorry. I thought my stamina was getting better, but I guess not.”

“Love making is different than fucking, isn’t it?” you interjected, gently caressing his cheek with the back of your fingers. “Feels so much better, right? It does for me too.” you assured. “Keep going. I won’t last much longer either.”

“Okay,” he agreed  and complied immediately, his slowed thrusting becoming erratic in the blink of an eye and in no time at all you could feel your whole lower region tingling, teetering toward the brink of climax.

“Ah, Tora!” you moaned at the feeling of your body slowly falling victim to the inevitable euphoria that awaited you despite your efforts to delay it. You managed to hold out for maybe five more seconds before you were enraptured, the breath-taking sensation making you writhe beneath him while your tender walls pulsated around his girth, enticing him to come undone with you.

In your final moments of ecstasy, he finally followed suit, the throaty groan along with the feeling of his warm essence spilling out deep within your core being indicative of that. You let out a heavy, but satisfied sigh as Kazutora took his last few strokes and withdrew himself, his thick seed slowly seeping out of you while he rushed to grab tissues from his desk to clean you up. He took his time tidying up both you and himself, and also making sure he didn’t miss any spots that may have dripped onto the comforter, but the moment he tossed the last dirty tissue into the trash bin he rejoined you in bed and snuggled up close to you without saying a word.

“Hey, Tora,” you decided to break the silence after he’d made himself comfortable.

“Hm?” he mumbled against you, not moving even an inch to converse properly with you, not that you minded though.

“Y’know Chifuyu is gonna be pissed about this, right?”

“Ugh,” he groaned, pulling you closer to him before continuing, “Let’s not talk about him right now…”

Epilogue

“Hey Chifuyu, guess what?” you blurted out spontaneously as he and Kazutora closed up the shop.

“You’re pregnant,” he answered dryly and carried on with what he was doing without batting an eye.

“The fuck?!” Kazutora responded with wide eyes, bewildered by Chifuyu’s drastic guess.

“Uh… I mean I suppose that’s possible, but no, not what I was gonna say…” you chuckled nervously. “Kazutora and I are d–”

“Congratulations,” Chifuyu interrupted aggressively before you could finish, and next thing you knew, he was grabbing his stuff and booking it to the door. “See you tomorrow, Kazutora.” And with that he was gone, leaving Kazutora to finish the rest of the closing duties.

Kazutora facepalmed with a sigh at how things went down, though he wasn’t at all surprised. “You were definitely too blunt. He’s gonna be so petty to me tomorrow…” he griped as he wrapped up his sweeping and put the broom back in the closet.

“He cut me off so I didn’t even say it technically…” you argued back defensively. “We need to find him a girlfriend…”

“Definitely.”

[cuz-reasons]

Me: While I personally have no problem with masks, I can understand why others may have issues breathing while wearing them for extended periods of time as it is an extra layer covering your breathing holes and I dont want to be disrespectful of that

Customer at work after waiting about 3 mins tops as I make her two drinks: I'm going to step outside for a moment since it's hard for me to wear a masks for longer than 5 mins

Me, about to put the straws in her drinks, internally: if I can wear a mask and run around in this hot cafe for 4 hours you can wear yours for one more second without being a baby about it

[aimeelouart]

I’m stress writing again, but this time I got a little distracted from 7C9S.

From @im-totally-not-an-alien ‘s  Final Fantasy 7 prompts # 45:

8. Time traveler Cloud casually curing Angeal and Genesis's degradation with vials of Aeriths holy water.

He feels betrayed when they try to drag him to Shinra, despite their benevolent intentions.

“Hey, Asshole!” - 1368 words, pairings open to interpretation

“Hey, asshole!”

Genesis turned instinctively at the shout, Angeal pausing along with him. Verbal abuse from the public wasn’t exactly unknown to him⁠—no one with significant notoriety will ever be without their detractors, deserved or not⁠—but he was a little startled to have someone shouting at him so brazenly, in broad daylight, in one of the more affluent sectors, while he and Angeal made their way back to the Tower after having lunch.

He opened his mouth to respond, zeroing in on an approaching blond man. A very quickly approaching blond man. “Wh⁠—”

Genesis never had a chance to finish the question. With the speed only an enhanced person can have, the blond seized a fistful of his hair, yanked his head back, and poured a small vial of water into his mouth. He swallowed out of sheer surprise.

Angeal made an alarmed noise, immediately lashing out to get the blond off of Genesis, and was deftly flipped into a headlock for his troubles. Genesis was still regaining his balance as the blond man tipped a second vial down Angeal’s throat.

Then the man unceremoniously released him and left.

The whole thing had taken place in the span of maybe ten seconds. Angeal touched a hand to his mouth as he straightened, bewildered. Genesis ran his tongue over his teeth. If there had been anything but water in that vial, he would have been able to taste it. But why in the Goddess’s name would someone assault two SOLDIERs to…, what, hydrate them? Why would someone enhanced⁠—

Someone enhanced.

Genesis looked at Angeal. Angeal looked back. Without a single word, they both took off after the blond man. 

He’d managed to get a fair distance away, but he also seemed fairly unconcerned with any kind of escape. He was just... leaving. Fortunately for them, his shock of bright gold hair was unmistakable (and about as ridiculous as the wild mane of Angeal’s student, thought Genesis).

“Excuse me!” Angeal called, his tone somewhere between bewildered and angry. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Genesis was a little surprised when the blond man actually turned toward them, even if he did keep walking backward. He had a preternatural ability to dodge oncoming pedestrians without actually looking back. “What?” asked the man, seeming genuinely shocked to be questioned in such a way. “I’m solving problems before they escalate. Can’t you feel the difference?”

Then he pointed to Genesis’s shoulder⁠—the shoulder that wasn’t healing, which he hadn’t told anyone about yet, though he had decided to go to Hollander tomorrow. The Commander barely kept himself from bristling defensively, which was absurd because how could this random whelp off the street know something he’d never even told Ange⁠—

Wait. 

His shoulder.

His shoulder. 

It wasn’t hurting. One hand shot up to grab it while the other gripped Angeal’s bicep, just for something to anchor him as he reeled in shock. Had the little blond actually healed him? How? It was impossible for some stranger to even have known there was a problem, much less how to solve it!

The blond cracked a grin, apparently following Genesis’s train of thought perfectly. “Yeah, see? ‘S all good now. Bye.” Then he offered a sloppy two-finger salute and turned back around, apparently intent on continuing his departure to parts unknown.

Genesis dropped his hands and closed the distance in three long strides, seizing the blond’s arm without a thought. “My friend, do you fly away now?” he quoted breathlessly. It wasn’t quite the proper context, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He needed the man to come with him, back to ShinRa, just so he would have enough time to wrap his head around the whole thing and offer an appropriate response. “Please, hold for a moment, stranger.”

“Genesis?” Angeal asked cautiously. 

But the blond frowned at him, slowing to a stop. The crowd flowed around them like a river around and boulder, though the three hardly paid them any mind. “Why? Take it and go. I’ve got important things to do.” This close, Genesis could see the gleaming mako blue of the man⁠’s eyes. There were even unmistakable strands of green threading his limbal ring.

“I don’t recognize you, but you must be a SOLDIER,” Genesis said contemplatively, keeping his grip firm. “Who are you? What rank? I suppose you must be one of the ones who are overly fond of those ridiculous helmets.”

The blond looked at him strangely, and as Genesis became less distracted he started to notice how wild and unkempt the man looked: dirt-smudged, hazy-eyed, and standing still Genesis could pick up the faint tang of blood, both dried and fresh. Honestly, he looked like he’d just returned to Midgar from a month-long solo extermination mission in the wilderness. The circles beneath his eyes were deep and dark. 

“I’m not a SOLDIER,” the blond said, as if such a suggestion was absurd on its face.

Genesis frowned at him. “There’s no use in lying, dear. I can see the mako in your eyes. I know my reputation likely precedes me, but I swear to you I’m not angry. I don’t know how you...well, suffice it to say, you have nothing to fear from me.”

Angeal shot Genesis a very pointed look⁠—the one that said we’re going to be talking about this later⁠—but he turned his attention on the blond and seemed to see exactly what Genesis did. “Are you alright, SOLDIER?” he asked, putting his hand on the arm opposite to the one Genesis was still holding. “You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”

The blond blinked slowly, glancing down at the hand on his arm. He seemed to know exactly what Genesis did: that it was there both as reassurance and in preparation for restraint. He was certainly a SOLDIER if he knew Angeal that well, most likely one of the SOLDIERs in Angeal’s section.

“Oh,” he said after a second’s delay, sounding oddly surprised. “Sleep. I knew I was forgetting something.”

Genesis and Angeal exchanged another glance. “Ooookay,” said Angeal, drawing the word out. “I’m still not entirely sure what’s happening here, but why don’t we all go back to the Tower and get you seen to?”

“No thanks,” said the blond. “Let me go, please. I’m busy.”

