#which is why it’s hard to see thrown around I want to care about people

[spookykestrel]

Aaaaaaaaaaaaah stop with the “ I’m gonna kill myself” jokes stop ! it’s the whole don’t make self deprecating jokes thing except worse ! just bc you abbreviate it doesn’t make it better it’s hard to respond to what do you want me to say do you want me to call suicide hotline then ?? depression and mental health is hard and coping is hard you make jokes about it but sometimes !! the things you joke about are real and can affect people and I’m tired of it just being thrown around so casually

[miya-rin]

“what the fuck do you two think youre doing?”

shit, you think, you didnt notice the balcony door had been slid open until you heard the voice of one of your brothers. you start to pull away from suna’s lips which earns you a small whine from his end, his grip tightens around you and honestly it its quite cute the way he is trying so hard to savour the moment. “come back later, we’re kinda busy.” the boy mutters before trying to move your face away from the distraction so that he can kiss you once more.

“suna you get your hands off of her right now, i dont give a fuck that its your birthday.” osamu pipes up, he looks furious and a little bit disgusted, if it hadnt been for the situation youre in right now you would think its kind of funny.

“samu lay off him, it was a mutual agreement, im just as guilty as he is ok?” that does not seem to help the boys understand, if anything they seem even more angry with you both.

“what the fuck do you mean it was a mutual agreement? are you two hooking up or something? yn he just turned 18 a few hours ago are you forgetting that?” atsumu says, he is rambling on with every excuse he can think of as to why this is “so wrong”, from the corner of your eye you can see suna trying so very hard to hide the grin that is creeping its way onto his face, his hands still all over you despite the fact that you arent alone anymore.

“listen, it was his birthday wish ok? i swear it didn’t mean anything,” sunas grip begins to loosen ever so slightly, “i just though it would get him off my back and get him over his little crush on me.” suna’s facial expression shifts but you choose to ignore it, you have bigger problems to deal with at the moment.

“no this is not ok, how would you feel if me or samu kissed one of your friends because it was their birthday wish?”

“that’s different, why would my friends want to kiss either of you?”

“excuse me? ill have you know that many women want to kiss me! and dont think youre getting off the hook either suna, ill make sure you never-“ you dont even want to hear the threat that is about to come out of his mouth, you just want to get out of this shitty situation.

“boys please, just give us five minutes to talk and then we will be back inside ok? i promise.” your efforts to plead with your brothers finally work.

“…fine,” atsumu mumbles, “but this better be a one time thing. im not gonna deal with you two being all lovey dovey around me.” and with that he lightly tugs on osamu’s sleeve, signalling him to walk back inside and continue the party. he closes the balcony door but not before bringing two fingers up to his eyes and then pointing them at the two of you. its a warning.

you turn back to suna and notice the sad look on his face - he looks kinda cute like this, “so, what do-“.

“did you really mean what you just said to them?” the poor boy looks heartbroken, after waiting three years to finally have a chance with the girl he loves wants the moment is ruined like that? “did you actually just do that so i would leave you alone?” his hands fully leave your body now and he takes a step back to put some distance between you two.

“well i mean sort of yeah… ive never looked at you in any way other than my brothers best friend if im going to be honest, i dont know if thats because of the age difference or what but ive never thought we could be anything.” the look of hurt is prominent on his face no matter how hard he tries to hide it, normally playful banter would have been thrown back and forth between the two of you but rintarou just stays silent, an indication that youve fucked up.

“listen suna i dont know what you want me to say, i wasnt really thinking when i said that to atsumu it just came out. i am 4 years older than you and many people would not approve of us if i decided to give you a chance.”

“who cares? i could treat you so right if you would just let me. i have waited entirely too long for this moment, all im asking for is one date.”

“you said that about the kiss too, one thing is never enough with you is it? you always need more.” a playful smile creeps onto your face which is outshined by the one on sunas, he knows that your smile means that you agree to go on a date with him.

“i really hope you arent fucking with me right now, that would be so cruel, especially on my birthday.”

“oh give the birthday excuse a rest now will you? you dont need to keep on at me you have already got what you want.”

“mhm i absolutely have,” he walks closer and once again wraps his arms around you, placing a hand under your jawbone to make you look up at him, “and i couldnt be happier.” he states as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss once more <3

[spooky-bunnys]

So I'm bad with this thing, but I wanted to request a bonten where their husband is an omega only different from the others, as he is not sensitive and he orders bonten to obey (imagine him ordering him around in a meeting and random leaders are outraged by an omega ruling bonten) sorry for my english, i'm not of the english language

Title: I am Bonten

Fandom: Tokyo Revengers

Pairing: Bonten x O!Male Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Weapons, and Sexist Assholes.

Bonten was tired of this meeting already. The only thing going through most of their heads. They left their gorgeous Omega in their bed, for this meeting? It was all they could think about. It was only a matter of time before two things happen.

Either Mikey gets tired of the meeting and snaps, or (Name) comes in. The excutives didn't care which happened. They were just ready for the meeting to end. All they wanted to do was eat (Name)'s delicious food and finish the multiple piles of paperwork that was waiting on the Omega's desk.

Since their Omega was their assistant after many fails. They had their mate become their assistant and its made Bonten's work easier for them. Which made their lives easier if they were being honest. Since they finally had an assistant that wasn't just trying to sleep their way to the top. But also wasn't afraid to put them in their place.

As the company leader in front of them cleared his throat, probably to get their attention since it looked like almost nobody was paying attention. The door to the meeting room was kicked open. While Bonten didn't jump, knowing who it is and very used to the action. Their guest was not expecting the interruption.

Which lead to (Name) almost getting shot, if he hadn't already started making his way over to Bonten. But from what the excutives could tell, someone messed up. Most we're willing to bet it was one of the three idiots. "OI! Haruchiyo!" Said male perked up only to have the collar of his shirt grabbed. (Name) yanked Sanzu from his seat and glared at him.

The other members quietly laughed at his facial expression. Very quietly so they wouldn't get on their Omega's bad side again. "Why was in when I came into work expecting finished paperwork on my desk, I see the others have finished some paperwork. But nothing from you? As Bonten's second your supposed to set an example. Not FUCKING GOOF OFF!"

As (Name) shook Sanzu violently. The other watched like this was an everyday thing. Which is probably was true with how much Sanzu avoids his paperwork. Before (Name) knew it he was forcibly removed from Sanzu and thrown to the ground. The excutives jumped up to help but Mikey raised his hand.

Mikey of all people knew what happened if someone puts their hands on (Name). As someone who knew (Name) from his childhood, he knew how (Name) was raised. (Name) was an Omega not to be tried with. He'd learned the hard way how different he was from other Omega's.

(Name) glared at the towering figure and slowly got up. "Excuse you. But what the hell do you think you're doing putting your hands on me?" The air in the room immediately grew cold. The company chuckled. "You're excused Omega. Now leave so we can continue this meeting." (Name)'s glare hardened. "No. Get out."

The company leader busted out in laughter. "An Omega like you can't make us leave!" (Name) practically snarled. As he tried stepping closer to the peader only for the same male from earlier to get in his way. Making (Name) snap.

Bonten watched with smirks as (Name) threw the guard to the ground. They loved when (Name) got like this. It reminded them why they loved him so much. (Name) quickly took care of the other guards. After the last guard was down, (Name) stalked towards the leader. The Company leader looked furious as (Name) got into his face.

"I told you to get out. That was me being nice. Now," (Name) pulled out a gun and held it under the leader chin. "Either you leave and take your guys with you, or I blow your brains on the wall and your guys go to the basement." He pressed the gun harder. "You're choice bitch."

Mikey motioned the guys forward. Sanzu carefully wrapped his arms around (Name)'s waist while whispering something into his ear and kissed his neck. While making direct eye contact with the leader. (Name) huffed and pulled the gun away and growled. "Fine. Get this asshole out of my building."

The leader scoffed while ribbing his chin. "Your building?! This building belongs to Bonten!" (Name) with a straight face pulled down the collar of his turtle neck. Showing not only a bite mark, but in the middle of the bite was a tattoo. Bonten's tattoo to be exact. "I AM Bonten. Now leave while I'm still in a good mood."

Sanzu nodded to the others who got the guests to leave. Once they were gone, Sanzu turned (Name) around and gave him a sweet kiss. "Do you know how much we love you?" (Name) stares at him. "A lot. Do you know how much paperwork you need to do?" Sanzu stared. "Is it a lot?" (Name) nodded and Sanzu groaned. Laying his head on (Name)'s shoulder.

[thatnonameuser]

Yelloow!! popping in!!!~~ I've seen Dorms, Grim and Staff as Yandere types.... But what of Neige(Vil's Rival), Chenya, and Rollo??~

I know that there are different takes from different kinds of Yandere AU's -- but out of curiosity, I wish of your take!

Let’s do the RSA boys first. 

Royal Sword Academy has a reputation for accepting the ‘princely’ yanderes. Unlike the NRC students, they don’t tend to act on violence unless they have to and their red flags aren’t as bad in comparison. 

But a red flag is still a red flag. 

RSA teaches more gentle ways of pushing darlings to their yanderes. Specifically while they use kidnappings, potions and the works, they use their affection as ball and chain to make sure leaving them is impossible. 

They’re taught to become friends first, and then start being more and more oppressively clingy. To slowly break down the darling’s defenses and walls, and leave them weak to their affection with the power of friendship, love and complete and utter manipulation. 

But it’s not manipulation, it’s being a loving partner.

Chenya’s a bit of unpredictable yandere. He’s a hard read but he’s clingy and a stalker. Chenya’s not overbearing at first. He’s friendly, cryptic but friendly, and then you’ll start to notice him around more and more. Which you might get worried about when he starts to pop up more and more in a school full of people who hate RSA. But he’ll just keep popping up and since your friends, why worry? 

Thanks to his magic, it is very easy for him to vanish and appear as quickly as the wind. So following you around is easy as pie, and with his aforementioned cryptic behavior, it will be quite difficult for you to understand his intentions. Kidnapping you would be a breeze for him, one moment you’re there and the next you're stuck with him forever and ever. 

But with Chenya, you probably won't see the threat of danger till you're too lost to figure your way out. On the brightside, you might like it. Maybe.

Neige LeBlanche ( I am a big BIG fan of the most innocent and gentle seeming people being the most manipulative motherfuckers. So…) is yandere that was actually misdiagnosed as a darling. Neige’s sweet, kind and gentle behavior in his youth lead to his misdiagnosis, and as a yandere he is a mix of delusional and manipulative. Delusional, he believes in true love and happy endings. Finding the perfect partner for his happy ending is a dream for him. (The man thinks of Vil as a friend, he’s deluded plain and simple) But while his delusions fuel his love for you, his manipulative ways can keep you there with no choice. Among the darling child stars of Twisted, Neige held quite the crown back when he was misdiagnosed, and no one can deny darlings anything (minus freedom). His demeanor is so well-meaning that any manipulative behavior is considered to be him just being a good friend or partner. He’s oppressively clingy too, and his manipulation makes sure that the people he cares about are always close. 

For this AU, Neige is a platonic yandere for Vil, and has purposely been sabotaging his casting so that Vil always and only performs with him. 

He’s the kind of yandere that wouldn’t risk killing someone to make you unhappy, but that’s not to say that his fans wouldn’t try to beat his rivals into the ground to protect dear sweet Neige. Neige is aware of how devoted his fans are to him, and he’ll use that to manipulate you, using the pressure to keep you with him, wouldn’t want them to be unhappy, would you?

Noble Bell College has a history with yanderes like many others, but its view on the yandere darling relationship is much different to the rest of the world, and many in Fleur City agree with it. Specifically, that yanderes are the ones in the wrong for their uncontrollable desires and the darlings are…. Well…. Darlings are the embodiment of purity. They haven’t done a single thing wrong to be thrown into this dirty world and yet here they walk amongst the selfish and licentious. But the darlings are not immune to the temptations of the dirty world, and can be lured into danger.

