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#This issue is happening for some times now and I did answer such anon asks till now but unfortunatelly I can't do that anymore
rimunagenius · 13 days
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I loveeee your writing! could you write some head canons about Caitlin clark dating a famous pop star think Sabrina carpenter and her just being obsessed with reader, talking about her non stop in interviews ect
hi anon! i love this idea and thank you so much!💕
Caitlin Clark x Pop Star!reader
you met the most cliche way but super cute nonetheless
you had been sitting court side at an iowa game after the wrap of your tour
you had been a basketball fan since you were a little girl; you played growing up and in college as well before pursuing your music career
she had caught your eye, you having a little crush on her (her confidence through the TV when you followed on tour, enticed you insanely)
your relationship is definitely she fell first and she fell harder (you fell first and she fell harder)
Caitlin loved your music, putting the whole team on you so when she saw you in the crowd, courtside, she came to impress
you just so happened to show up on the biggest night of her career (she broke all those records and she’ll say it was her playing…her teammates would say your presence contributing to her ambition to break the records quicker)
after the game, you stayed behind, talking to your other friends in the music industry who had been there when some of the team came up to you asking for pictures
Caitlin had press interviews, and when they were over so you asked to take a picture with her
“I should be asking you this question, shouldn’t i?” She smiled at you before putting her arm around your waist, and you to her taking the picture
“My biggest flex is I met my celeb crush.” You told your crowd at your small venue show. “I met the Caitlin Clark, and she’s so much prettier in person.”
You treated your fans like your friends. doing a lot of crowd work and have conversations. You told them the real meaning behind ‘because i liked a boy’
a fan had recorded and leaked the footage, it everting around everywhere and inevitably reaching Caitlin
Jada had showed Kate, who had told Caitlin
That’s when Caitlin had it bad
For the next several weeks after that clip went to the media you and Caitlin went back and forth sharing posts to your story of eachother with “stunning” (directed to you) and “i’m your #1 fan” (directed to her)
you didn’t try and hide it your lyrics more controversial than admitting you had a crush a Caitlin
then you both were at a event, you shooting your shot and inviting her as your date
You guys talked more after the stories so inviting her seemed like the right move to you in starting your evolving relationship
you guys definitely were close that night…
i’m talking paparazzi getting shots of you where Caitlin just so happened to have her arms or hands on your waist
then she started appearing more at your shows wether they were small venues or big arenas
Caitlin definitely was starting to get more confident and cocky with you
“this wouldn’t be an issue if you were my girl already”
“oh, so you got something to ask me?”
“no because you already know you want me, and you know i want you.”
Cait obv asks you to be her gf despite this, and it was very intimate and romantic
the hard launch went absolutely bonkers too because both of your fandoms were so large
you made ten times more appearances at her games, courtside, and repping her number loud and proud
you wrote songs about her, and they did so well because you guys were the model couple
“So how do you feel now that you’re dating the Caitlin Clark?” you’d get asked that so frequently the answer was automatic
“Like the luckiest girl in the world.” It was cheesy but it was true
your dream come true
you were subtle; no matter how cocky Caitlin had gotten and how she was usually the most dominant one (Cait is definitely a top and the more masc one when she’s put in a wlw relationship…can’t change my mind)
but was your biggest cheerleader and wouldn’t stop gushing about you when you came up in press interviews
she’d find ways to bring you up like
“oh, me and my girlfriend…”
“my girlfriend would’ve thought that was funny…”
“my girlfriend…”
you two were literally meant to be
two big careers matched you both
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stsgluver · 2 months
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can I request fluff drabble with geto where the reader has insomnia and he reads to her to help her fall asleep? Congrats on 2k!!
synopsis. you're struggling to sleep after toji's attack.
a/n. thank you!! I hope you enjoy <33 I keep adding Toji in as the bad guy atm and I will continue to do so. also to the lovely anon that requested the academic rivals to lovers I AM IN THE PROCESS OF WRITING IT but it's going to be a lot longer than a short drabble xxx
2k event
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“what are you doing?”
you squinted at the sudden light that filled the room. glancing over your shoulder, geto was half sat up, the bedside lamp next to him casting a yellow glow over his tanned skin. he looked tired, eyes half closed, and you felt a pang of guilt.
“sorry suguru,” your hand reached out for his and you interlocked your fingers, giving him a light squeeze. “i didn’t mean to wake you.” you’d been trying to get more comfortable in bed because after two painstakingly long hours of laying and staring at the ceiling, you were starting to get bored.
you’d initially been close to geto, limbs intertwined and his arms securely around you until you’d decided that maybe you were too hot and that was why you couldn’t sleep. except when you moved away you were faced with the same problem and now you weren’t in your boyfriend’s arms – your predicament only worsening.
“why are you awake?” his voice was groggy and sleep was still evident. in any other situation you think you would have just curled back into his arms and let him talk you back to sleep, loving nothing more than to hear him whisper sweet nothings in your ear.
there was a look in his dark eyes though, one that said he already knew the answer to your question. that there was no point in telling him that it was the temperatures keeping you up because you couldn’t even really convince yourself that that was true, let alone him.
you shuffled close to him to rest your head onto his shoulder. one of his arms wrapped around your body, holding you as close as possible to press an encouraging kiss to your forehead.
“i see him every time i close my eyes,” you whispered, voice trembling at the admission. 
geto was shirtless – as he usually was when he slept – and you could see the two large jagged lines that served as a reminder of the man that had nearly slaughtered the two of you and gojo. your fingers hesitantly traced the outline as a silence settled between the two of you.
you’d all been struggling since toji had attacked and you had lost the star plasma vessel. gojo had thrown himself into more training, happily taking on the additional workload the higher ups gave him. geto had become more withdrawn (something you’d tried to talk to him about and he’d dismiss everytime). you, on the other hand, had managed to maintain some kind of normalcy throughout your days, it was at night when all of your issues bubbled to the surface.
“satoru killed him,” geto murmured into your hair, trying his best to ease your racing mind. “you know i won’t let anything hurt you like that again.” you wanted to believe him, you really did, but the phantom pain that bloomed from the scar where you’d been shot throbbed. it was like it was mocking you that no matter how powerful your boyfriend was, no matter how powerful you were, you’d been bested by a mere man with a gun.
when you didn’t respond, geto slipped out of bed, leaving you to sit yourself up properly against the headboard. “where are you going?” you asked him tentatively, a brief moment of insecurity questioning if he was going elsewhere to get a full night’s sleep.
your face lit up in a smile, however, when you realised he was just looking for the book you’d left half read on your desk. when you’d first started dating, most of your alone time happened between lessons. geto would join you underneath a tree of your choosing, head in your lap as you read aloud and he took a nap.
“i love you,” you murmured once geto had settled back into bed. he’d committed to his bit, even going as far as to steal your reading glasses. your giggle was worth it and, for a brief moment, all feelings of unease disappeared for the two of you.
“i love you. now,” geto flicked through the pages to find the small bookmark you had made together, “where were we…”
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checkmate-stuff · 3 months
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Hii! Could I request Albedo, Tighnari, and Cyno (seperatly) with a fake dating scenario. Like the reader's family keep pestering her about getting a boyfriend, so she asks the guys to pretend to be her boyfriend at a family gathering to get them to stop asking her, but the guys kind of have a crush on her anyway and they get together in the end?
the sweetheart scheme 
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wc. 1294 words
tw. fake dating, happy fluffy ending
a/n. hello anon! i hope this is what you wanted :3
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Albedo
“Please be my boyfriend” now don't get him wrong, while your truthfulness is something Albedo appreciates, it might also be the death of him, judging by how fast his heart is beating. “is this a joke of some kind?” You take a seat next to Albedo, looking at him with uttermost seriousness. “My parents think I have a boyfriend and we have a family dinner tonight. You would be an amazing friend if you could pretend to be my boyfriend for tonight.” “I suppose I could…”  your face lights up, getting up from your previous spot on his desk. “You’re the best, thanks bedo!” you press a quick peck to his cheek, missing the way his cheeks are set aflame by your action. And while the chief alchemist has no idea what being your boyfriend for the night might entail, he hopes it can make you see him in a different light. 
When you asked your best friend to be your pretend boyfriend for the night you never accepted him to be so… nice. Albedo isn't exactly known for his social skills in Mondstadt and you expected him to act the part as the reserved boyfriend, knowing how much he dreads social interactions. You were pleasantly surprised to find him at your door, flowers in hand. The rest of the night felt like a dream, or one of those romance novels Lisa enjoys so much. Albedo suddenly became the perfect image of a boyfriend, one that had your entire family swooned. He offered flowers to you and your mother, played with your baby sister and entertained a conversation with your father about Mondstadt politics. He even insisted on taking you home. Arriving at your front door, you turn around facing the alchemist. “thank you bedo, you did great tonight.” Albedo offered you a smile, taking an envelope out of his pocket. “I've read that sending a letter to the person you are courting is considered a romantic gesture.”  he presents the envelope to you, as if he just asked you about the time. Your eyes grow wide, and you can feel your cheeks burning. “i- are you asking me out?” “Indeed I am, and I hope you can return my feelings.” You must be feeling bold tonight, considering you pull the boy by his collar, pulling him into a soft kiss. “so, when's our first date?”
Tighnari
“By any chance do you happen to know a plant that would make my parents forget I don't have a boyfriend yet?” Tighnari is at his desk, reading documents which you assume are forest ranger reports. “I do not. Why do you ask?” you let your body lean on his desk, silently noting the way his ears picked up at the sound of your voice. “My parents are holding a family dinner, which will basically be a lecture about how I am still single.” you sigh, already dreading the yearly family dinner.“is this really an issue?” “Yes, my parents and relatives are a pain in my ass when they want to.”  You both sit in silence for a couple of minutes, an idea forming in your head. “could you pretend to be my boyfriend?? please?” Tighnari put his documents down, now giving you his full attention. “Now, this might work since we have been friends for quite a while now…” While he's trying to keep his composure, Tighnari can't ignore the way his heart jumped at the idea of ‘dating’ you. The forest ranger has been aware for quite some time that his growing affection for you was no longer platonic, so the thought of being able to call you his – even for only an evening – sounded great to him. “I don't see why not.” You smile upon hearing his answer. “perfect! I'll see you tomorrow!” 
Dinner with your family was relatively nice. It might be because your parents are too busy bombarding Tighnari with questions to pay attention to you or perhaps it's because Tighnari is by your side, hand on your thigh. The whole family seemed pleasantly surprised by your boyfriend, your cousins going as far as asking you for boy advice – something you never thought would happen – all due to Tighnari's acting. Acting that seemed a little too real, so real that you're reminded of why you came to develop romantic feelings for your long time friend. Your family deemed Tighnari worthy of you, especially your mother, who seemed overjoyed to know you're in a relationship with such a serious, handsome young man. Both of you announced that you were leaving when questions about childrens and marriage came into the conversation. Tighnari insisted on walking you home, keeping up the boyfriend act until you reached your house. “Now that we're done pretending, can I take you out on a real date?” you're not sure if you heard him correctly, heart beating so fast it's all you can hear. “what?” “i like you, can i take you out on a date?” oh, ok so you did hear him right. to say you're happy is an understatement, you're not even able to keep a straight face, smile forming without your own accord “yes, I'll look forward to it”
Cyno
You enter Lambad's Tavern and let your body fall on one of the chair at a table. Your friends; Kaveh, Tighnari, Al-Haitham and Cyno move their attention from their TCG game to you. Kaveh is the first to break the silence. “What's the matter?” you sigh “family dinner. I may or may have not told my parents that i have a boyfriend.” you can hear the quiet snort Al-Haitham lets out, probably thinking you dug that grave yourself. “so.. when's the dinner?” “tomorrow night.” Tighnari lets out a long sigh, putting down his cards. “you're fucked, i dont think you'll be able to get a boyfriend on such short notice” a few rounds of TCG are played in silence while you try to find an reason your parents would believe as to why your boyfriend couldn't make it. Kaveh, having lost yet another round, put his cards down. “hey Cyno you said you didn't have anything to do this weekend right? why don't you go with y/n?”  an innocent smile arbording his lips 
“Why didn't you tell me?” “tell you what?” “that you are dating THE general Mahamatra!?” your eyes narrow looking at your sister “we aren't dating, i told you it's just so mom and dad get off my back.” Now it's your sister's turn to look at you weirdly “oh really? then you guys are awfully good at this whole ‘we are in love’ act.” She makes a face. “ I’ve seen the way Cyno looks at you. It's not the usual, super serious, downright scary look he always has. He looks at you like you're a gift from the gods''  To say you are taken aback is an understatement. Cyno? looking at you like that?? there is no way, you would have noticed. if not Kaveh would have probably said something. Since you’ve let slip out your feelings for the general, Kaveh has been trying to push the both of you together, which lead to several awkward moments. The ride home is quiet, Cyno insisted on taking you home even after you left your family's house. He suddenly stops, and turns to you, serious as ever. “I know you have feelings for me, and I do too. If you are interested I would like to be your boyfriend. for real this time” your mouth opens and closes, nothing coming out of it. “yeah I'd like that.” Cyno smiles, looking relieved. He accompanies you to your door, hugging you before taking his leave. “Hey Cyno, how do you know??” “Kaveh told me” “I'm gonna kill him”
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repost, likes and comments are appreciated. Requests are open!
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w1ldthoughts · 3 months
Text
Crooked Smile
Anon requested angst
Warnings: Mention of body image issues
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The veneer craze. The ozempic epidemic. This intense and overwhelming need to have a perfect smile and be super skinny, while also having an hourglass figure and a perfectly perky yet fat ass. Thanks to the BBL. You had absolutely no problem with people getting cosmetic surgeries, your body your choice, and you weren’t going to judge anyone for wanting to make themselves feel good. But it did contribute to very unhealthy beauty standards that were becoming more impossible to follow. It really didn’t help that your boyfriend was a celebrity and every function that you went to was full of women who made you feel a little (a lot) like you didn’t belong.
After the last time at Jack’s you couldn’t stop thinking about the way you looked. Every time you walked past a mirror you stopped to look at yourself for a minute. Maybe you could lose a few pounds and have less midnight snacks. Maybe some Invisalign wouldn’t hurt, you knew it would but with the way you were feeling about yourself right now, you’d take the tooth pain over this crippling bout of insecurity and self doubt. You probably hadn’t analyzed yourself this much since you were in high school. This feeling wouldn’t last forever, you knew that, but sometimes you just gotta throw yourself a pity party and recharge your batteries. You were supposed to have a date night with Jack but you lied and told him you were sick and that you’d see him another time.
