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#because if I’m acting like this I surely can’t do the things I want to do
eddiesxangel · 2 days
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So High School | E.M x Reader
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TJ's 2K Request Celebration
@ilovewomen0099 Request: So High School - Taylor Swift. I hope it’s what you wanted 🩷
Cw: tooth rotting FLUFF, making out, date night, allusions to smut.
wc: 1.2k
And in a blink of a crinkling eye
I'm sinking, our fingers entwined
Cheeks pink in the twinkling lights
“Babe, look!” Eddie points to the rickety wooden Ferris Wheel that didn’t look all that trustworthy.
“I don’t know about that one?” You hold back.
“Why? Are you scared? He taunts you as he pulls you in closer.
You’re in the middle of the fairgrounds, but you don’t care; the other people can walk around you.
“No.” You counter back, but it’s not very convincing.
“Don’t worry I’ll protect you.” He catches you off guard by peppering your face with so many kisses you’ve lost count.
Nothing made you feel as light and airy as Eddie had. Nobody could ever compare. You know he is in it for you, even if you’ve just started dating, you can feel it; he’s the one.
“Come in, scaredy cat,” he grins before pulling you to the line.
Eddie admired the twinkling lights that reflected off your skin as you gripped onto him for dear life. Somehow, he convinced you to come up with him.
“I might loose circulation in this arm but it was worth it.”
You snort in response at his lame joke. “Tell me how this is worth it.”
“Because you look so beautiful.” He tucks a piece of hair caught in the wind behind your ear, and you swear your heart skips a beat. Suddenly, you feel like you're sixteen and back in high school. Any time Eddie looks at you, you act like a schoolgirl all over again.
Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me
Walking together, fingers not daring to let go of one another’s, even if Eddie’s chunky rings were digging into your skin.
“You know the first time I saw you I ran and hid.” Eddie admits sheepishly.
“What?” you giggle, confused by the admission.
“God, I don’t know why I’m telling you this; you just bring it out in me, baby.”
“Please tell me” you give him the good old puppy eye look that you’ve figured out that he can’t resist.
“Ok, um-well, Dustin and I were getting coffee before Hellfire because, you know, we need our energy, and you were in line ahead of us. I didn't see you at first, but when you turned to your friend- I think you were with Tara? I'm not sure I wasn't really focused on her because when I saw you...you made my heart skip a beat, I swear. I didn't know how to approach you, so I told Dustin to order my coffee and hid in the bathroom." He rambled.
"Eddie-"
"Dustin busted my balls the whole night about it, too."
"So you saw me before?"
"Yes, and I let you slip away so you could imagine how grateful I was when I saw you again that night we met." Eddie wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer, never wanting to let you go. He couldn't believe what his life would have been like if he had lost you in the crowd at Steve's party that night.
You felt an infectious sense of giddiness, reminiscent of a schoolgirl, every time you were with Eddie. Even though you knew it was the honeymoon phase, you cherished every single moment spent with him.
"Well, I first saw you at Steve's part and knew I had to have you. Your bad boy metal thing really got me going," you giggle.
"All a part of the brand, baby"
Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?
It's just a game, but really
I'm bettin' on all three for us two
As you were walking to the fairgrounds, you stumbled upon the Fortune teller's tent. Eddie gives you a knowing look, but you pull him along anyway.
"If you made me get on that Ferris Wheel, we are so doing this."
Before Eddie could argue how much of a scam this would be, you tugged his jacket sleeve and pulled him into the red and white striped tent.
The inside of the tent was a mesmerizing sight. Colourful fabrics and intricately designed rugs adorned the space, creating a warm and mystical atmosphere. Glittering crystals hung from the ceiling, catching the light and casting prismatic reflections across the interior. In the center of the tent, a small circular table stood, its surface adorned with intricate carvings and holding a clear crystal ball that seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly glow. Seated at the table was an elderly woman with long, faded red hair that cascaded down her back. She was dressed in a dark green robe that seemed to blend with the surroundings, and her nails were painted black and extended six inches, adding an air of all-knowing.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" she sheepishly grinned.
"Hello, this is my boyfriend, Eddie, and I'm Y/N."
"Shouldn't she know that?" Eddie scoffed under his breath.
"Welcome, non-believer and his lovely girlfrined."
"See, she knows!" You nudge his side with your elbow.
"Babe, are you kidding me?"
You ignore him, plop him down, and sit in his lap, seeing only one chair.
"What is it you seek?" She quirks a brow.
"Nothing specific; tell us what you see for us.
"Baby, I don't think that's a good idea?"
"Hush." You shush him, and Eddie holds his tongue. He loved when you took charge, but this was a bit much even for Eddie.
You turn to the wise-looking woman across from you and watch as she examines you before taking out the tarot cards. She shuffled messily and flipped over three onto the table. You looked intently as you saw the lover's car, the three cups and the empress.
"What's the verdict? She going to marry, kiss or kill me?" Eddie jokes, and you playfully smack his chest.
"I see all good things here; you have a strong relationship with a potent feminine energy. Your friends support this union as do your family."
"Does that say lovers? Am I getting banged tonight?" Eddie whispers in your ear.
"Not if you keep it up." ou wiggle your ass into his crotch only to tease him more.y
"I feel confident in this power dynamic; you can keep him in his place while submitting when needed."
"She submits alright." Eddie snorts, and your eyes go wide with mortification.
"Edward!" you cry.
"Exactly my point. That will be thirty-five dollars."
Get my car door, isn't that sweet?
Then pull me to the backseat
No one's ever had me, not like you.
"M'lady," Eddie's oh-so-grandiose display of chivalry didn't go unnoticed as he swung open the back of the van door so you could put your giant plushie he won you in the back.
"Thank you, kind Sir." you present curtsy and reach into the van to place your giant teddy bear on the floor.
Eddie brushes past you, popping himself into the van before pulling you in after him. Quickly, he shuts the door and sits you both in the back bench seat pulling you into a needy kiss.
"Waited to do that all damn night." his hands find your ass cheeks as you're sat in his lap.
"We made out on that death trap you call a ride," you mumble into his mouth, and Eddie sees this as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. His tongue enters your mouth, and you sense the urgency in which he needs you.
"Okay, big boy, let's take this party home."
"What, you don't want to fuck me in the parking lot like a couple of hory kids?"
"Please, that's so high school."
Tagging some of my swiftie mooties : @andvys @taintedcigs @ghost-proofbaby @ceriseheaven
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dulcesiabits · 2 days
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the birds weep for you.