Most, if not all the yanderes at NBC believe that their desires are wrong yet impossible to beat without their darlings. And they all believe that darlings are pure, but in need of salvation from the dirty world. The Righteous Judge had a darling himself, a romani that had fallen for the dirty world’s enchanting song, who he saved and brought her to salvation. (Sure she wasn’t happy about it and the flaming pyre she’d nearly died on was purposely left out of the history books but hey, happy ending?)

Students in NBC are taught that sometimes force is needed to help darlings save themselves from the wretched world. And they won’t be happy about it, it’s for the best. For their salvation. 

Rollo Flamme is a worshiper yandere with a guilty conscience. A devout believer of the ‘darlings are the purest things to be born of this sinful earth’, Rollo has faithfully believed that, and even magical darlings cannot receive his ire because he believes that they had been tempted by its power, thanks to this world’s filth, and need to be saved. 

When it comes to you, a magicless darling not from this sinful, magical world, you rest highest on the podium of purity in his eyes. And because of that, you need to be saved from it, and those who intend to tempt and sully you. 

As for the guilty conscience part….To make adjustments for the AU, I’m making Rollo’s younger brother a darling. But because of how it happened being ambiguous at the time, Rollo was never punished, but this is why he is so protective over you specifically because magic could tear you away from him like his brother. 

In Rollo’s eyes, his darling is the purest thing in the world and if he needs to sully his own hands in every way to rid the world of the filth trying to tempt and defile you all so you can be lead to salvation and the safety of his arms, he’ll do it.

[riverbutghost]

Why?

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Simon made it clear that he disliked you. But after you were captured by the enemy, he decided that was far from the truth.

Warnings: Military stuff (wounds, blood etc.), Slight sexual themes, violence, detailed descriptions of torture but not too much. (I don’t know if I’ve missed anything else. The italics are flashbacks btw.

Masterlist

“Ты говоришь на русском языке?” do you speak Russian?

You tried to catch your breath while the two men were talking in Russian. A cold water was thrown at you.

“посмотри на нее, она такая американка. я чувствую его запах.” He scrunched up his face and looked at you with disgust. look at her, she’s so American I can smell it.

“Aren’t you going to beg, my dear?” He patted your head a little while smiling like a maniac. The Russian accent was so strong that you asked yourself if you knew Russian.

“Aww, she’s such a cutie with a crying face. I love making little girls cry.”

Your face scrunched up and you looked down, not letting them see your tears anymore. It was embarrassing for you, a soldier who was known for her strong facade on the field. But only on the field, they used to say. You smile a lot, lass, Soap used to say. Now you wondered if you were going to see him again.

“Well, either way we will keep you until you die, sweetheart. Take care, Милая.” darling.

The other man smirked and they both got out of the room.

You couldn’t remember what had happened, but you were taken by the Russians.

Your head was pounding and the punch you received from the guy who had called you disgusting pet names was dreadful.

You wiggled your arms, wiggled your neck but no. They weren’t even ropes. They were metal bars. They had pinned your arms, legs and neck to a metal bar.

You were sure you were going to die here.

Suddenly, you remembered your lieutenant’s words from earlier.

He had said, “don’t leave my side. I didn’t want you in the first place but they gave you to me so do as I say. Also, I don’t want to hear you chitchat.”

It hurt you a little, pinched your already broken heart. But you knew better than getting sad. He was Ghost, always mean, always bored. He only joked around with Soap, which was a rare sight. You promised to yourself that whatever he would say, you were going to befriend him. But that didn’t end up like that.

It was rare for you. Usually you would get along with anyone, but Ghost was different. From the beginning, he would always make you feel small, making little comments about how you had a big mouth and he knew how to shut it and blah blah blah which made your face flush.

You were starting to get him though. Or so you thought.

-

“You know I don’t care what you say, right?”

Your shoulders slumped a little. But your smile came back.

“Well, I don’t care either. That makes us a good team.”

You smiled at him sweetly. Like a child who got what they wanted. He gripped the folders harder.

“Stop smiling and get these papers to Price.”

You kept smiling and took the papers from him.

“We will be friends eventually, sir.”

“I hope not.” He mumbled, making you chuckle a little.

-

You were always hurt after talking to him, but sucked it up eventually.

He had his issues. He knew better to trust a new soldier. But you were insistent. He was insistent either.

“Are you okay?”

He tensed at you sudden voice, eyes dropping at your soft tone.

“Yes, is there a problem?”

You bit your cheek.

“Why are you so persistent about this?”

He was taken aback by your question. He turned towards you, his skull mask was on.

“What?”

You gripped your blade harder. It was one of those ‘nightmare’ nights. You couldn’t sleep and thought it would be easier to clean your blades. You should’ve known better.

“You try so hard to ignore me or shut me up.”

His eyes were staring right at yours and you felt the need to remove your eyes from his.

“I don’t like bubbly people. And you talk too much, my ears can’t take it anymore.”

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“You’ll like me eventually-“

His sharp breath shut you up instantly.

“Why do you act like everyone likes you? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

You were taken aback by his sudden harsh words. You opened your mouth to speak, again thinking you were going to make him like you. So you said the thing that came to your mind to stop him from breaking your heart more.

“Chill dude-“

You were flushing. What the fuck was ‘chill dude’ ?

“Don’t” He stopped for a second. “don’t ‘chill dude’ me. I’m your superior and you will respect me. Understood?”

You felt your body freeze. He was making it so hard, so hard to befriend him.

“Ghost-“

“Sir, you’ll call me sir from now on.”

You looked down at you hands, trying to find something to look at.

“Yes sir.” You mumbled eventually and got up, scoffing at the tears which were threatening to fall down.

-

You still remembered the stinging feeling his words had caused you.

You stopped trying to be one of his mates. You stopped talking near him. This made everyone question why, but never asked because Ghost was never in the mood to talk.

.

Simon thought about the last time he had cared about anything. He couldn’t remember.

But you, you…

You were like a rainbow after a terrible storm. Your smile could lit up the whole world. And after just one look at your face, he knew he should distance himself and not get close to you.

But you had other plans.

After your first mission, he was sure he would get lost looking at you smile.

-

“How is your leg, sir?”

You asked him with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

“Fine.” He grumbled, voice vibrating through his chest. Your cheeks started getting pinker and he cursed himself.

“Can you get out and call the nurse?”

Your smile wavered a little and you finally turned around. You mumbled under your breath, he figured you were hurt by his words.

“No need to be rude, Lieutenant.”

He couldn’t help it though. You were a ball of happiness and he was overwhelmed. He couldn’t help himself.

He regretted it, but still said nothing.

-

You didn’t shut up. Ever.

Even if he said the most hurtful comment, you would still forget about it and smile at him. He sometimes questioned your ability to be happy all the time. It was a gift, he was sure.

You were a gift. He wasn’t religious at all, but after seeing you for the first time, he was sure you were a gift from above.

He fucked it up.

He should be relieved, but no. He was angry at himself for attacking you in a sort of fucked up way.

He was using his fucked up mentality to push you away, but he knew better.

Deep down, he knew why he was treating you that way. But he wouldn’t let anyone know this. Not even himself.

“We have to do something, y’know?”

Simon pushed his thoughts away and looked at his superior.

“Yeah, no shit.”

Price pressed his lips harder than usual.

“I interrogated them, they say different things.”

Simon pulled his mask down and got up. He turned towards Price.

“Then maybe you should let me interrogate them.”

Price gave a long and sharp breath.

“What will we have if you kill them?”

Simon furrowed his eyebrows. You don’t understand, he wanted to say.

“What do we have, then?” He gave up for the sake of finding you.

“4 locations, Soap searched them. They are all Russians’ and we have to be quick.”

They were more then ready to find their little sunshine. But Simon was stressed, he was freaking out.

They got ready, hopped on their truck and the mission was started.

-

You weren’t okay.

You were far from being okay.

“Oh, look at her. So sad no one is coming for you?”

You clenched your jaw, immediately regretting it because of the massive headache.

“Speak when I ask you a question, got it ?”

A noise came from your neck at the sudden blow to your cheek.

“Let’s get rid of these bars,”

Your neck suddenly fell down after the metal bar opened. You couldn’t find the strength to look at them.

He gripped your hair and jerked your head to him.

Another guy kicked your abdomen, making you whimper in pain.

“Bastards!”

The guy gripped your hair harder and smacked the back of the gun to your head.

You unintentionally whimpered again.

“What was that? You little pig.”

You were sure there was an internal bleeding in your abdomen.

“That’s enough brother, let’s eat.”

The guy kicked you again in the abdomen and the metal bars opened.

You fell down from your chair.

Your vision was blurry, you were sure you wouldn’t survive in two days. It has been so long, so long.

They were coming, you knew it. Deep down, you were wondering if Ghost was finally relieved. No one was talking his head off or cracking dirty jokes now. Was he keeping them away so you would die alone here?

You closed your eyes, shaking the ridiculous thoughts.

You were tired, so you let yourself go.

-

“Hey, be fuckin’ quiet!”

Soap gulped and apologized at his Lieutenant. He was extra angry today.

“Sir, what if she’s already dead? This would be a suicide mission then.”

Simon turned towards the recruit.

“Shut your mouth and do what you’re told, kid.”

The soldier fell silent after that. They knew better to piss Ghost off.

“Okay, get ready. In three, two… one!”

Shots were suddenly fired. The Russians were not expecting this, at this hour especially. They were on edge, but their superiors were busy having dinner.

“I’ll look inside!”

Ghost shouted, immediately followed by Soap.

The two got in, killed the guards.

It had been a fucking week, and Ghost felt pathetic to hear your voice. It effected him more than he thought it would.

“Fuck, Soap, I’m going downstairs .”

Soap nodded and returned his killing.

Ghost kept his steps low, head raised high in confidence. He pushed through everything in front of him, trying to save his pain in the ass.

He pushed every door, even broke the locked ones down.

There you were, laying on the ground. Looking dead, but your back was slightly moving up and down.

He immediately scanned the room, with nothing he rushed to get you out of there.

He kneeled on his knees and turned you around carefully.

“Sir?”

He breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’re strong, sergeant.”

You smiled a little. He checked your injuries’ severity and got you on his back.

“I didn’t think I would- uh- be alive to be honest.”

Simon furrowed his eyebrows.

“Bite your tongue, Sergeant. You’re one of the strongest soldiers i’ve ever met.”

You smiled a little again. Proudly you closed your eyes.

“Stay, yeah? Don’t want you to die on me, gonna get in trouble because of you.”

Your smile faltered. Here you were, naive little girl.

“Right.”

He knew he fucked up again. But his first mission was get you out of there safely.

You whimpered at the sudden pain in your abdomen.

“What’s wrong?”

Your arms tightened around his neck, not enough to hurt him.

“Hurts-“

A sudden explosion made you two flew into a wall. Ghost groaned and quickly grabbed his gun. He looked around for you.

Everything was happening too quick for his liking. He reloaded his gun and jumped up to his feet.

“No…”

He fired his gun nonstop at the men, who were trying to shoot both of you. He was actually scared for the first time.

He reached to his comm.

“Soap, fuck- come downstairs!”

He swung his gun to the man beside him and rushed to your side. He lifted you bridal style and turned his back on the men.

“Fuck,”

A bullet pierced his shoulder. He eventually put you down behind a desk, flipping the desk over to cover you.

Soap, Gaz and Price came into his view and he relaxed all of a sudden.

“Ghost?!”

Ghost put his arm up behind the desk to show them where you were.

“Are you hurt? You’re bleeding.” Gaz looked at him in concern.

“Oh, so I’m not hurt then.”

Ghost scoffed at Gaz and picked you up. Gaz rolled his eyes.

“Let’s get you two to the heli.” Price tried to pick you up, but Ghost mumbled something and pulled you to him.

“Ghost-“

Ghost brushed him off.

“Let’s go.”

It had been a week.

After multiple surgeries, you were in intensive care for give days.

The internal bleeding had caused you to lose consciousness and when you woke up in the heli, you vomited blood. On Ghost.

Ghost felt his heart beat faster at that because for a second, he thought you were dying.

You didn’t.

You were awake but still in bed. Soap came to your visit, Gaz did, Price did, even Alejandro did but Ghost didn’t.

You received a lot of gifts from recruits which made you smile. But something else was occupying your mind.