You knew immediately who was knocking on your door and interrupting your This Is Us rewatch, using it to distract from your own turmoil. Like fighting fire with…more fire. Using your sleeve to wipe your eyes, you sniffled and paused the devastating show to let Jack in.
“Baby, what’s wrong? I knew I should’ve come over earlier.” He immediately placed a hand on your forehead, looking you over for any other signs of distress. “You don’t feel warm. Does your stomach hurt?”
“No Jack, I’m fine.” You took his hand off of you and wrapped your arms around yourself. “Just not really feeling like myself and going out tonight just didn’t seem like the best idea.”
Jack nods, understanding the feeling. Sometimes he didn’t feel like going out either and he wasn’t about to force you to do anything, especially not with the way your shoulders were slumped and the fact that the usual light in your eyes wasn’t there. “Well, would it be okay if I sit and watch your show with you? Haven’t seen much of you lately and to be real, I miss you a little.”
The last part made you crack a smile, a genuine one. “Fine. But don’t ask me a million questions or I’m just gonna turn it off.”
“No promises.” He laughs, plopping himself down in the middle of the couch. You originally parked your body next to him but when his hands wrapped themselves around your stomach, it made you feel weird and overly exposed. Excusing yourself to go to the bathroom, you tried to mentally snap out of it, slightly embarrassed that Jack’s friends’ comments were affecting you the way they were. You walked back to the couch, settling down on one end of it, creating some space between you and your boyfriend.
“What the hell? Why are you so far away?”
“I just want my own space for a little bit, we don’t need to be up under each other every second of the day.” You didn’t even trust your own words, opting to keep it in a hushed tone.
And he called your bluff immediately, grabbing the remote to pause the show. “Look I didn’t come here to press you or anything I just—is there something going on with us? I mean you’ve barely answered my texts, you canceled our plans today and now you can’t even stand to be near me. What’s going on?”
Now you felt guilty, on top of everything else. “It’s not you Jack,” you sigh, scooting over to grab his hand in reassurance. “I really didn’t wanna do this because I don’t want this to become a thing but—something happened at your party the other night.” You feel him tense up, a slight crack in his jaw from how hard he had just gritted his teeth. “I was walking back into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and I heard Cope and Nemo talking about me. They were basically talking about how you could do so much better and how my looks aren’t up to par and it was just really shitty. And I know they’ve been at your place all week hanging out so I really just haven’t been in the headspace to be around them.”
He narrows his eyes at you and pulls his hand away. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”
“Because I didn’t want to cause a scene at your party, it wasn’t the time.”
“So you thought that ignoring me and isolating yourself, going on this emotional downward spiral would just what? Make it all better?”
You were taken aback by his reaction but you genuinely didn't have the energy to do this today. “Jack, my reaction or the way that I’m handling it isn’t the point. The point is that your friends were being assholes and you’re more concerned with me than with what they said about me. Why is that?”
“Because you know how they are! They get a little drunk or a little high, sometimes both and they just start spewing random shit. You can’t take them serious. And maybe you got things out of context. Did you hear the entire conversation?”
He had to be joking…right?
Taking a deep breath, you tried to compose yourself before losing your mind. All you wanted today was a nice, relaxing time to find your inner peace but instead here you were. “Let me be clear, I don’t care if I walked in at the very last second of their stupid little conversation. I heard some hurtful things and I heard my name attached to them. That should be enough.”
Jack lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head,“you’re just being sensitive right now, maybe your period is coming or something cause this really isn’t that deep. Like I said before, you know how they get, I’m sure it was just jokes.”
“Yeah everything may be a fucking joke to you, including my feelings.” You moved away from him, “but I don’t find any of this funny. Which is why I told you I needed some space. And you won’t even respect that.” Your voice cracks, feeling the tears stinging your eyes even though you thought you’d done enough crying today. “You think don’t I see the comments? Or hear the shit people say about me? That I’m not pretty enough or smart enough or that you could easily do so much better. I get that from complete strangers all the time. But to hear your friends say it? Your people? That hurts Jack.”
“I just really don’t think this is that big of a deal.” He tries to reason and diffuse the situation. “They probably don’t even mean any of that shit, you can’t take it to heart.”
The walls that you had built from your failed relationships in the past had been torn down by Jack, brick by brick. You felt safe with him, cared about and cared for. And in this moment, he was public enemy number one.“Do you think I’m the fucking ‘boy who cried wolf?’ I’ve NEVER said anything to you about this before and it isn’t the first time it’s happened but I didn’t want to make it a big deal. And here you are defending them, you’re supposed to be on my side?” You didn’t even notice you were yelling.
“Oh my god I am on your side!” He raises his voice, “I just think this is all one big misunderstanding and you shouldn’t get so worked up about it.”
“Oh my god you—you know what I’m not even gonna do this anymore. You win.” You stand up from your seat, not breaking eye contact with him. “Respectfully, I think you should get the fuck out. I really need to take care of myself right now and you’re not making it any better so you should probably just go.”
He remains stationary on your couch, still staring at you.
“Jack, are you losing your hearing or something? I said you need to leave. Now please.”
He stands up, walking towards you to try to pull you into his arms, “babe—”
You back away. “No. Don’t do that. Don’t try to cutesy pet name your way out of this. I told you that something happened and it hurt me and you refuse to listen so you can go. I’m done talking about it.”
The man finally takes your words seriously, grabbing his stuff and walking to the door. He closes it without another word, leaving you to think about how the hell you even got there. There isn’t even enough sadness in your body anymore to cry, you’re shaking with rage at the fact that your boyfriend chose to defend his boys over caring about your feelings. It was simple, he didn’t care about you and they definitely didn’t, so what was the point? It was time to move on.
Two days later, he was being completely ignored by you. He’d spent some time licking his wounds and was really starting to regret the way he reacted. His first instinct had always been to defend his people, his boys especially. They had been with him since he was working at Chick-fil-A and didn’t have anything remotely valuable to his name and they had never switched up on him, so why should he? And maybe that had been a part of the problem. He never told them “no” or that he didn’t like something because…that just wasn’t the relationship. They were grown men and Jack wasn’t about to tell another grown man how to act. But in this case, he probably should have listened to you and at least talked to Cope and Nemo about what they said, secretly hoping that it wasn’t as bad as you made it seem.
“Bro, I gotta talk to y’all about something. And I’m being forreal.”
Nemo sat next to him on the couch and Cope was across from him. “What’s up? You look like somebody kidnapped your dog.” Cope jokes and Nemo laughs a little, but Jack just clears his throat.
“Okay so…I need to ask y’all about the party last weekend. Y/n heard you talking about her and she was super pissed and we got into this big ass argument about it. So…what exactly was said?”
“Oh shit,” Nemo looks down at the ground. “Look bro we didn’t mean for her to hear all that—”
“But it was all facts.” Cope finishes for him. “All we said was that she’s kind of a bum and you can and should do a lot better than her. I mean the girls that we bring around and that’s who you picked? I don’t wanna judge but—”
Jack holds a hand up to stop him from continuing. “Imma be real, I don’t really give a fuck what y’all think. That’s my girl bro, like my fucking girlfriend who heard you talking shit about her and it made her feel bad. And I defended you because I thought that my best friends would be supportive and I don’t know…not shitty to someone I love? Guess that’s my bad for assuming.”
“I’m sorry, it definitely wasn’t our place to comment on your relationship. You know when that liq starts to hit—”
“Guess you didn’t fucking hear me. I said I defended your dumbasses. I basically chose y’all over her and now you’re sitting here like this shit is sweet?”
Cope tries to open his mouth but Jack cuts him off again, “Not even gonna lie I need you both outta my sight for the next couple days. I can’t believe this. And Cope, you really shouldn’t be commenting about anybody’s appearance when you permanently look like the Avatar. Think about when you’re 50 and how that’s gonna look.”
He knew he was lashing out but he couldn’t believe how wrong he was and how hard he had belittled your feelings. You two always talked about the unreal expectations for people, especially women and now he had contributed to the problem in the largest way. There was no concrete plan to remedy the situation but he damn sure had to try.
When you didn’t answer after the first four times he knocked, he thought about breaking the door down but that was a TMZ story waiting to happen. He just kept knocking and knocking until you opened the door.
“Can I help you?”
He didn’t realize how nervous he was until you were standing in front of him. “I’m so sorry. I know that won’t, that it’s not enough—I fucked up. I should’ve listened to you and I didn’t. Instead I got super defensive and didn’t want to acknowledge that my friends were being shitty and—”
“I forgive you.” You interrupt, facial expression remaining stead. “I’m over it.”
“You—you’re…over it?”
“Yeah,” you shrug. “I had some really hard mental health days and it sucked but I realized that I like who I am. I love who I am, actually. Crooked smile, stretch marks, love handles…whatever. It’s me and I don’t want that to change, for anyone.”
Jack smiles, letting out a sigh of relief. “Good because I was about to give you this big speech about how you’re perfect to me and for me and not to let anyone make you think any different. But it looks like you came to that conclusion on your own.”
You nod, a smirk forming on your lips. “Did you need anything else?”
“N—no. I uh…I wanted to just see if we were okay? Things got pretty heated the other night and I feel horrible for not taking your side. I’m so fucking sorry.”
You can’t contain the burst of laughter that comes out. “Sorry this isn’t funny, it's just…Jack I needed you. I needed you to believe me, to trust me, to defend me, to comfort me. Shit something—anything. But you tried to gaslight me into thinking I was dramatic when I know what I heard. And then you defended your idiot ass friends tooth and nail to the point where we were screaming at each other. I got myself out of this, I remembered who the fuck I am on my own. I remembered how beautiful and smart and worthy I am. On my own. So what the hell do I need you for? Let me answer that for you, I don’t. I don’t need you. I don’t need this. The belittling, the shit talking, the toxicity. I don’t need any of it..”
Looking him up and down, seeing the tears swimming in his eyes, a very different scene from days ago, and you shake your head. “You and I? Baby, we’re done. Have fun with the boys, you all deserve each other.”
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love-bitesx · 10 months
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HII!!! how are you?? i love your writing so much‼️‼️ i have an actual question and then a request for fic or yk what i mean?
the question is do you take anons? like emoji anons so like you know whos who while stillmbeing able tl be anonymous? if you do could i be one? and if i can be an emoji anon could i be 🪐? (im just writing all this on one ask so it wont be a hassle yk?)
and as for the request i was wondering if you could write hobie with a fem reader (can be gender neutral idc) who love’s physical touch but has sensory issues/overloads where sometimes even when like just holding hands they random tuck their hand away and get annoyed or irritated from all kinds of physical touch but still love it? idk how to explain it all that well😓😓 like the reader’s love language is physical touch but they dont ask for it and mostly think they dont deserve it due to being touch starved and now that hobie came along they love the touch but the sensory issues/overloads make it harder??
im so sorry if this is confusing🙏🏼🙏🏼 also you dint have tk write this if you dont want to its completely understandable!! love your work sm‼️
take care🫶🏼
HIII IM SORRY THIS GOT LOST COMPLETELY, HI 🪐 ANON ILY !! i absolutely will take emoji anons i love all my little anon/requesters ur all angels
sensory issues r icky!!! i struggle with them massively, especially in relationships – i get it!! this is a safe space for anything like that, and any neurodivergent readers/requesters!! i love u all
hobie x reader w sensory issues!!
- initially, he’d be defensive about it
- as in the very first time you denied his touch, purely because he’d be convinced you’re mad at him.
wringing your wrists, you breathed a shaky sigh of relief as peace restored itself in your head, sitting yourself down on your sofa, letting yourself relax. it’d been a tough day, with even tougher emotions, and your chest burnt with tension, skin crawling at the feeling of your jumper against it. movement sounded somewhere in the apartment, but you ignored it, just allowing yourself a moment of peace.
until, you felt a hand slide itself into yours, the sofa dipping in weight as hobie threw himself next to you. a conflicted wave of emotions hit you, immediate comfort filling your chest at the feeling of your dear boyfriends touch after a long day – but your skin surged with irritation, brain overwhelming itself with noise, causing you to rip your hand away.
“darlin’?” hobie’s voice was small, concern lacing it’s words.
“i-i just need to be alone, hobie,” you avoided his gaze, pushing yourself up off the sofa and heading to your room. he followed, not unlike a lost puppy, wracking his brain to see if maybe he’d upset you.
“did i do somethin’, y/n?” his tone was sterner, almost defensive.
“no, no, i just–” you sighed, hands shaking slightly as you attempted to surprise the growing annoyance in your chest, “i just need a little space, i need to be on my own right now.”
- he would take your words completely differently, thinking you meant space from him
- but once you explained that it wasn’t him specifically, purely just your brain deciding that hey! now everything suddenly feels disgusting and fills you with ungodly rage, he was a lot more considerate & understanding.
- took him a little while, purely because he was obsessed with your touch, literally drunk off it most days.
- his natural stance was with you, leant against you or arm suspended over your shoulders, so it took him some time to get used to that not happening occasionally.
- he’d learn little ways to ask you if it’s okay
- mostly, he would just outright ask “a’right if i touch you, pretty?” and wait for your answer patiently
- but if you’re out and about, or maybe with others, and he can see that you’re overwhelmed and possibly even verbally shutdown, he had a little routine:
- he’d be subtle with it, tapping his own knee or a subtle wave to catch your eyeline, and once you were watching, he’d interlock his own hands, a questioning look in his eye.
- if you nodded, he’d be all over you, content with the feeling of you
- if you shook your head, or averted his gaze, he’d simply smile, and wait patiently for you to come to him
- more than anything, he just wants to learn from you – learn what you like, what you don’t like, how he can help when you’re overwhelmed, if he even can, etc.