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summary: what does it mean for a bird to live in a cage?
notes: 1.9k words, author's notes, power play, unhealthy/complicated relationships, character + relationship study
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i.
The bird flits against the rafters uselessly, wings beating in an eternal circle against the roof. Its small beak lets out distressed chirps, a language lost to human ears. The passing guests glance at it and then pass on, even as it spins uselessly, desperate for an escape.
“What should we do about that bird, sir? I propose we should capture it and then let it out the window. If it keeps going, it’ll tire itself to death,” you say, as cool and unflappable as ever.
“No. It won’t survive if we just let it go.”
“So what do you think we should do?”
“Let’s keep it with us,” Sunday says.
You nod. “I’ll have someone prepare suitable bedding, food and water for it, then. But…”
“Yes?”
“Are you sure it’s a good idea? It’s a wild bird. It might not be used to living in captivity.”
“It’ll get used to it once it gets shelter and consistent meals,” Sunday says. “That’s a much better fate for it.”
Your mouth turns in a slight, unconscious frown, as if that wrinkle on your face houses all your doubts ready to fly loose, but all you do is say, “All right, sir.”
The soft tread of your steps echo behind him, but Sunday can’t look away, his arms clasped behind his back. The bird is still seeking, just like the rest of the hotel residents, a paradise of its own.
ii.
In the time since Sunday has taken over the Oak Family, he has not once replaced his secretary. 
It’s convenient, for one thing, because you’ve worked for him for so long and training someone else would be arduous. And he also has a fondness for your diligence and work ethic, both of which will be difficult to replace. The two of you work well, and he has no professional complaints to lodge against you.
No, the only complaint he has isn’t a complaint so much as an observation: it’s the way you look at him, the flat mask you level at his face.
At first, Sunday thought it housed your hatred, simmering beneath the surface. He could deal with dissent. But you didn’t act as one would towards someone they hated. Perhaps you’re hiding your appreciation of him, then, out of some sense of embarrassment or professionalism. Also not out of place, considering how the rest of his employees praise his direction and skill.
But the more time he spends with you, the more he realizes neither are true.
What you really look at him with is apathy, a carefully curated distance. You neither fawn nor condemn him, not like your contemporaries. All you do is do what he asks of you, no more and no less, and let no judgment cloud your gaze.
He knows this because you unfurl jokes and levy smiles at your coworkers, speak in more casual tones and quips. But none of that warmth is ever directed towards him.
(And this is the more selfish reason Sunday keeps you close: what will make that mask of your crack? How can he peel back all of your layers until he can feverishly dig his hands into your soft, vulnerable parts? Reading and understanding people is easy: you’re the only one who escapes interpretation).
You’re an excellent secretary, he tells others. He has no complaints over your conduct, and he hopes to work with you for a long time.
(Sometimes, you look at him like you know him. Know his little games, his false smiles, his facades. It sends a little thrill through him, the implicit challenge and understanding of your gaze. Until he can finger all the pieces of your cracked facade, there’s no point in letting you go).
iii. 
Robin spreads her arms like wings against the sky, looking so free it makes Sunday’s heart ache. “Brother, I think I’m going to leave Penacony.”
“Is that what you want?” he presses, heart pounding.
If there is any hesitation in Robin’s voice, then he’ll leap on it and tug on her doubt until it balloons and he can convince her to stay. But she smiles at him, so sure, so trusting, like she has ever since she was a child, snoring in his arms.
More than anything else in the world, he is her oldest brother first and foremost. To crush her conviction here would be the cruelest thing he could do.
“It is. I want to do what I can to help others, and I can’t just do that within Penacony,” Robin announces.
“I’ll support you, then. Just… be careful.”
“Of course! I’ll write every month, so don’t worry!”
Not worry? What an impossible request. Robin is his little sister, a truth so ancient it’s coded in his DNA and embedded in his bones.
Sunday has been there from the moment she first drew breath, has been her eyes and ears when she was still learning to use hers. His little sister, his one and only surviving family. Even if the world crumbles to ash, she is the one person he cannot lose. He can always rebuild Penacony, but he can never build a new sister.
Robin believes in the good of the world, doesn’t see the same hopelessness and despair, the same hollow faces of the people who flee to Penacony for a refuge. Hope, she seems to think, will always bring the light back to their eyes.
What can Sunday do to understand the world from her eyes? Because maybe, just maybe, the paradise Robin shapes with her song can truly exist.
But the other part of him wonders only this: what can he do to keep Robin safe, even when she’s flying through the galaxy to distant planets he’s never seen, beyond his reach?
(Years later, after Robin has been hit by a stray bullet, Sunday will still wake up in the middle of the night dreaming of her blood, his neck aching from the ghost of a wound he’s never received. He will dream about birds falling out of the sky with broken wings, and he will wonder if there are any just gods in the world).
iv.
Like clockwork, you slide a white mug of coffee across Sunday’s desk, steam rippling across the dark liquid with the movement. You’re always efficient. There’s never a wasted gesture with you. 
Maybe he should promote you to a position even closer to him, where the higher paycheck and generous benefits will motivate you and ensure that you feel less inclined to leave. There are innocuous ways to tie you to his side so that leaving him will always be the worse choice.
Sunday balances the cup in his hand, taking a sip as he scans over his paperwork, and pauses, mouth parted in surprise at the sweet tang that cuts through the bitterness.
“What did you put in this?” he asks.
“Sugar. Three cubes of it,” you say.
“I don’t recall saying I wanted sugar in my coffee.”
“That’s because you didn’t,” you say dryly. 
“Then why?”
“Well, sir, you only drink black coffee with clients and members of the other Families. But in private, you always add three sugar cubes to your coffee.”
“How… meticulous.”
“It’s my job to know what you need before you do, sir.”
Sunday takes another sip. This time, the sweetness spreads through his mouth like a silent dream.
v.
Here are the irrefutable truths of the world:
The things that fly out of his grasp are too far to protect. He has to keep them close if they are to be safe. Better yet, under his protection, they will never need to fly and risk injury again.
Half-hearted kindness can’t save anyone. If he wants to save everyone, he has to sharpen his kindness into a weapon. That’s the only way to protect those who are weak in a cruel and unfair world.
There is no paradise to be found in this world. The only paradise will be the dream he builds with his own hands, a haven to everyone who needs shelter. True paradise can only be birthed from strict rules and regulations, to guide those who are lost.
It’s his duty to bear the burdens no one else can. Only he is capable of such a feat. To protect  paradise, someone must bear the curse of knowledge. 
Birds are born alone and will die alone, falling from the sky with no one to hear their cries.
vi.
It’s not love.