How precious. He thought they were going to let it slide.

Genesis smiled charmingly. Anyone who worked with him for any length of time knew to be afraid of that smile. It meant, quite plainly, that Genesis had decided on something and there was not a thing anyone could do to dissuade him. “I’m sure you are, dear, but believe me when I say that you’ll feel much more capable once you’ve had a chance to rest. Why, you may even accomplish your...tasks...more efficiently!”

With Angeal’s help, he started to drag the squirming man back toward the Tower. SOLDIER strength or not, it turns out to be quite difficult to run away when your feet aren’t touching the ground. Who knew?

“Put me down!” the man demanded, though he sounded far more offended than truly angry. “I’m busy, you assholes!”

“Of course,” Genesis agreed pleasantly, his grip like iron. The man was very sturdy for someone of his stature and build, but keeping him from getting any leverage to squirm free took only a fraction of the Commander’s strength. He really was quite small. Come to think of it, Genesis didn’t know of any SOLDIERs who were quite so...fun sized. “We won’t take up much of your time, I promise.”

“This is what I get for doing Zack a favor,” the blond muttered irritably. Angeal shot him a sharp look. Genesis made a mental note. One of the puppy’s many friends, perhaps? But a favor? How had Zack known? Had Zack known?

Genesis shook his head to dismiss the thoughts for now. He didn’t care if he had to let the mysterious blond crash on his couch and use his personal shower. Hell, he didn’t care if the had to cook the man a meal himself⁠—one way or another, Genesis wasn’t letting the man who’d miraculously healed him out of his sight until he got answers.

[sunrisespidey]

ceo!tom

pairing: tom holland x reader

summary: ceo!tom falls in love with smoothie-loving intern, y/n

word count: 5.9k im sorry 

a/n: i’m literally never writing shit like this again wtf?? the ending is so rushed and i’m rlly sorry but i got so bored of this i just wanted it out and done with. it was 14 pages on google docs bye 

it’s a different style that i usually write in, but i wanted to branch out so idk let me know what you thought about it?

PLEASE DON’T LET THIS FLOP! I WORKED ON THIS FOR LIKE A WEEK

warnings: swearing, long read, and unedited

masterlist ♡

Y/N’s made a mistake.

Or at least, that’s what she thinks, staring up at the daunting skyscraper that towered before her, with the large Holland and Co. sign glinting under the bright glare of the sun. How had she ended up here? Her, a struggling college student, and yet here she was, interning at one of the biggest business firms in England. It really didn’t add up. It’s all been a blur. She remembers getting the phone call, being told to arrive at, and she quotes, “7AM on the dot, tardiness will not be tolerated”, and it’s almost as though she’s reliving high school all over again, only this time around, her future is actually on the line.

Which is probably why she’d dragged herself out of bed at 4 in the morning, and then proceeded to spend an hour pep talking herself in the mirror. Was it too late to back out now?  She figures if she turns back and leaves, she can probably make it back to her apartment in 20 minutes flat, and then she can call in faking an illness or whatnot. After that, she can stay in, snuggled up to her cat, Dusty, and stay curled up in front of her tv with a warm mug of hot cocoa in her hands and an episode of The Office playing quietly in the background. (This, she decides, smiling internally, is her ideal day.) She’s almost ready to give in, leaning back to book it, the idea of leaving almost too enticing. Instead, she finds herself placing one foot in front of the other. Y/N doesn’t even know what motivates her to take that step forward, the step that began to lead her to those terrifying glass doors, but she’s managed to take a second step, then a third, a fourth, and—

A rush of warmth surrounds her, sending a shiver through her body, and she immediately misses the cold outdoor winds that previously nipped at her ears. Y/N doesn’t think she’s ever wanted to venture back out into the cold winter as much as she does at this moment. Her eyes stay trained on the ground, and she dreads the moment she’ll have to inevitably look up, so she doesn’t. Instead, she studies the marble floors (they’re really nice, she should consider investing in something similar, she thinks), until she hears a voice, practically coated with sugar, pipe up.

“Excuse me, Miss?” Her head whips up, swallowing nervously, and she’s greeted by a lady who looks to be in her mid-twenties with a sickly sweet smile plastered on her face (fake, no doubt, but really, who was she to judge?), head tilted in concern. “Are you lost?”

She considers saying no just to turn back around rather than face the fire, but she steels her nerves and sends her an abashed smile. “Yeah, I am. Would you mind helping me?” And Y/N nearly cringes at her attempts to be polite but continues anyways. “I’m an intern, Y/N Y/L/N?”

She isn’t really listening when the receptionist lady answers, and she knows she should’ve, but she listens to the lady drone on, the same smile that didn’t seem to reach her eyes glued to her face, and Y/N wonders what kind of toothpaste she uses to whiten. Somehow, Y/N finds herself being whisked away and up into the elevator, where she finally starts paying attention long enough to meet a kind woman who she remembers is named Nadine and would be her shadow for her time at Holland and Co.

She listens attentively (or at least she tries), as Nadine gives her a tour of the floor, and she can’t help but wish that she brought along a strawberry smoothie. She ends up so lost in thought that she nearly stumbles into Nadine after she stops abruptly, and Y/N peeks around her to see what’s happened. She’s startled when the noise reaches her ears, and she realizes that it’s a grown man backing away slowly from an office, pleading for someone to rethink their decision.

“Please, Mr. Holland, I’ll do better next time, please—” Y/N hears the slam before she sees it, yelping quietly at the shock of it, the noise still reverberating through the office. Her eyes blow wide, mouth gaping. She hopes she never comes in contact with this Mr. Holland.

Y/N finds that the tour ends quickly after that.

-

It’s not that Tom’s a cruel person.

He doesn’t jerk off to the thought of firing employees — he’s most certainly not a masochist — it’s just that he works with absolute morons. So really, what’s he supposed to do when some twat from accounting screws up some simple numbers that cost his company 10,000 pounds? (it’s not like his company can’t afford it, but the thought still makes a scowl form on his face) The only reasonable choice he can make is to fire the man, and it certainly isn’t his fault if the twit stumbles out of his office blubbering about how he’ll do better. And it definitely isn’t his fault if a cute, smoothie-loving intern witnesses the whole thing, because why does it matter if a bloody intern is afraid of him? (at least, that’s what he tries to convince himself)

(spoiler alert: it doesn’t work)

-

It’s day two, and Y/N thinks she’s made some friends.

She’s promised to bring each of them a smoothie (“They’re the light of my life,” she’d said, “can’t live without ‘em.”), which explains why she’s currently juggling four smoothies, one for herself and each of her new friends and, Sarah, Jacqueline, and Mike, while arriving at work at 6:50 in the morning. She’s so focused on carrying the drinks, eyeing each one with a careful precision that she fails to see the man donning a crisp suit (expensive. Gucci, maybe?), and a stern expression on his face, walking in front of her. She doesn’t realize that he’s been eyeing her the entire time, face softened into an unusual smile, rarely seen around the office. And she definitely doesn’t notice when he stops walking — at least, not until it was too late.

It all happens in slow motion to Y/N. She watches, helpless, as the smoothies in her hand tipped, and as Tom Holland, CEO of Holland and Co., turned around to be met with not one, nor two, nor three, but four strawberry smoothies. His mouth gapes, and hers does too, a quiet but sharp “oh fuck,” spilling from her lips. She stands, motionless, for less than a second before she’s sprung in motion, leaping for the nearest towels, endless apologies spewing from her lips.

This is it. Months of effort to even be considered for this position, and she’s fucked it up on the second day.

Y/N waits, eyes closed, preparing for the inevitable blow of being fired, the humiliation she’d face (god knows the entire floor was already staring at them wide-eyed), but to her surprise, it never comes. Instead, the towels are plucked from her hands, and her eyes snap open to be met with the prettiest face she thinks she’s ever come across, amusement flitting through their eyes.

“Don’t do that again, yeah, love?” And he’s gone, strolling away from her stunned form, so casually that Y/N wonders how he can ignore the smoothie dripping off his suit so easily. The rest of the floor stare after him as well, each of them with eyes blown wide and mouths hanging open.

-

Tom has no idea what just happened.

He’s got smoothie dripping from his suit that — mind you — was quite possibly one of his most expensive clothing investments, and he’s not even that angry about it. He isn’t really sure what had happened. He remembers looking over at the intern, Y/N, he remembers (and god, was she adorable), and then suddenly being drenched in a thick, gooey substance that suspiciously smelled like strawberries. Had it been anybody else, Tom’s sure they’d be out of his company faster than they could blink. But there was something about Y/N that captivated him, and he isn’t sure he’d be able to handle firing her over such a trivial mistake (of course, he’s fired employees over less, but he dismisses that thought). So instead, he’d strolled away as casually and as quickly as he possibly could force himself to act, trying to disguise the red blush that would’ve surely risen to his cheeks and turned his ears a bright, piercing red. His heart had pounded in his chest, so loud he wonders if Y/N had heard it, and as soon as he was out of sight, he’d darted into his office and shut the door.