- he’d be sooooo patient my god
- he’d literally wait for hours, even longer if it meant you would be comfortable and happy
he’s just happy to have u by his side and call you his!! he doesn’t mind if he can’t touch you all the time, and he never takes any outbursts or bad moods to heart, he understands it’s hard for you
if other people weren’t as understanding, though — maybe friends draping themselves over you, hugging you, nudging you, etc. when your sensory issues were more prevalent, he’d be the first one to your defense
bonus:
if you had verbal shutdown, he’d carry around a little notepad in his pockets at all times, even when you’re not around (he just got used to carrying it). he likes seeing the little drawings and doodles you do, little kisses you put on the page for him when you can’t express it yourself physically, or verbally.
he just loves u a lot.
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Jealous Type ❙ ES Megatron x f!robot reader ❙ NSFW 18+
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Word count: 2000+
Warnings: Smut ( Oral and spike in valve ), jealous behaviour, mentions of past relationship, some angst and happy ending. NSFW 18+.
Notes: Honestly, I love the Megatron from earthspark. We all see a side to him we haven’t before and I think it’s beautiful. Thanks anon for senidng this in. It turned out much more fluffy. Also I made the reader robot as you didn’t spesify, so hope that’s alright. 🥰
Added notes: I had so many issues posting this. For some reason this wasn’t appearing anywhere. This will be my fourth attempt in posting it. Had to test around with the tags to see what the issue was. I’m unsure why this happened, and I'm still unsure. But just checking the feeds and it seems to be working now, so it just fixed itself I think? Posting again and fingers crossed it behaves.
Coffee ☕
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You both came from the same lifestyle back on Cybertron. You followed him during those times during the rebellion. You joined his side when he formed the decepticons, no matter what, you swore to serve him. That’s how things grew more between you two, and you both grew to even love one another. But like all good things it doesn’t last forever as the war rages on. There was never any time for either of you, and you drifted apart so bluntly. Nonetheless you continue to follow him, no matter how much it stung when he merely treats you like one of his soldiers and not his lover anymore.
For so long it continues, and suddenly he changes and sides with Optimus. At the time you were pissed. After everything, all the sacrifices, everything you did for him, what was it all for? As expected the decepticons pretty much turned their backs on their former leader, ignoring his excuses. You weren’t upset about the cause but more like Megatron for dragging you through every struggle for so long, only to leave you still hanging over the edge. What you hated more was that you still loved the bastard.
You chose to not hang around, leaving the decepticons and Megatron to their silly games and hide around on the new planet you reside on. Earth. Oddly enough you find a peaceful beauty on the planet, and choose to use this to try and recover yourself from all that time ago. It doesn’t last though, of course it doesn’t. The all spark was gone, or sent back to Cybertron, and the space bridge was destroyed. You were all stranded here. Fantastic.
It doesn’t take you long to figure out about G.H.O.S.T. and how they’re tracking down decepticons. Megatron was offering changes, to work together, for the sake of their world and species. The words from Optimus that somehow got hardwared in that thick lug nut processor of his. You don’t want to be part of that, not yet at least. It’s not that you didn’t understand why Meagtron was working with Optimus, you did, but he hurt you and you hated to simply give in.
You avoiding being captured was about to run out eventually. G.H.O.S.T. find you and drag you back to their base where you’re about to be put in prison, but this is stopped by Megatron. He vouched for you, much to your surprise, before asking you the big question. Will you join us?
Your answer is yes.
Now you worked with G.H.O.S.T who you didn’t like or trust at all. There is something off about them, and even Megatron made a few comments about his mistrust of them, but Optimus asks to give them a chance to prove themselves. It’s not like there is much you can say or do anyway, just work as a team.
Megatron is different, older you remark to yourself, but it’s like the war is still raging in his processor in a silent never ending scream. He looks tired and worn down, yet he continues to thrive being the Megatron you know. You want to talk to him about everything, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to do this. Expressing is something you haven’t done in a long time and there are reasons you stopped so long ago. You decide to leave it and just try to move on. This proves to be near difficult, so you distract yourself however you can.
Flirting. It just started as harmless flirting. You didn’t think much of it at the time. Optimus didn’t seem to mind either, even looking rather flattered with himself, but you did catch Elita sending you a few glares if she might’ve overheard. You know not to tread on that turf, not that you were interested anyway. Though it wasn’t just Elita that noticed but Megatron as well.
“Why are you playing around with Optimus?” His stern voice is heard and you turn to face him through narrowed optics.
“Excuse me? I’m not playing around with anyone.”
“You’re flirting with him. Are you smitten by him?” His tone grows annoyed causing you to scoff lightly in amusement.
“No, and even if I was, why does that bother you?”
“You know damn well why it bothers me.”
“What’s this? The mighty Megatron is jealous? Grow up. There’s nothing between you and me anymore, you made that very clear. I can flirt with whoever I want.”
“Me? We were at war! You wanted so much more that couldn’t be given. You decided to end things because you weren’t patient enough.”
“Don’t you dare put the blame on me! Yes, I wanted more, I wanted us to build a future together but you were so focused on leading the decepticons there was no time for us.”
“How could we have built a future in the middle of a war?!” He’s booming now. The old Megatron flickered across your view for a short moment.
“I don’t know, but you certainly didn’t try very hard. You gave up on us and I chose to ignore it all because I believed in you still. Now here we are, and all for what? For you to side with Optimus. I loved you, I gave myself to you, I dragged myself in all sorts of smelting pits for you! You broke my spark, and it still hurts.”
“You’re making it all about you.” His answer took you off guard. “You think you were the only one that was hurt? Don’t pretend that you are the innocent one. I wanted you to be patient for us but you couldn’t do that and decided for yourself that we were over. You never spoke to me about it, never mentioned it ever again, just pretended all was fine. Now that hurt me.”
Your optics beam with tears as he steps closer saying all this. How dare he? It wasn’t your fault! He’s the one that chose to ignore you.
“Go frag yourself.” You can only whisper. He’s so close to you, which causes you to shove at his large chest. “Frag you!”
You don’t know how it happened, but he’s suddenly kissing you. You feel him holding your shoulders firmly as he presses his lips against your own, feeling desperate.
You react by pushing him away and slapping him. He looks defeated when you do this. You allow everything to sink in and you suddenly feel bad for hitting him. Reaching up you touch his cheek plating where you had hit him. He doesn’t flinch, and instead you watch as his optics shuttered closed and lean into your touch, letting out a warm purr that vibrates against your servo. You still loved the bastard.
Stepping closer you move your servos along his shoulder plating. Your height difference never affected your ability to touch or hold him before. He leans closer again, slowly this time, grazing his lips against your audio making you exhale softly from the tender contact. He moves his helm back in front of you and you’re the one to kiss him then, deeply, desperate yourself.
Suddenly he moves you both into the nearest room. Empty. But at least it wasn’t out in the open for anyone to see within the base. He presses you against the wall and lets out a groan against your lips, glossas dominating one another before he’s on his knees before you so fast.
“W-what are you doing?”
“Winning you back.”
You feel both his glossa and dentas against your inner thigh then, nibbling and sucking against your soft metal skin as he raises your leg up onto his shoulder.
“Oh…” You can only gasp out which is soon followed by a growing moan, arising arousal rushing through your entire frame making you quiver in delight. When you feel his glossa run up against your closed panel you suddenly retract it and press your exposed valve down against him.
Megatron lets out a deep moan that shakes from your aching valve as he tastes your sweet fluids, rolling his glossa into your depths and uses that along with his vibrations against your node, stimulating your valve and worshipping you on his knees.
Your helm tilts back against the wall as you tighten your thighs around his helm, grinding down gently against his face as you press your servo at the back of his helm, keeping him there as you ride yourself against him. Heated gasps leave you as your rocking motions increase, as do the movements of his glossa.
You can feel yourself growing more hot and aroused, your overload quickly building as you continue to rock yourself in the perfect sync with his glossa, before it’s suddenly gone and he’s standing back up.
“I was getting close…” You snarl at him through annoyed optics.
He only chuckles light at your annoyance. “Darling, I only wish to savour every bit of you. Besides,” He leans closer and whispers into your audio, “don’t you want me to frag you?”
You respond by letting out a shaky vent, hearing his panel retract and watching his extensive spike eject out between you both. Oh you’ve missed him.
“Yes, frag me senseless.”
Grabbing hold onto his shoulders again you wrap your legs tightly around his broad waist, feeling him kissing you delicately before he slides himself inside your drenched valve.
Megatron’s cable stretches you fully, every ridge and pulse flutters against your inner walls as your node grinds against his base. With your arms wrapped around the back of his neck you gaze lustfully into his optics before kissing him again more firmly, rocking your hips down along his spike causing you both to moan deeply.
He holds you steady against the wall and begins to increase the pace of his thrusts, slow and strong thrusts that push every inch of his length inside you, pushing out heated moans from you over again.
Your back scraps against the wall he had you pressed against as you held on tightly around his rocking large figure against you. At that point you didn’t care who would hear either of you, and relished every thrust delivered to you. He continues this pace before finally increasing his thrusts, grunting firmly as he grew close to his own overload, practically rutting into you.
“Megatron…frag…oh primus!” You can’t help but cry out as your node is stimulated against him, your overload suddenly comes crashing through your entire frame and lets out a blissful cry into his neck.
He thrusts into you firmly a few more times before he stiffens and you feel his trans fluids soak your inner depths along with a deep rumbled moan muffled into your shoulder by him.
He keeps you between himself and the wall, his twitching spike still buried deep in you while you savoured every moment with him. Gently, he presses his helm against the front of yours and lets out a long and deep vent.
“Can we try again?” You hear him ask you, and you can’t help but smirk softly.
“Us? Or interfacing?” He responds with a hearty chuckle.
“Both.”
You already know your answer. “We can.” You grab his chin firmly between your digits then. “But I swear, hurt me and I’ll personally offline you myself.”
“I expect no one else to do such a thing.” He leans his helm into your digits before kissing your inner palm making you smile tenderly. You missed that stupid old handsome face.
“Good. Let’s continue this in your quarters. I want you to frag me into oblivion.” You feel yourself smirk before he removes himself and lowers you down. He’s growing semi hard again you take notice.
“Let’s go than, darling.” He fixes himself up but you know it’s uncomfortable for him before you finally accept his offered servo on your own and let him lead you to his private quarters.
Perhaps there is hope for you both to have a future.
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slytherheign · 9 months
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LATE NIGHT VISITOR | tasm!peter parker
PAIRING: college!tasm!peter parker x nursing student!fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 2.7k
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SUMMARY: a late-night review session for your exams is interrupted when your past disguised as a web-slinging hero with a facial injury comes knocking on your apartment window asking you for help.
WARNINGS: cursing, injuries, trust issues, anxiety, maybe some inaccuracies because i’m not a medical expert, and A LOT of tension. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]
AUTHOR’S NOTE: partly based on this request sent by anon (thanks for requesting! whoever you are, i’m sorry this took so long. i hope you enjoy this). i added the backstories and the reader being a nursing student plot just to make things more interesting. peter is a college student too but he goes to a different school (i didn’t specify his course bc it’s not that important). again, this is fluff with angst. enjoy reading!
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DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO BACK TO THE STATION. CLICK HERE FOR ALL THINGS LATE NIGHT VISITOR (reviews, commentary, etc. about this fic).
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The repetitive clicking of a pen was all that could be heard in your room. It was late at night and you were trying to review your notes for an exam tomorrow. You glanced at the digital clock beside your pen holder, sighing as you realized midnight was approaching.
You took a sip of your coffee, hoping the caffeine would be enough to keep you awake for at least a few more hours. You still had 37 pages left to review, you couldn’t afford to fall asleep right now. When you realized that coffee wasn’t enough to keep you awake, you decided to plug in your earphones and play some music from your phone. 
For a moment you thought you heard something outside your window but you shrugged it off, assuming that it was just a branch hitting your window as the wind blew quite harshly at this time of the night. 
But then the noise continued and you had to pause the music to hear it properly. 
Knock, knock, knock.
Confused, you removed the earphones from your ears to investigate the noise. You grabbed a lamp from your bedside table as you took slow little steps to your window. From where you were, you could see someone’s silhouette against the white curtains. The knocking didn’t stop and grew louder with every second, it made you nervous. This was the kind of thing you watched happen in horror movies.
You prepared yourself for a fight as you set aside the curtains, fully expecting to see a thief or someone dangerous. To your surprise, the person was Spider-Man—the city hero you constantly observed from your window every night as he swung by building after building.
You hurriedly set down the lamp you held, immediately opening your window right after to let him in. He was breathing heavily, no doubt just fresh from an intense fight. You noticed the way he was struggling to let himself in, so you helped him get inside and led him to sit on the edge of your bed.
“Sorry to intrude,” he apologized, looking around your room. “Looks like you were busy doing something before I came.”
“Oh, I was just reviewing for an exam,” you replied, still in shock at the circumstance. “I-uh… ar-are you okay?”
“No, I actually need your help,” he said, shaking his head. He tried to straighten his back, hissing in pain as he did so. “Shit,” he mumbled.
“What happened?” you asked as you quickly went to your cabinet to grab the medical kit box you use for nursing school. You set it on the bed beside him.
“The usual. Just saving the city. They call me hero, you know,” he chuckled lightly as he saw you jokingly roll your eyes at his answer. “And yet you’re here asking for help from a citizen,” you teased.
“A pretty citizen,” he teased back.
You blushed for a moment before clearing your throat. “Uh–so where do you need my help?”
“My face. He threw his phone at me when he ran off.”
“Well, were you able to catch him?”
“With me on his tail?” he scoffed. “He never stood a chance.”
You washed your hands before sitting beside him. “You’re one lucky person, you know that?” you said, carefully putting your fingers under the edge of his mask as you prepared to take it off.
“How so?” he replied, relishing the feeling of your face close to his.
“Out of all the apartments here, you went into mine all banged up. What a coincidence because I know just how to help you.”
“Well, it’s not really a coincidence since I know you’re a nursing student and you had medical supplies. You’re also the only one I trust who can help me.”
You froze with his words, feeling a sense of fear and betrayal. You just met him, you haven’t told him those details. “How did you know I’m a nursing student?” you asked with a tone of accusation. You immediately stood up straight and removed your hand from his mask.
“Y/N, wait–”
“How did you know my name?”
“Y/N, just listen,” he had his hands up, “I’m not gonna hurt you. Don’t worry. You know me, just wait–”
“What do you mean?”
“Take my mask off and you’ll see.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“Well–uh, because… I’m Spider-Man?” he shrugged and then tried to chuckle. You glared at him.