It’s not love, because Sunday doesn’t know what such a thing would feel like anymore. 
Is it love because he’s known you for so long, because you know his pretenses and stay with him anyways?
Is it love when he wants to bind you to him in such a way that it marks your soul forever, so that even in the next life he will find you again?
Is it love when he constructs the cage of Penacony around you, restricting your movement to his garden, where you can bloom eternally in safety?
Love, or possession, or familiarity, or desperation, or pulling you close until you have no choice but to look at him, or the urge to break your facade and see it glittering on the floor like shards of broken glass. It all means the same thing, at the end of the day.
(Sunday knows better now. If you want to keep a bird safe, sometimes you have to clip their wings to negate the danger of flying first).
vii.
You finger the golden bars of the bird’s cage, fingers trailing slowly along the metal. The bird tilts its head, unruffled. Sunday drinks in your every gesture, committing it to memory.
“It’s no longer skittish,” you murmur.
“Is that such a horrible thing? It’s gotten used to it.”
“But that means it’ll be harder for it to acclimate to the wild.”
“Then we’ll just keep it here forever. It’s infinitely safer here.”
“It’s your bird,” you say blandly. “I’ll follow whatever you decide.”
Sunday could laugh. Those aren’t your true feelings at all, but it’s fascinating to watch the wrinkle form in your brow, the tension of your displeasure. No matter what he says or does, you’ll always choose the path of least resistance, like a bird gliding in the winds of a storm, pulled along just to survive.
“We can name it if you feel bad for it,” he suggests.
“We shouldn’t name it. Then we’ll get attached more than we should.”
“I could name it after you,” he says, watching your face carefully for your reaction. All your little habits, your tiny tells: he knows them all. How can he not, with how long he’s been watching you?
Your eyes are still cold, but your shoulders jerk back just slightly. “That’s not funny, sir. I’m no bird.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” you emphasize. “Now I’m going to finish my paperwork. I’ll report back later.”
You stalk off, and Sunday watches the curve of your back recede into the distance, the ends of your coat fluttering like feathers. A coat that matches his in color, so you’ll always be marked by him in some indelible way. 
Sunday raises a hand and presses his fingers lightly against the bars, the metal retaining only the barest heat from your touch.
Inside its cage, the bird chirps. It might have been a lament or a condemnation, or even gratitude. But Sunday will never know for sure, and the bird will never tell him.
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princessbrunette · 2 days
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dbf!rafe thought he was doing a pretty good job at pretending he didn’t care too much about you. but it was coming to the late afternoon, and he’d driven past you wandering around town on your own wearing one of those stupid little mini skirts you’re crazy about and he had to do his duty and command you come with him. for your safety of course. he’d hate if some sick older guy got his hands on you.
“get in. c’mon.” he’s already acting irritable with you and it only spurs you on to act mischievous.
“why so glum, hm?” you pout, letting a small giggle slip through as you fasten your belt — the friend of your fathers glancing around the area briefly to see if anyone had seen his bosses daughter climb into his car before zipping off.
“what’d i tell you last time i saw you just— just walking around asking for trouble?” he berates and he’s not even sure why he’s so wound up. you just got him so pent up and touchy that he always found himself being this way with you.
“asking for trouble? mr cameron i was just hanging out.” you laugh, stretching your legs and going to rest your feet on his dashboard. he shoves your legs off, sending you a scalding glare.
“in that little skirt? yeah i wasn’t born yesterday, alright— you were probably off meeting guys.” he grumbles and you turn your head to him, heart fluttering at the jealous tone he had failed to conceal.
“oh no, not hanging out with guys my own age… that would be the most awful thing in the world, right?” you sark, and he resents the way he can hear the pretty smile in your voice without even turning his attention away from the road. he huffs out a scoff, shaking his head as he pulls up to the traffic light.
“told your old man i’d look out for you, right so — so i am just telling you that you shouldn’t be wandering around meeting guys dressed like a hooker. i know how guys brains work, okay — i am a guy. s’why i’m taking your ass home where you can’t get into any of that shit.” he rants, and before you can complain about him calling you a hooker your attention is caught by his promise to bring you home and you shoot up in your seat.
“no, please. just— anywhere else. not home.” you suddenly sound serious, and he nearly misses the stoplight turning green to glance at you in confusion.
“and why the hell not?” he drawls and suddenly you’re a lot more quiet. he raises his eyebrows waiting for a response.
“i’m fighting with my parents. i just… i don’t want to see them yet.” you sigh, staring at your manicure in your lap. as much as he wanted to teach you a lesson and drag you back into the house to your father, he knew what it was like to have a rocky relationship with his parents. because of this he sighs after his slight hesitation and turns in the direction away from your house.
“ah… shit, alright fine. the fuck do you wanna go then? gotta drop you somewhere, alright?” he relents and you beam.
“really? thanks mr cameron.” your elated expression calms itself into a pur as you lean across the gear stick and press a kiss to his cheek. he clenches his jaw.
“watch it.”
to this you respond with a giggle and he relaxes a little, knowing he had a little more time with you.
“where do you wanna go then? haven’t got all day, kid m’not a fuckin’ taxi.”
“hmm, your place?” you’re quick with your answer, almost like you had it planned. he’d given in a few times, let you have your way with him even though he knew it put his career on the line — and he told himself and you that this could go on no longer.
he huffs out a laugh, scratching at his cheek and shaking his head, choosing to ignore the suggestion. your bottom lip curls over at this, frowning a little.
“raaafe.��� you whine and he resists an eye roll.
“what you’re — you’re serious about that shit?”
“mhm… i missed you…” you coo, and he feels your warm body lean across the centre console again, a clawed hand finding his thigh as you speak into his ear. “c’mon dad.” you groan and he feels a hot rush of blood fly through him at the nickname. god you were sick.
“don’t fuckin’ call me that.” he turns into his driveway at tannyhill, parking up infront of the house haphazardly before turning off the car and not making any move to get out.
“just wanna play a little bit.” you complain, kissing down his white shirt leaving lipgloss prints that he’d soon complain about down the expensive material as he watches you with parted lips, feeling your hot breath fan over his hardening crotch.
“well if you’re gonna suck me off just fuckin’ do it alright. don’t wanna hear that shrill ass little voice unless you’re tellin’ me how good that shit tastes. c’mon.”
you couldn’t help but obey.
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jenscx · 3 days
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[18] CALL ME BACK — right here
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the sound of an engine revving catches your attention. your eyes move from wonyoung’s animated expression to the familiar black car, sakura’s face evident in the window.
she looks apologetic, but it flashes away once she sees who’s next to you. your throat automatically constricts, heat blooming at your cheeks when sakura struts to you, slamming the car door shut. you couldn’t help but find her anger attractive.