You wondered if Ghost was okay. Soap told you he was shot, said it was nothing for him.

You got up to a sitting position. Immediately holding your abdomen, you cursed. It still hurt like a bitch.

You stood up from the bed and checked the nurse. She wasn’t there so you took the chance to escape from your prison.

You were in a white oversized sweatshirt and nothing else. You weren’t wearing a bra and you thanked the nurse.

You pushed the doors open. You had forgotten the sweaty smell of the hallways. You missed it.

“What are you doing? Go back to bed.”

You flinched at your nurse’ tone and turned around to her.

“I feel good, Amanda. Please,”

Amanda sighed then nodded, allowing you to leave.

“I didn’t see you, then.”

You chuckled a bit and left.

Your mission was now to find your Lieutenant. Ghost. Simon. You never tried to call him by his actual name, knowing his temper and dislike towards you.

You felt nauseous all of a sudden. You didn’t want to find him, you didn’t want to feel unwanted and alone again. Even though your other teammates were always there for you, you wanted him. Why? You didn’t know. Or didn’t want to admit.

You took a deep breath, forgetting about your abdomen.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You held your abdomen and mumbled curses.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

You froze and licked your lips. That wasn’t the scenario you thought it would be. You turned to your side.

“Hi, sir.”

You smiled at him through your pain.

He was wearing his balaclava, his eyes red. You wondered why, then remembered he was shot.

“Are you okay Ghost? I heard that you were shot.”

You took a step forward. He took a step back. You pressed your lips together.

“I’m fine. Go back to bed.”

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“No.”

Ghost looked straight at your eyes, his bloodshot eyes looked concerning.

“Do as I say, sergeant.”

You shook your head. Not today.

“I’m okay. I wanted to see if you were okay too.”

Ghost’s eyes left yours for a second. He looked down at your abdomen.

“You’re going to open your stitches.”

Your head fell to your side slightly. He looked at you again.

“Are you, okay?” You punctuated for him to understand what you were trying to say.

He sighed.

You took four more steps towards him until you were chest to chest.

He looked defeated.

“I am.” He answered your question, eyes flickering between your mouth and your eyes.

“Can I look at your shoulder? It’s bleeding.”

Ghost furrowed his eyebrows and looked at his shoulder. He knew he shouldn’t be working out in this condition.

“Please let me help, Simon.”

His breath hitched a little, but you heard.

With a newfound courage, you took his hand and lifted it slightly with a cloud-like touch.

“I’m sweaty .” He looked at your eyes.

“It’s okay.” You smiled at him. His eyes traveled all over you and suddenly, he took your hand and started dragging you.

You gasped in shock, but didn’t say a thing. He was acting strange, you didn’t mind it.

Ghost opened the door to his room and after pulling you in, he closed the door.

“What now?” He asked out of breath. You flushed a little.

“Uhm, well. I’ll get your med kit.”

He nodded and showed you the place. He sat down onto his bed.

You came with the medkid, a little shyly.

“Take off your shirt.”

He gulped. You didn’t mean to sound so authoritatively. You helped him by lifting his arm slightly then took off the shirt.

Holy shit, you thought. He was ripped. You cleared your throat and opened the medkit.

“Just try not to move your arm.” He nodded.

You were working on his arm, but his eyes were on you. You shuddered a little feeling goosebumps all over your body. He smirked under his mask.

“I’ve never seen your face.”

“I know?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah no shit. Are you going to show me?”

He shook his head. You pursed your lips in a mock sadness.

But you felt your body freeze as he pulled your bottom lip.

You swallowed hard, forgetting about his wound. He groaned, sound vibrating through his chest. You were melting.

“Oh God, sorry.”

He pulled you on his lap, pulling your legs apart with his hand. You gasped again, feeling a sensation in your lower parts.

“Ghost-“

“Hm?”

You took a deep breath and averted your eyes from him to focus on his wound.

Quickly cleaning it up then bandaging it, you looked at him.

“I’m going to wash my hands.”

He got up with you on his lap. His hands were on you thighs and your legs were hugging his waist.

“What are you doing?”

“Never letting you go.”

You licked your lips, they suddenly felt dry.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for the way I treated you. But fuck, you are something else. Fucking pain in the ass.”

You chuckled a little and he dropped you near the sink.

“Stay with me?”

You dried your hands then turned around. He was hovering over you, and you liked it.

“Let’s sleep.”

He gulped then grabbed you up in a rush.

“Ow, be careful you ass.”

He put you on to the mattress.

“Let me make it feel good, yeah?”

All of the playfulness left your face after he had said that.

“Oh fuck.”

[burquillos]

I’d love to hear your thoughts on the final MHA chapter because the internet seems to be very divided

I waited till MHA officially ended! Long post ahead!! People being divided on the ending makes sense. Different people come to watch shows and read comics for very different reasons and with very different expectations for an ending in mind. Especially for a series like MHA which is a battle manga that seeks to subvert shonen genre tropes.

I think part of the reason why people are so divided on it right now is because of leak culture and reaction culture. People have to remember that comic books and manga are a storytelling medium. The author actually thinks about the arrangement of the panels, what’s in the panels, and how the combination of these things can form a narrative. Reading it from twitter thread/discords from people in a rush to translate to get the information to you as fast as possible is NOT the intended way to experience the story.

The “leak format” kind of encourages people to put too much focus on certain panels and roughly translated text that would otherwise feel very different when you are reading the story through the intended medium, and when you pair that with the highly reactive way people ‘consume content’ nowadays, the result is a snowball of very volatile emotions being thrown around without a moment for people to breathe, think, and wonder for themselves “Why did the author write it like this? Was there something I missed? How does this re-contextualize story? Have I actually missed the point this whole time?” etc.

That being said, I sort of have a philosophical way of approaching MHA?? When I got back to it again, I was hyper-critical of it especially because I just came back from reading One Piece (and the writing styles and messages are VERY different). I slowly learned to judge the writing for what it is rather than keep comparing it to other series and I learned it was more enjoyable to experience the story like that.

The ending is a very hard pill to swallow for a lot of people which is understandable, but it didn’t come out of nowhere. I mean, just look at the ending lines of "Do Not Be Defeated by Rain", the poem that inspired Deku’s character:

I am also a stubbornly optimistic person, and my number one rule is never to engage with anything in bad faith. I CHOOSE to see hope through the margins and the final chapter being so open to potential encourages that thinking of mine.

So even though I think there are some things that could be handled better (the villains) and storylines I WISH were explored (OFA vestiges my beloved) there’s no reason why it couldn’t be fixed.

There is this openness to it that leaves so much room for hope and imagination that I can’t truly be mad at it.

I might find MHA lacking as an entertainment piece, but I will defend it to the end as an artistic piece.

Horikoshi has said before that he doesn’t care if his manga is popular or not, MHA is basically a culmination of the stuff he enjoys, and I KNOW drawing whatever the hell you want despite knowing not everyone will like it takes a lot of guts and it’s what makes MHA so human.

All the traces of him are in there, flaws and everything, so you can endlessly turn it around, flip back and forth and there will be always something new to unpack, learn, and realize and the thought of what could've been will always haunt people (just like Star Wars, a series he also likes kajdbaldnlk)

[meo-eiru]

meru, i always did like elias but he really really has been growing on me lately and i just have so much appreciation for the way you crafted his character like it is legit so beautiful😭💔

there was this advertisement that used to play on tv when i was a kid, and i can't really remember what it was for or abt tbh, but it had this man that lived on the moon and everytime you post elias content i kinda just remember it somehow.

there's this sort of isolated air around him, all he has is his self and his darling, and even then — it's not like he can always keep them around, no matter how hard he tries. so he's kinda left there, stuck with himself so to say. someone he doesn't love, and in turn, struggles to see how anyone else can love. in his head 24 hours a day, thinking how he can use the only trait he has to his advantage.

i can imagine all those things eat him up little by little, which is why he's volatile at the slightest indication his darling could be losing interest. their stopping him from hurting himself, somewhere is soothing, like a headpat, bc it feels like they're telling him they still care despite all odds.

how does one recieve love they feel like they don't deserve? in a way, he builds a bubble around himself bc of that w/o knowing and then there's just this surmounting distance he doesn't know how to lessen. so man on the moon, staring at earth through his telescope everyday, but failing to feel its warmth bc though he revolves around it and monoplises the fact that he belongs in its orbit, he makes no move to get closer. constantly trapped in the thought that he is stuck where he is, and that place is an undesirable home.

idk know where i'm going with all this and i rambled a lot so you can just ignore it actually ahaha all i really wanted to say was that you're amazing and elias deserves quality hand-holding time😩💕

I LOVE THIS ASK!!!

You captured Elias as a character so so well.

Elias truly is like a miracle. People who used to ask me stuff about him should remember, he basically didn't have any story. I don't know if it was just sheer force of will, or if it was thanks to you guys, but he developed so much within these past few weeks he existed.

I've never seen the ad you mentioned but based on what you said it fits him so well. A lonely man who was thrown out of the bubble due to his biggest blessing, and keeping himself there without realizing.

So lonely, so desperate, so self aware yet too far gone to fix any of it. Thirsty for your love yet thinks he doesn't deserve it causing him to always be on edge. So contradictory, so unstable.

A man who so desperately yearns for your love, to feel alive, to know he exists, to know someone is seeing him. He doesn't care what happens to him in the progress, he just needs you and your love.

[carolmunson]

okay, since some of you asked for it:

unpopular opinion but i don’t actually think eddie was a nice soft boy at all. dustin and mike are literally afraid to ask him to move hellfire. ‘he’s always revved up,’ implying that he’s always like this, always a little close to snapping. he’s not nice to them when he asks them to find a replacement. he also guilt trips them about 'taking them in like lost sheep' and shoves them off to find a replacement instead of keeping lucas included. which is why i don't understand the 'fierce protector of his friends' take because he's so quick to drop lucas just because he's 'moved to the dark side.' aka, throwing balls into laundry baskets.

which leads me to when he gets up on the table, people are not trying to fuck around with him. this is a common occurance, people are not surprised to see him up there and yelling. they aren't surprised that he's making a spectacle of himself. if eddie was soft and sweet, he would’ve gotten beat up. if eddie was soft and gentle, he'd probably be scared of jason. guys like jason in the 80s loved being macho and punching out losers — eddie just gave him the devil horns and called it a day. eddie’s absolutely gotten in fist fights before and won (his dad is a literal criminal!) otherwise someone would've thrown something or told him to shut the fuck up. people are scared of him, even his own friends! there’s more reasons than just playing DND and metal that make town certain that he’s a cult leader. you don't just assume someone is a murderer if they haven't shown any interest in violence before, especially considering his dad was likely a shitty dude. he even bullies erica when she first shows up to hellfire and only respects her when she bullies him back and bests him. he is someone you have to EARN respect from. he will never respect anyone outright or be understanding outright. he doesn't fully respect dustin or mike to start either, he views them as underlings.

even chrissy assumes he's going to be mean and scary, there's gotta be reason behind that. he's not nice or kind in school, which is likely a defense mechanism. he’s sweet with chrissy because he likes her, he has a crush on her. it’s very clear that he has since he was a kid, otherwise why would he bring up them hanging out in middle school? why would he even remember that if he hasn’t been pining for her this whole time? he admits too, albiet flirtily, that he thought SHE'D be mean and scary too, because he doesn't like people 'like that', people he assumes are 'on the dark side'. i’m sure he hoped they’d kiss a little when she went to his trailer. he's even a little sarcastic when she's there, again, defensive. 'the maid took the week off'. but ultimately, he's nice to her because he wants to kiss her and has a crush on her. i don't think it's because he's fully 'showing her who he really is'.

also he's a literal drug dealer????? like?????

he only becomes more gentle and open with dustin and co. when he gets pulled into the upside down/vecna stuff because he needs support. they grow a bond over shared trauma. and i do believe eddie had a big brother type relationship with dustin, but just like steve he loves him begrudgingly 'i love you, you little shit bag' kind of shit. i do believe he liked and cared for his friends but i also think he always had a big layer of mean kid armor on because he had a hard life growing up. how i percieved the character is 'mean bully whose secretly nice but is mean and boisterous and loud as a cover' trope. when he explains that his father taught him to hotwire, he seems bitter about it. of course he is, all the other kids were learning to play ball. but he obviously still retains this information and a whole bunch of other crime tricks from his dad. he's BEEN partaking in this shit. he KNOWS he's a shitty guy. you don't just get taught how to hotwire once and then suddenly know how to do it years later. he's done it before! multiple times! he has practice! he likely knows about warzone cause his daddy absoLUTELY had a gun or two. his dad probably took him there once. he was pulled left and right into bad shit growing up and that will HARDEN YOU. wayne says that murder 'ain't in his nature' and i'm sure it's not. i'm sure he's different with wayne, but idk, to me, it doesn't erase the fact that outwardly, i don't think eddie was nearly as sweet and gentle as people think he is canonically. i think he's a very hardened and tortured person and that even becomes clear with his reaction to chrissy's death and how he goes about things going forward. he was a weird kid with weird interests in a cookie cutter conservative town, had a criminal father, and an unconventional family situation in the 70s and 80s, that shit'll fuck you up and over -- look at boomers y'all! they are emotionally stunted! but, i could go on forever with this character analysis. so i'll stop here. but -- in the words of the real housewives reunion meme: that's MY OPINION!