 “Look, can we please just stay calm?” he pleaded. “If I try to hurt you, which will never happen, you can hurt me back and I won’t even try to fight you.”
When you didn’t reply, he spoke again. “I still need your help with my face. Please?” 
You gave in, hesitantly sitting beside him again. “Fine. But you’re leaving once I’m done.”
“Deal.”
You turned his face, putting a finger… and another… then another… underneath his mask until it was enough for you to be able to remove it. His breathing hitched as you slowly, almost teasingly, pulled his mask up.
Halfway through, you already had an idea of who he was. You recognized those lips. Those lips were unforgettable, you had stared at them countless times when they moved as Peter Parker talked. But Peter Parker can’t be Spider-Man… right?
The more you revealed his face, the faster your heart was beating. Your hand rested on his cheek as you used your other hand to remove the mask fully, you felt him lean into your touch.
When you removed it all completely, the first thing you saw was his long curly eyelashes. His eyes were closed, but when he looked up to meet your eyes, it confirmed just about any suspicions you had about who he was. Peter Parker, your best friend that you haven’t seen for so long, the man you had buried feelings for.
“Peter,” you softly called his name.
“Hi,” he smiled. “See, you didn’t have to worry. I’ll never hurt you.”
You smiled back at him, but then you saw a cut just above his left eyebrow. It must’ve been where the phone had an impact. “You really got hurt pretty bad, huh?”
“Hmm,” he nodded. “Will you help me?” 
“I don’t know… let me think,” you teased. 
He was looking at you like a sad puppy.
“You’re lucky you’re my best friend,” you smiled. You briefly saw him look at your lips. You cleared your throat. “Umm-okay. So first, I’m gonna clean the area around the wound to prevent any infection. It might sting a little, I promise I’ll be quick.”
He watched you as you grabbed a sterile pad and a bottle of antiseptic. You held his chin to steady his face while your other hand gently cleaned the area around his wound. He closed his eyes as you did so, relishing the feeling of your hand on his face.
It didn’t hurt him, he was used to this kind of pain and injury as Spider-Man, but he still whimpered softly just so he could watch you be worried for him. You looked just like you did when you were a little girl being worried for him whenever he injured himself. 
“I’m sorry, look it’s done,” you said, taking a closer look at the cut to examine the extent of the wound. “It’s not too deep, luckily. But we still need to ensure it heals properly. I’ll apply an adhesive strip to help keep the wound closed as it heals,” you smiled, carefully placing the adhesive strip over the cut, you made sure it aligned with the wound’s edges for optimal healing. 
He was still looking at you. He could get used to this—the sight of you taking care of him. Maybe if he had you to take care of his wounds every time, he wouldn’t feel bad about having injuries. He had always admired how soft and caring you are. He used to tease you for that when you were children, but in all honesty, he only did that because he had a crush on you. Growing up, that little crush grew into something stronger. Even after you moved into an apartment away from where he lived, he still checked your social media to get updated on your life. He also visited you sometimes.
“Thank you for doing this,” he whispered. He was scared to move his face, he didn’t want you to move your hand away. You looked at his eyes, not for too long though, because you knew that if you stared for more than 3 seconds, you’d fall deep into his eyes and do something you weren’t sure he’d want you to do. “I could never say no to you,” you whispered back.
You weren’t sure why you were both whispering, it wasn’t as if you two were scared of making noises. Maybe because you were scared to break the tension that surrounded the two of you. You were so close to him, too close. You knew that it wasn’t too long until one of you had to act on it. If someone did act on it, the line between friendship and something more would be crossed and you’d risk losing each other completely if someone didn’t feel the same.
“There we go. The adhesive strip should hold the skin together. It might be a bit uncomfortable, but it will ensure a better, faster recovery.”
Peter didn’t want you to stop. He hoped this wasn’t the last step.
“Finally, we need to apply a sterile gauze pad to absorb any potential bleeding. I’ll secure it in place with some medical tape.”
The word ‘finally’ made Peter disappointed. After this, what would happen? Would the two of you just go back again to being the two best friends who were too busy with their lives that they barely saw each other? Could he really leave this apartment without having to feel your lips on his?
You gently placed a sterile gauze pad over the area, making sure it covers the cut adequately. You then carefully taped the pad down, ensuring it stayed in place. “The gauze pad will provide an extra layer of protection and help absorb any additional drainage from the wound. Make sure to keep it clean and change it regularly…” you realized this was the last step. In contrast to what you told him earlier, you didn’t want him to leave yet. “Or you could just visit me here again and I’ll clean and change it for you.”
Peter frowned as your hand left his face, he watched you gather your supplies and put them in the box. You stood up, putting the box back to where you got it before washing your hands again. You didn’t know what to do after that, so you just sat beside him again with your head down.
No one dared to speak for a moment. 
It was Peter who broke the silence. “Thank you, Y/N.”
You looked at him to see he was already looking at you. “It was my pleasure, Peter.”
“You’re not angry? Or surprised that I’m Spider-Man? I kept a huge secret from you,” he asked.
“Surprised? Yes. Angry? No,” you admitted. “I mean, we grew up. We don’t see each other often anymore. It was inevitable that there are gonna be things we don’t know about each other anymore.”
“We used to be inseparable,” Peter spoke, remembering the memories you two had before you both went to different schools for college. “What happened to us?”
“Life,” you stated sadly. “We got busy.” 
Peter smiled, a hint of pain behind it. “I’m sorry if I didn’t visit you here that much.”
You reached out to hold his hand. “No, I’m sorry. I got too busy with my course. Sometimes, I forget to reply to your texts. I was so focused on chasing my dreams, I don’t even realize that I’ve completely shut people out.”
He stroked your cheek with his hand, wiping a tear that escaped from your eye. “I missed you so much, Y/N.”
“I missed you too, Pete. So much,” you leaned into his touch. 
“What if I told you that I actually didn’t need your help? As Spider-Man, I’m used to these injuries. I’ve learned how to fix them myself.”
You looked at his eyes; he was looking down. “But you still decided to knock on my window…”
“Yes… it’s just–” he paused. “Honestly, I don’t know,” he admitted. “I see your apartment window every night, always wanting to show myself to you. But I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see me, so I end up just sitting on a rooftop ledge staring at your silhouette against your curtained window. I don’t know what came over me tonight, I have no idea where I got the courage–I just know that I missed you so much. After I got wounded, I longed for your touch so I made my injury an excuse so I can see you.” 
“The fact that you had to make excuses just to see me means I’ve failed at being a best friend.” 
“Y/N, no. Don’t say that. I got busy too… and too afraid. All I had to do was knock on your window but I didn’t. The fear always got me.”
“The fear of what?” you asked through your tears.
“The fear of you not wanting to see me. The fear of you moving away again.”
“You really thought that I wouldn’t want to see you?”
“I-I don’t know, maybe? Or maybe the real fear is rejection. I’m scared of you rejecting me.”
“Peter, why would I reject you?”
He still wouldn’t look at you. You held his chin up and turned his face so you could look at him. “Tell me, why would I reject you?” you repeated your question.
“Because I don’t want us to go back to what we used to,” he finally looked at you. “I don’t want us to barely see each other again. I want to be able to see you every day if I can. I don’t want us to have a reason to ignore each other’s messages or calls again. Yes, we can be busy, but I want us to be busy together.  I don’t want us to fall apart again. I-I want us to be together… I want us to be something more.”
You didn’t know the words to reply, so instead you pulled him into a kiss. Peter’s eyes widened. He was already planning to kiss you, he didn’t expect you to beat him and do it first to him. The kiss was long and full of meaning—your lips may not be able to say the right words for an apology, but it did the job in the form of a kiss.
You both laughed the moment you pulled away but sadness and guilt washed over you again. “Sorry for shutting you out,” you apologized. He kissed you again. “Shh. Let’s just start over, okay?”
“Okay,” you agreed. Your eyes caught the digital clock on your desk. It was way past midnight and you still haven’t finished reviewing for your exam which was now just hours away. You immediately straightened up. “Shit.”
“What is it?” Peter asked.
“My exams.”
Peter looked at your clock and the books on your table. He then noticed you getting anxious beside him. “Hey, look at me.”
You stayed staring at the clock before Peter stood up and blocked your view of the clock with his face. He knelt in front of where you sat on the bed. “It’s gonna be okay,” he smiled. “Let’s make it a mission, okay? Let’s do it like this… I’ll help you review and our goal is to finish it in an hour. And then after that, you can still get some sleep.”
“In an hour?”
“Yeah. I know we can do it.”
“ Are you serious?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
“No.”
“Then I’m serious. Come on,” he stood up, pulling you with him.
An hour, two coffees, and 37 pages later, you both found yourselves laying with your backs on the floor. “I told you we can do it,” he chuckled.
You turned your body so you could face him, he did the same so he could face you. “Thank you for helping me review, Peter,” you said quietly.
“You’re welcome. I didn’t do it for free though,” he replied jokingly.
“Oh, is that right?” you asked, smiling.
“Yup, I accept payments in the form of kisses.”
You chuckled before pulling him into another kiss. 
“I should’ve knocked on your window a long time ago,” Peter said after pulling away to catch his breath.
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SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx
TASM!PETER PARKER TAGLIST: @mymilkducts @i-am-woman-strong @lauraneedstochill @jeanettexkillian @ms-mandalore @enaraism @alessandralol @sad-darksoul @sincericida @mentallystablepotato @mich0731 @logolepsic-insomniac @k0miiki @dreamsarecloserwithyou @jumilzzz @primroseparker @preciousbabypeter @myheartonthemove @rebecca-johnson-28 @silkholland @ellievickstar @okkulta @geekygamerchick @starqwerty20 ​ @the-quiet-observer @softiepeterpan @willowhaired @sflame15-blog @pompeygirl89 @remuslupinsdocs
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prince-liest · 1 month
Note
oh my god. your wording in one of ur latest anon answers. does…. is val the only one who does the dumping? does vox never dump val??? i always like… idk i assumed that they both broke it off in a never ending downward spiral, mutually. but oh my GOD? you’re saying val is the only one doing the breaking up? i….. this is shifting my entire perspective on vox. HOLD ON. HOLD ON. not to beat a dead dove here (that was a brilliant pun yes i’m stealing it), but……… this is sliding right into my vault where i keep my Vox and Domestic Violence Thoughts. he just seems so…. helpless. he’s helpless all the time and in complete denial about it. at first it was clear he’s pretty helpless around alastor -in both canon and your fic. alastor is stronger, and also, in the beginning had the Extreme emotional upper hand. i knew this, yet, like in canon, i assumed more or less alastor was the chink in his armor. vox DOES run the vee’s competently, he handles val, and he’s arguably the fourth most powerful sinner in hell (behind zestial, carmilla, and alastor). those 3 things are true, AND YET. let’s look behind the wizards curtain. how does vox live his Personal life. not his job or position of power. how does his close relationships define him. let’s see now. the initial intense obsession with alastor, which had ONLY left him rejected and humiliated. helpless. and now val. i Assume vox enacts some physical violence on val, too, but something in his wording in the last installment. vox made the point to compare alastors straight up murder attempts to how val acts. i do not think vox does that with val, at least not in a trivial and common manner (he has said the vee’s have all killed e/o before). and when i said “sure he can act disgruntled and upset in the moment” in another ask, i MEANT that vox could break up with val for a couple days before crawling right back like nothing happened. but NO. NOT EVEN THAT. vox endures, and he ultimately does Nothing. NOTHING. and not even that, he is subjected to val breaking it off in a cyclic manner, for superficial or nonexistent issues. and then after a week val will call and vox will come crawling back like nothing happened, and the timer for 4 months begins again. through everything, EVERYTHING, vox really just seems… passive in the grand scheme of things. it’s paradoxical, because he’s also outrageously ambitious. i think that’s one of his core character traits, a constant greed and pursuit of it. that’s unequivocally true about him. but then we look at his love life, and what do we see? he lets the two men he loves basically do whatever they want with him. and he does it because he loves them, as well as being unable to admit he’s suffering. i will say, from now on it’s clear that his relationship with alastor is veering off this direction, but i want to STRESS that it was actually ALASTOR that cemented that. vox, in a spurt of emotion, let it slip out his history of domestic violence. then, promptly brushed it off to appease alastor. he set the terms of the deal, but he did it as a silly pinky promise. he, again, never allows himself to take it SERIOUSLY. because IF HE DOES!!!! then he needs to set boundaries AND ABIDE BY THEM!!!!!!!! AND WHAT THEN. WHAT THEN. THEN THE NEXT TIME VAL OR ALASTOR CROSS A LINE, HE NEEDS TO END IT. LEAVE. DO ANYTHING. AND HE IS NEVER GONNA DO THAT!!!!!!!! and here’s the real fucking kicker…… he expects them to. to keep hurting him. that’s the root of it. it’s not a real boundary, because it’s an inevitability. valentino and alastor will always want to hurt him, so a relationship without that violence is nonexistent. (that’s what he believes btw. hopefully not the truth). and so, vox has made his choice. he’s a businessman, and he has weighed the pros and cons. the violence and crossed boundaries he faces is outweighed by his love for them, and ultimately, that means they can do whatever they want to him. he is helpless.
(this was an entire rant, dear god. and of course the disclaimer that this is all my personal delusions, and not necessarily your take on vox in your series. i swear, i never know how these asks get so long. i promise i start of with a simple idea, then it all implodes into an essay. so sorry. love you.) -🌓
I have good news and bad news for you, anon!
The bad news is that I have misled you slightly: My actual full perspective of the Valentino and Vox on-and-off dating situation is that Vox dumps Valentino when he feels a sufficiently angry flavor of upset that Valentino refuses to listen to him on some things (usually not, actually, the violence, unless Val breaks something for Vox to be angry about); and Valentino dumps Vox when he wants Vox to annoyedly pretend not to moon after him for a week. In both situations, sometimes Vox ends up giving up the ghost and functionally crawling his way back to Val, but more commonly Valentino decides that he's had enough and rather handily seduces Vox into a round of what Vox promises himself is hate sex and not makeup sex but is inevitably always very sappy makeup sex with a side of lovebombing.