“baby,” she drawls out, “who’s this?” you can tell she’s acting. obviously sakura knows who jang wonyoung is.
“jang wonyoung, i’m yn’s close friend,” wonyoung introduces herself, but her smile is far from friendly. sakura grins back, her smirk akin to one of a predator. you twist your head to look at wonyoung again, her eyes flashing a glimpse of arrogance.
sakura’s hand slithers to embrace your waist. you nearly yelp at the sudden action. wonyoung’s eyes follow the movement, an eyebrow raising in question.
“you came pretty late,” wonyoung remarks cheekily, “did something, or someone, keep you from coming?” sakura’s jaw tightens, and so does the grip around your waist. you shriek.
“asshole!” you smack sakura’s shoulder, she knew you were ticklish there! your girlfriend merely chuckles, “sorry darling, but i just fell asleep. i didn’t hear my alarm going off.”
wonyoung hums. you turn to look at your friend, she’s been acting a little strangely. is it because of sakura?
“so, y/n,” wonyoung starts, a devilish smirk on her face, “wanna hang out on saturday? we left some things unsaid.” you furrow your brows, thinking of you had anything on saturday.
“uh, i think i’m fre—”
“baby, did you forget we have a date then?” sakura interrupts. you tilt your head curiously. since when did you arrange a date with sakura?
“huh?”
“aw, what about sunday? or are you spending both days together?” wonyoung pouts.
this time, sakura doesn’t retort.
“i think i’m free but i’ll get back to you?” you reply, but it comes out more like a question. being in the vicinity of both sakura and wonyoung confused you madly. not to mention, sakura was likely to leave bruises the way she gripped your waist.
at this point, sakura becomes restless and hugs you from the back.
“love, are you hungry? do you want to go get food?” she asks. your ears turn red at the nickname. sakura never called you ‘love’ before. it made butterflies swarm your stomach and your throat constrict with nervousness.
“uhh, ye-yeah… let’s go, kkura. see you tomorrow, or something, wonyoung,” you stutter, too focused on the way sakura caressed your waist and the attractive smirk plastered on her face.
wonyoung frowns, but covers it up quickly with a wave of her hand. you fumble in your steps to sakura’s car, her hand never leaving your side once. you think you might have saw her turn around to give wonyoung the finger, but maybe you were hallucinating. once you settle into the car, sakura turns on the radio.
“oh, baby,” she exclaims in glee, “this is the song we heard on our first date!” your ears perk up, it’s keshi.
“you remember that?” you ask.
“of course,” sakura rolls her eyes, turning the music louder. you giggle, stretching your hand out to encapsulate hers. your fingers intertwine as you hum to the melody. sakura spares you a few glances throughout the drive.
“i always thought you were really cute,” she says suddenly, “you came to the games but i never really talked to you, until that party.” you smile sheepishly at the thought of the party where you met sakura.
“that was so embarrassing, i almost puked on you,” you laugh. sakura shrugs, “it was cute, i had to hold your hair up and everything. like a meet-cute.”
you can’t help but feel warmth spreading all over you. sakura was so sweet. and such an amazing girlfriend.
“i’m sure i could have had a better first impression.. i probably looked terrible then.”
“oh baby, you already had all my attention the moment i saw you on those stands,” sakura laughs, “anything you did, i would just think you’re cute.” the song ends right at this moment. sakura continues humming while red flushes on your cheeks, spreading from your ears down to your neck.
why was sakura so smooth with her words? you both loved and hated it.
“stop being so cute, i’ll actually go crazy,” you mutter. sakura quirks an eyebrow up, “crazy for me?”
“yeah, crazy for you.”
“wouldn’t that be a dream for me?” you pout at your girlfriend, “stop making me so flustered, i’ll stop talking to you.”
sakura sighs dramatically, “i would die without your attention.” based on the way she acted previously, you wouldn’t be surprised if her words held some truth to them. the moment dies down and you’re back to comfortable silence. you enjoy car rides with sakura; you don’t have to keep talking to fill up the silence, you can just gaze at the ever changing scenery of the city. at its darkest, it is the prettiest. all the city lights flashing, shining at its brightest. it’s kind of ironic.
at a red light, sakura turns to you, “i’m really sorry for coming late. i didn’t mean to, and i just didn’t hear my alarm going off.”
you shrug, “it’s all good, kkura.”
“still, i’ll make it up to you,” sakura’s eyes glisten with sincerity. you melt at the puppy look and instantly lean in for a quick peck on the cheek.
“you look so cute right now. ugh, i hate how you always look so adorable without trying.” if not for the red light turning green, you would have taken both of her cheeks in your hands and started squishing her.
sakura giggles like a school girl. you almost feel like a teenager having a crush for the first time again.
“you’re always gorgeous without trying too.”
you wave her compliment off, “even when i’m crying with snot all over my face? remember when we watched move to heaven together? i wailed like a baby.”
your girlfriend snorts at the memory. your tear-stricken face along with rosy cheeks, paired with sniffles all throughout the episodes. “i still thought you were cute,” she remarks.
“sakura, i looked like i just crawled out of a sewer on most days,” you sigh. sakura falls silent. the only thing you hear is the running wheels of the car against the concrete streets.
“i beg to differ, but even at your worst,” sakura smiles, the city’s reflection in her eyes, “you’re still the only one in my heart. i’ll will be forever with you, right here.”
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coolestzed · 2 days
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Alright, I’ve been holding this inside for years but I’m finally gonna say it.
Misako haters are actually fucking annoying at this point.
They always were to me, but now, they’re just OBJECTIVELY an annoyance. And they need to STOP.
They take literally ANY chance to slander her, even when it’s completely unwarranted. Like, I’d just look at a picture of her on Pinterest, and there’d be multiple comments going "the world’s worst mother". Or I’d see content about Koko and there’d always be comments comparing her and Misako and going like "Koko way better fuck Misako".
I’d even see a fucking meme and people would slander Misako. Like they couldn’t resist.
And that’s not even mentioning his people constantly make her seem way worse than she actually is. Im not gonna quote everything, but basically they act like she never does good things for Lloyd. That she doesn’t care about him at all! And it’s just- so WILDY out of character!! And it’s the same vice versa! I saw a funny Ninjago video the other day with a "your mom" joke and someone in the comments was like "jokes on you, Lloyd would never call Misako mom". I’m just?????? Yes he DOES????? ALL THE TIME???