His heart is still pounding in his chest, and he has no idea how some intern he’s never even said more than three sentences to can have such an impact on him. (Tom almost considers turning to Harrison for advice, but he would prefer not to be called a sap for the rest of his life) So, he strips himself of his smoothie-soaked suit jacket and prays to avoid any future interaction with Y/N.

-

Of course, Tom’s wish refused to come true, because the next morning, walking into the building, he bumps into her again.

Well, not literally. He’s strolling leisurely into the warm building, shooting a tight-lipped smile to the receptionist who always seemed to be showing a ridiculous amount of cleavage whenever he came around when he hears his name being called and the sound of approaching footsteps. Turning around, he crosses his fingers desperately, hoping that it was some other employee — preferably one that didn’t make his heart skip a beat at the mere thought of them.

But he’s still met with the sight of Y/N running through the doors of the building, regardless of his desperate wishes. It only takes a few seconds for her to catch up to his still figure, and when she does, she bends over, panting with her hands resting on her knees.

“Holy fu— sorry, language. M’so out of shape,” Y/N heaves, straightening up and wiping at her head, “you’re so fast, wow—” Tom finds himself unable to respond, head dizzy from her presence. He’s pretty sure if she knew he was taking such deep breaths because she smelled so oddly intoxicating, she’d call him a creep and run away and never speak to him ever again. He thinks she smells like vanilla, which is so common that he wonders how she can make it work so well, and—

“Mr. Holland?” Y/N’s hand waves in front of his face, and Tom snaps out of his daydream to muster up a charming smile for her. “Were you listening?”

Tom hums, nodding his head to show he was interested — a common courtesy. She shot him a suspicious glance but returned his smile nonetheless. “Well,” she started, clapping her hands together, “I brought you something — to say sorry for spilling my smoothies on you yesterday.” Tom doesn’t really know what to expect, but as she reaches into her purse, he’s definitely not expecting her to pull out a small pastry wrapped in a Greggs wrapper, neatly folded into a small rectangle.

“It’s a sausage roll,” Y/N explains, pushing it into his hands, “from Greggs. I just love their sausage rolls, and I just passed one as I was pulling into work, so I thought I’d buy you one as an apology.” At this point, he’s working overtime to not consciously drool over the sausage roll in his hands, because he’s sure that Y/N would run for the hills if she saw him so unprofessional.

So, he musters up a polite nod, a smile, and a: “Thank you, love.” And she takes that as her cue to scurry off, with a wave to the receptionist who’s not so inconspicuously scowling at her, and she’s out of Tom’s sight.

He stares after her until she’s completely out of his sight, and when she’s gone, he breathes a sigh of relief.

He’s got an issue on his hands.

---

When Y/N tells her new friends about the traumatic incident that had occurred the previous day, she finds that they’ve taken to staring at her in awe, because holy shit, you’ve spilt four smoothies on the most temperamental CEO in the business and yet you’re still here. (how reassuring. mind the sarcasm.)

“Are you joking?” Mike stares at Y/N, mouth open so wide that Y/N’s curious if his jaw is achy yet. “If that were me, I would’ve been fired quicker than I could’ve said sorry. And he called you ‘love’ too? Man, you’ve got him wrapped around your little pinky finger.” (Y/N’s sure they’re just saying this to make her feel better — after all, it’s not every day you spill four smoothies on a multi-millionaire CEO)

“I bet Mr. Holland’s got the hots for you,” Sarah whispers, turning her head to make sure nobody important is in earshot (because anything can set Mr. Holland off, really), “you could probably bust up all of his cars and he’d smile at you, babe.”

“Yeah,” Jacqueline butts in, and Y/N sends her a frown because this entire time they’d been talking, Jacqueline had been quietly filing papers (or at least that’s what Y/N thought), only to realize she’d actually been listening in the entire time, “Mr. Holland likes you— like, like likes you.”

Y/N snorts, sending Jacqueline an unamused stare. “What is this, middle school? M’sure he’s just being nice, s’all.”

Sarah scoffs, raising her eyebrows disbelievingly. “Yeah, right, and I’m a millionaire,” she jokes sarcastically, glancing at Y/N with a lopsided grin on her face. “Trust me. Mr. Holland is anything but nice.”

But Y/N can’t seem to believe that. Surely, he wasn’t that horrible, right?

-

Days pass and Tom hasn’t seen Y/N in a while, and although he has to admit that popping out a stiffy in the middle of a business proposal at the thought of her isn’t the most enticing, he’s starting to miss her. (of course, the only interaction he’s truly had with her is the disaster that cost him a fortune at the dry cleaners, but he still admires her from afar in the least stalker-y way possible)

Most employees would find it beneficial to have the least contact with Tom as possible. It’s been a bit of a known fact that when called into his office, chances are, they’d be leaving with their belongings in a box. So when Nadine, her supervisor, tells Y/N that he’d like to see her in his office, (and in a very loud tone, at that, so now she’s got the whole office staring after her as she shamefully trudges to Tom’s office) she’s quite terrified. She’d only heard horror stories about what went on in his office, and she’s really come to love the company and crosses her fingers and toes that he isn’t going to terminate her internship. (maybe, Y/N thinks, Tom changed his mind about the smoothie incident. Or even worse, he hated the sausage rolls)

So needless to say, Y/N is just about ready to piss herself pushing open the door to his office, because she remembers what happened on her first day and she has no desire to receive the same treatment. As soon as she sees Tom, sitting in his office chair sorting a few papers, she’s already immediately blurting out a plea.

“If you’re going to fire me, please just make it quick.” Tom’s face twists into one of confusion, and he chuckles. (my god, was she dense.)

“Fire you?” He laughed, placing the papers to the side. “The opposite, actually. When your internship finishes, I was going to offer you a permanent job here at Holland and Co. Unless you don’t want it?” The grin that he offers her is so cheeky that Y/N considers saying no just to wipe the smile off his face for scaring the shit out of her like that, but she isn’t nearly rich or petty enough to refuse such a huge proposal. So instead, she nods eagerly, holding in a squeal that threatens to burst out of her throat, and thanks him profusely. What Tom doesn’t expect is for her to pull him into a tight hug, and he’s floored. (he realizes that he really enjoys her hugs.) When she’s pulled back, her face has contorted into one of embarrassment, and she mumbles an awkward apology before she escorts herself out of the door.

(Tom’s grateful, because maybe then, she wouldn’t have seen the blush that tinted his tan cheeks a rosy red.)

-

Tom has a problem.

He’s found that he’s got a crush on one of his company’s interns, Y/N. A real, massive, red-faced, crush on her. In fact, he’s found himself looking forward to seeing her when he can — even though he only sees her a handful of times in a month — and yet, he feels an oddly joyful twisting in his gut when she directs that brilliant smile of hers towards him. He’s realized that she’s weaseled her way into his heart and life, and truth be told, he really has no problem with it. Even embraces it, at that.

So yes, he’s got a problem.

-

Tom is absolutely fucking exhausted.

He’s just about ready to go home, make himself a cuppa, and crash in his obnoxiously soft bed. He’s sure that the company is empty by now because it’s well over the time they get dismissed, so he stumbles out of his office before closing and locking the door. Tom scans the room a final time, ready to leave, but his eyes catch a dim light left on in the back, and he rolls his eyes to go check, annoyed at whichever wanker decided to leave the lights on before they left. So he’s certainly caught off guard when he comes across Y/N tapping away at her computer, sat in her little cubicle.

“Y/N?” Tom asks cautiously, brows furrowed. He has no idea what she’s still doing here, especially since she was supposed to leave at five and the sky outside has already darkened drastically.

“Holy fucking shit—” she screeches, her arms jerking up to cover her mouth, “oh my God, Mr. Holland, you scared the shit outta me.” He finds it quite adorable that she’s sitting there, eyes wide, a hand placed on her heaving chest.

“What’re you still doing here?” Tom questions, because he hasn’t known a single person who would stay past the time they were supposed to return home, and he wasn’t expecting an intern of all people to do so at all.

“I was gonna leave soon, promise, s’just that I almost had this done, so I just wanted to stay to finish it.” Tom nods thoughtfully, switching his briefcase from his right hand to his left, and beckons her to follow him to the parking garage.

“Well come on then, I’ll walk you to your car.” And although Y/N appreciates the thought, (a foolish one, to be honest, because what university student can afford a bloody car?) she shakes her head.

“Well, I was just planning on walking home, because it’s not too far, y’know, and—“

“No way you’re walking home at — 9 at night!” Tom scoffs, checking his watch. He’s gotten way too attached to her to let her put herself in any sort of danger, so he proposes the only idea he could think of in the spur of the moment— “I’ll drive you home, darling.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, Mr. Holland,” she protests, shaking her head wildly, “besides, I’m sure it’s not even on the route, so—“ He interrupts her yet again, (a repeating occurrence, she realizes) shaking his head.