This is. Arguably not that different of a flavor from what you're describing, haha, especially since a lot of Vox managing to be the one to break things off at any given point in time hinges on him being able to frame his rationale as "anger" rather than "upset," the latter of which just gets brushed under the carpet of Emotions That Are Not Taken Seriously. He can act on a great many things if he justifies them as something he is right to be objective and angry over, including outright killing Valentino at least once at some point in the past, but anything that makes him feel vulnerable or, ah, let's deliberately and pointedly use the word hysterical, is a pre-existing internal struggle that Valentino knows how to manipulate to his advantage.
The good news is that this lovely analysis inspired me to almost completely rewrite a section of the next 666 fic that I'd been dissatisfied with. I initially wrote Vox as annoyed; what he needed to be was Very Stressed And Upset in a way that distinctly refused to dare stray into anger because the fundamental concern was about what Alastor wanted - just as you described, Vox fumbling his own distress with his learned helplessness when it comes to intimate relationships. Anyway, now I'm WAY happier with it! So thank you very much for that!
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ainri · 7 months
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hello! I'm the one who asked for one of illumi (yandere) could you make it headcanons?
illumi zoldyck as a yandere (hcs and drabble.)
•hunter x hunter
•yandere illumi headcanons + small drabble
•mostly fem oriented
•assasin/servant reader
•fic warinings: !dark content!, mentions of death multiple times including reader + reader’s family, insinuated character death at end, forced labor, undergarmnet theft, swear words, mild gaslighting, obsessive thoughts.
•🔞
•masterlist
•a/n: this is my first request so ty!!! tbh i rlly like writing yanderes like its just so fun? anyways someone should really do a crime count because i had to put some extra stuff in the fic warning so that people wouldn’t go crazy on me or call me insensitive 🥰sorry for the wait i completely forgot abt tumblr…..🙊if it doesnt make sense its because i rushed it bc i felt bad for how long i kept my anon waiting (sorry anon pookiebear) and its 1:27am 😞😞
continuation of this post!
<🌟🌟🌟>
-how did you end up this position again?
-oh yeah thats right! your parents were also assasins who just happened to have ‘issues’ with the zoldycks.
-they had personal issues with silva due to a deal gone wrong between the two assassin families.
-how did silva handle getting played by your parents? by sending out an order to kill them.
-but silva is a higher class man with much bigger issues. who’s better to do the job than his son illumi?
-of course the original order was to kill you, your father, and your mother.
-when illumi saw you walking back onto your family’s estate something in him just snapped.
-he just couldn’t help it; he had to have you, no matter the cost.
-that was the moment he realized he couldnt just let you die or kill you.
-you were…special?
-that was the first mission he had ever failed… he just couldnt bring himself to kill you.
-after silva finished beating the shit out of him; illumi had an idea.
-illumi spoke of this idea to silva; to make you a personal servant in return for you and your parents’ lives.
-of course silva agreed, once silva privately told you of this ‘agreement’ you had to agree.
-best to not test the zolycks’ willpower and to not test the waters.
-working as illumi’s personal servant was fine, that was before your panties started disappearing randomly from your laundry bin.
-“master illumi, i hate to bother you with this but have you seen my panties?”
-“no. what are you saying servant?”
-he quickly retorted back, almost, no, way too quickly.
-of course, this all started to add up when the male zoldyck house staff started to ignore you + avoid you like the plague.
-apologizing profusely to you over the smallest mistakes or accidents.
-this was all bizzare…. you needed answers, as quickly as possible.
•••
it was a calm day of cleaning when suddenly you walked in on it—illumi torturing your male coworker who helped you clean the atrium yesterday. “master illumi, what are you doing?” the servant asked horrified and confused,
“none of your business servant-“ he stopped himself to reword his sentence, “you know what? no! i was teaching him a lesson for speaking to you. besides you only belong to me!-right? right? say you belong to me! i killed all of those men—no, boys for you and you can’t even say, ‘thank you master illumi.’!?” he was yelling, now losing his temper.
“master illumi i didnt ask for you to kill for me! whats wrong with you? you-you-you psychopath! youre being completely delusional and irrational!—“
CLANG
all you saw was black as you felt your vision go blurry with illumi hitting you in the head with skme heavy blunted off object.
“i don’t appreciate that (name), i don’t appreciate it at all. you ungrateful woman. all i ever wanted to do was love you. clearly you cant even allow me to do that much. what a shame.”
END
••••••••
©2023 ainri; do not repost my work without credit or repost my work in a different language♡
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ratrrriot · 1 year
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Dear anon: i fucked up and instead of saving this ask to my drafts, i accidentally posted it halfway through writing my answer and then impulsively deleted it. So now i'll have to answer to this screenshot and ask you to pretend its the real thing ,ok? Thank you for the ask and sorry!!! i'm really hoping you'll see this long ass answer🙏
I actually talked about this idea once on twitter but YES, I do think Shadow would certainly have a reaction when seeing Sonic act all brother-ly towards Tails. Especially because i like to think seeing them could trigger some real -not previously manipulated by Gerald- memories of him and Maria. However,rather than jealousy,i believe he would be emotionally confused and have mixed feelings about this.
Note: This is complete headcanon talk, so don't take this as an analysis of who Shadow,sonic,tails and Maria are in canon! Its fanon interpretation
Don't get me wrong. Do i think he was bitter at first,knowing they had what was taken from him? yes, absolutely,but do i think that could fuel his hostility towards Sonic? not really ,Because i don't think that Sonic & Tails reminded him of his own sibling when they first met, mainly because i don't think Shadow remembered Maria was a sister-figure to him until he started recovering his real memories (cuz i doubt Gerald knew they tought of eachother as siblings when he put the fake memories in him),Plus i don't think he noticed how truly brother-ly the bond between those two was until he got to meet them better,which i believe must have happened after a few games anyways. I believe that S & T's relationship reminds him of his and Maria's now.
I think that more than the angry, hurt person he used to be,he is now just a really broken one who's trying to somewhat fix his relationship with the world and his own existence. So while i agree he must have been bitter about this issue at the beggining,i don't think it was the most prevalent feeling this situation caused him.
I believe that in the present -emphasis on present time cuz we all know he hated him with a passion at the beggining- He's mean to Sonic because their egos clash and he doesn't like his attitude (they kinda make the worst side of eachother come out lol) ,but its clear he actually respects him when it comes to their shared values. Their competitivity seems to be a consequence of his superiority complex and more of a source of entertainment to him than anything else. So I think that when Shadow sees how good of a brother Sonic is to Tails,he can't really hate him for it or say that "he doesn't know what he has",cause he knows he is seeing someone who actually knows exactly how precious the bond they have is. Someone who wouldn't hesitate to give his life to protect his little brother, someone who feels inspired by the support and presence of their sibling. Someone like Maria. (At least the Maria from my headcanons;;). The reminder of Maria's absence is always painful and enfuriating ,sure,but more importantly, i think seeing Sonic like that would make him uncomfortable,because the fact that his rival,someone who he used to hate and has fought so many times, can suddenly have SO MUCH in common with the one person who mattered the most to him,is incredibly confusing. Even weirder is the fact that in this situation,the one who's taking his place is Tails. TAILS of all people!!
And that brings A LOT of questions!!! Especially because these could be clues to what kind of people Maria and Shadow used to be,something very important to him and that he has lots of trouble remembering. Like,when Shad was a younger brother too ,was he anything like Tails? and if Tails wasn't born by Sonic's side and instead was found by him...Could Shadow maybe find someone like Maria out there and form a familiar bond again? Did Maria treat him just as Sonic treats Tails? Could Maria have even more things in common with Sonic and Shadow just doesn't remember???
My guy is NOT ready to answer any of these questions (he might be recovering the missing pieces of his broken memory and healing a bit but he still has a long way to go before he can be anything close to emotionally stable) and i'm not sure if he'd like the answers anyways. Plus,at least in my headcanons,his real memories of Maria might bring him joy and nostalgia but also tons of frustration,not just because he can't remember her at will,but also cause he gets the impression that Maria was hiding a lot of sadness and he doesn't remember why.(I imagine she tried to not bother Shad with the weight of her emotions),nor if he could help her in any way.
At the end of the day,Shadow's backstory and the reasons for his creation are the source of his trauma ,And wether he likes it or not,Maria is one of the main parts of all of that. So sometimes he doesn't know if he wants to move on from her or keep dwelling on the past,which is why i believe being reminded of her always brings him comfort ,but also emotional exhaustion ...
And In this case,he is too exhausted to be jealous of Sonic and Tails for having what he has lost.
ANYWAYS. That's just my opinion on the matter,If you think seeing Sonic and Tail's brotherhood would fuel Shadow's hatred,i think that's valid, especially cause at the end of the day it depends on how you'd think Shadow deals with his baggage,and there can be many interpretations for that.
Again,Thanks for the ask!
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lightlycareless · 3 months
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OMGGGGGG PLEASE WRITE NAOMI MEETING NANAMI!!!!
Heya anon!
No need to tell me twice!! I hope you enjoy this little piece of fluff I wrote about Nanami meeting Naomi :> or his general thoughts about the whole ordeal.
warnings: none. fluff. nanami worries for you, as always.
Happy reading!
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Nanami guessed right when saying he wouldn’t be able to keep track of you after the wedding.
As soon as you went onto your honeymoon, you’ve completely disappeared from the world. Asides from the few rumors here and there of the places yournow husband had taken you to celebrate this union… he didn’t hear anything from you.
And that, alongside his new civilian job, Kento didn’t have much time to personally inquiry with your family (or you directly for that matter) about your whereabouts.
But, well, even after all this, he still supposes you’ve been doing well. After all, bad news always spread like wildfire, and if something of that nature happened, he has no doubt he would’ve known by now.
Still, would it be too much to ask of the universe to have good news work the same way?
Probably.
For now, he’ll do with what he heard, which unfortunately, didn’t pertain to you in its majority.
Apparently Naoya had been promoted to 1st grade. Good for him and his thriving career, which he assumes just got busier and busier.
What about you, though? What have you been up to these days? Last thing he knew about your career was that you were planning on retiring to focus on your new life as Naoya’s wife—but what exactly did that entail? And did you end up doing so?
He’ll find the answer soon enough, on one of his unwanted visits to his alma mater.
Nanami never thought he’d be back in this place ever again, certainly not with the way he openly denounced his relationship with the community and made a run for it.
But, as much as he would’ve loved to leave everything behind and dive into his new life, his previous one would always find its way back to him one way or the other, today, it was through some unfinished paperwork he urgently needed to deal with if he was to be promoted into a higher position.
As he walked through the once familiar campus grounds, Nanami toyed with the idea that this was perhaps the higher up’s attempt to rope him back into sorcery work.
It has to be—because there’s no way a school that prided themselves to be amongst the best equipped and prepared in the community could’ve messed up something as silly as missing a copy of his birth certificate; rendering him unable to get his diploma, and thus, impeding his growth on the professional field.
Or maybe they were, and at that point, there’s nothing he can do but give them the benefit of the doubt and go fix whatever issues they’ve unwittingly entangled themselves in, all while hoping he wouldn’t bump into any familiar faces, for he didn’t particularly feel in the mood to entertain either his old classmates, or teachers.
And talking about teachers… Nanami still can’t believe Gojo had decided to become one.
Of all the people the faculty could’ve chosen to guide the next generation, they went with the most irresponsible, arrogant, selfish, childish, immature one they could find.
He hates to think that was the best option, before agreeing that if you had continued to pursue your dream of becoming a teacher, you would’ve been an excellent one, far more than Satoru. Maybe.
Either way, Nanami still hoped for a lot of things.
Hoped that he wouldn’t meet familiar faces.
Hoped that he would be able to fix his mundane issue as quickly as possible…
And hoped that he wouldn’t find much traffic on his way back home.
But if there’s one thing he did not expect—nor thought it possible, not even in the most audacious realms of his imagination…
Was to see you again, here, today.
“Y/N?” He breathes. The sight of you might’ve been from a distant perspective, and not exactly from the best angle either, but even then, he was still able to recognize the figure of one of his closest friends during his time as a student.
And after a few more seconds of careful observation, he comes to the accurate conclusion that it was you, right there, before him—as if pulled right out of the confines of his thoughts!
Without time to waste, combined with his excitement of seeing you again after months of absence, Nanami swiftly rushes to your side, stopping just by the entrance of one of the many administrative offices, giving him the impression you were there for the same motive as him (perhaps the faculty was incompetent after all.) if not more.
Although with an additional companion, carefully strapped to your chest…
“Huh? Wha—Kento?!” You gasp, initially distraught by the noise of footsteps rapidly approaching your direction, only to relax when seeing it was your long-lost friend in the flesh! A sight that felt like a breath of fresh air against what was an uneventfully boring day up to that point. “Is that really you, Kento? I can’t—I can’t believe it!”
“I can say the same thing.” He responds, the corners of his lips slightly tugging upwards. “It’s nice to see you again, Y/N.”
“Oh, I missed you so much!” You bubbled, hurrying to hug him—until the reason of your prolonged absence, and now the happiness of your everyday life, stops you from it with a soft coo. As if suddenly remembering she was there, you mouth a small oh before giggling, excitedly looking up to him again. “Well, now you know what kept me so busy this past year!”
The reason why you hadn’t been able to contact him as frequently as you’ve done in the past presented itself as clear as day, dressed up in their cozy pink onesie and a knitted warm hat: a baby.
You and Naoya had become parents.
Consider him surprised.
But not because the two had a family—no, it was well-known that this is what you wanted—but rather… because it happened so soon after the wedding. It suddenly made sense why both were so eager to get married.
“I suppose introductions are overdue.” You say, a smile on your face as you look down to your baby, giving her a kiss on the top of her head before gesturing her to look over to Nanami—her golden eyes quickly following your lead. “Kento, this is my daughter, Naomi. Naomi, this is one of my best friends, Kento.”
He hesitates for a moment when it comes to responding, still taken aback by the presence of this small child… but after a few seconds of coming to terms with his thoughts, he takes a step closer to her, lowering to her level before giving her a soft smile.
“Nice to meet you, Naomi.” He greets, reaching for her small hand and greeting her. “I hope you’ve been good to your mom.”
The baby girl stares at him with such an intense curious look that makes Nanami wonder if perhaps he had something in his face, or if he should’ve been a bit tenderer in his approach… before his thoughts are abruptly interrupted by her suddenly turning her head back to you, resting against your chest and promptly hiding from him.