People just act like their relationship is nonexistent! Like they don’t care about each other, or that Misako doesn’t care about Lloyd! Which is OBVIOUSLY not true!
People claim that she disappears every other season but the only seasons she was absent in are 12 and 13. Also, she has a job. She goes on expeditions. Obviously she’s not there 100% of the time. And she and Lloyd clearly spend time together off screen.
People don’t even acknowledge the reason why she left in the first place. They act like she dropped him off at a boarding school and dipped to take a vaycay. She was literally trying to stop her husband and son from having to fight to the death. You ever think about that? You ever think about how SHE felt in the situation? With her husband being consumed by evil and later being banished, and learning that he and their son would have to fight each other? She was HORRIFIED and GRIEVING! Ultimately she did it to save her family. It doesn’t make leaving Lloyd right but it’s understandable.
But apparently not to almost all of the fandom.
Most of y’all, completely ignore that, and everything else that came after season 2.
Misako constantly being worried about Lloyd in Tournament of Elements and Possession.
Both of them spending Day of the Departed together.
Her getting/building the Destiny’s Shadow as a birthday gift for Lloyd.
How she supported, fought beside, and risked her life for Lloyd in Hunted.
How she wanted to stay and fight with him during MoTO but only went inside because Lloyd urged her to protect the civilians.
Not to mention just their general interactions. THEY’RE ALWAYS HAPPY TO SEE EACH OTHER!!! Do you know how many times they hug?!
And this dialogue here:
"Aren’t you going to kiss your mother goodbye?"
"Mooom, we've-we've talked about this-"
WHAT MORE PROOF DO YOU NEED?!
Lloyd and Misako have a good, healthy and loving relationship. Misako has long since made up for her mistake and they’ve moved on.
Yet THE FANDOM REFUSES TO!!!
EVERYONE, TO THIS DAY, STILL TREATS HER LIKE THE FUCKING DEVIL!!!
I CAN’T EVEN COUNT THE NUMBER OF TIMES PEOPLE HAVE HAD OVERDRAMATIC TANTRUMS FROM HER JUST EXISTING.
IT MAKES ME SO UNREASONABLY ANGRY.
AND THE FACT THAT I’VE SOMEHOW BEEN SEEING EVEN MORE MISAKO HATE DURING AND AFTER MOTHERS DAY IS ACTUALLY APPALLING.
NOT EVEN FUCKING ENDEAVOR FROM MHA GETS THIS MUCH HATE AND HE’S DONE MUCH WORSE TO HIS FAMILY.
IT. HAS. BEEN. OVER. 16. SEASONS. AND. A. MOVIE.
GET. OVER. IT.
*deep breath*
Look, she’s not perfect. Obviously. She fucked up. But who in this series hasn’t? She came back, and she’s made sure to be a better mother to Lloyd. He forgave her, and they have a good relationship now. They’re close.
She wouldn’t be as hated if the writers didn’t do her dirty. Her introduction wasn’t handled the best, and having her and Lloyd have a more in depth discussion would’ve made the reunion and forgiveness feel less rushed and forced. That love triangle with Wu and Garmadon certainly didn’t do her any favors either. 😑
Regardless, her character’s gotten better over the seasons. Again, she and Lloyd and close and have a good relationship.
But hardly anyone acknowledges that, almost everyone in the fandom hyper fixates on that one mistake from years ago. They don’t pay attention to anything else. Like how she’s a better mother, or how she’s just a generally good person.
You aren’t supposed to judge characters or irl people solely on their past mistakes. Especially when they’ve already made up for them. Thats why the "Misako’s a horrible mother" statement is always bullshit to me.
Seriously, Misako’s been a part of Lloyd’s life longer than she’s been absent from it at this point.
The amount of passionate, unforgiving hate she gets is so undeserved and over the top. Too many people are projecting their own issues onto her. Or just being plain hateful. It’s not fair to define her entire character on a single mistake that she’s long made up for.
And it’s definitely not fair to people that actually like Misako. Often times on the few positive posts about her, there’d be Misako haters in the notes or reblogs complaining about her or insulting her, or just stating they hate her but love the content. And that is completely uncool and rude. It’s so unnecessary. You don’t do that, that’s so shitty. The again Misako haters have a habit of spouting unnecessary hate. Like it’s a terminal condition they have.
So, please, for the love of god, COOL IT. Stop and think, try to ACTUALLY look at her character without the veil of blind hatred.
If you still dislike or hate her, fine! But if you’re gonna detest her, at least hate her as she is and don’t make her worse than she actually is to justify hating her more.
And PLEASE stop bashing her at every turn, it’s annoying, upsetting, unwarranted, unnecessary, and just not good.
Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.
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dumbdolphin333 · 1 day
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So I decided to dip my toes into the Apple White drama (because I got hit in the head with a basketball like 3 times like 2 days ago so I’m pretty sure I got the common sense knocked out of me)
This is by no means a hot take, it’s quite literally such a basic opinion that you’ve seen like 5 times already. But I want to be included 🥺👉👈
Apple was manipulated since birth basically. Her trauma makes her terrified of uncertainty. Finding comfort in her destiny, preparing for it since such a young age- it’s understandable that she’d be horrified at Raven’s decision not to sign. (Also being told that she’d die go poof if Raven didn’t sign… that’s fucking scary).
However Apple was still a massive bitch to Raven. She knows that Raven doesn’t want to be evil. She knows that a terrible fate awaits Raven. And she actively pushes Raven to make the choice to go through that. To go against her nature, to hurt her friends, and to suffer for something that she was forced to do. That’s selfish. Apple acts selfishly.
But something I find interesting is that her motivations aren’t selfish. She doesn’t want her friends to suffer. To an extent, she believes that signing the storybook is better for raven. She believes that not signing will cause suffering and death for everyone. So in her mind, Raven is selfish. All Apple wants is for her friends to live good lives- and Raven wants to take that away? Oh, how selfish!
Except that’s Apple’s fear talking. Ever After is better because Raven didn’t sign. People can choose how to live their lives. Apple is just so wrapped up in her trauma that she can’t accept that. She can’t accept that things aren’t how she was taught, that what she found solace in and dedicated her life to isn’t true.
So really I think it boils down to the discussion of intent vs. actions. Apple made selfish decisions. Her decisions are absolutely influenced by trauma and manipulation, but they are her’s. Denying her any agency over what she did is pointless. And it also undermines her character development. She was meant to break out of those selfish decisions. And if those aren’t her decisions- then how did she even grow? And even though she thought that her decisions selfless, they weren’t. Which is why Apple is so goddamn interesting.