“Nonsense. Come on, now. The sooner we get you back, the better.” And with that, Y/N watches him turn around, followed by her trailing behind him like some sort of lost puppy.

It’s not long until they arrive in the parking garage, but Y/N sees a stunning Rolls Royce and gushes over it internally. She’s ready to pass it by, wave goodbye at it, (call her dramatic, but it isn’t every day you can admire a sleek red Rolls Royce in person) but instead, they stop in front of it.

Y/N, who experiences an odd sense of deja vu, crashes into his sturdy back in response. Tom raises an eyebrow, amused, and shoots his hand out to steady her. “Thank god you didn’t have any smoothies this time, hm?” Y/N watches as he moves to the driver’s seat, opening the door, but pauses when he catches sight of her frozen figure.

“What’s the matter, love?” He grins, his hand resting lazily on the open door. Y/N stays where she stood, too terrified to even approach the vehicle (because let’s be real, if she fucked anything up, she’d have to sell every single one of her internal organs to pay it back).

“Oh—Oh fuck— sorry, but shit, Mr. Holland, there’s no way you can expect me to get in that car,” she swallows, backing up slightly, “that’s gotta cost more than I would if I sold myself on the black market.”

Tom simply chuckles, and Y/N’s heart sort of bursts at the sound since it’d been her first time hearing the joyous sound. He ducks his head to crawl into the luxurious car with a simple, “Alright, doll, just get in,” and she practically scrambles to the passenger seat. (as reluctant as she was, she wasn’t thrilled to walk the long trek home in the slightest.)

She’s barely halfway inside the car before she’s already cramping herself to occupy a smaller area of space despite the spacious interior. Tom notices at the same time, tilting his head as he watches her cautiously press the seatbelt into its buckle as if she’d shatter the buckle with too much pressure.

“You look like I‘ve just forced you into an airtight box, love.” He mutters casually, placing a hand on the back of her seat to reverse out of the garage, “Loosen up for me, alright? Where am I dropping you off?”

She gives him an address, and he programs it into his phone. “Well, look at that, darling, you’re right on my route home.” (he’s lying, but she really doesn’t need to know that they essentially live on opposing sides of London, because the last thing he wants her to do is to leave and walk home) He can see her exhale a sigh of relief and grin, and that alone is enough for Tom not to feel an ounce of regret about his choice.

-

In hindsight, this was a great idea.

Now, Tom’s not too sure, because she’s got the radio on now, and she’s singing like nobody’s there and it makes Tom’s heart grow three sizes too big. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s starting to fall for her, further than any point of return, and if anyone saw them in that car in that very moment, they’d see him staring at her with the softest gaze anyone had ever seen on the seemingly apathetic CEO in a long time.

It’s when they approach Y/N’s apartment building that something happens. Y/N whispers out a thank you, and she’s almost out of his car, that Tom catches a glimpse of her phone wedged in the cup holders, and he reaches out for her wrist, calling out for her to wait. He doesn’t expect her to unceremoniously tumble back into his car and lap with a squawk from the sudden tug on her wrist.

“S—Sorry!” Tom yelps, a flush crawling up his neck, and it’s then that he realizes how close their faces were. If he were to lean down in the slightest, their lips would meet and— “Your phone! You forgot your phone!”

Y/N never really had the ability to think rationally in unforeseen situations. Which is maybe why she can’t help but lean up and press a quick kiss to his lips, stunning into silence, but it’s not even her fault, truthfully! (it is, but she tries to give herself the benefit of the doubt) She’d never seen him so uncomposed and flustered, and it was honestly the most adorable thing she’d ever seen.

Her eyes blink at her sudden bold attitude, and then she’s scrambling out the car, maneuvering herself in a way that she wouldn’t headbutt Tom, and she’s gone, running into the building with a loud stuttered “sorry!” Tom loses sight of her, still staring after her, dazed, one singular thought running through his head.

Holy fuck.

-

Tom calls Harrison as soon as he gets home. Harrison arrives in ten minutes flat. (“God, you’re such a drama queen. I’m on my way.”)

“C’mon, mate, don’t just stand there and call me a sap, what do I do?” Tom groans, throwing a toy to Tessa who lay on the couch beside his body, staring at him with a peculiarly knowing look, and Tom groans again because even his damn dog knew about his dilemma.

“She probably likes you, you div,” Harrison grins, raising his voice to imitate Y/N. “Mr. Holland is just… so hot! I dream about kissing him every night!”

“Oi, come off it, you dickhead, she doesn’t even sound like that,” Tom mutters, shoving Harrison to the side. “Probably didn’t even mean shit to her, just like, a friendly kiss or summat.” Tom knows it was more than that. If the amorous gazes and gestures were anything to go by, it would be easy to mistake them as head over heels for one other (unfortunately for them, it’s not exactly a mistake to assume they’re goners for each other, because it’s absolutely true).

Harrison shoots him a look. “Yeah, mate, I kiss all my friends too. S’just a normal friend thing, innit? Now c’mon, gimme a nice smooch.” Harrison teases, puckering his lips to make obnoxious smacking noises towards Tom. He’s met with a pillow to the face, and he laughs, throwing his head back. “You’re so whipped, mate.”

Maybe just a little, Tom thinks.

-

The next morning, Tom’s prepared to man up and do something about his hopeless crush on Y/N. He’s got his entire speech planned out, in fact.

He’ll start it off by handing her a muffin. Chocolate chip, to be specific. And then, he’ll woo her with a romantic speech, as follows: “Y/N, I think I’ve liked you ever since you spilled those drinks on me. I’ve been wanting to ask you to dinner for a while now, and the kiss we shared last night was amazing. So, will you go out with me?” (it sounds better in his head, it really does)

But none of that happens, because when he catches her eye, he beelines for her and they both let out a rush of words at once.

“I brought you something—“

“Last night was a mistake—“

Tom stops, mouth drying at her words. “Sorry, what?”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Holland, that was so unprofessional of me to kiss you. We can just forget it ever happened if that’s alright.” And Tom’s mouth snaps shut, his hopeful words dying on his tongue before they could escape. Y/N stood in front of him, wringing her hands, a smoothie by her side. “I brought you a smoothie to apologize — you seemed like a Berry Blast kind of guy. Hope that’s alright.” She hands him the smoothie, unaware of Tom’s internal battle because damn it all to hell, he so desperately wanted that kiss to mean something to her and no, he never wanted to forget about it. He sends her a pained, restrained smile, accepting the smoothie she holds as a peace offering and tries to retreat to his office.

“Wait, Mr. Holland!” Y/N cries out, running to tap his shoulder, “What were you saying? I cut you off earlier.”

Tom carefully hides the chocolate chip muffin behind his back, shaking his head. “It was nothing, you took the words right out of my mouth.” Tom laughs, and yet the sound is so forced it almost makes him wince. Y/N’s smile drops for the slightest moment before it’s up on her face again.

“Oh, alright then!” She smiles, waving her hand towards him, “Have a nice day then!”

Tom decides he most certainly will not.

-

“You guys are such bloody wankers!” Y/N cries as soon as she reaches her cubicle, “Y’said he liked me! And just now, he told me that he wanted to forget about the kiss too. God, I’m so humiliated! I might as well just go on and die from humiliation now—“

“Okay, babe, chill,” Sarah tries, but to no avail.

“—I can see the headlines already! ‘Intern kisses boss, gets rejected and dies.’ Fuckin’ hell—“ Y/N’s mini-rant is cut off by Sarah’s hand coming to clamp over her mouth, muffling any sound, but quickly yanks her hand back at the feeling of Y/N’s tongue licking a stripe across her palm.

“I’m sure everything’ll be fine, no harm done. He’ll forget about it in two days flat, promise.” Sarah reassures her, patting her back awkwardly.

-

“For fuck’s sake, mate,” Tom grumbles, head in his hands, “you said she was into me!” Tom’s in shambles because as far as he knows, he’s just humiliated himself in front of the girl he’s taken a liking to.

Harrison laughs at his distressed state teasingly, tossing a pen in the air and catching it to cease his boredom. “M’sure she was just doing what she thought you’d want — hope you realize you aren’t the most approachable guy.”

“Fuck off, you div,” Tom mutters, tossing a highlighter at Harrison’s head, “I resent that, mate.”

-

The next time Tom interacts with her, it’s not for at least a month. (he needed the time to shake off his humiliation.)

It’s so similar to the previous time that it makes Tom’s heart clench at the memory of her soft lips on his. This time though, it’s because the weather outside was pouring buckets that flooded the streets and soaked everything in contact. So it’s not even a question of ‘maybe’ before Tom’s already insisting on driving her home.

“Love, there’s no way in hell that I’m letting you walk through that rain,” Tom tells her, already pulling on his jacket. “Now c’mon, what kind of boss would I be if I didn’t drive you home?”