Almost as if she were… embarrassed.
«Cute» Nanami thinks, and you chuckle, finding her actions equally adorable—as you always did whenever she did as much as breathe— before leaning down to kiss her head once more and place your hand on her back, gently comforting her.
“I’m sorry about that, she’s quite shy with new people” you explain. “But once she’s used to you, she’s nothing but clingy.”
“That’s ok.” Nanami responds, currently far more amused with the fact that everything about her screamed she was Naoya’s daughter—from the small batch of dark hair seen underneath her warm hat, her golden big round eyes, to her name. And yet, even with all those things, he still capable of nothing that… “She has your nose.”
“I knew I she had something of me!” you gasp, ecstatic. “Everyone keeps telling me how she looks so much like Naoya, but she’s my daughter too, you know? I carried her for 9 months! She has to look like me somehow!! But still… I’m very happy she takes after my husband; I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
“How old is she?”
“Just a few weeks, 13 to be precise.”
“So around… 3 months.” Meaning Naomi was born around January.
“And I still can’t believe it.” You swoon.
To think that just a few weeks ago she was still in your belly, patiently waiting for the day she’d be able to be in your arms…  and now, she was there, with you, turning your reality into what you always dreamed of: a family conformed by those you loved the most.
You wished to say that overcoming this sentiment was only a matter of time, that it wouldn’t take much before you freed yourself of this nostalgia. But truth to be told, you knew that to be impossible—for as long as Naomi continues to grow, you’d feel as if time was nothing but fleeting.
But while you where basking in the blessings the presence of your daughter brought into your and Naoya’s life… Nanami was drowning in an overwhelming sense of regret for having missed what was an important milestone in your life.
More than would’ve—he should’ve been there with you, celebrating the birth of your daughter, as he suspected everyone important for you had done. How he knows you would’ve loved him to.
Just… what else did he miss?
“Congratulations.” He adds, offering a glimpse into his burdening feelings. “I wish I had told you before, but I didn’t know of your daughter until now.”
And then, the happiness radiating from your actions, if only briefly, disappears. Yet enough for him to notice.
“Oh, well… no one was supposed to.” You explain, he frowns.
“…Why?” Nanami naturally cautioned, for he couldn’t imagine a reason someone like you, whose dream was to start a family, indisputably happy that your wish was granted, would’ve kept this a secret.
You remain quiet, as if debating whether you should dive deeper into the matter or not… before accepting you at least owed Nanami an explanation to your absence.
Thus, you begin.
“There’s a reason why I essentially disappeared for a while. I wanted nothing more than to let you know of my pregnancy, but… let’s say that my role as Naoya’s wife came with some heavy… precautions.” You sigh. “I mean, I still do things as I always do, it’s not like I’m locked at the estate or anything, I just… have to be more careful about how I go on with my day—or who I talk to.
Because Naoya’s the heir of such prestigious family, he naturally becomes a target to anyone that might want to… get a benefit out of him. Obviously, that extends to me, and now…”
“Your daughter.”
You press your lips together, nodding.
“I really, really wanted to let you know, but after that day—I didn’t know if I should.”
“What do you mean?” Nanami frowns, concern in its highest. “Did… something happen?”
“No! I mean—they tried, but nothing came out of it., really. I’m fine now.”
“What do you mean they tried—Y/N, did someone hurt you? Or the baby?”
“No, I’m telling you—we’re fine! It was just a scare, nothing more.”
“That didn’t sound like a scare to me, Y/N. What happened? And more importantly, where was Naoya during all this?!”
“Nanami, it was just an accident— Naoya would’ve never allowed harm to befall me or Nao—”
And as if sensing your and Nanami’s growing distress, or perhaps remembering this experience throughout whatever little conscience she had at that moment, Naomi begins to wail, effectively snapping both out of trance.
“Oh, no, no, baby—did we scare you?” You coo, quick to rock her up and down while wrapping your arms around her, hoping that she’ll find comfort in the motion while you continue to reassure her. “It's ok, it was nothing but a disagreement, pumpkin. My friend is just worried for me—but Papa made sure that nothing ever happens to us again! So don’t worry your pretty little head about anything, ok?”
You lean your face gently against her head and then, start humming a lullaby.
The moment you spend comforting Naomi is brief, for it doesn’t take longer after that for her to begin to calm down, cries slowly quieting down as you continue to hum her what Nanami figured to be her favorite song— but as short as that instance was, it’s all that he needed to understand you genuinely enjoyed being a mother.
From the way you gently coo at her, give her little pats in the back, grow nothing but attentive to any need she may have… your joy was clear.
This is perhaps the happiest he has ever seen you in his whole life—probably even more than when you got married—and while his absence is something he’ll never be able to take back, he was ultimately glad that you were content.
And regretful that he had underestimated your safety, or Naoya’s efforts.
He just couldn’t help it—amongst those he called his friends, you were the only one left to protect. And such, he had to make sure you wouldn’t succumb to a horrible fate.
“Are you hungry, pumpkin? Oh, or maybe it’s time for you to take a nap?” you ask, looking at your bag.
“Is there something I can help you with?” he immediately asks upon seeing your brief struggle.
“Well, I could take you up on that lunch you told me about a while ago.” You tease, Nanami chuckles. “We have lots to catch up to do! Like telling me what you were doing here??”
“I was referring to Naomi, but sure, I’ll take you—if there isn’t any problem with her.”
“I think she’s just hungry and a bit sleepy—nothing a stroller can’t fix.” You say. “Everything’s on the car so I just need to make my way there.”
“Let me help you with the bag, then.” Nanami says, and without resistance, you let him take the bag from you as you sigh in relief.
“Ah, now that’s something I needed.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Nanami… it’s ok.” You add. “I get it—if anything your reaction was lighthearted to what my family did… but I swear, we’re fine now. As safe as ever.”
“That’s good to know.” He smiles, and the two begin to walk towards the parking lot. “Why were you here for anyways? I can’t imagine visiting a place like this could be thrilling, less with a baby—especially if you’ve come all the way from Kyoto.”
“Oh, I just came here to do some registrations for Naomi. You know, with her being part of the Zen’in clan and all that sorcerer stuff, it’s something I needed to do as soon as she was born—but I just kept procrastinating on it.”  You explain. “I could’ve done all that in Kyoto, but since I’m also staying with my dad a bit, I’ve decided to do it here. Ever since Naoya got promoted to grade 1, he’s been nothing but busy, and I didn’t want to be alone while Naomi is still this young…”
“I’ve heard, congratulate him for me.” Nanami says. “I’m glad your family is keeping you company.”
“Maybe you can visit sometime too! I’m sure my dad would love to see you again—or maybe we can even go out more often? I have to make the most out of the fact Naoya doesn’t have me surrounded by bodyguards essentially all the time, or my siblings for that matter…”
He laughs.
“Hey! It’s not funny—I mean, he’s attentive… but do you know how annoying it is to have to tell everyone your every move all the time?” you cry. “Seriously, I sometimes even feel like a celebrity.”
Even if it’s a bit exaggerated, Nanami is glad to confirm he truly never had anything to worry. For Naoya not only remained caring, but very protective of you, and now, your baby daughter.
He still can’t believe it.
You and Naoya became parents during this last year.
Parents.
A family, from a relationship he once thought wouldn’t last long thanks to the preconceived notions he had of Naoya.
But he’s changed—stepped up to the role of your partner, and now, father.
It almost felt surreal, like it had been a way for his mind to explain what happened during the time of his absence.
But it wasn’t his imagination, it was there, right before him, in the form of a small, chubby looking baby that was named and looked after her father, as well as your beaming smile.
“—And obviously I want you to carry her!” you said, what little he managed to recover from the ongoing conversation after stepping out of his dwelling thoughts.
“Carry her…? If it’s too much problem, I’d rather not.” Nanami says, remembering her initial disapproval, you shake your head.
“Don’t be silly—it’s no problem. Besides, it is mandatory for me to take a picture of you two to add to the collection!”
“Collection?”
“Yep! I made Naomi an Instagram account where I’ll be posting pictures of her! I want to document everything—from her cute outfits, spending time with her grandpa, to when she’s opening her papa’s gifts, you know? I will not allow my memory to erase these precious moments from my conscience!” you firmly say. “Just send me a request and I’ll add you.”
When you once thought your parent’s photo album to be embarrassing, you are now openly replicating their behavior—although in your own style, of course. But the bottom line remained the same: it really was a parenting thing. At that, Nanami can only chuckle.
“Fine, I’ll make an account.”
“You won’t regret it! Just be sure to block Satoru though—the moment he finds out you have an account he will not leave you alone.”
And you were right, for as soon as he registered, requested to follow Naomi’s pseudo-account and saw you’ve already posted the picture you’ve taken of him and your daughter, the comment section did not waste any time to reflect the opinions Naomi’s admirers had about him: from his sudden reappearance to his “questionable influence” …
It was a circus. All starting from Satoru’s delusions.
hinata_please_unblock_me: You need to get him away from Naomi-chan. He’s going to make her boring and scary like him!!
l/n_hinata: Ha! That’s some bs if I’ve ever read one! He’s a much better influence than you’ll ever be! Also, did you make another account?! What the hell Satoru?? And @zenin_y/n why did you add him again??
zenin_y/n: Language, Hinata… also, wasn’t that Shoko’s account??
zenin_naoya: Get off my daughter’s page before I block both of you.
hinata_please_unblock_me: you wouldn’t dare. And if you do, I’ll just make another account!
l/n_hinata: I’m this close to filing a restraining order if you don’t behave!
hinata_please_unblock_me: @nanami_kento @nanami_kento @nanami_kento look what you’ve done!! Take responsibility of your actions 😡😡
hinata_please_unblock_me: Hey, why isn’t he getting tagged?! I know he has an account!! Wait, did he block me already?!?!  😭😭😭
zenin_naoya: That’s it. You’re getting blocked.
l/n_hinata: NO! @zenin_y/n  please don’t let your husband do this to me!!!
naomis_granpda: What a lovely picture. Can’t wait to have Naomi over this weekend! 😊
Neither you nor Nanami could’ve foreseen his presence instigating such behavior from your friends and family, but as messy as it was, it was also heartwarming, realizing he missed a bit of the chaos from his life—maybe he’ll try to keep up with everyone a bit more.
Or at least with Naomi, who after warming up to his presence, was completely enthralled by him—specifically his blonde hair, which she tried to touch whenever possible, eyes widening when her small fingers finally graced his strands before giggling at its softness.
Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he intrigued one of the Zen’in with his hair. Now it’s just a matter of time to see if she’ll also follow in her father’s footsteps.
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the thing y/n was referring to is this other oneshot. because why not!! let's connect them.
The last part is referencing a hc I posted a while ago: the reason why Naoya dyed his hair is because he heard you complimenting Nanami's a while ago, and wanting to impress you, he did the same thing. Although it stuck with him because he ended up liking it. 🤭
Also, I love how Eiichi is completely oblivious to the argument happening thanks to Nanami's picture with Naomi lol. He would be the epitome of this thing happening in mexico where aunties love sending tweety pictures to whatsapp group chats lol (very niche, I know 😂 that man is getting old I'm telling ya)
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this small interaction :> Nanami is one of the characters I consider to be... quite awkward when it comes to meeting kids, and probably wouldn't be all too affective, but he'll try for yours 🥺 specially for cute Naomi. believe me, he opens up a bit more, but he's overall happy for you 😭❤️
Thank you so much for sending in this ask!! it was a treat to write :3 ❤️
Take care, and hope to see you soon!
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misc-obeyme · 1 month
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I'm a newish follower and definitely new to obey me and I've got a lot of questions about Barbatos's tail
I've seen some art and fics depicting his tail as slimy and it seems weird for a really clean guy to have a tail that could potentially make the things around him dirty. Like wouldn't he be so embarrassed if his tail accidentally stained someone's dress when they walked by him or leaving a streak on the floor? just in shame
additionally what about it being like a lizards tail imagine how mortified he would be to get it lightly trapped in a door for it to pop off suddenly and start wiggling there on the floor
or is it like a snail tail and when you touch it, it retracts back up underneath his jacket
if it's hard and spiny like some kind of spike, could he kill with it?
i have a lot of questions about his tail and would like to know what you think
Welcome to the blog, anon! And welcome to the fandom!
We all have a lot of questions about Barbatos's tail. I like to think I'm a Barb expert, though half of that is headcanon at this point. Anyway, I will endeavor to answer the questions to the best of my ability!
Now it's funny you should bring up the slimy tail situation because this was a discussion we were having here on the blog not that long ago!
It took me a second to find it, but there's a daily chat where Satan says, "it's said to have a wonderful, glistening sheen."
There's also this issue of the RAD newspaper where it's described as "wet and glistening, but not slimy."
I suspect a lot of fics that make his tail slimy have more to do with him using his tail for nsfw lubrication purposes. But honestly I had mostly forgotten about this detail entirely. So in a lot of my Barb fics, where he's in demon form, he will wrap his tail around MC a lot. Because I was always thinking about it being dry. But then I did remember that it was supposed to be "slimy" though I misremembered and it is only "wet" (though what is the difference when it comes to a tail like his?) and then I adopted the headcanon that he can control how wet it is. That way my fics still make sense to me lol.
That also allowed me to consider that he wouldn't have the problem of leaving behind any kind of mess from it because he can control how messy it is. Though now this is officially my favorite idea for how he manages the tail wetness.
But yes, I suspect that he would not like having an appendage that has the potential to make things dirty when he himself is so clean. I highly doubt he would have spent the many years of his life with it without devising some way of preventing that from happening.
I tend to think of it as more of a salamander tail. A long time ago, an anon suggested this and so far it's the one that seems to fit his tail best in my mind. Anyway, I think salamander tails can pop off like some lizard tails do and grow back, so either way he's still gotta deal with that. I like the idea of it retracting, though, that sounds cute.
Though we are talking about a demon tail so maybe it has some different properties. I kind of think that a demon's tail, whether based on a real life animal or not, is going to be rather sturdy and maybe even powerful. Barb's tail is much larger than a standard lizard, I think, so I expect it's just stronger in general.