I think that at heart, Apple is a good person. But factoring her fear, trauma, and flaws she made selfish decisions. She made harmful decisions. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I honestly feel that Apple White lovers love her because she has a desire to protect those she loves. And Apple White haters hate her because she’s selfish, despite not even knowing it.
So yeah, that’s my two cents. Hope I did her character justice in my regurgitation of everyone else’s opinions analysis of her.
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mingtinysworld · 3 days
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can you please write an imagine where y/n is hongjoong's childhood friend and when they grew up, she ended falling in love with san, because she thinks hongjoong only sees her as his “young sister”, but he gets really jealous and upset seeing her happy without him. 😭
(sorry my bad english, not my native language)
Okkk literally obsessed with this concept omg. Possessive/jealous Hongjoong is one of my fav things ever hehe. Thank you for requesting!!
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Look at my heart
Pairing: Hongjoong x fem!reader ft. San
Genre: angst, fluff
Word count: 1.5k
Networks: @newworldnet
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“What do you think of San?”
Hongjoong looks up with alarm, his position on your beat up couch stiffening. His voice gets caught in his throat for a second, not exactly knowing what to say. He blinks the daze away and makes hesitant eye contact with you.
“What do you mean Y/n? I barely know him.” He answers timidly.
You know San from your chemistry class that you share with Hongjoong. He sits across the room, and your only opportunity to interact with him is in group projects, which you’re grateful for. San, from what you can tell, is a very passionate and loving person. He loves getting to know people and dedicating his whole self to the people he loves. There’s some kind of spark about him that draws you to him, but you can’t help but needing Hongjoong’s approval.
You and Hongjoong have been best friends for almost your whole life. Your families were very close, so close to the point his parents were practically your parents. You have had countless experiences with him, solidifying your trust and bond with the man. Recently though, you’ve noticed a shift. You can’t figure out what it is though, no matter how hard you try.
“I think I might be interested in San.” You say quietly, as if you’re worried about scaring Hongjoong away.
“I-I mean, I don’t think my opinion really matters Y/n. If you like him, then I’d say go for it!.” He shows you a toothy smile, but not the Hongjoong smile you’re used to. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“I just thought I’d ask.” You speak a little too brightly, determined to break the building tension. You let out an awkward laugh and Hongjoong follows you, resulting in a stiff silence right after. Before you can move, Hongjoong beats you to it, declaring that he has plans to attend to, and leaves your apartment leaving you conflicted and confused.
———
The following day as you see him in class, he seems closed off, headphones on and mind in a daze. You decide approaching him isn’t the best option currently, opting to give him space by sitting at a different table. Coincidentally, the table ends up being where San is sitting, chipper as ever.
“Hi Y/n! I’m so glad you get to sit with me today!” He explains excitedly.
The pure joy in his face makes you smile despite the fact that your brain is facing immense turmoil. “I decided to sit somewhere new for a change!” You beam at him. He leans in close to you, and whispers.
“Did you and your boyfriend have a fight?”
Your body freezes and your mouth opens, not sure what to say. For some reason, your breathing quickens, and your nervous system feels attacked.
“He-he’s not my boyfriend. Why would you think that?” You ask cautiously.
“Have you seen the way he looks at you? Plus he also acts like your bodyguard, staring daggers at anyone who dares to approach you. He’s the main reason I haven’t made a move on you yet.” He shrugs nonchalantly, while your body is internally screaming, trying to process the information.
“You…wanted to make a move on me?”
He tilts his head slightly and holds your eyes meaningfully. “Absolutely. I think I would be crazy not to.” He winks playfully and you can’t help but blush. At that moment, you hear a loud chair scraping noise, and look back just in time to see Hongjoong’s agitated retreating form.
You try to ignore it, convincing yourself that he needs space. So you force yourself to turn back to the sunny face of San, and brace yourself for your words.
“San, will you go out with me?”
———
You start going out with San regularly, thoroughly enjoying your time with him. The conflict with Hongjoong has been pushed to the back of your mind, choosing to ignore it in order to not go crazy. You decide that if he wanted to, he would tell you if something was wrong.
You stopped sitting with him in class, a deep fear within that your connection has been severed, and not wanting to bear the consequences. Even though you’re not sure if you did something wrong, you can’t help but feel some kind of guilt deep down.
Due to this guilt, you eventually find yourself waiting in front of Hongjoong’s apartment. You’ve been standing there for at least five minutes, nervously debating whether to stay or leave. Finally, as you raise your knuckles to knock, the door opens abruptly, leaving you startled and like a deer in headlights.
“Y/n you might as well come in. It’s cold outside.” He sighs heavily and lets you in, trailing behind your small form. As you look at his stoic face, you can’t help but tear up, desperately needing to feel the warmth of your best friend.
“I’m sorry,” you say with a sniffle. “I’m sorry for whatever I’ve done to cause this rift between us. All I wanna do is get us back.”
“I don’t.”
“What?” You look up with wide eyes, his face not having changed in the slightest.
“I’m sick of feeling like this, constantly having to bottle up my true feelings, and for what? To just be substituted?” He speaks with a quiet anger, voice barely above a whisper, but you feel as you’re being hit with sharp icicles.
“Hongjoong, I don’t understand-”
“Of course you don’t,” he lets out a bitter laugh, eyes trained on the carpet. “You don’t understand and you haven’t understood all these years.”
“Understand what? Help me understand.” You plead with misty eyes.
At that moment, your phone lights up, showing San on your screen. Hongjoong notices and he immediately scowls, leaving his chair abruptly. You watch him stomp away and reluctantly pick up your phone.
“San? What’s up?”
“I wanted to see what my favorite girl was up to! What do you think of going on a picnic later in the afternoon?” He asks with excitement laced through his voice.
“San…I’m sorry, but I can’t today. I’ve got some…” you look at up and see Hongjoong at his desk, tapping his foot impatiently. “business to take care of.”
San seems to understand, but still can’t help but be disappointed. You say bye to him and hang up with a heavy sigh.
“Hongjoong, let’s please talk about this.”
He reluctantly stands up, returning to his spot earlier, and stares at you intently. “Do you really not know or are you just pretending?” You furrow your eyebrows and shake your head.
“I genuinely have no idea what’s going on.” You admit.
“Y/n, I can’t pretend anymore. It hurts me, just how much I ache for you. You’re all I think about, constantly, every day. I can’t fathom a life where you’re not in it, but seeing you with San is…it breaks me. I question why you don’t see me the same way you do him. We’re best friends, yes, but what best friend does what I do? Everyone else thinks I’m your boyfriend except you. Why are you so oblivious to my love?” He pours out his heart, voice cracking at the end of his sentence.