[escarlatellie]

here with you ; ellie williams. (4.5k.)

⤿ f!reader, college!au, drinking + kissing, fluff fluff fluff <3 lowercase is on purpose , was blasting ceilings by lizzy so excuse the title

⤿ you're invited to another one of dina's off-campus parties not long after finals, where you meet a pretty girl who miraculously knows your name. away from the hustle of the actual party, where people are plastered out of their minds and making a ruckus, you and this pretty stranger get to know each other a little and earn yourselves a place in the other's heart.

“if you want anything just let me know, okay?” 

dina’s hand is warm, splayed across your lower back as she guides you away from what had to be the noisiest place at the party. it’s no surprise she attracts such diverse groups of people, given her gregarious personality and hard-to-overlook kind of beauty.

you would be lying if you said you hadn’t had a crush on her when you first met her; it’s dina, how could you not? thankfully, over maybe a year of getting to know her, you realized she wasn’t exactly your type and that she was far too head-over-heels for her on-and-off partner to even think about you. honestly, she never shut up about the guy.

“got it. thanks, dina.”

you definitely were not going to mention the almost completely assured possibility that you wouldn’t see her at all for the rest of the night. thing is, when you’re the host of parties like these, you tend to get thrown around a lot. though she doesn’t really seem to mind, since this is, at the very least, the fourth party you’ve been invited to since finals ended (which was around a month ago).

she hums passively at the acknowledgement, then gestures fluidly towards the rest of the room. there are a few people situated on her couch, a couple of them already putting on a show for the others while a few sit alone, sipping their drinks with reckless abandon. you’ve never gotten completely plastered at one of dina’s parties, always the type to stay back and help her clean up if she hasn’t passed out or gotten herself sick, but unsurprisingly, there are always those who’ll take any chance they can get.

“mi casa, su casa.” she sings, then she’s gone. 

left alone, you can handle yourself. why the hell would you come here if you couldn’t? you head towards what you remember to be the kitchen, but right now looks like a completely unprofessional bar complete with its own bartender—who you belatedly recognize to be jesse, dina’s on-and-off partner—in search of booze. 

said bartender nods at you when you catch his eye, pouring whatever’s on the table for tonight into a very typically red party cup—on the house, since you get special privilege—and sliding it over to the edge of the counter. whatever’s inside sloshes dangerously, threatening a mess which’d only add to the ugly stickiness of dina’s countertops, but you grab and take a whiff of it before it can tip over. 

“what, don’t trust me?” jesse ribs over the music—he speaks of your tentative sniff—, which is, as you’ve just realized, getting progressively louder. 

“if i say anything,” you mutter, which gets you his typical jesus christ, these people, kind of laugh and he leans back against the counter, right next to you. 

head crooked to the side slightly, you look him over. objectively, you can see why he and dina mesh so well; they’re both unbelievably attractive and complement each other’s personalities perfectly (from what you’ve seen, at the very least). their pretty much daily arguments aside, you can tell they love each other and only want the best for one another. that said, you can only imagine what’s running through his head right now.

“she’s not going to get shit-faced drunk,” he mutters, and that’s your cue to leave. you know he’s trying to console himself more than anything.

“no, she’s not.”, you respond in kind, patting his shoulder with just as much care as one would handle a two-hundred-pound gorilla, before pushing yourself up off the edge of the counter and walking out of the kitchen. god knows he could spend an hour sitting there talking about her; you’ve had enough of that for, quite literally, the rest of your life. 

the sole of your left shoe sticks to the ground a little as you walk, and you thank your past self for owning a strictly-for-parties pair of converse which were, sadly, a little too worn in for your own good. sneaking a glance into the main hall, you catch a glimpse of your best friend seated halfway up the stairs chatting with someone—maybe a senior? junior, at the very least—who’s got a guitar case slung over her shoulder and the most unruly head of short, auburn hair you’ve ever seen. 

dina’s gesturing wildly at the front door, likely having gotten into an argument with said stranger (except it looks far too fond to be serious), when the two of you make eye contact. her eyes are a strikingly pale kind of green, piercing through whatever weak defenses you’d put up for the night in a very relaxed fashion. she’s got this look on her face that screams uninterested, which is quickly swapped out for a look of rapt attention at your own once she realizes you don’t actually plan on looking away. 

because man, she’s hot.

it’s just then that a presumably tanked freshman crashes into you and spills the contents of whatever it is they were drinking all over you, effectively shattering whatever that was. really, you would be grateful for it—something to spare you the embarrassment of looking too interested in someone way out of your league—had there not been the undeniable presence of cool, once-iced liquor spilling down the front of your printed tee. 

“oh, fuck,” you curse, nearly missing their hurried apology before they barrel out the front door.

this wouldn’t be the first time. you sigh, reluctantly slipping away from all the noise, away from the pretty stranger, to deal with your problem. usually, you’d have an extra top shoved haphazardly into dina’s closet, something you could throw on in the worst-case scenario, but laundry day was just yesterday and all of your stuff was piled on your bed back home. already you could feel the liquor causing the shirt’s fabric to stick, leaving an icky, gross feeling that was begging to be cleaned up. the humidity from everyone’s breathing was not helping.

you set your cup down on a random table (never to be seen again) as you make your way to the bathroom. you wouldn’t be surprised to find the door locked, having been an unsuspecting party crasher one too many times in your first and some of your second year, but luckily the room’s unoccupied—not for long—and you slip in and lock the door behind you after waving off a concerned glance from jesse, who’s very slowly making his way to his girlfriend. no surprise there. 

“oookay, fuck.” you curse, flipping the light switch and nabbing a couple (a lot) of the mini towels out of dina’s probably way-too-expensive towel rack and pressing them to your front, hoping they’ll soak up some of the leftover moisture, at least save you from the mortification of showcasing to everyone your chest and abdomen.

it doesn’t really help.

again, not an irregular occurrence, so you’re not too worried; dina’s typical party etiquette has ensured that everyone here will leave you be and mind their own business. that doesn’t help your pride, but you concede to stepping back out and flipping the light switch off behind you as you make your way to the front.

this time, when you cross the main hall, dina’s gone and so is her friend. accompanying disappointment comes the ponderance of whether jesse found dina or not and if the pretty stranger has left, but you remind yourself you’ll find out later—probably near midnight when people start to filter out for the night and you’re tasked with cleaning up—, however frustrated that makes you, given the fact you’d lost a chance you probably never had in the first place. 

you pass a group of what look like sophomores playing beer pong against seniors—or maybe even graduates?—on your way out, and silently curse the growing pool of booze dripping on the floor right next to the table on your way outside.

the door is wide open, so being engulfed in cold air on your way outside is no surprise. luckily, the weather is calming down a little after a gruelling winter, so there’re only a couple of piles of leftover snow and the breeze doesn’t serve as an immediate freezer. however, your damp tee is anything but a savior and causes an eruption of a ton of goosebumps across the pane of your chest, stretching as far as your shoulders, which are only covered by the loose fabric of your top.

you’re not sure what you expect to see when you turn the corner to dina’s garage, but seeing her and her boyfriend sucking face is absolutely not it. dina’s got him pressed right up against the garage door, and you’re pretty sure that if jesse weren’t sober out of his mind he’d be giving into every single one of her wordless demands.

you slip past easily, far away enough to go by soundlessly and completely bypass the two’s freaky-ass sixth sense. the back gate is just as well-managed as the rest of the house and opens quietly, in no contrast to the backyard itself, which is empty and well-kempt. you know only you and a select few people are actually allowed into dina and her parents’ pretty backyard, so peace is expected and welcomed. the breeze is also blocked by the house, which is nice.

there are a couple of flowers blooming already, and their scent wafts through the air, bringing a natural sort of calm. the yard is illuminated by the house—light dances in beautiful patterns against the greens and greys that make up the garden—, but so is the relaxed silhouette of the same pretty stranger you saw less than ten minutes ago. this time, she’s hunched over in one of dina’s ugly bright-green lawn chairs with a guitar seated in her lap.

you consider her privacy and the fact that maybe she doesn’t want company right now or that she’s too busy with her music as you make your way over—aside from those ugly lawn chairs, really, there’s nowhere else to sit—but then banish your hesitancy with the acknowledgement that this is just as much a space for you as it is for her. 

the chair scrapes against the patio as you pull it out, just far away enough from the brunette to make yourself seem open and friendly, but respectful of her space. you worry the cheap plastic is going to snap beneath your weight as you sit down, but it holds well and serves as a final, much-needed resting spot for your already sore feet. once your rustling stops, you hear the gentle strum of a guitar and realize the girl hasn’t stopped playing.

you relax further into your seat. 

closer up now, you have the chance to really look at her. her hair’s pulled back now, half-up half-down, a lot less dishevelled than she’d been when you’d last seen her. 

looking lower, she’s wearing a low-cut short-sleeve and an unbuttoned flannel long-sleeve. skin-tight, ripped jeans line what look like toned thighs and spread legs, stained black and white converse completing the look. her fingers move deftly between frets, over strings, and you just barely catch the edges of a black and white tattoo peeking out from beneath her sleeve. she’s got really nice hands, you think, just as pretty as her face.

“i can feel you fuckin’ staring.” 

her tone is accusing, but not necessarily malicious or irritated; she doesn’t even look up at you when she says it, adjusting her guitar in her lap as she works at whatever she’s trying to play. her voice suits her, too, you think, and shift a little where you sit at the thought. 

“sorry. you’re really good at guitar.” you mutter, earning an amused chortle from the girl across from you. it’s a pathetic excuse—you’re well aware of your own unsubtlety—but there was something there, something between you two, not long ago, and you’re not just going to let it slip away. the alcohol’s got you pleasantly buzzed, and you’re sure that if you were a little soberer, you’d be embarrassed. 

“you think so?” 

she looks up now, a brow raised. you catch the slit in her right eyebrow, cocked slightly as her gaze rakes over you. she’s got this lilt to her voice that feels like it means trouble, however, it does nothing but pique your interest a little more. 

your response of “mhm. you play real nice.” earns you another glance over.

“i’ve seen you around a couple times. you’re a friend of dina’s, right?” she questions, looking between you and her instrument as she tunes what she seems to think is an out-of-tune string. her leg—the one which has the least contact with her guitar—bounces gently against the patio floor, and it takes you a second to realize she’s seen you around before and remembers you.

“yeah. best friend? i think? she likes to call it that.”, you joke, shoulders trembling slightly at the very unwelcome entrance of another breeze, carrying in the temperature from the front into the back. the sound of the stranger’s laugh is already addicting, especially when it feels genuine. that’s sometimes hard to come across, and you’re already starved for it even though you’ve been speaking to this girl for like, a minute.

“i’ll tell her you said that. shouldn’t she have an extra top for you or something?” 