Y/N reluctantly agrees, shutting down her computer and picking her purse up from under her desk. “Alright. But you’ve got to promise me that I’m not a bother, Mr. Holland.”

“Never,” Tom promises, placing a hand on her arm to gently guide her to the exit. “D’you want me to pull the car up? I know it’s raining pretty hard out there, don’t want you to get wet or summat.” He picks up on his unintentional innuendo too late, his cheeks and ears flushing a thorough red blush. “Not—not like that, I mean like—”

“No, no, it’s alright, I can survive a little rain.” Tom’s never been more grateful for Y/N ignoring his slip-up, because he’s sure that if she’d acknowledged it, Tom would’ve stayed red for the next century or so. (get it together, he tells himself, she’s just a girl, and you’re not a virgin, you moron,)

The drive to her place is quiet apart from her loud singing, but the real dilemma comes when they pull up to the door.

“For fuck’s sake, I—ugh.” Y/N groans, hand leaving her purse dejectedly. “I’ve locked myself out. Don’t even have a spare key.” Tom’s headgears are already turning before she can finish her sentence. “S’alright, I’ll just call my landlord and sleep with a neighbour or something.”

“Why don’t you come sleep at my house?” Tom offers, and Y/N is quick to refuse, insisting that she’s already a bother, and she wouldn’t force him to deal with her presence any longer. “I already promised you weren’t a bother, darling.”

When Y/N buckles up her seatbelt again, she’s expecting Tom to just continue down the road, but instead he makes a swift u-turn and drives back down the same road the came from.

“Mr. Holland! You told me my apartment was on route to yours — why’ve we turned ‘round?” She gapes, head spinning to look back through the window towards her flat. Tom gives her a cheeky shrug, flicking his windshield wipers to a higher speed as the rain came down harder and obstructed his view of the road.

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” he mutters, sending her a smile. “Plus, that’s Tom to you outside of work — Mr. Holland is my dad, love.”

-

Tom doesn’t know how he’s gotten into this position.

He’s got Y/N in his arms, sound asleep, wearing his shirt, sleeping on his bare chest, and his mind is still hazy from the kisses they shared that night. He remembers how they walked into his penthouse, and Y/N had gushed over everything inside, (“holy shit, Mr—Tom, you have a fucking fluffy bath mat? I’ve always wanted one!”) and awed over his dog Tessa, (“ohmigod, you have a bloody dog too? You’re like… the perfect man!” and Tom has to admit that he took this in a different way, because he would love to be Y/N’s perfect man.) Tom had set up his Netflix for her to browse as he prepared them both a warm cuppa, and he’d returned to see Y/N and Tessa cuddled up in a blanket he’d brought for her. The sight tightened his chest, and really, everything from there is a blur.

The main part that he remembers is that they kissed. (and oh, did they kiss)

“You’ve driven me bloody insane, darling,” Tom admitted, pulling her in for a kiss that frazzled her nerves and curled her toes. Y/N’d pulled away, gasping for air, and Tom trailed light kisses down the length of her neck, his arms wrapping themselves around her waist.

“What’re we doing, Tom?” She’d asked between kisses that he’d pressed to her face.

“What I’ve been wanting for a long while, love.”

And here he was, her head heavy on his chest, nose tucked into the crook of his neck, and Tom’s never felt more at peace. Y/N blinks awake, yawning softly and blinking blearily before she readjusts herself, pulling her body to lay on top of his.

“You’re my… my pillow now, m’kay?” She murmurs, reaching up to press a kiss to his jaw.

Tom smiles, tightening his hold on the sleepy girl, humming. He’s pushing her hair back to kiss her forehead, and Tom decides that he’s never been happier.

want to be added to my taglist?

everything tags:

@timelock97​ @gendryia @laucontrerasv @megzdoats @tommydaspidey @boredombesson @not-jay-c @its-the-unknownspidey

tom tags:

@bellagrayson-wayne @thorkyriebabes @ynm1505

not on my taglist but i hope will read this: 

@stuckonspidey @hholyholland @bloodredsatan @suckerforparker @afterglowparker

[goopytoad]

Letting Off Some Steam

Title: Letting off some steam. Warnings/Contains: Masturbation, Edging, Mentions of fucking, BoyxBoy, Orgasm Denial, Mentions Of Grinding. Genre: Smut. Pairing: Dan Howell/Phil Lester POV: Phil desc.: Dan leaves to go to his parents house for a day or two. Phil stays home and lets off some steam while he's gone. Rating: MATURE words: 1,362 __________________________________ ___________ _________________________ "Bye Dan!" Phil waved Dan good-bye, as he left to go catch his train that went to his hometown, so he could spend some time with his family for a couple days. And that left Phil at the flat alone for two whole days, and that meant that he could do what he's been longing to do for months without hesitation. He needed to blow off some steam. Especially without Dan in the flat, so he didn't risk getting caught by him, and he could be as loud and open as he wanted without him hearing. Dan walked out of the flat, and as soon as he closed the door, Phil opend his laptop and turned it on in one swift movement. He hasn't jerked off properly in, well, weeks. and as a man with a high sex drive, that was absolute hell. He clicked on igcognito mode on his laptop- just in case Dan did decide to use his laptop for any paticular reason. Either because his died, broke, or he was too lazy to get up and get his from his room. He typed in pornhub, clicked search, and clicked on the first website that popped up on google. Phil was in no rush. He slowly slid his laptop down his lap and rubbed the front of his sweat pants, scrolling down the homepage down to the m/m link, and then he clicked. He was gifted with lots, and lots of boys as soon as the page loaded. He let out a shaky breath and he searched in the search bar, "Femboy Twink" That's what always got him riled up, it reminded him of Dan and for some reason it turned him on thinking about domming his best friend dressed in feminine lingere. The page loaded, and he sucked in a breath at the immense ammount of want he had for a cute sub, paticularly Daniel. Phil knew Dan was a sub, he had seen his search history. (by accident.) He had seen his amazon bought history, mainly consisting of different types of thigh highs and panties- Dan had made a new account and left himself logged onto it on his laptop, when Phil asked to use it to order something off of the site. Then he saw it. And he just acted like he didn't and he didn't ask Dan about it. Once, Phil was in domspace at random and was being kind of assertive with Dan. As soon as he let out a stern, "Stop, Daniel," Dan had fallen into subspace in a matter of seconds after that. And yeah, he had noticed him squirming around occasionally, and pressing his thighs together. And he might have noticed Dan's half-hard cock straining against the zipper of his jeans as he tried to gain friction without seeming to noticable, he might have noticed that too much than he should have. And later that night, Phil heard him jerking off in his room, whispering his name and swearing under his breath when he walked to turn off all the nights and brush his teeth. Yeah, it made Phil more turned on than it should have. So what? It's not his fault that his flatmate can't help but to fall into subspace at a demand from him. Phil took his shirt off so it didn't get dirty. He clicked on the video of a twink with thigh highs and panties riding a pillow. That, was hot for some reason. He didn't know why he liked it so much, but he just watched without any shame as a feminine guy rode a pillow in front of him, well on a screen of coarse. He did want Daniel to be here so he could watch him squirm and moan on top of a pillow as he helplessly humped it to get off. That's hot. Phil was half hard just at the thought of that, he palmed himself and let out a strangled breath as he wanted to touch himself so badly. But he knew that he couldn't last, and he wanted to make this last as long as he could. Then, the boy on the screen let out a moan. Oh fuck, Phil noticed how much this boy sounded like Daniel. He unbottond his sweats as fast as he could, his dick not comfortable rubbing against the soft fabric of them anymore. He pulled down his sweatpants and his boxers at the same time, leaving his red and hard cock to slap up against his stomach. He took two fingers and slid them over the top of his dick, and moaned at the sensation and pleasure created from it. Phil reached under the couch to find Dan's hand lotion, because well, he needed soft hands, I guess? The hand lotion was 100% not for jerking off to gay anime porn when Phil wasn't home. That's not what that's for. He let out a pump of lotion onto his hand and slipped it back under the couch, his dick twitched in anticipation and arousal as soon as he spread the lotion over his left hand. He encased his dick with his hand, and moved it up and down slowly. Phil moaned quietly as he stimulated himself with his hand. He didn't go any faster, he wanted to tease himself for as long as he could take it. It was now an hour after Dan had left, and he couldn't be happier to have him leave. That sounded crude, he knew, but he really needed the time alone in the flat. Soon, Phil couldn't fucking take it any longer and he went faster. "Ohhh, ffucking hell." Came out of his mouth as he jerked his cock, listening to the moans of the little twink who sounded so so much like Daniel did. Quiverd moans and strangled whimpers came from Phil at the thought of doing, well, anything that involved him on top of Dan and Dan moaning under him and telling him to go faster and faster until he came untouched. Phil's phone dinged. He panted and picked it up to see that it was a message from Dan. "hey. im on the train. just wanted to tell you in case you got worried." Phil let go of his dick, it strained against his stomach and twitched with the loss. "Thanks for telling me. I get worried sometimes." He clicked send. Another message came through at most 30 seconds later. "i dont even want to know what you're doing at the flat right now lol." "Haha. Okay, have a nice time at your parent's house Dan. And try to communicate with your dad? for me?" "yeah. sure. love you phil, bye." "Love you too." It wasn't weird for two bros to say i love you to eachother? Right? Ever seince they had met in real life they had been saying I love you to eachother. Because they loved eachother, as friends and nothing more. Phil thought about that as soon as he moaned Dan's name and bucked his hips up into his hand, he was so close and then? He let go and let out a cry at the immidiate loss, he bucked his hips into the air as he resisted the urge to touch himself and to bring himself to orgasm so fast. After a minute, he decided that he would let himself orgasm now. Phil grasped his cock and moaned. It was so sensitive. He rubbed his tip and ran his finger over his slit and jerked his cock. Precome started to leak out of his hard cock, he was letting out moans of pleasure as his orgasm approached quickly. He tipped his finger into his slit, and he came hot ribbons across his stomach. Phil's thighs clenched and unclenched, his back arched and he moaned Dan's name as his orgasm wracked through his body. He let out a tired "Phew" and turned off his Laptop, shut it, and wiped his stomach off with a tissue that were located on the coffee table because Dan had been "sick" the last couple days. He pulled his sweatpants back up around his waist and turned the TV on. He picked up his phone and texted Dan, "We need to talk when you get home."