So while I don't think it's hard and spiny, I do think he could kill with it. Tails generally have bones and muscles in them (I think), so I just imagine Barbatos's tail being super strong. Like he could probably use it as a spike if he wanted to. But I also think it'd probably be easier to just wrap it around someone's throat, you know? I also think he could potentially use it more like a club and bash someone's head with it.
But this is all just conjecture on my part. I don't think he's ever used it like that in the game lol. I do believe it's canon that he doesn't like when people touch it, though. That being said in the daily chat following that one from Satan, if MC asks if they can touch it, he says he'll make an exception for them.
In the end, since we have very little canon information about his tail, you are free to imagine it however you like! I've obviously thought about it... probably too much. But there are also OC related reasons for why I have spent a lot of time thinking about demon tails in general lol.
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omgcatboi · 2 months
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Are you a “eat until death” type of person? I know you want to get fatter, but 800 pounds is a lot…
Answer below the cut (:
I'm not sure how to read the intentions behind this anon, rather they be good or bad. But I'm going to answer anyways because I do get asked this from time to time.
( disclaimer because I can already hear people trying to argue with me, but my aunt who was 700 pounds lived until her 60's and she was fat her entire life, so no, she didn't die immediately from gaining weight. Nor will I. )
Am I an ' eat until death ' type of person;
I absolutely am, but I limit my ' death feedism ' posting here ( as well as tag it ) and am thinking of making another side blog to remove that posting from here entirely for the comfort of my followers. I'm not eating with intention to end myself, I just feel like life is what you make of it and anything can happen at any point to cut us a short deal. Also, my cultural beliefs are that the entire purpose of life is to experience it. So that's what I want to do. Death isn't the end goal, and I do eat many healthy foods ( and encourage it often on my blog so that other feedees can gain weight more healthily. ) I just know I wanna get as big as possible, and that may bring along a good handful of complications that can result in death.
TW ; talk of fascism and American imperialism as well as transphobia / legislation enforcing bigotry.
Also, not to get all doom and gloom but look at the state of this world. Look at the dying planet we have limited time on. Each day a new fascist bill gets passed here in America alone. If death takes me out this hellscape then it's doing me a hell of a favor, because there IS no other way out. Not without a ton of money for a passport and applying for citizenship overseas as well as paying American taxes AFTER moving out. And even then, America IS the empire of our age. It influences the rest of the world. And it has already been invading other countries and enforcing fascist dictatorships either directly or indirectly for MANY years now. So even if I COULD hypothetically move out, I'd still be at risk of being under Americas extreme rule anyway. Or worse, I'd end up in a situation like P/lestinian just like Vi/tnam was.
I know what I'm saying is dark and depressing, as well as anxiety inducing, but I'm showing that I've put plenty of thought behind this decision. Just like I did before starting HRT even tho I ALWAYS knew I am trans. And I don't need anyone trying to talk me out of the lifestyle I am living. Besides, with my genetics, I'm going to keep gaining regardless. It happened to my aunt who was roughly 700 pounds, and even then, she was near her 60's when she passed. I'm only gaining faster, not less. ( And she wasn't gaining intentionally, she just didn't care about fitting into other people's idea of what she should be and what she should do. )
In her 60's
60'S
I don't want to be old and wrinkly ( no hate tho those who are ) I don't want to live that damn long ( like 70's and older ) just. Nah. I'm good.
I'm just enjoying my time while I have it.
( this next part is not about people with triggers who are triggered by death feedism or very fat bodies. So if that is you, stop exposing yourself to this bc I tagged it and talked about it plenty before getting to this point of the post. )
And as a footnote to anyone who may be reading this, if you have an issue with people getting ' too big ' 1) you need to check that way of thinking because you ARE in the feedism / fat kink community. And that INCLUDES people who are, gasp, suprise, FAT. And 2) you should spend some time reflecting on what lead you to harboring that way of thinking.
Not saying this anon holds these views at all, I'm just mentioning it because it is my blog and we are on the topic. ( Plus I'm Knipping everything in the bud now as far as the group of people who will try and spew any level of fatphobia at me for this. In which case I'm not even going to read what y'all say, I'm just going to block you lol. )
One love and allat 😌
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amoristt · 9 months
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PART 2 BAYBEEE this has completely revamped my love for marble hornets . anon i literally love u SOOO bad for reminding me of this time to binge the entirety of mh for the 10th time
-as always comments/reblogs are appreciated! - wanna tip me? heres my kofi!
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Escape Fate | Tim (Masky) x Reader Pt. 2
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"For fuck's sake!"
The engine of your car cries out as you jam the gas down to the floor. Rock spit out from your tires, fishtailing out as you struggled to juggle the steering wheel and hanging up the cell phone in your hand. Every couple of seconds your eyes would flick to the rear view just in case that... person was chasing you.
Tim was never known for his ability to answer on the first call. Sometimes the man wouldn't answer at all- you knew this. It was never an issue until now, your mind scrambling to focus on the road. You'd narrowly escaped with your life and it was all thanks to some masked stranger.
With an angry huff, you toss your phone onto the passenger seat and white knuckle the steering wheel, eyes fixated on the road. Flashes of your meeting with death play on rewind in the back of your mind like a projector. The deranged look on Alex's face down to the moment you'd locked eyes with your savior.
Your mind spins on where your destination lies, but it chooses your home. You drive in total silence, listening to nothing but the sound of your car and the wind howling through your cracked window. It's almost like being on autopilot, your eyes distant and far away as you pulled into the driveway. Somewhere deep in your brain, you knew that you should have gone to the police station, but yet you still pull yourself from your car and numbly unlock your front door before slipping inside without a word.
It only takes a few moments before you let yourself fall into your couch cushions. You'd been so close to death you swore you felt its breath down your neck. The warbled memories you have of the masked man force their way to the forefront of your mind. You had so many questions- who was he? Why had he given a shit to save you?
Why did he follow you out to the street?
The thought of him possibly not saving you, just choosing Alex first strikes you, and it draws a cold sweat from your skin. Perhaps you hadn't been saved at all.
Worry spreads like wildfire through you, and in seconds you're up and locking every single window in the house, double-checking any doorways. You want to put on the deadbolt for the front door, but then Tim couldn't get in. You settle back on the couch, glad that other than the coffee table and recliner chair, you had a perfect view of the front door in case anyone tried to break in. The only window was along the far wall with its blinds drawn. Still, sunlight filtered in through the cracks.
A clatter on the floor beside causes every fiber in your being to jump, but when you glance over the edge, you realize it's just your phone falling from your pocket onto the hardwood floor. The screen lights up.
Low battery.
You pick it up and send Tim an urgent message, demanding he come over as soon as possible. And if he sees Alex, run.
Exhaustion riddles you. It doesn't feel real anymore, the memories flashing through your mind. They seem like the frames of a movie now, warped and far away and quite frankly insane. It felt like a nightmare that you'd woken up from, not reality.
After a good sleep to collect yourself, you would go to the police and tell them everything that had happened. And when you woke up, maybe Tim would be there smiling at you from the chair and asking if you were alright. He would touch your face and kiss your forehead, climb onto the couch beside you, and pull you against him. He would make you feel safe.
The idea comforts you enough to lull you to sleep.
--
You don't dream of anything. In fact, if the sun hadn't sunk down beneath the horizon and cast the world in night, you wouldn't even have known you slept at all.
Groggy-eyed and tired, you crack your eyes open. The first thing you notice is how unbelievably dark it is. From your position on your back, looking straight up, you can't even make out where the ceiling begins. Your eyes struggle to adjust, finding the only light in the room to be the streetlights cascading in through the window. With the blinds open on the far right, the light pours in just enough to fill the room midway in orange.
The second thing you notice makes your blood run cold underneath your skin.
You'd had your blinds completely shut when you fell asleep.
You were sure of it. But now they're open on one side. Your mouth runs dry.
Slowly, as if afraid to alert something, or someone, you roll onto your side and tap at the floor in search of your phone. When you're finally able to find it, you tap the power button. Then, when nothing happens, you feel your stomach churn.
It was fucking dead. You'd forgotten to plug it in before your slumber.
And to make matters worse, a third thing gathers all of your attention at once: movement.
Right across from you, perched up on the reclining chair, you make out a pair of jeans and heavy, dark boots. Fear strikes you like a lance. Your breath completely stops in your throat. In the dead silence, you're horrified to realize you can hear breathing that wasn't your own. Slow, long drawn breaths, like the figure was simply observing you.
Maybe it was Tim. You had messaged him hours ago, maybe he'd come in while you were sleeping and didn't want to disturb you.
"Tim?" Your voice cracks as you whisper, fear gripping you by the neck. Doubled when he doesn't answer. Tripled when those legs shift just barely. The energy seeping from the figure is downright evil.
Dread engulfs you as you realize your fate. It was Alex. It had to be. He'd broken in and waited for you to wake up like it was some sick fucking game to him, and trapped you within the confines of your very own home.
All alone, with your phone dead on the floor.
You hope you're just dreaming still. But then his breathing picks up and you're plummeted back into the awful reality that was your inevitable death. And instead of running, fighting, struggling for your life and doing something to get away, you just sit there. You remain still as a statue- like somehow he hadn't seen you. Like if you just don't move, neither will he. The moment is long and agonizingly silent, the air thick with tension, your lungs unable to bring in oxygen.
Time passes in slow motion and your eyes struggle to adjust to the everlong darkness. If you weren't abhorrently frozen with fear, you'd probably just burst out crying right there, pathetically begging for your life. You didn't want to die- not fucking now, when you knew the one finding your body would end up being Tim. Not by Alex, someone you considered your friend.
You always knew he'd been losing a few screws but for fucks sake this was murder.
"Please," You start, voice barely even above a dying whisper. "Don't hurt me."
That same feeling of death's breath on the nape of your neck returns to you. Goosebumps riddle your skin. The air so palpable you could reach out and grab it in the anticipation of his response.
The chair creaks. You almost gag on your tongue. The figure leans forward and rests his gloved hands on his knees. Light finally catches his features and you make out a white mask, with dark eyes and painted lips. That same mask that was running laps in your mind since you'd seen it.
Fear saps up and down your spine like electricity. The man had followed you home.
You hate that you stay stuck in place as he get's up from his crouched position and slowly saunters towards you. Like an animal, he climbs onto the coffee table and towers over you with shadowed eyes. Frantically, you search for something, anything human in those dark eyes. You find nothing but shadows. The man feels almost feral, tilting his head side to side as he drew closer to you. His gloved hand reaches out, and traces a line down your jaw, just barely touching over your skin.
Something in the way he touches you finally causes you to react. It makes the moment real, you could feel him touching you. You heave yourself up and try to scrabble off the couch, kicking your legs out. But he's faster. He's stronger- and in the blink of an eye, he grabs your shoulders and hauls you onto your back once more, forced to watch up at him with helpless eyes. When you try to shove him away, he catches your hands and pins them beside your head at the wrists. How simple it is for him to restrain you is terrifying. He wasn't even trying and he still managed to trap you in a second's notice.
"Don't hurt me, don't hurt me!" You babble, eyes squeezed shut and your legs uselessly kicking out. He straddles you and you sob in vain. "Please, my boyfriend will be here any moment just- just leave! I won't tell!"
But the man just tilts his head again. Does it like he doesn't understand.
You're already in tears when he barely loosens his grip on your wrists. Dreadful reality dawns upon you, and you realize you had been right after all. He hadn't saved you. You escaped him just as much as you'd escaped Alex.
Tears slip down your cheeks. He just inches closer until you can hear the sound of his soft breaths from behind his mask. If God was around, he'd hear your endless prayers begging for the strength to get away or for someone to help you.
But clearly, he isn't, because the man lets your wrists go just long enough to touch the sides of your face. Slowly, carefully, they pet down your skin and wipe away those tears freely falling from your wide eyes. And Christ, you let him. You could be fighting back, snarling and clawing. Instead, you're barely breathing, frozen and feeling your life tick away by the second.
He dips his head into the crook of your neck. Your fingers ball into fists beside your head, and you feel him breathing you in.
"What the fuck." You whimper, shaking like a leaf underneath his form. The seconds pass like hours.
After a tense pause, the only audible sound being your combined heavy breaths, he pulls his head away a few inches to look into your eyes. Though you struggle to see his, you can feel them on you like fire. Like those eyes are wrapping around your neck, choking your breath away.
And then you really do think your breath is stolen from you- gone when you feel the unmistakable texture of his gloves move once more. He runs his fingers down your bare neck, to your shoulder. Feather light touches over your collarbones that make you squirm underneath him. Those fingers linger over the line of your cleavage and your stomach flips.
They only stay for a few seconds. Then they're southbound which causes an even heavier pit of dread to settle in your stomach. His head tilts while he explores your clothed body, the fabric of your tank top bunching up around his fingertips. He moves them slowly, languidly, like he's exploring you. Trying to memorize the point where your waist meets your hips.
In the worst way imaginable, it feels... Familiar. You can't put your finger on it but you've been touched like this before, had the curves of your soft skin mapped out by wandering large hands. The same path, the same lingering pauses... The low sounds of his soft breaths reach your ears, and you recognize them.
Your chest heaves, your skin warm.
Only further blossoming in heat when the man leans back and you feel the weight of him rest on your hips. His hands settle on your waist, his burning gaze lingers over your form. The streetlight filtering in paints the outline of him. Glows in the loose strands of brown, messy hair.
Reveals his brown cargo jacket and the broad build of his shoulders. Your lips part in a gasp. His head lowers and you catch a glimpse of that unmistakable facial hair just as his fingers dip underneath the thin fabric of your tank top.
Your skin vibrates under his touch. You can't take it anymore.
"Tim...?"
You'd said it so quietly that you almost wonder if he'd heard it at all.
But he did. He freezes and snaps his gaze straight to you. The first real reaction you'd gotten out of him so far- and it only further confirms your question.
Your mind reels, thoughts spinning out of control. It feels like you're dreaming all over again.
The man- Tim, straightens his back as he stares down at you, his gaze heavy and undeniable. Even fully clothed underneath him, you feel naked. So exposed. His hands retract from under your shirt and rest at his sides loosely.
You'd always known Tim struggled with mental illness. Even early on in the relationship, it was a known fact after you'd found his medication. He always refused to elaborate beyond just telling you he was 'managing' it- and though you of course always felt a sense of curiosity to know more, you didn't want to pry. Plus, it was true. He was managing it. You'd never seen a single outburst, episode, or really... Anything other than some paranoia. And even that never got the best of him.