“she does, usually. kinda forgot to leave a couple here.” you hum, pointedly ignoring the third glance over the girl’s given you since she’d first laid her eyes on you. her lips are pursed slightly, gaze trained wholly on your face whenever you speak yet it wanders when silence stretches between you two. her eyes are locked on something behind your head when she speaks again.

“are you two a..?” 

“thing? no, have you met jesse?”

“dina’s got a ton of other people that aren’t jesse, babe.”

your cheeks warm at the pet name, and you realize she’s right. dina’s had a couple of other flings outside of jesse; every time the two of them break up, she runs off to someone else before realizing she doesn’t want anyone but him. then, suddenly, without your permission, your mind wanders at the idea of someone wanting you the same way those two want each other. 

“no, we’re not,” you shake your head as she looks back at you. briefly, so momentarily, you question whether she actually likes girls or not—and if it seems like you do—so add a quick and easy-sounding, “think i liked her a year or so back, though.”

the stranger nods, and you’re suddenly hit with the fact that you don’t know her name. 

caught in your own head, you don’t register her leaning back in her seat, guitar following her movements, pressed right up against her abdomen. you do though, notice her shrugging her long sleeve off and balling it up in her free hand before it's carelessly thrown your way. your rapt attention towards her movement is pretty much the only reason you were able to catch it; it’s warm from her own body heat in your cold hands. it’s pretty obvious what she wants you to do with it, but you wouldn’t want to impose so you just stare at it.

“put on the damn sweater. it’s cold.”, she mutters, and you can’t help but bite back a smile at her tone; what was likely intended to come across as gruff and demanding sounds pleading and mildly concerned. you unravel the garment and pull your arms through the sleeves, a clean, earthy scent enveloping your once-shivering form.

“thanks, uh..”

“ellie. williams. ellie williams.” she stutters out, which is pretty cute.

“ellie. thank you.” 

that only gets you a grumble of acknowledgement before she’s back to her guitar. strands of her hair are slowly slipping out of her half-updo, and it only makes her that much more alluring. you’re well aware of the fact that you’re staring again, but she doesn’t seem to mind all that much as she starts up another tune. this one sounds far too smooth, too practiced to be something she even needs to go over, and belatedly you wonder if she’s trying to impress you. 

you two sit together quietly for god knows how long, accustoming yourselves to the other’s presence with ellie’s music writing over any awkward silence, and you drown in the admission that you could sit like this forever. the party inside is dying down, with a good chunk of attendees deciding to turn in early while the rest are either still on adrenaline highs or settling down for a couple of drinking games. 

“where’d you learn how to play?” 

you find yourself speaking before you can even think about it, and she doesn’t give you room to regret the interruption with the soft, loving little smile that breaks out on her face when she considers your question.

“old guy. his name’s joel.” 

you can’t help but smile at that; whatever harsh exterior she’s going for really isn’t working for her right now. almost every time she’s spoken to you, it’s either been with a smile, a laugh, or some poorly-concealed interest. joel, you think, taking that name and storing it for later, if there ever is a later with this girl. ellie.

“his guitar, then.” you hum, because it can’t be that much of a secret if a signature that deeply resembles his name is etched into a spot just above the pickguard. “you mind teaching me someday?”, you add, because there won’t ever be a moment where you don’t want to be talking to ellie; what you aren’t expecting is for her to look up at you with the same fond look that she’d looked at her guitar with just moments before, and nod. christ, you think, she’s so..

“we can start today, if you wanna.” she offers, and you try your very best not to seem too eager when you say yeah, for sure, but realize you’ve failed and that the pretty stranger–pretty girl sitting across from you doesn’t really care. she’s taking her guitar off her lap and making her way over to you before you can even second-guess yourself, crouching in front of you and raising an inquisitive eyebrow on her undeniably attractive, stupid fucking face.

you kind of want to kiss her.

you’re already imagining a future where you and ellie are, at the very least, friends—if not more, but you don’t want to get your hopes up—and are out like this every day, hanging out, being comfortable in each other’s presence because there’s no way this feeling of security is normal with someone you’ve just met unless you’re soulmates of some kind.

ellie makes a gesture, lifts her arms as a means of telling you to lift your own, and you swear its the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen. you lift yours and her hand snakes its way forward, pressing against your right shoulder so you’ll lean back a little. she’s strong, you can tell that much—as if the muscle lining every inch of her visible skin wasn’t enough—, and her touch is searing hot, leaving fire in its wake. 

she sets the guitar in your lap, spreads your legs gently by the knees, and waits expectantly with her hands out for you to offer up your own. you find yourself staring as she takes your hands, lithe, strong fingers beneath your own, lips parted slightly in both concentration and excitement as she positions your left hand under the neck, fingers splayed just slightly against the frets. she realizes you already have your other arm around the body, but reaches over to ghost her fingertips against the skin of your elbow anyways. 

she smiles. “try it. use your thumb. don’t break my guitar.”

the look you give her prompts another huff of laughter, but she seems to have enough faith in you to believe you won’t. it doesn’t seem like she plans on moving, though, since she’s still crouched in front of you and when you mutter a retributive “it’s joel’s,”, the pretty girl in front of you leans forward and rests her open palms on your knees, effectively cutting off any sly remarks.

you’re probably never going to forget the way her eyes light up when you strum it the first time, and use your very limited guitar-playing knowledge to press against a couple of the frets in succession and play what sounds like a semi-well-practiced harmony.

“holy shit,” she breathes, and you find yourself feeling bashful regardless of the fact you were only, like, thirty percent sure you could pull that off again. however, you manage to contain any sighs of relief and only exhale a chuckle in response. 

her eyes are still on you, you know, and you start absentmindedly fidgeting with the neck and its frets; her attention is everything you could’ve ever wanted, but her gaze is weighed and it’s making you feel a little self-conscious. you’re not starved for it by any means but it has been a while since someone has stared at you like this, awestruck out of their mind. it’s funny because for some reason ellie’s making this seem like such a huge deal when she’d spent the past, what—you’ve lost track of time—thirty minutes? an hour? playing a bunch of fucking songs on this old guy’s guitar, and—

“i had no idea you could play guitar..” 

her voice tears you out of your own head, and suddenly she’s closer to you than she has been all night. you lock eyes when she mutters your name, alarmed at the fact she knows it—you reason that she knows dina and you must’ve been mentioned in passing at least a couple of times—, and feel chills go down your spine, butterflies erupting in your stomach. i definitely want to kiss her.

“i can’t,” you huff, desperate to ease out the tension, “you outplay me by—”

“can i kiss you?”

her cut-off is abrupt and unexpected, and you swear your heart has never stopped like this. it’s such an innocent question, a plea of consent laced with insecurity, something the girl you’d seen in the main hall earlier into the night hadn’t even seemed like she possessed, but it’s so inherently ellie you don’t know what to do with yourself. so you nod. a quick tilt to your chin, up and down; you can’t trust your voice to work well enough for a yes.

but ellie needs to hear it. 

“say yes. i gotta hear you say it.”

you stare at her, and she stares back. the need to actually kiss her is growing unbearable now that you know she wants it too, but the mortification of knowing this pretty girl could hear the desperation in your voice—you haven’t even tuned into the fact that she sounds just as desperate as you—, the hitch of your breathing if you were to say yes, makes it hard to voice what you want.

so you don’t. she’s close enough, hands having slid upwards, her sweaty palms against your thighs in a subconsciously innocent gesture; any stray hair’s been tucked messily behind her ear, her lips are a little chapped and you see her throat constrict in a swallow when you reach forward with your right hand and thread your fingertips through the hair at the base of her neck.

and when you lean forward—as much as you can, with the guitar situated between the two of you—, ellie meets you halfway, semi-pulled in by your touch and mostly leaned in of her own accord. 

it’s a kiss. just that, a gentle press of the lips, but the glorification fiction has given it hasn’t been for nothing. maybe it’s just because it wasn’t with the right person, but you’re far from unfamiliar with it and it’s never felt like this. ellie kisses like she never wants to stop and you’re not complaining. you feel her grip tighten around your thighs, and you’re already running out of air even though you’ve only been doing this for a couple seconds. when you part, it’s with an unspoken promise of more.

“i’ve seen you around,” ellie starts, whispering against your lips. it sounds like a confession, something she needs to get off her chest, so you urge her to continue with your silence and the gentle circling of your thumb against her scalp. “with dina. or jesse. on campus. during those stupid presentations. or the social events. and i’ve always wanted to talk to you, you know? especially that one time, when you,” she inhales, smoothing her hands out against your legs. “when you corrected jesse on a fucking dinosaur name at the group’s museum outing.”

you stare at her, shuffling through images of every event you’ve ever gone to for dina’s sake when it hits you. a couple months back, before finals, probably when dina and jesse had gotten back together after a huge blowup, she’d found some stupid exhibit at a museum close to campus and presented it to you. she’d asked if you thought it was a good deal, especially because her friend, ellie, liked dinosaurs, and fuck, what is wrong with you?

“shit, you remember that?”

her silence is enough of an answer, gaze flitting between your eyes and lips nervously. 

“oh my god,” you exhale, keeping her still with the hand you have around her neck as you press your foreheads together. to think, if you’d been a little less ignorant at the time, you could’ve already known ellie. the two of you could have been friends, possibly more—which now, doesn’t seem all that ridiculous—, had you tuned in a little more to what dina was saying, had paid more attention to the rest of dina’s group when you’d gone out with her, had asked simply, back then, who’s ellie?

“is that weird? tell me that’s not weird. i kinda feel like a creep now, fuck. i swear i wasn’t, like, stalking you or anything,” ellie starts rambling, something you doubt you’ll ever get tired of. 

“you said you’ve seen me around a couple times. are you a creep?”, you tease.

“no! i mean, no. i just kinda, i only heard about you and saw you that time, and, shit–” 

you smile at her, let her go on as you lean further over the guitar, left hand reaching out to tuck a couple strands of her unruly hair behind her right ear, effectively cutting her off without saying a word. this awestruck look on her face is something you really, really want to get used to, and the feeling of her breath ghosting over your lips is far more welcome than anything else will ever be. 

“god, i wanna kiss you again.”

“do it.” you hum, and then ellie’s lips are on yours again and you swear this pretty stranger with the auburn hair is going to be the death of you.

[yourlocalcryptidbee]

⭐Lucifer Morningstar Headcanons

Headcannons about the lovely Lucifer Morningstar and the ways he acts with the even lovelier reader! Grab some snacks and a beverage, get comfy and enjoy <3

~1k words

GN-ish! Reader (mentions of hair long enough to braid that’s it) NOT proof read.

Dude hates crowds, like has a burning(get it? hellfire? burning…never mind) hatred for them, most of them anyways. Crowds, people in general, can’t seem to think for themselves when around him. It’s always ‘whatever you want, your majesty,’ ‘don’t let us stop you, your majesty’ ‘we’ll do whatever you ask, your Majesty’ It reminds him of Heaven and the councils, and the masses, and the sermons….the list goes on. It’s Groupthink on steroids. A complete echo chamber that a young Lucifer tried to break. That version of Lucifer stood up to the majority and lost everything because of it. Of course that man still can’t stand it, especially now that he’s on the other end of it. He wishes that sinners could at least try to have a personality around him, not just a bunch of spineless pushovers, ready to wait hand on foot in fear of being smote.

He likes to watch you, not in a creepy way! At least he hopes that it isn’t creepy to you. Simply put, Lucifer likes to see you there, see you take up space in his home. Although he isn’t apposed to helping cook breakfast or clean, he’d much rather just watch you do it. It’s a comfort thing for him, watching you physically move around and disturb his space reminds him that you’re real and not something his mind made up as a last ditch effort to fix his depression. In the beginning when you would sleep over at his house, Lucifer wouldn’t make his bed after you left. He’d just leave all the bunched up blankets and sheets exactly how you left them. It made him feel less lonely when he had to sleep by himself the next night.

Frivolous. Like, truly does not care how much he spends on shit. Couldn’t even try to think about caring. It doesn’t matter to him. Partly due to his pride, he’s the big dick in charge of hell! of course he has the money for that 24k gold and diamond encrusted something or other. Especially if he’s buying something for you or Charlie. Your wish is his command after all.