[poetic-beats]

Update: Good news

The lady I saw with the crisis team was absolutely amazing. Honestly I wanted to hug her at the end but i felt that would not be appropriate.

She sat and listened to us for over an hour. Like we were literally in there with her until gone 8pm...

I was like what now...its gone 8 wow...but she didnt like say anything about it she didnt like stop us or whatever...you know she let me and my mum talk away and she asked the questions she needed to ask.

She was just so lovely. So SO lovely. She completely empathised and understood my situation and my mums feelings and situation handling all this.

She is gonna refer me back to meadow lodge but hopefully i get the other psychiatrist not my old one.

But also it was more because i obviously need emergency care and to refer me to a brand new psychiatrist place outside of my area too would take longer. 

Also there is this whole thing because i was discharged less than 6 months ago when the crisis team put in a referral the process should happen very fast from her sending in the referral to the psychiatrist team at Meadow Lodge making an appointment for me. Because of the time span between the referral from her and me being discharged from Meadow Lodge.

Where as a new place I would just be getting an appointment as a new patient with no record of ever being under their care and I wouldn’t necessarily get seen as fast.

I am hesitant if i do end up with my old psychiatrist again but she told me I can always write in a complaint to my psychiatrists manager. I did not know this was even a thing as she is the head of the psychiatrists at Meadow Lodge but the lady explained to me they should usually and always do have someone in charge of that whole place as they have more than just psychiatrists working there so its like the top guy who runs the whole meaodw lodge and the psychiatrist i saw just was sort of the manager of the psychiatry department within the lodge but thats comforting to know there is someone above her at the lodge that i can file a complaint with if i get her again.

Also my GP and the crisis team lady were confused about why i’d never been offered CBT or even told that there is a free self referral place in my town that offers CBT the crisis team lady was very shocked that I was NEVER given this option or ever told about it.

Because I had mentioned I had asked my ex psychiatrist for CBT as an example of the other kinds of therapy I had wanted. Because one thing to point out.

BPD’s main treatment is DBT with mindfulness. Bipolar therapy is CBT. 

The mindfulness portion of the BPD therapy which i sat through before having to leave for my own good due to a Mania that was not helped by the teachings of the mindfulness course which told me to live in the moment and forget the future or past and consequences basically like trying to reduce anxiety i suppose but someone in a bipolar mania cannot handle that youre basically giving me a green light to spend all my money and be reckless. 

And the lady at the crisis team completely understood this! Which was refreshing. It is as if they didnt take into account BOTH my conditions when offering me this therapy. And when i brought up this issue to my ex psychiatrist she got defensive and rude and then discharged me. 

But yes...I am excited now that i can do CBT which is not gonna trigger the BPD and will be effective for the Bipolar oh and its not that CBT doesnt work on BPD patients its just they believe BPD patients might respond better too DBT.

But as you know every patient is different and its not a one shoe fits all. Also this information only goes on the basis of someone having JUST BPD not that AND bipolar. 

So you cant say oh BPD patients respond to DBT that is what you will do. Because I also have Bipolar and DBT is NOT recommended for obvious reasons for that. So they should have taken that into account. AND CBT on patients with BOTH conditions well it can work. 

Obviously in an ideal world I would receive a multi disciplinary approach a psychotherapist who draws the best bits from multiple therapeutic techniques to combat the issues within both my disorders. But I NEVER have and NEVER will expect that on the NHS given its current state. Sad thing is when looking for private therapists in my surrounding areas. They do not seem to be helping out BPD and Bipolar patients. Let alone someone with both.

Most just offer therapy for PTSD OCD ANXIETY AND DEPRESSION and GRIEVANCE THERAPY like literally the BASICS.

I found one woman who is trained extensively in BPD adults. and has done a therapy which ive read up on and sounds amazing and results sound amazing but its relatively new to the Therapy world as most therapies have been around for a LONG time so this schema therapy completely redefines how we treat a patient with BPD. But as i said its shown amazing results. 

But she IS around £80 a session possibly up to £100.

and I would more than likely be having bare minimum fortnightly meetings with her. So that could be anywhere between 200-400 pounds a month depending if its weekly or fortnightly.

That is a LOT of money. 

Money neither me or my parents have right now.

However if i DO get my DLA (PIP) which currently I cannot do given the horrible letter my Psychiatrist gave me. Then I might get enough money from that to pay for my therapy. 

But right now though I can self refer to this CBT therapy so that might be enough and might be all I need at this moment in time to help myself and unlock the tools i need to further my development and recovery. 

So yes. I also really need to be on some form of anti psychotic or mood stabiliser as i am currently on a high dose anti depressant and my psychiatrist discharged me on this dose without warning really oh this is probably very dangerous and your risk of Bipolar relapse is VERY high.

So..yeah and here I am now. Although every meeting I actually had with her this year before discharging me I was in a Bipolar relapse. My GP when i got discharged and went to see him did make a comment on my moods there and then.

Something my psychiatrist either did not pick up on or did but chose to discharge me anyways because as she said to us in our final meeting that other people are waiting for this service we cant help you forever and ive got to learn to manage my conditions on my own and handle it on my own.

Which we get but if youve not given me tools to manage on my own im going in blind which is why i need therapy. To increase the tools in my toolkit to help myself.

That is like taking a persons walking stick away and saying youve got this problem with your leg but more people are in the queue behind you so you need to learn to manage this on your own and find out your own ways of coping but we arent gonna give you any tips or tools to help you good bye...and then expecting someone to know how to help themselves aka get a walking stick although its an obvious answer to get a walking stick so the analogy maybe doesnt work at that level but you get my point.

But I feel a lot less worse than i was yesterday. So I am not too bad right now given how yesterday went.

[horrible-monstrosity]

some nonsense about capitalism, and some more nonsense with the egg girl being far too willing to act for herself, which just raises questions about how this works and why these girls need saving in the first place and bla bl a bla also brownie, who we haven't even seen fight before, has like five different weapons already... dude just let the other girls modify their weapons if they can imagine it in place of randos giving main girl random shit that just works for some reason. second ep, main sees gynmasts gym whip and thinks, what if I did that and makes her own weapon change like that; third/fourth seeing the two fan girls being friends inspires main girl to tell idol girl we needs to do the teamwork and they both work their weapons into something matching and do the thing. this would also imply that summoning two related girls gets you an approximately twice-as-strong monster, as though their monsters had merged rather than spawning as seperate entities, which would be implied to be what happened when brownie cracked like 20 eggs at once if THE SHOW EVER FUCKING ADDRESSES THAT also man bad woman victim a bloo bloo blooo

hey remmer last episde wehn muh sawki name was cliffhanger dramatic? now they jus dump it on us that the mom recognises her and she just says she's his niece. glad to know i don't need to care about that either thanks main namedrops koito aka suicide girl like she expects the other two to know who the actual fuck she's talking about so brownie can exposition to them that she's the girl main's trying to save without having to actually write main having any emotions about having a dead fucking friend she's trying to bring back, like she might have to pause slightly before she says "my friind who committed fucking suicide because of me" wow that'd be too hard to write... not that they didn't already kill it by having her just casually, emotionlessly namedrop the girl in the first place. idol girl then immeeeeeeediately decides sudoku girl was sucking sawasaki man's dick and that's why she killed herself, right to the face of main girl who has likely considered this many times over and who should be pretty fucking fucked up about this shit, who idol girl knows damn well should have thought about this and that maybe saying a girl's friend fucking killed herself for some teacher love scandal reason is kind of a dick move... and main barely fucking reacts. OK, COOL. AND THEN THE TEACHER INSTANTLY APPEARS AT THE HOUSE AT THAT EXACT MOMENT A AHAHAHAHAH H AH DHFSDUBGUBGTEV BYSU Y OES5YSYUYYYBRND BY65 YRBYB YIB8TU A4YT4W6 T UGG U FUCK OFF SHOW uncle adopts cats so he can't be bad.......??????? I mean I'm entirely sure this show will, in the next second immediately after I unpause this shit, immediately turn the teacher into the most absurd superdemon ever known to mankind so it can smear the slurry of MAN BAYUD WOMUN VBICTUMUUUUUMMM in our faces like the slurry of brain-diarhea coming out of thw writing staff's ears, but that doesn't actually excuse anything, gendergirl. Maybe he was kind to the girl like he's kind to his cats and that's why she fell in love with him, and whatever happened next wasn't even his fault. you dumb fuck.