You’re stunned by his confession, not exactly sure what to say. All you know is that a fragment of your heart is being healed, being filled with a love you didn’t know you were missing. It feels whole suddenly, as if everything you’ve ever wanted has landed in the palm of your hand. You search his eyes for any signs of a lie, but all you see is raw emotion emanating in waves.
“Hongjoong, I didn’t know you felt this way. To be honest, I didn’t even think it a possibility. I thought that if I were to let myself feel what I felt, I would’ve ruined what we had. I locked that part of myself away, refusing to let it come to the surface. But…” You take a deep breath and continue. “Since you feel the same way, I can be free to feel.”
“Y/n, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I love you in the same way. I’ve been so stupid to pretend not to, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.” As the first tear travels down your face, Hongjoong leaps forward to envelope you in a tight embrace. He cradles your head against his chest as you freely sob, letting out your bottled emotions.
“I’m so s-sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted.” You hiccup as you speak, emotion overtaking you. “I love you, so so much.”
He holds you even tighter, as if afraid you’ll melt away. “I love you and have always loved you. Why do you think I try to scare off any guy who gets close to you?” You let out a laugh, a thick throaty sound.
“Hongjoong, I feel so stupid. I could’ve had you so much sooner.” You whisper against him.
“It’s alright, you have me now.” He sighs into your hair and mumbles by your ear. “However, it’s my first time seeing you cry this much. What a crybaby.” You look up at him with a glare.
“We never speak of this again, got it?” You ask with a playful threat in your eyes.
“Yes ma’am.” He says with a salute. “Now, I get to have you all to myself.” His mouth quirks up as you bite your lip to hide your big grin.
“Alright mister, let’s catch up on this relationship shall we?”
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joeshiestyslover · 22 hours
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i know it won’t work- m. sturniolo
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pairing: situationship!matt sturniolo x reader
summary: you and matt have been in a situationship for months. he had you wrapped around his finger, but you soon begin to unravel yourself.
warnings: ANGSTTTT, language, mentions of sex, no fluff, matt’s kind of a dick ngl
masterlist
lowercase intended
a/n: my first sturniolo ficcc 🤭
matt sturniolo. the boy you love yet can’t stay away from. you met matt at a party that was being thrown by a mutual friend. the moment you locked eyes with matt you knew you were a goner. he gave you his number and you immediately began talking. after a while, he had asked you on a date, and soon enough, one thing led to another and you wound up naked in his bed.
this became a weekly occurrence. matt would ask you out on a “date”, but you knew it was just a hookup, yet you wanted it to be so much more. matt isn’t a relationship guy. you’ve known this since the beginning, but maybe, just maybe, you could fix him.
right now, you’re lying in bed with matt watching some random movie matt had put on. it’s not the kind of movie that you actually pay attention to, rather just one to have on for background noise. you can feel matt’s hand run up under your shirt and rub your back. thoughts are swarming your mind about matt. would matt ever want something more than this?
your thoughts are interrupted by matt’s voice. “y/n?” he asks. you look up at him. “you okay? you kinda spaced out for a sec.” he has a concerned look on his face. it’s almost enough to fool you and make you think he actually cares. “yeah i’m fine, just tired.” you say. matt shrugs and turns back to the movie.
thoughts of matt continue to run through your mind. you two act like a couple, you sure as hell fuck like a couple. why wouldn’t he want something more? after a while, you build up the courage to speak up. “hey matt?” he turns his attention away from the movie to look at you. “what’s up baby?” you nearly melt at the pet name. “would you ever want to be an actual couple?” you ask him nervously. the look on matt’s face is unreadable. “why? everything is fine as it is. why would we need to put a label on it?” your face drops and you sit up. “matt we can’t keep doing this. we can’t keep going on dates, hooking up, doing couple-y shit without being an actual couple. that’s not fair.” matt sits up as well. “where is this coming from? this is the arrangement, y/n. you know this. i don’t do relationships.” he tells you. “but why?” your voice begins to raise. “what is so awful about relationships that you refuse to even give it a chance?!” matt sighs and runs his hands through his hair. “it’s just not my thing! why are you being so difficult all of a sudden?! are you not happy?!” he begins to yell. you stand up from the bed and groan. “i don’t know anymore matt! you treat me like your girlfriend, but you refuse to call me as such. i can’t keep going on like this!” “like what y/n?!” you run your hands down your face, trying to control your emotions. “this!” you point between you and matt. “the hooking up, the dates, the pet names, everything! you can’t sit there and say that there isn’t something real between us because there is! you just can’t admit it!” you yell. “because there isn’t!” matt stands up from his bed.
your heart drops. “what?” you say softly. “you’ve somehow managed to convince yourself that i actually want to be in a relationship with you, but i don’t. we hook up when we need it! that’s all we are, that’s all we ever will be!” “that’s not true matt, you don’t actually mean that.” you can feel the tears beginning to form in your waterline. “but i do y/n! what’s so hard to understand?! i don’t want to be with you! hell, i don’t want to be with anybody!” he basically screams. you can physically hear your heart shatter in your chest like glass breaking on a wooden floor. “matt…” the tears are free-falling now. he just stares at you coldly, a stoic expression on his face, waiting for you to continue. “i never thought you could be this cruel” you whisper, beginning to shrink into yourself, the shame and embarrassment starting to hit you. matt sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “look, we can just pretend this never happened, and we can go back to how it was before. i still want you in my life.” he begins to step towards you, but you step back. “no matt you’re not listening to me. we can’t just go back to how it was before. it doesn’t work like that.” you cross your arms and look down at your feet, wanting to be anywhere but here at this moment.
“y/n, please. don’t be like this. let’s just lie down and watch a movie, okay?” matt comes up to you and rubs your arms up and down. you almost accept his offer, but remember the cruel words that had just spilled from his mouth a few moments earlier. “no. i can’t do this anymore. if you don’t want to actually be with me, then i’m not gonna waste my time chasing after you anymore. it’s not worth my energy.” you say sadly. “y/n, baby.” you so badly want to fall into matt’s arms, but you can’t allow yourself to be entrapped by him again. “don’t do that matt. there’s nothing you can say that will make this better. you don’t want me, and i can’t force you to.” you explain. matt sighs. “fine. be like that.” he says, no emotion in his voice. “i have to go.” you begin to put your shoes on, and grab your phone and car keys. matt just stands there, looking at you getting ready to leave him forever.
once you grab all your things, you walk towards matt’s bedroom door. before you walk out and turn around to face him. he stands still in the middle of his room, just staring into your eyes. “goodbye matt.” you say softly before walking out of his room. you leave his house and get into your car. you begin to sob uncontrollably, wishing to feel any emotion but this. as you pull out of matt’s driveway, your car is silent, the only sound to be heard is your sniffles and occasional sobs.
after ten minutes, you reach your home. you turn off the engine and bolt to your room. you immediately lie down on your bed and start bawling once again, now being in the comfort of your own space. as you cry, you think about your memories with matt. the dates, the sleepovers, the sweet words. he had your wrapped around his finger. he had made a fool out of you and your love. how could you be so stupid? part of you wants to walk away from matt for forever until he actually listens. however, another part of you wants to take him back with open arms, but as long as matt only views you as a simple hookup, you know it won’t work like that.