His house is sssssoooo dusty. After his divorce he had quarantined himself to his bedroom, bathroom and office. He never went anywhere else in his house, he would portal himself between the rooms when necessary so he didn’t even use the hallways! Which one could imagine would leave a substantial amount of dust EVERYWHERE. He had invited you to his home for the first time on a whim, feeling proud of himself for finally asking and had coincidently walked through his front door, only to cough from inhaling so much dust. That pride turned to horror as he realized he only had an hour to clean his house before you showed up. That man had never moved faster in his life. He was so focused, unfortunately sometimes on the wrong things, I mean why was he cleaning the support beams that were 15 feet high and attached to the ceiling and not, I don’t know, the kitchen!? 

Lucifer cannot throw things away. Just look how long he wore his wedding band after he and Lilith split. In fact, he still has kept the ring after getting together with you, though he’s not wearing it, Lucifer just couldn’t bring himself to get rid of something like that. It still lives in a nice box in the very back of his nightstand. This is even worse when it comes to gifts from either you or Charlie. It could be the stupidest thing and he’ll cherish it and hold onto it for eternity. All those rocks, broken crayons, leaves, and bottle caps that baby Charlie gave to him? All tucked away safely to this day, hell, sometimes he’ll look through it all as a little pick me up. Maybe this has to do with being physically thrown out of his home in heaven or maybe he just is sentimental, even Lucifer doesn’t know.

Loves having his wings be taken care of. It was hard after he fell from heaven, those beautiful white wings now a blood red? Not something he liked to look at. It reminds of what he failed to do and of the pain he created for all of humanity. Having you take care of that is so special to him. You take the time to preen his wings and make sure they’re perfect. One of the things that are constantly reminding him of his failure as an angel is just so easily accepted and loved by you. Something so small to you, means the world to him. You can look at something that symbolizes failure and still love it unconditionally because it’s Lucifer’s? Yeah, he loves it that you take care of him.

Will 1000% make dad jokes when he doesnt know what to say. It’s honestly adorable. This happened on multiple occasions when your relationship was still new. A conversation would finish and there’d be a lull or a pregnant pause, and then he’d just “what-what do you call a can opener that’s broken?”

.

.

.

“a can’t opener. ” 

Cue his quiet, stifled yet awkward laughter at his own joke and the distant groan from Charlie who has probably heard that a million times already.

Has a gift for braiding hair. Honestly, he’s pretty good at styling hair in general but allow him to braid your hair and his talent just shines through. His own hair has some length to it so he has in fact braided his own hair but come on, his (ex)wife and baby girl have some of the longest blonde hair in the underworld, of course, he knows what he’s doing. Doesn’t matter what style or where the braid originated, he can do it. The cherry on top is that when he’s combing out your hair beforehand, there isn’t a single tug. Could this be magic? Yes. Could this also be a skill carefully cultivated over the literal millennia he’s been alive? Also yes.

[hainethehero]

Steve Rogers Trauma: A TED TALK

Why is it that any kind of commentary/analysis on Steve Roger's trauma has to be met with comparisons to Bucky or Tony's trauma? Or most of the fanfics I read completely gloss over Steve's trauma?

Some of y'all legit do not care or are blind to Steve Roger's trauma throughout the Captain America & Avengers films and it shows. And this isn't hate to any fanfic writers but rather an observation of most stucky and stony fanfics which seem to minimize Steve's character & trauma in favour of highlighting their fave's. And of course it's fine that people want to write about Bucky or Tony or even Nat's trauma, but MOST TIMES* I've read these fics and they all have an intentional disregard for Steve's traumas.

And this speaks to the wider discourse around Tony, Bucky & Steve- the three characters most written about in mcu fanfics.

Because why is it that anytime I bring up Steve's PTSD or his illnesses or the hell he would've gone through pre-serum, people always HAVE to add in their 2cents about, "well yeah & Bucky went through worse." Like.???? No, I'm not talking about him.

I absolutely love Bucky and he's one of my favourite characters in both the comics and the MCU but, respectfully, this ain't about him.

I'm talking about Steve and his life. The crap he would've had to deal with both in public and at home. Especially the horrors both he and Sarah would've gone through because of Joseph Rogers who was a terrible person and an alcoholic who beat up on his wife and sickly kid.

And even post-serum when he's completely healthy and living in the future now, I'm still seeing popular narratives about "Yeah he's alive now & hasn't gone through half of what Bucky's endured over the past 70yrs." OR "He's had it easy compared to Bucky who was being tortured by HYDRA."

Um, no one's saying Bucky's treatment under HYDRA was a good thing??? But we're talking about Steve here, not Bucky?

And how he was literally frozen in a state of purgatory & how traumatic it would feel to be ripped out of it and then basically thrown to the new world on your ass without any kind of therapy or help. Most people make it seem like Steve was in a Sleeping Beauty kind of sleep and then woke up completely fine. And I will admit the MCU has been the main culprit of that narrative because they deleted so many scenes that humanized Steve Rogers, that now the gen pop thinks:

he's perfectly fine

has zero trauma

should complain about nothing

hasn't had it hard like Bucky or Tony

is a lesser hero because of all of the above

I recently had a convo with a friend & we were talking abt the scene in Avengers 1 when they were all at each other's throats. And they said that Tony was right about Steve being a laboratory experiment & everything special about him came out of a bottle. And I'm like... yeah nah, that's the lazy ass writing that Whedon perpetuated that now makes Steve one of the most misunderstood heroes & people in the MCU. Because he was special before the serum because of his consideration of others. He was special because not only did he hate bullies, but he also went out of his way to protect those that couldn't protect themselves KNOWING what that confrontation might cost him as a chronically sick person. Tony needed a whole ass arc about literally witnessing & living first hand what his weapons were doing to innocents like Yinsen & his people, to change his ways. Steve didn't have, nor did he need any of that to make him special. (AND BEFORE THE TONY STANS COME FOR ME, I LOVE TONY, HE'S LITERALLY ONE OF MY FAVES IN THE MARVEL COMICS & MCU) But this hatred for Steve is ridiculous.

And once again, it's the MCUs fault because they made Tony the ultimate hero of the Avengers at the expense of Steve Rogers' character. Him being able to prove he was "worthy" all along by lifting Thor's hammer was a cheap payoff in the end, much like the entirety of Endgame was. Thanks for coming to my Ted talk.

[lnfours]

bad idea, right? | c.l16

summary -> and i told my friends i was asleep, but i never said where or in whose sheets

wc -> 2k

warnings -> me not knowing french (feel free to correct me pls 🫶🏻), making out, drinking, hooking up with your situationship, secretly pining for one another, fluff towards the end. unedited and shitty writing. for the charles girls who listen to olivia rodrigo <3

masterlist | ask box | listen

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

if there was one thing lando norris didn’t understand the meaning of, it was subtle.

the music from the living room was booming off the walls, people littered in every open space of the house. red plastic cups were littered on every flat surface, the party lights lighting up everyone’s faces as they laughed, sang and danced.

you were sitting on the couch with the guys who had turned up, a fake smile plastered on your face as they all shared the same stories about one another you had heard 100 times. it wasn’t because you didn’t care, it was because of the lack of presence by a certain someone.

you had thrown on one of your best dresses, secretly hoping that it would catch charles’ attention tonight. however, much to your dismay, he didn’t show. as lando said, he ‘wasn’t feeling well’.

you knew it was a cop out of an excuse to come, but then again you couldn’t really blame him. you two were rocky, and there was no hiding it. everyone knew that the two of you were always back and forth, and at this point even you weren’t really sure what was going on. it was always one step forward and then three steps back, neither one of you wanting to fully jump in head first into something that had such real feelings. a little too real, no matter how hard you tried to deny it.

you were pulled away from the conversation as your phone buzzed in your hand, the screen lighting up your face as you read the notification.

instagram:

charles_leclerc replied to your story: you look beautiful, chérie. where are you off to?

you hesitated for a moment before clicking onto the notification, the dms opening as you read his comment underneath the photo you had posted to your story a mere 20 minutes ago. you were posing in the mirror, showing off your dress as you smiled.

did you post it for him specifically to see? maybe, but no one had to know that. your fingers tapped against the keyboard quickly.

lando’s, which seems to be lacking your presence

the ‘read’ popped up at the bottom of your message almost immediately after you had sent it. you swallowed thickly as the bubbles appeared on his side of the chat, taking what felt like years for it to turn into a sentence.

were you counting on me to show?

you bit down on your lower lip, locking your phone as soon as you pressed the ‘send’ button.

perhaps. i don’t wear red often, you know

the sound of your name brought you back down to earth. your head snapped to the man next to you, smiling softly, “hmm?”

“you okay?” lewis asked, concern lining his voice. you nodded back at the driver, waving him off.

“just a little tired, s’all.”

the damn buzz sucked you back in as you read the words appearing on your lockscreen.

if i had known you had worn this for me, i definitely would’ve made an appearance

another buzz.

and please, we both know you look ravishing in red. you should wear it more often, amour. it suits you

you double tapped the second message, fingers hovering over the keyboard as you silently debated sending what you were thinking.

fuck it, it’s fine.

are you actually ‘not feeling well’ or was that just an excuse to be a homebody?

i had plans with this girl named ‘netflix’, but for you i can rearrange

you smiled softly to yourself. why are you giving into this? you’re just going to catch feelings and keep going around and around with him in this stupid game-

pick me up, charles?

don’t have to ask twice. see you in 20

you liked his message, locking your phone as you went back to the ongoing conversation between the boys in front of you. lando was slurring slightly as he was telling the story of how he had first met you to daniel, having mutual friends.

and somehow, charles’ name had gotten brought up.

“so are you and him…?” daniel asked, eyebrows pinched together. you shrugged, taking a sip of your drink. play it cool. they can’t know.

“no, i’m not seeing him,” you lied, “sick of going around and around with him in endless circles.”

everyone nodded, a few of them saying ‘good for you’s and ‘rightfully so’s. if only they actually knew where you were going to be the rest of the night.

your phone buzzed in your lap.

parked a few houses down

planning my escape route now

this time, he double tapped your message, a small heart appearing on the bottom corner of it. you took in a breath, softly sighing as you went to stand.

“sorry to leave so early, boys, but i’m starting to get tired.”

you were reciprocated with ‘boo’s and ‘cmon, stay a little longer’s, but you laughed and shook your head.

“sorry, stass is already outside waiting for me.” you hated lying to them, but it was the only way.

stass, your roommate, would kill you if she really knew who was waiting for you outside and where you really were going.

you said your goodbyes, making your way through the sea of people as you headed out the front door. you looked to the right, spotting charles leaning against the hood of the red ferrari sitting underneath the streetlight a few houses down. you made your way over, smiling softly as you watched his eyes shift from your head to your heels. you were standing in front of him now as he looked at you with soft eyes, a smile on his face.

“as i suspected,” he smiled, “that dress is even better in person.”

you smiled back, pointing to the side of your lips, “you’ve got a bit of drool there, char.”

you both snickered as he placed his hand on the small of your back, leading you towards the passenger side door, “fermez-la.”

he opened the door, letting you climb in before he shut it after making sure your feet were all the way in. you watched as he walked around the front of the car, opening his own door before sliding inside.

he looked over at you, eyes taking in your figure again, “tu es belle,”

you smiled again, your heart pounding as he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your face. you fought back the urge to nuzzle into his palm, his green eyes searching yours. you weren’t sure who leaned in first, but in what felt like a matter of seconds, you were leaning over the console as he kissed you passionately.

your fingers found the back of his neck, carding them through the strands on the back of his head. his had cupped your cheek, and everything about it seemed so right.

you found yourself shifting in your seat, slipping your heels off as you climbed over the console and straddled his lap. his hands gripped at your waist as you wrapped your own around his neck. his pupils were blown, lips puffy from kissing, hair fluffy from you running your fingers through it, and everything about him right now just looked so so good.

you leaned back down and met his lips, his soon traveling to the corner of your mouth, your jaw and eventually your neck. you sighed contently, leaning your head the opposite direction to give him more room. you went to shift your weight to get more comfortable, but you had accidentally grinded down on his hips. he groaned against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as his teeth grazed against the skin on your collarbone.