lol they mentioned the injuries again lol they're still pretending that's an actual functioning plot point lol somehow asking mom-chan about why sudoku-chan fucking died turned into telling her about the dream fights... those two things have nothing to do with each other and can be completely separated. what the fuck.

lololololidolgirl has abusive mom completlely offscreen and she's just telling us lololololololol but talking about main's dad simply leaving turns into "lol men weak and bad can't hanble stronb wimun" lol fuck off

for some reason, or for absolutely no reason, or because the writers are pretentions tards who're like 'lookit how smurt we ar durrrrr' we cut from the meaningless grousing exposition schoolgirl slice-of-life club with brownie laughing to the not-sees laughing as brownie saves a grown-ass woman who tries to give her hair-care tips... "ain'tcha gonna ask why i diiiiiiied?" nope, brownie has as much interest in your meaningless exposition as I do. I'd say as the audience does, but you know there's a fuckload of dunning-krugers eating this shit up and claiming you only don't like it becus it needs u think durr even though thinking about this shit for five seconds is enough to show how much of a pile of bullshit it is. also, remember the first episode where it was kept beautifully ambiguous whether the girl main was saving had actually done the sudoku, or if she was considering it and being saved there would help her have the strength to keep living or some shit, or if she was a conceptual personification of a suicidal bullying victim created out of the subconcious of humanity and not even a real existing person? especially since she somehow knew what was happening, making it seem like she'd been through this before, like she'd been hatched and saved (or failed to be saved) previously? naw let's just spoonfeed everything to the audience, anally even. here's your suppository of bullshit. i know they'd already made it fairly clear the girls being saved had done the sudoku, but this "durrr do you know that uhhhhhh i'm dead?" bit is just... jesus christ shut the fuck up show, shut the fuck up what's the line between sudoku girls who end up as statues and ones who end up in eggs? could one of the main casts' sudoku girls end up in one of the others' eggs, or even in one of their own (especially given someone else can buy the egg for them and they don't even need to crack it themselves to get slapped into a fight) and end up being saved? how would that affect the statue's progress? what the fuck is any of this shit, even?

brownie slaps the shit out of haircare girl lol and the monster is... a hair-care monster. i... why the fuck are there two of them this time? sorry, three of them?? you'd think the "mirror mirror" shit would imply a theme of duality because reflections and shit but just... "how do i beat them?" fuck i don't know you're the mahu shuju here you figure it out then it....... cuts to the middle of the day with brownie hanging out with the rest of the girls... WHAT THE FUCK? so was that a flashback (for no fucking reason), did she beat them offscreen after having gone home and gone to sleep offscreen as well since it jumped to this from them hanging at main's home? what the fuck is happening and why the fuck should i care, show? and what we cut away to was a bunch of incoherent fucking babble in random fucking locations as the girls walk... somewhere for no reason at all... yeah, this was worth cutting off the battle for! i... after enough wandering they sit down to eat in some abandoned-ass-looking fucking I don't know where the fuck they are and... THE EGG PEOPLE TELL THEM TO BUY THEIR EGGS AND LEAVE. WHERE THE FUCK IN EGGLAND DID THEY FIND FOOD? DOES THE FOOD ACTUALLY EXIST? WILL EATING IT MAKE THEM FAT? WHERE THE FUCK ARE THEY? WHY DOES EGGWORLD EVEN HAVE A PLACE LIKE THIS? WHEN  DID THEY GET HERE? THE FUCK IS THE POINT OF THIS? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-- ........................the egg people turn on the lights for them and let them pkay game because.............................. aegIibuGHUHgHGbgb i thought they wre unfeeling and caulous vgny yueyy y jb that was like their one character trait you rubbed in in out faces how tyey were ht0hing but a shitty kyuibey ripoff dgbbky yr dj jffj why should they care? why did the girls even try to appeal to their sympathies for a fucking bowling game when they had previously been shown to have none?? agdaaaaaaaaaaaa

do fucking selfies carry over to the real world? who the fuck cares? gender girl tries to garner more sympathy with the audience by repeating her exact same gripes and character traits but this time with selfies. i could not care less. apparently we're supposed to care that 'ura-acca', whichever the fuck of the eggmen that even is, being softer on the girls than... other acca, even though they've been shown to have no appreciable differences before this, and also they're both completely offscreen so it's hard to even associate these shiny new character traits with whichever one of them is supposed to be doing it. what the fuck is the point of any of this again? "so buy your eggs and go to sleep"- WHAT THE FUDK I THOUGHT EGG-BUYING HAPPENED IN THE DREAMOWLRD TO BEING WITH. FUCKING MAIN CHARACTER SAID SHE WAS IN A DREAM WHEN THE CICADA STARTED TALKING TO HER AND THEN SHE WAS LED TO THE EGG-MACHINE. THIS PLACE EXISTS IN THE WAKING WORLD? CAN PEOPLE JUST FUCKING WALK IN HERE BECAUSE IT JUST ACTUALLY FUCKING EXISTS? WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUUU just as we're wondering why the fuck these girls don't just fucking buy their eggs already and get on with it idol girl just fucking suggests that they just fucking give up with it and stop buying eggs. fuuuuuuuuuuck I'd been long wondering about what the fuck was going to keep them doing eggs if they didn't want to, but it's just going to be something fucking dumb and they're just going to slam us in the fucking face with it like a fucking frying pan aren't they. also, idolgirl is just fucking saying this to the face of ura acca and other acca after they'd been bitching at the girls to get a move on, which just seems... really cheap and lazy on both her part and the writers' part. you wasted acca-kuns' time for nothing you little brat! also also, this is the girl with the derpest feelungs evurr who cut herself over the sudoku, whose dreamworl overrode main's? yeah remember that? she actually doesn't give a fuck and is going to give up now lol. ha ha bitch bye lolololol "im w9man so muh emotions spwepwpt away" you dumb fucker. and yeah, it's true that feeling guilty shouldn't mean you need to risk your life for some unknown payoff (none of the girls have even gotten CLOSE to reviving a statue as far as I can tell), but you'd think this conversation would come after a near-death harrowing battle or some shit, not just WANDERING AROUND AND EATING DREAM SNACKS AND TALKING ABOUT FUCKALL YOU LITTLE SHIT. Or after actually connecting with the main cast and making actual real-life friendships with them, with the idea that she has in real life now what she was missing when sudoku did the sudoku, but the main cast has absolutely no chemistry. The writers want us to think they do, but they just don't. "someone has to be the bad guy!" real funny line considering there's no real villain in this show, or conflict, or anything... but no, no one needs to be the bad guy, this whole "durr we riskung our lives for nutttun" came out of nowhere for no reason, we don't need it, and then yeah she informs us all that "we freinds" because durp. You were the one shittalking her dead best friend to her face either like five minutes ago or a day ago depending on how the fuck this is actually supposed to be paced, you fucknaut. None of these girls actually know each other aside from babbling about their shitty backstories and idol in particular is just an asshole. I hate this fucking show lol then... brownie......... dumpers her exposition backstory on us and it's EVEN DUMBER THAN ANYTHING BEFORE, SOMEHOW. naw, she has a huge fucking fuckoff scar all down her back from being...... stabbed, because a knife stabwound is like having your entire spine ripped out, and WE'VE NEVER HEARD ABOUT THIS AT ALL, SOMEHOW, OR EVEN GOTTEN A HINT OF IT, and somehow SHE KNEW FROM THE START THAT GOING TO EGGWORL WOULD MAKE HER SCAR HURT LESS BECAUSE IT MAKE U SWONGER, BECAUSE IF SHE DIDN'T KNOW THAT FROM THE START AND DIDN'T WANT TO SAVE HER SISTER WHY THE FUCK WOULD SHE START GOING THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE? and then finally eggmang tells us there was no reason for anyone to keep going to the eggworl in the first place, at all, ever, so they can all just give up if they decide they don't care abymore. GREAT, NICE TO KNOW I DEON'T NEED TO CARE ABOUT THAT EITHER, THANKS SHOW, YOU FUCKWIT.