Just as you were his, he was your comfort, your peace.
But this was something else entirely. This wasn't even him anymore- it couldn't be. This man was too animalistic, moved too feral for it to be true.
Yet this appearance rang true.
His thick brown hair, and squared shoulders. His usual attire and those sideburns that only he could pull off.
But you had to be sure.
You had to be sure that they shared the same face. The same soulful, tired eyes.
To your shock, Tim doesn't react when you prop yourself up to your elbows. Nor does he react when you slowly reach up with a tentative hand and graze your fingers along the hard edge of his mask. You touch at the side of his face- the only visible skin. He sighs when you make contact, long and drawn, almost as if he enjoys the feeling. Just barely, he leans into the touch.
Your heart stutters in your chest.
Drops when you tug at the elastic band holding the mask to his head, and he finally reacts.
Violently.
Tim rips away from you like you'd burned him and stumbles backward, failing to climb off you properly and instead flipping over the armrest at your feet. You hear his back smack the hard ground with a thud and then absolute silence.
The silence only lasts so long. Because suddenly there's clamoring, his feet kicking out, and by the time you're up and peering over the edge of the armrest he seems to be full-blown seizing there on the floor.
Now this you had seen before.
Like every other time, you rush to his side, mind completely forgetting the entire scenario that'd happened moments ago. As much as you want to grab him, hold him close until it's passed, you know you can't. Instead, you kneel beside him, covering your mouth, silently begging for it to be over with, counting the time in 30 second intervals.
The light outside finally shines over his mask. You see his eyes through the gaps.
Thirty seconds.
His body tense, finger's balling into fists. You feel tears prick the corners of your eyes.
One minute.
You swallow down the lump in your throat.
Minute, thirty seconds.
"Tim!"
Finally, like he hears you, he stills. Your heart thrashes in your chest.
In the blink of an eye, you're pulling at the bands of his mask. It peels away with little restrain, and there he is.
Tim. Your Tim. His eyelashes resting heavy over his cheekbones- like he'd simply fallen asleep. Like he'd been here the whole time completely unbothered. His lips are barely parted enough for his soft breaths to creep through. You aren't sure if you should feel relief or fear. All you feel is raw confusion and anxiety eating you alive.
First Alex, now this? What the hell was going on?
Tim makes a soft sound and you look at him with wide eyes, cautious in the waking presence of the man you'd once felt to be your protector. What would you do if he remained the same as before? If when he opened his eyes, you were assaulted all over again?
Another quiet chirp escapes him, and you reach out to gently hold his face. When his eyes finally open, you're the first thing they see. A part of you tells yourself to back away just in case. The rest of you demands you stay planted beside him no matter what.
You listen to the ladder.
His gloved hands come up to paw at your wrists and for a moment, you're afraid your worries proved true. But then, in his low voice, he speaks. And you nearly collapse onto him, a puddle of solace.
"Baby...?"
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septembersghost · 5 months
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my queue was supposed to run out tonight (11/19) - i'm nothing if not someone who clings to dates and anniversaries, and exactly a month ago, i realized i had enough posts stowed in it to last until today. of all the days. kismet. you know when it's time to go. but i ended up adding some posts from my (still copious) drafts, and no matter how i finagled it, it was impossible to make them all fit by the time today ended. so it gets a little bit of extra time. maybe, in honor of this blog's existence, that's fitting.
you all know this, i've said it, typically in gratitude, many times already. this blog was never meant to last. i came back in november 2020 expecting a couple of months, maybe to be here until the new year. i told very few people, anticipating the goodbye, not wanting to cause anyone undue anguish when i had to vanish again. something i didn't expect was the sheer (admittedly devasting) emotion that would tie itself to those two weeks when i started interacting again, nor that it would have any outreach or impact, but somehow it did. then time kept spinning on, extending itself, gossamer threads unfurling each day. my following kept growing, far beyond what i could have anticipated, greater than i'd ever established on any of my previous blogs. moving around is unfortunately a pattern at this point, every time for reasons that felt quietly catastrophic. not being able to pay bills for a while. angel's death and the ensuing difficult circumstances. so here, i kept anxiously imagining why i'd eventually have to leave, how to plan for it. poverty issues. the homelessness we were facing through the entirety of a couple of years until last august (and my dad having to be the saving grace). worsening health issues. i never knew, i couldn't predict it, i just worried about it. often tried to brace for it. maybe i got too comfortable this year, because this was when i started to think it wouldn't happen, that i really could stay. little did i know. and the reasons...are not reasons i ever fathomed, why would i have? how could i have? i wish it weren't so. (i wish a lot of things.)
i thought sometimes about the words i would leave you with, none of which are suitable now. i almost wrote nothing, yet found that feeling wrong, couldn't leave without something about parting.
thus it turns out i'm leaving before it's strictly necessary, before it's the fear of personal catastrophe coming to fruition, not knowing what i'll do or where i'll metaphorically go, as that is the downside of chronic illness and isolation narrowing this to my sole outlet. (lyrics keep running through my mind, there are always lyrics stuck in my head. no matter where i go, there'll be memories that tug at my sleeve, but there will also be more to question, yet more to believe...teach me to be more adaptive...help me say goodbye). my body is in such a fragile state right now (my mind not far behind) that maybe what i need to do is rest. just rest for a while.
this blog was never meant to grow the way it did, to take asks and have conversations like i did, that was a somewhat new (sometimes scary! often fun) experience for me. it's one that will never be replicated. to my loyal and lovely anons, i'm so sorry that i had to cut you off unexpectedly and couldn't reinstate communication - i know that you weren't able to reach out to me as soon as i did that, and that certainly wasn't your fault, it was a response to the tenor of this website. i apologize for the hundreds of messages i never had the chance to answer. i'm appreciative of the things you shared with me and all the times we got to talk.
i sincerely hope some of you learn to be kinder and wiser and less reactionary and more willing to learn and to listen rather than to attack those who have never wronged you and who do not deserve that. i'm being too nice, but i hope you learn that misusing your supposed social justice to do harm and foment hatred and stew in ignorant cruelty makes any principles you purport to have utterly void. my hope for that is low at the moment, but it's still got to be there. waiting to be found.
to those of you who have never been anything but kind, you are true treasures, the lights in the darkness, the loving and compassionate embodiment of human spirit. some of you have (quite literally) helped keep my mom and me alive, and i can never repay that or do enough in this life to quantify it. some of you have been here for me every single day, to listen and laugh and cry and understand. i don't think i would've bothered to fight through these past three years had i not had your presences in my life. i wouldn't have had as much of a reason. there are times when i still haven't felt like i had a reason, i struggle through so many varied griefs, but then i continued to wake up, and would come on here and find something joyful or beautiful or affirming that someone had sent or posted, and it gave me an anchor. there are passions and interests i shared or discovered here that were so uplifting and enlightening, and i will carry them in my heart always. being here to find those was such a blessing. being here with you to indulge in them was such a blessing. thank you. i pray your continued paths have more of that ahead. look at all the things you've done for me. there are certain things that once you have no time can wear away.
you know that line from the wizard of oz?: hearts will never be practical until they are made unbreakable. maybe that isn't true, maybe our hearts being broken is proof of something. there are people who hurt me on such a profound level who i know weren't affected by it at all, but i refuse to define my sensitivity as a negative. my softness (too soft for all of it, indeed) does not quite provide me with a weapon, but it doesn't crumple. hearts can be broken repeatedly and still beat, which i've thought about a lot lately. shattered souls just make a new mosaic. it's a different picture than it was before, but the color and light persists. and in the remains of that, a handful of people have shown me depths of caring and resilience that i wouldn't have gotten to hold onto otherwise, which is an extraordinary thing. the precious rarities have to mean something more, don't they? i would think so. i believe it. or i'm trying. i keep trying with all my might.
maybe i stayed too long at the fair. maybe this is a consequence of overplaying my hand, gambling a little too much with time to where it had to teach me something. maybe i needed the reminder that sometimes we have to fight to retain our spirits, and other times we have to retreat. maybe i needed a reminder that all that extra time was a miracle. i don't take it for granted.
whether we've spoken directly, be that consistently or in scattered flurries, whether we've interacted in very personal ways or simply in liked hearts on the dash, i hope there was goodness and light in it. i hope there's a memory i leave here that's sweet. (as long as i'm borrowing phrases, i hope you'll think of me fondly sometimes.) i hope there was something warm and enriching here. i hope you know what you've been and meant to me. i said so many times that this blog was my cozy haunted house - the ghosts will linger here forever, and i know they'll never mind if you want to step in and visit.
with all my heart, i love so many of you so dearly. i am so lucky to have your friendships. please move gently through life. please hold onto the things that illuminate it for you, and provide that where you can. please do your best to repair even the smallest of tears in the world. you are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.
there must be lights burning brighter somewhere.
something yet remains. i remain. and i do my best to be brave.
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muzzleroars · 10 months
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What if the Ferryman warms up to V1 quicker than they forgive Gabe so when the two have to fight something/someone the Ferryman's idols priortitise V1 for the blessing instead of Gabe. He would be so upset! Maybe they try to teach V1 to carve it's own idols (out of wood, they don't trust it with the real stuff)
How would the Ferryman warm up to V1 in the first place? Did they just want to figure out why Gabe fell for it in both senses of the word?
(reference to this!)
ANON YOUR MIND....i can absolutely see this being the case because the ferryman is in a very difficult and unique position with regards to these two. i went into detail in that previous ask on their issues with gabriel after his fall, but with v1, initially all they see is the machine that corrupted him. in some ways, they want to shift the blame entirely so they can preserve something of gabriel's image in their mind, but they come to know v1 for the exact reasons you say - they want to understand what happened. gabriel was a paragon, a luminous angel fully dedicated to god. how did v1, in a matter of hours, change his entire perspective, how did it not only turn him blasphemous but capture his love and affection as well? the ferryman by turns is insulted, angry, jealous, and the only way they can deal with that is to get to know and possibly understand v1 even if all they can feel for it at first is disgust.
the ferryman is guarded in approaching v1, a bit concerned for their own faith if it was able to so thoroughly shake gabriel's, but v1 is difficult to engage initially. it shows a mild curiosity before ignoring all of the ferryman's attempts at conversation, stark expression giving nothing away before it leaves to find better stimulation. of course. it's not made to be social, it doesn't seek out companionship nor prioritizes it in any fashion as a war machine. and while the ferryman can observe it, can begin to see behaviors they never expected to find in its curiosity and playfulness, it does nothing to answer their questions nor lessen their frustration with it. they have to engage with it on its terms, how gabriel must have when they met and when it changed him...and honestly the ferryman's anger has mounted long enough despite their uncanny ability to bottle their emotions. their challenge to v1 is the first time they see it respond fully to them, instantly drawing its weapons without moving to a more proper setting or even waiting for the word "go". it's not a complete surprise though, and the ferryman braces against it as they know implicitly that this machine must have defeated gabriel since that's the only way it would be standing now.
and as this is v1's true language, the ferryman finds themselves astounded by what it says: there is true art in its movements, boundless creativity guiding its whole body, a fervor that before they could only understand as religious but now put into battle. this is what gabriel saw, what he felt. so small but lightning fast, learning every second of the battle and adjusting, adjusting, tailoring all its movements, weapon choices, strategies to its opponent and its opponent alone. special-made, a battle just for two. how odd, feeling like you're the only one in the world when it locks onto you. and for v1, its interest in the ferryman takes hold when it sees how they fight, the strength and precision they manage despite appearing so frail and retiring. why didn't they show it this first? why waste time trying to talk? they can spark its need for physicality, a partner in battle that can hold its attention and make it work for its victory. v1 does end up battering the ferryman perhaps too much, but it stops when they fully yield and thank it for showing them just what they needed to see. they take the time to patch themselves up and think on what it showed them, wondering if that was enough to steal gabriel from heaven.
however...now they've attracted its attention lol v1 begins to investigate the ferryman, reversing their previous roles - they keep catching it out of the corner of their eye, scuttling around behind them, watching them with its brightly glowing optic that somehow looks much more inquisitive now. they start talking to it again to bring it closer, explaining the maintenance of their ship or singing low songs to it which it sometimes gives responses to with little electronic chirps. and despite knowing what it did to humanity, to hell, to gabriel, the ferryman was human once and well...there's an undeniable, deeply human pull toward a curious little robot. they begin to show it their artwork, how they paint and sculpt, absolutely handing over the tools to v1 at some point to watch it roughly carve the most rudimentary little figures of things its seen, people it knows. slowly it grows on the ferryman, watching the passion it approaches everything with, how it's impatient but how it delights in novel experiences, how brightly intelligent it is, far beyond the ferryman's capabilities in many things...despite everything about it that should be to the contrary, it's charming in its own ways. made by humanity, but not human, not fair to condemn by the same measures. the ferryman, religious as they are, does not believe that it can necessarily be held accountable with how it is removed from god - sinful men made this, and it had no say in its purpose.
this moral reasoning is what breaks down the barrier between them and ultimately leads to the idol problem. while gabriel knows by then that v1 has taken an interest in the ferryman, he doesn't understand how it's reciprocated until v1 is blessed by an idol to both of their shock. v1 adjusts quickly to it - invincible, unstoppable!!!! it can perform all the most ridiculous tricks, the ones it's only simulated (to poor results) because nothing can touch it!!! it cleans up the rest of the battle single-handedly as gabriel stays rooted to the spot, only moved when he's rudely checked by an enemy as if only to remind him he doesn't have the privileges v1 currently does. and i think this is point at which gabriel comes to really understand how hurt he is by the ferryman's rejection, how he felt so secured and entitled to their devotion that he believed the ferryman would totally forgive him if given enough time...but this shows how badly wounded their relationship is, how terribly hurt the ferryman has been in a way gabriel should have known. his natural emotionality wants to lash out but he knows he must control it, the feeling selfish and unfair to the ferryman or to v1 - instead he needs some time to self-reflect, to deconstruct even more of that angelic self-righteousness he still carries, and find it in him to truly be humble if he wants to mend this rift (which he has time for, as v1 is arguing with the terminal that THOSE POINTS COUNT. GIVE ME MY POINTS!!!!! and the terminal REFUSES to cash out bc v1 essentially used cheat codes)
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