“my place?” he breathed out, leaving wet, open mouth kisses against your skin. his accent was getting thicker with each passing second your hands were on him, a sign that he was on the same page as you.

you nodded, “stass would kill me and you if you walked through the door.”

he chuckled softly, “yeah, i’d like to make it to see 26,”

you laughed softly, climbing back into your own seat and clicking in the seatbelt as he started the car. the rest of the drive was relatively quiet, except for charles’ playlist playing softly through the radio. his right hand found its place on your leg, his thumb moving slowly up and down the skin absentmindedly. you smiled out of the window, sure morally this wasn’t the best idea, but he makes every wrong decision feel so right.

once you arrived at his building and parked the car in the underground structure, the two of you made your way up to his apartment. he fished for the keys out of his pocket, you leaning your head on his shoulder, basking in the smell of his expensive cologne and the smell of his shampoo, the same scent that would linger for days whenever he’d sleep on your pillows. a smell you could never get enough of, the smell of home no matter how hard you tried to deny it.

once the door was opened and he placed his things by the door, the two of you were kicking off your shoes. you squealed as his arms wrapped around you, picking you up off the hardwood floor as he carried you down the hallway.

“charles!” you laughed. you could hear his chuckles as they echoed off the walls, his bedroom door opening as he placed you down softly on his sheets.

“i love it when you say my name,” his smirk sent shivers down your spine, his eyes scanning over your features for maybe the hundredth time tonight, “say it again.”

“charles,” you smiled back, his own smile lighting up his face, dimples making themselves prominent.

“again,” he urged and you laughed, shaking your head.

“no, i’m not saying it again.”

“please,” he pouted, “it sounds so good coming from you.”

you rolled your eyes playfully, giving in, because who could say no to him?

“charles,” you said it dramatically this time, “there. happy?”

“je t’aime.” he didn’t mean to say it, it kind of just spilled out of his mouth without a second thought. you blinked at him, waiting for him to mumble a ‘i take it back’ or ‘i wasn’t supposed to say that’, but his green eyes searched yours, a small smile on his lips.

was it worth going around and around in circles with him just to hear him say it? maybe, just a little bit.

okay, maybe a lot.

“char,” you whispered, he shook his head.

“i know you’re not ready, i’m not asking you to say it back right now, i just really needed to get it off my chest.”

the thing was, you loved him, too. you weren’t sure how to say it, but it physically hurt how much you loved him. it was like you were starved of oxygen before you met him, like he was your sun and you were beaming and glowing whenever he was around. you’d follow him anywhere, as long as he was yours.

sure, admitting it out loud was scary, but it was something you had already come to terms with. no one knew you like he did, and no one knew him like you did.

“i love you, too.” your arms linked around his neck as he smiled back down at you, a genuine smile. a smile so warm and bright that it made your heart beat a little bit faster.

“sois à moi,” he mumbled softly, “for real this time. no more 2am texts, no more circles, no more complications or sneaking around, just us. together, like how it should’ve been in the first place.”

“i’ve always been yours, charles.” it was true, wether he knew it or not.

“let me take you out,” he said, “a proper dinner, something you deserve.”

“only if you take me to that restaurant in the city,” you said, “the one with the fancy candles on the table.”

“anywhere you want, chérie,” he said, “as long as you wear this dress again.”

you smiled, “i suppose i can make that work.”

he leaned down and slowly kissed your lips, “so we have a deal?”

you nodded, your nose bumping his, “deal.”

[cupidbedsy]

𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 ; 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 ꕤ

➪ summary: late at night, bella gets a call from trevor saying that one of his best friends got traded to Philly. which leaves her to run around target and her apartment to make everything right for him

➪ warnings: jamie's trade

➪ word count: 1.4k

➪ file type: au (and they were roommates) fic

➪ sunny's notes: i cannot believe it took me this long to get this amazing couple back out. i promise to be more active with au's going forward, including the 'rebirth' of ice bound.

au masterlist || nhl masterlist || navigation

“Hey, Trev. What’s up?”

“Bella? I need a favor.”

“Okay… what’s wrong?”

“Jamie just got traded to the Flyers.”

It was like her heart stopped. Sure she hadn’t known Jamie for that long, barely met him more than twice, but being traded was hard no matter if you wanted it or not. However, there was a bright side to this trade, he knew people here, her and Cam, so at least he wouldn’t be completely in the dark, “Oh god.”

“Do you think that he could-”

“Yeah, of course. No need to even ask. Jamie, when are you going to get in?”

She was grabbing her keys from the counter and getting her shoes on as she held her phone between her shoulder and her ear, “I don’t know.”

His voice sounded distant, physically but emotionally. She frowned and opened her door to leave, “Well you let me know okay, honey? I’ll be there to pick you up.”

“Thank you, Bella.” She heard Jamie’s voice once again, it still sounded distraught and far away. 

“Always. You have a safe flight and Trev?”

“Yeah?”

She halted, not actually knowing what she was going to say, “Uh, am I still on speaker?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you take me off please?”

Trevor did as he was asked, sending his friend an empathic look and holding the phone to his ear, “What’s up?”

“He’ll be okay, you know that right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

There was a silence separating his last words and the next ones, “Please take care of him for me.”

“Of course, I will Trevor.”

“Thank you. Love you.”

“Love you too, Trev. Now go get some sleep, okay?”

He nodded, “Yeah, okay.”

She hung up and started driving to the store to pick up some things for Jamie, knowing how much he would need things that felt familiar to him. She sent a text to Trevor once she got there, asking for his favorite foods, things that he loved, his favorite video game, etc. She was practically running around the store gathering things, probably buying too much in some people’s opinion. 

She wasn’t totally shocked about the price, she knew she had thrown a lot into the cart, but she paid for it anyway. When she arrived home, she changed the sheets in the guest room and stocked up the guest bathroom with more toiletries than a person would need. There was something off about it however, something was missing. She couldn’t tell what it was but when she saw her childhood stuffed animal sitting on her couch she knew she should put it on his bed. It always helped her through tough times, so why couldn’t it help him?

When she realized the time, she headed to the airport in a flurry. She knew she would be there early but thought it would be better to wait outside the terminal for him instead. She pulled up near the curb, waiting for him. His plane had landed about 20 minutes ago, so she just sat on her phone, occasionally glancing up to see if he was still walking out of the airport.

Once she saw him, she jumped out of the car and stood on the other side of it, waiting for him to get close to her. Once he was in arms reach of her, she pulled him into a hug. She could tell he had been crying, his eyes were puffy and red. Her heart broke when she heard him sniffle into her shoulder, “You ready to go home?”

Jamie didn’t process what she said, all he could hear was “ready” and “go”. He nodded, nonetheless, detaching himself from her. She popped the trunk open and he placed his suitcase in there before getting into the passenger seat. She pulled out of the airport and started to drive home, the two of them sitting in silence until the sound of her phone ringing blared through the car’s speakers. The two moved their eyes to the screen to see Trevor calling, “You want me to answer it?”

She looked over at him, “If you want. You don’t have to.”

He shrugged and pressed the answer button, “Bella! Why’d you take so long to answer? Is Jamie there? Is he okay? Did you find him? Did-”

“Calm down, Trevor. I’m here.”

“Oh good. How was your flight?”

Jamie frowned, “It was okay.”

Bella could see the way he was beginning to feel uncomfortable. He was still thinking of the way he had to leave so abruptly, barely getting able to say goodbye to the team, let alone Trevor. She smiled slightly at Trevor’s worry, “Trev?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re just getting back to the apartment, can we call you back later? Maybe after Jamie gets settled in?”

“Oh yeah, sorry. Take care, you guys.”

“You too, Trev.”

She hung up and pulled into the parking lot of her apartment building. She could tell he was still hesitant about this, still distraught with everything that had happened, still upset about the news. She let him sit there, grabbing his luggage from the trunk before walking around to his side of the car, “You read to go up?”

He nodded, fully getting out of the car. The two walked up the stairs, Jamie taking his bag from her so she wouldn't have to. She opened the door and gave him a brief tour, “This is your room. I put some things in there for you if you want them, the bathroom has toiletries if you need them, and yeah. I’ll be in my room if you need me, okay Jamie?”

He gave her a small smile in acknowledgement in which she returned before leaving for her own room. It must’ve been less than five minutes from when she left to when he showed up in the doorway of her room. Bella had barely changed out of her clothes into one of Quinn’s hoodies and a pair of sweats due to having been out in the cold. She was getting ready to watch something on her laptop when she heard the knock.

She looked up with a smile, “What’s up, Jam?”

“Can I lay with you?”

She wasn’t bothered by the question, only scooting over to make room for me. She knew he needed comfort, needed to not be alone, it wasn’t a big deal. He was holding her stuffed animal tightly, it did bring him some sort of comfort, even if it was embarrassing. He sat down next to her and placed the sheets and comforter overtop of his legs, “I’m sorry if this is weird.”

She shook her head, “It’s not. Trust me, you’re not the first person to ask.”

That made Jamie’s stomach twist into an unfamiliar feeling but he shrugged it off, not wanting to pay too much attention to it. She pulled up Disney and looked at him, “What do you want to watch?”

He just shrugged, “Well, I was going to watch Tangled because it’s my comfort movie.” 

He nodded, totally fine with watching the movie. It was a quarter of the way into the movie when Jamie broke out into sobs. Bella looked confused as to what set him off but wasted no time in wrapping her arms around him, letting him cry. 

“Everything is changing, Bella. Why does it have to be me?”

She frowned, unsure of how to answer that so she stayed silent. He let out more mumbles and cries before being able to calm himself down, apologizing profusely to her for the way he acted, “Hey, you just got traded, Jamie. I’m not going to say I know how you feel because I don’t. I can only imagine what you’re going through, but it’s not going to be bad forever. There are some great guys on the team and you know Cam and you know me, you’re going to get through this okay?” 

He nodded once more, a small smile forming. She let him settle his head back onto her shoulder before playing the movie and before she knew it, he was fast asleep.

[sixosix]

( a/n ) light angst, hurt/comfort, PROFANITY WARNING, guys im so sorry this is so short but its all im capable of rn

special mention TYSM @earthtooz for proofreading i owe u my soul

he’s always been a little sensitive to people caring for him. he’s used to taking care of others, to have his parents let him get away with everything, and he’s spent his life isolating himself from people who would see him past what he is but for who he is.

reo rolls his shoulder to shove your hand off of him, frowning at the wall. “you know me well enough already, don’t you? you know that i hate it when you get like this.”

“this isn’t good for you, reo. you’re destroying yourself,” you snarl, jabbing at his back. “i’m sick of seeing you like this. i’m not a babysitter, nor your therapist.”

“i’m not asking you to worry about me, am i?” he snaps, finally turning to meet your eyes.

anger boils in your chest, but you let it simmer with a few deep breaths. reo isn’t thinking properly right now, raving on and on about not working hard enough, and how he isn’t catching up. “there isn’t a professional boundary between us, i care for you because i love you. right now, when you say shit like that? i can barely give a fuck about you anymore.”

reo’s sharp scowl falters around the edges, giving way to confusion. “where are you going?” he demands when you make your way to the door.

“away,” you say, slipping your shoes on and refusing to look at him. “you said you need space, right? then i’ll give it to you. we’re over.”

“fine.” his tone is biting, but his voice sounds strange. “fine…”

he’s still lethargic, you tell yourself; he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, and he’ll regret it later. but he doesn’t stop you.

maybe if you were to glance back at him one last time, you’d see the broken expression on his face hitting him right after.

from the start, reo’s always been expecting you would leave him. everyone does that to him, anyway. even nagi, who he still considers his best friend. it was a little too good to be true with you, so he tells himself that this was bound to happen. that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt when it finally happens.

reo groans, shoving his face into his pillow. his friends snicker at his misery, so reo does what he needs to and flips them off with two hands. but as a groveling man with his face hidden by his sheets, it does not paint the intimidating picture he wanted.

“it hasn’t even been that long,” nagi remarks. he doesn’t spare reo a glance so unfortunately, he doesn’t get see reo flashing him with his middle finger.