then finally we get back the hair battle that happened..... whothe fuck knows when, it turns out the real monster is the egg girl some fucking how, brownie has a stupid fucking catchpjhrase because fuck you, the monater was actually egg girl's hair actually because that doesn't make any sense either, fuck you. why was this battle chosen as the one to flash back to repeatedly like it's indicative of brownie's storyline somehow? At least gendergirl's exposition battles were related to her dumb fucking issues, this shit's just random.

and then idol girl goes to... buy... the fucking egg...... even though she just said..................... sob eggman 2 tricked them into buying the eggs by saying nthyey didn't need to buy the eggs, some bullshit about teenage rebellion and reverse psychology, like he said "absolutely don't buy the eggs" instead of a wishy-washy "eeeeeeeeeif you want to or not auiehgfgh". why the fuck do they want them to buy the eggs again? and then eggman 1 has this... fucking..... "animation" of it """laughing"""" just by its stupid fucking solid black triangle of a mouth blinking in and out of existence and the artists see fit to put this right smack in the middle of the full screen for a good second so we can look at how good their animation is gsdfhdfhmvf  dtjf f then brownie looks sad or something, because having her reneg(g)e on the backstory and conviction they just exposited to us five seconds ago and didn't actually integrate or develop in the fuckinbg slightest is good writign fck, this shit i'm logging into my anime list and giving this show a 1 out of 10 i'm done

[somedaypast-thesunset]

im in this like .. cycle i guess. 

i want to reach out for support because i feel a lack of support but to express a lack of support offends people around me (despite their lack of support) and i lose even the smallest amount of support i had 

i’m really sad lingering on feeling depressed. and im trying hard to reprogram my brain to see it as feeling depressed and not being depressed because its like acting out the emotion of depressed as your character and i just want to feel it because im not in a movie. 

i had an issue with my roommates dog while being in immense pain from a stupid cyst and literally no one would help. as i laid on the floor in pain i knew no one would actually help. it wasnt until 11pm that he returned a phone call i made at noon and when i said i was in pain he offered to bring me to his house and take me to the doctors tomorrow. 

but his whole attitude had changed like i was really burdening his life now and i guess he was calling to tell me he was leaving like the next day or somethng and now ive interrupted it. of course he didnt “say” this but it felt heavily implied and i never really felt comfortable being around him. he didnt want to show any affection and seemed to avoid it, slept through the day and had us go to bed at 10pm 

he had mentioned briefly that he would take me to the doctors again today but pack up and leave in the evening. this morning it was the same awkward uncomfortableness and he had like little desire to talk to me. i thought like if that was our last night and this is our last morning i guess it really says alot. like i guess if im ever severely injured he will begrudgingly help me in some way but he’ll have a really shit attitude about it and i can be nothing more than grateful i guess?

i told him i would take myself to the doctors. he said okay. i said i was leaving in 10 minutes and he said okay. i sat feeling really sick and i understand, a bit, that alot of this sickness comes from feeling really alone in other areas of my life. so theres like this giant hole and immediate panic when the person who was atleast occupyng space in the hole leaves. but if i had other people i wouldnt feel such panic - i’m thinkng like wow i’m fucked if i’m actually hurt. or if i get sick. like i cant expect any help from anyone even though they all receive some kind of help from other people. i cant even make a call to anyone and express anything at all without them having to go or do something else in their life that im not apart of. and its not just bad timing -  i could wait and wait and im just waiting for someone to make the time for me and i have to be grateful that anyone would set aside even one hour of their day for me and ive not been around other people who understand the complexities of this. like, of course im grateful. im extremely grateful. thats like all i think about for that hour that thank fucking god there was a single human being willing to give me this time so i could even help myself in some way. 

and its not like i dont give this. ive given soooooooooo much of this an got nothing in return. except that i have to feel super grateful for the hour i get in return for my huge investment into their lives. and its like at nooooo point can i ask my mom for 20$. i cant ask my dad what credit card i should get. or if this person is ripping me off. like i get that i can (an will) do all these things myself but i dont even get the priviledge of receiving valid learned advice from a trusted source - i get jack offs and reddit commenters explaining how a mortgage works. or how to buy a car. or the best tips on a driving test. and when im sad and lonely? i get to turn to strangers on the internet or i guess worse, this. even though its likely no one at all will read this. when im really sick? i make chicken soup for myself. i go to the store for myself. i maybe find a ride to the doctors and mabe get lucky the pharmacy is there too so i dont have to ride the bus.when i feel like everything is chaotic? i return to cats. 

but hey - i’m going to be a “stronger, smarter” person right? thats what it all boils down to. lacking soo much will somehow make me stronger and smarter than the next person who already has these things. doesnt that seem so dumb? to me, i just worked 10x as hard to get to the same place that someone else did with half the work. but im “stronger and smarter” for the effort. i think you’re wiser and more resilient. because you become wise through experience and knowledge of the experience - but you can still be dumb as hell. you arent stronger - you just learned to put up with more; that’s resilience. you couldn’t use resilience like you could use strength. it just means you didnt give up. 

and thats not a negative but when you place it in this light i think it conjures a different respect for the lack of priviledges that it takes to reach “wiser and more resilient’. 

right now im really.... alot of things. i feel sad and angry and frustrated and bitter and envious. im trying to respect other peoples journeys but its leaving me really fucking alone. i told him i was leaving and he said bye. that could very well be our last personal encounter and i guess i appreciate that i left it as is. instead of trying to shape it into something it wasnt going to be, i just accepted that this was the choice he was making. of course, its easier to leave when you disconnect from someone/the things around you. 

i personally feel that this is the end of the relationship and my expectation is that he’ll be gone in the next 24 hours. i think i would prefer to leave our last encounter as this. although he “asked” multiple times how i was feeling or why i didnt feel good - i knew that he wasnt even the person to be talking to about it. how could i explain any of this to him? he has really not understood it and its doubtful he ever will. i expect nothing from him now - maybe i did before. maybe i wanted to have something real with him, like how we pretended to have. and i guess he showed his ‘support’ but like - youre leaving anyways. what happens when youre gone? does it matter? 

i cant ask these questions because theyre already answered. nothing happens, life goes on. you got what you got for the time being, be grateful. 

its not just him i feel this way with - i actually feel this way with multiple people ive been around. i cant talk about these things beacause it implies they dont care. and they do care otherwise they wouldnt have given me a ride or a sandwhich or bus change or sat wth me for an hour or smoked me some weed. BUT NONE OF IT MATTERS TO My ACTUAL LIFE. when you give a homeless man a dollar, do you think you just changed his life? like you changed 5 minutes before he had to go ask for another dollar from someone else because not a single person wants to give him actual legitimate help. just smile and nod. 

ths morning his mother literally shut the garage door on me. i have no idea how she did not hear the door open or the garage door open standing 10 ft away but she literally shut the door and i sat in the dark. i said nothing because no one cares. 

and he bitchs and moans about all these things and its like hes just discovering no one cares  and his solution is to also stop caring for anyone but himself. and its like he doesnt even see this because hes ‘going to get better and help so many people’ but hes not. he literally is not. and its infruiating that he cant even signficiantly benefit one persons life and his solution to this is to stop any attempts and focus just on himself before i guess inviting the world in. 

am i not fucking worthy or deserving? i’m not some runaway kid. i’m not a fucking drug addict. i’m not a single mom. if not me, then who deserves to benefit? i guess everyone above. you know, i didnt add to everyone being fucking dead and deserted with severe trauma and ptsd and little coping skills by taking hard drugs and fucking strange men. i didnt have unsafe sex. but i guess i should have so i could have the attention that other people seem to get for these acts. i stayed “strong” and “smart” and i’m alone and struggling. i guess i deserve to be. 

when i say this its not like i want people to immediately become my family and do all this shit with me and include me an talk to me all waking moments. i want this person who has been in my life but has remained in a neutral position by their own decision to remain neutral as i express the lonliness that i feel being in this position instead of take it personal or trying to make me be optimistic about it. i am sitting with a person and still expressing this - optimism is not what i need. nor do i need to argue that this person hasnt fulfilled the needs i have when they consider themselves a ‘friend”. to be a friend now is to remain in the position youve already taken and allow me the space to now be myself - this sucks. its hard. when i speak, no one is really listening. when i need someone, i have to wait until “a good time” which could be days. and its not just one person. if this one person was doing this - fine. it’s sad but bareable. it’s so many encounters that i feel like im in highschool floating through the halls unnoticed. i have no significance or importance to anything. and its not like oh god i have to be loved and have attention but like theres litereally none. there is zero. nothing. 

thats when “anything” looks better than nothing and you get stuck in even shittier situations.