“mmrgh,” reo says, still pressed against his bed.

isagi pats him on the shoulder, which doesn’t help anyone, but it’s the thought that counts.

“record him, record him, do it,” bachira says, clapping nagi on the back repeatedly, his strength enough to jostle him back and forth. obediently, nagi follows, pointing his phone camera right at a moping reo.

“day two without y/n,” nagi says to his future audience. “barely holding on.”

“i feel awful,” reo groans. “y/n blocked me.”

“do you regret what you said?” isagi asks.

“‘course i do,” reo hisses, offended that he would even ask that. “i was an asshole. y/n was right—y/n’s always right. i’m stupid.”

bachira snorts, “keep fighting, reo!” and barely manages to dodge the pillow thrown his way.

the camera pans back to reo, who’s looking red in the face, awfully pathetic. “fuck off. don’t post that. y/n’s gonna see it and make fun of me when we’re back again.”

nagi posts it anyway.

chigiri hums thoughtfully, waving a hand in front of your face. “you don’t look like you moved on to me.”

you splutter, shoving his phone back onto him. you feel your heart pound in your ears and with the way chigiri smiles knowingly, you almost wonder if he can hear it, too. “shut up! why did he say that? i hate him.”

“sure you do. say what?”

“‘when we’re back together again’ like he’s so sure about it,” you try to say it like you’re angry, but your expression resembles reo from that video. it doesn’t come out as you want it.

reo looks much better now. nagi says that reo religiously followed your advice right after and has been faring better, which is a real shame since you can’t even see it for yourself. he looks less pale and much brighter, but instead of the anger you last saw him with, he’s just become a carbon copy of a wet blanket.

“aren’t you?” chigiri watches the post again, just to torment you with your sniveling ex. “getting back together again, i mean.”

“i’m leaving.”

“yeah? and go where? reo’s bed?”

“i’ll strangle you!”

[bliss-in-the-void]

Gege Akutami, You Do Not Understand Gojo Satoru, and Here is Why

I was reading this article to help me cope with the traumatic events of Chapter 236 when a certain portion didn’t sit right with me.

Long post, click to read the full analysis:

(this is probably the most important post I've made so far)

Now, we all know that Gege doesn’t like Gojo. They don’t make it a secret in the slightest. Which is fine in itself, as an author you are 100% within your right to hate a character you created, and I respect that—it gives dimension to the dynamic of a story.

What I don’t care for is the reasons Akutami lists for their dislike of Gojo.

Reason #1 as stated in the above blurb of the article: Gojo doesn’t have depth.

To me, this is a wild statement to make as an author, but especially as the one who wrote Gojo. Where does he lack depth? Genuine question.

I believe he is an incredibly complex character.

He is the first sorcerer in centuries to be born with the Six Eyes and Limitless techniques, which automatically sets up so many nuances. Coupled with the fact that Akutami has stated that he grew up spoiled, that right there should tell you some things about why he is the way he is. He has a bit of an inflated ego when it comes to his powers. And why wouldn’t he? From the time he was born, the people around him treated him like some sort of God. How else was he supposed to grow up? He’s told his whole life he possesses unparalleled power, and he’s going to believe that.

Even still, it really isn’t as unchecked as Akutami seems to believe it is. Despite his distaste for authority, Gojo still reports to the higher ups, goes on missions, exorcizes curses, and works collaboratively with his fellow sorcerers. If he was really the giant egomaniac Akutami argues that he is, he’d say ‘to hell with authority’ and run off to do whatever he wants like Yuki. I mean, COME ON, this guy is the most powerful modern sorcerer and he still attended all four years of high school. He could have easily never attended—who was going to stop him?

He has a peculiar sense of humor that can get inappropriately timed in certain moments, but it’s obvious that it’s a deflection and a coping mechanism for the horrors of a sorcerer’s reality. He doesn’t just joke about death and dying because he doesn’t care. He cares too much and he doesn’t know how to deal with it, so he suppresses and laughs it off. Moments like this are seen after Suguru dies in JJK 0 when he was clearly crying afterward, but had to put on a cheerful facade for Yuuta and the other students.

He is a very good teacher. It’s hard for a naturally gifted prodigy to effectively teach things which come automatically to them, and somehow he finds creative ways to do it. Teaching Yuuji to control cursed energy by using one of Yaga’s dolls and giving him a movie marathon? One of Yuuji’s favorite hobbies? Genius and so considerate for Yuuji. He’d just been thrown into the sorcerer world, learning all these new things, and Gojo decided to introduce a foreign concept to him through something familiar and comfortable to him. That is amazing, and the mark of a very kind, understanding teacher. He’s also really patient with his students. Yes, he gives them tough love sometimes by throwing them into missions, but it really is to make them strong. How else will they grow if they aren’t put under pressure?

His motivation for being a teacher is very selfless. He himself has stated that he isn’t suited to be a teacher, but that he has a dream to raise a generation of strong allies to prevent isolation from occurring like what had happened to Suguru. He felt guilty about growing apart from him, didn’t see the warning signs before he snapped, and regrets not being there for him more. His entire purpose now is dedicated to making sure the new wave of sorcerers have a tightly-knit network so that no one ends up alone and on a dark path like Suguru.

He constantly sticks his neck out for the helpless even when it’s far from his benefit. He paid off the Zenin clan to save Megumi, the child of the man who ruined his high school years and nearly killed him. He then raised him. He threatened the higher ups to keep Yuuta alive, and then did it again for Yuuji. He does this to preserve their youth, because his own was taken away from him. His whole life he’d been controlled by the higher ups and people around him because of who he is in the sorcerer world, so by waving his own status in front of authority to hold them back from his students, he acts as a sort of shield to take as many burdens off of their shoulders as he can so that they can remain carefree. As much as he can within his power.

With all of that being said, I really don’t understand where Akutami is coming from with lack of depth, but another argument I say to that statement is: well, you’re the author, give him the depth you think he’s missing. (Personally, I believe he’s one of the best-written characters in any anime I’ve seen).

Reason #2 is that according to Akutami, he doesn’t have a likable personality.

What about his personality is unlikable?

He is cocky, but not to the point where he stops caring about others, not to the point where he never considers how other people feel or how his actions affect other people, and not to the point where he never feels guilt and remorse about his shortcomings. Like I said, he lives his life trying to prevent his past from repeating itself, to save the fates of others.

I really don’t get it. In JJK 0, after Nitta gives her report on the shopping mall, Gojo thanks her and praises her. Would a cocky asshole do that? No. If you wanted to characterize him as unlikable, you could have made him dismiss her, or ignore her.

He makes pop culture references, he has endearing flaws like not being good at drawing, being a lightweight drinker, and overdoing it on the sweets. He’s funny, he’s kind, he’s considerate…he is a very likable character.

Honestly, the self-absorption he displays when he’s fighting is probably a result of his upbringing. Being told you have so much power you have so much power you have so much power over and over again instills this belief that yes, he’s needed by Jujutsu Society to fight curses as a weapon. As. A. Weapon. The Six Eyes & Limitless user is a formidable weapon, but what about Satoru Gojo, the person? The only time he feels useful is when he’s fighting curses. That’s where he gets his self-worth. We can see that expressed in this panel, from Chapter 236:

In the second half of Gojo’s second text bubble, he says, “でもどこかで人としてというより生き物としての線引きがあったのかな”.

This translates to: “But I wonder if somewhere there was a line drawn between being a creature rather than a person.”

Rather than having drew the line himself, being constantly treated like the strongest, being handed over the difficult missions, being relied on so heavily pushed him away from other people. It distorted the perception everyone had of him, and it distorted the perception he had of himself. He also believed he could never lose because he let his human side fade into the background. The world didn't need human Satoru Gojo, they needed sorcerer Satoru Gojo, the one who could bend rules to his will with his might, the one who could exorcise any curse and save the day no matter how bad things got. Why would he remain human when that part of him was treated as non-existent? The only person who did treat him as a person with weaknesses and flaws has been dead for eleven years. Of course that voice of reason is going to fizzle out.

How can you possibly vilify him for that? It would be a disservice to everything he has had to endure his entire life.

Reason #3 and the last point I want to touch on is when the article says, "Akutami believes that much of this adoration is based solely on his striking appearance, overshadowing his more abrasive personality traits."

Okay. Where to start?

Honestly, and I know this is probably not Akutami's intention, but that comes off as so condescending. It's so presumptuous. It's as if to say we're all going "ooh look at pretty man, pretty man do no wrong because too pretty" mindlessly with dilated pupils and drool coming out of our mouths. Uh. No.

Yes, Satoru is a good-looking character, but no, that is very far from why we like him so much as a character, and it's also very far from why he's so popular. Aside from all of the points I've made above explaining why he's so universally loved, I'll make another one that isn't superficial and tired.

He's so relatable.

This is a man so incredibly traumatized by his high school years that he is mentally and emotionally unable to move on. Suguru Geto was his very best friend, and for reasons he took too long to understand, chose to abandon their friendship for his own goals. For anyone who has grown apart from a best friend, this hits so hard.

Because of his upbringing it was hard to become close to anyone. But somehow, Suguru was able to break past his walls, and for that, he became entirely too dependent on him. This is common for anyone who finds it hard to make friends and get close to others. Once someone is allowed in, you cling so hard to them and imagine them being there for your entire life. So, when they leave, you take it entirely too personally.

Everyone has a right to live their own lives, and as we see with the divergence of Suguru and Satoru, sometimes our paths aren't leading to the same place. It's not personal. But Satoru took it personal, and that's so beautifully human. When you lose a best friend who was important to you, you think "I like being around this person, they put me at ease in a way no one else does", and you assume they feel the same way about you. So when they leave and show you that no, they didn't feel the same, it hurts. It's almost as if they're saying "I actually do think you're unlovable like everyone else, that's why no one likes you, you are too much."

Someone you thought was safe, isn't anymore.

That is such a relatable thing to watch a character go through! Especially someone as awe-inspiring and charismatic as Gojo! As an audience, we think, "he's just like me!" and we like him for it.

So, as I stated in the title, Gege Akutami, you don't understand Satoru Gojo at all. I commend you for writing such an amazing, iconic, universally loved character, but I will never understand nor respect the superficial way in which you perceive him.

[icycoldninja]

Can I request... Sparda boys x university student female reader, please? 👩‍🎓

Absolutely! Here you go!

Sparda boys x Fem!University student!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante never went to college himself, as he spent his entire youth fighting off demons.

-To make up for it, he visits you every chance he takes and makes you take him on tours throughout the campus.

-Has no idea how to help you with your homework since the last time he had to was around 3 decades ago.

-Tried to spy on you (because he's proud of you) through the window of your classroom and got caught, mistaken for a stalker, and promptly thrown out and banned from campus.

-Now the only time you can see each other is during breaks between semesters when you can go home, but never fear, Dante has a workaround.

-You guys now video call each other all day every day, each of you very reluctant to shut off your phones.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil was very proud of you for going to college and completing your education.

-He visits you every chance he gets, but unlike Dante, he doesn't make you show him around campus. He just likes spending time with you.

-When you guys walk around together people mistake him for a professor, occasionally running up to him and asking questions related to their studies.

-Vergil makes a good professor, though, and answers them more accurately and clearly than their own teachers.

-Since he's so smart, Vergil will help you with your work, but ONLY as if you're stuck and it's last resort. He doesn't want you using him to cheat.

-Sends you treats and things nearly all the time, along with letters reminding you to eat and drink plenty of water.

□ Nero □

-Nero never cared for college, which is why he never went, but he's proud of you for putting in the effort and studying hard.

-He can't visit as much as he'd like to because of devil hunting, his inability to travel without a vehicle, and your busy schedule, but he takes the time to call and/or text at least 4 times a day.

-When you come back to see him for holidays/break time, he is overjoyed.

-He misses you every day that you're gone, getting increasingly lonelier and lonelier until you return.

-Then when you come back he squishes you up in a bone-crushing hug and just stays there for about half an hour, not wanting to let you go.

-He's tempted to grab onto your leg and keep you from leaving again, but knows better than to actually do it. You're leaving for the sake of your education, you'll be back soon.