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haikyu-mp4 · 13 hours
Text
Answer respectfully
word count; 626 – gn!reader, I hope following the dialogue is not too difficult in this one
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You’re ambitious, hardworking and gradually getting better and better at your job. Being a PR manager for the Schweiden Adlers was just another step on your way to greatness. You came from a difficult family and were always determined to not let any distractions stop you from getting what you wanted. You’re confident and you’re organised, always one step ahead, and Hoshiumi Korai is so obsessed with you.
While watching their game, you kept track of all the cameras, taking notes on who the photographers focused on as well as keeping a regular eye on your players and how they acted. They never worried you much while playing, oozing reliable confidence. You did have to tell Kageyama once that he shouldn’t stare at his hands and wiggle his fingers too much, and Ushijima that even though he gets stressed out and is not sure what to do when someone yells his name for a picture, he can’t always do the awkward smile and peace sign.
The problem, though, usually came with post-game interviews, adrenaline running high and breaths heaving, some were too happy when they won and some were too angry when they lost.
Hoshiumi is practically bouncing when he exits the court, waving to the crowd before his gaze stills on you standing behind some interviewers. As he made his way over, an interviewer cut him off and you sighed in anticipation. She had only asked a short question when Hoshiumi started his angry rant about how he obviously played well when you come up behind the interviewer holding a little paper sign that said something along the lines of answer respectfully.
So he huffed and turned back to the camera, adding something about how the team all make each other better and how he and Kageyama seemed especially in tune today, making the interviewer happily nod and then scurry off to find one of the older players as well. Your eyes were frantically moving around the room, taking mental note of everyone who decided to do interviews and other small things you managed to catch. A dull headache was lingering in the back left of your head, slowly making its way forward. Still, you managed to scold Hoshiumi at the same time.
“You’re a nightmare with post-game interviews, Hoshiumi!”
“Like in a good way?”
He smiled because at least he got you to look at him now. “How could that be in a good way?”
But Hoshiumi’s adrenaline had not worn off, and he was absolutely sure this was the perfect time to finally ask you out. “You tell me! Preferably over a nice dinner.”
“N- Hoshi! I’m trying to talk to you and you’re thinking about food?”
“Food with you!” he clarified.
“How is th-“
“Wait, were you about to say no?”
“Yes?” you said and glanced around, brain trying to force you back to work.
“You were about to say yes?”
Your eyes snapped back to him, wide in disbelief. “No! I’m trying to do my job.”
“You’re talented, you can do both. I’m paying.”
“We need to have a serious conversation about this.”
He takes a deep breath, realising he might have come on too strong again and seeing that most of the other players were moving along to the next appointment. “How about we take that conversation in a restaurant?”
You roll your eyes, you know him. “You never lis-”
“I promise to listen.”
“Fine.”
“Great!“
“Then you owe me a super nice interview after your next game.”
“Whatever you’d like.”
“And stop interrupting me all the time!”
He could not be happier, holding your jaw and pressing a quick peck to your cheekbone before running away, but not before you got to smack him with your notebook.
“Hoshiumi Korai!”
masterlist
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Note
Bugging you once again
How would Molten react to an extremely curious child monster who suddenly took a bite out of his goop because it looked kind of like candy to em?
Very specific I know I may or may not have an oc who acts like this hshshhsh
Ooh this is a fun one.
Firstly, I’m going to assume the child snuck up on Molt. He likes to keep his distance from others, physically, because proximity alone can influence other monsters, so I imagine he was distracted by something. As soon as he feels the bite, he’s going to be understandably shocked, then extremely worried. He’s going to call for his brother for help, or if Rem is not available, Cross and Blue will be at his side fairly quickly.
This kid is going to experience the sugar rush of a lifetime. Some fifteen minutes later they are going to be laughing hysterically, smiling real wide and having the best time of their life over the littlest things. See a butterfly? Uncontrollable burst of laughter. See a colorful pebble? They’re so happy they’re dancing, squealing, they can’t sit still.
The team's first priority is going to make sure the kid stays safe and doesn’t do anything reckless. (Difficulty level: Extreme.) Their second is to contact Sci. And then it’s going to occur to Blue to find the kid’s parents. They’ll surely want to know what happened! Contacting the parents is NOT going to occur to Cross or Molt because Cross grew up with a F+ father at best, and Molt’s parental figure was a Voice In A Tree. They’re both totally useless when it comes to How to Handle the Parents. But! As the only Well Adjusted member of the trio, Blue will know exactly what to do!
The good feelings are going to last for at least an hour, once they fade Withdrawal will kick in. The kid is going to be sad, gloomy, and lethargic. Possibly even temperamental. Thankfully, this is only temporary. By then, Blue will have, hopefully, located the parents and informed them of the situation.
In all in all. I t would Be a Day.
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peachkkuma · 2 days
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📓. DIARY ENTRY 07 ︴MAY 15, 2024
dear loass diary…
I just fully realized that I’ve been doing this like five minutes ago, so I had to write it here to get my thoughts out, make sure I don’t forget my realization, and hopefully have an epiphany.
So, context first. I’m sick rn and I remembered a specific part of one of Neville’s lectures where he said something along the lines of how a sick man wanted to be healthy so all he did was focus on being healthy. (semi-unrelated note to future self: Notice how I put “ALL HE DID” as in, that was the only thing he did? That’s because that’s the only thing he needs to do!! it’s all about having genuine awareness of obtaining your desires, stop over complicating it and trying to make excuses when u know damn well that’s all there is to the law). After remembering that I was like, “yo why don’t I try that” because why would I want to be sick?? So anyways I was like trying (emphasis on the trying) to imagine myself as my healthiest self and only be aware of being healthy. After two minutes of that, I decided to call it quits and thought to myself “hope it works.” GIRL WHATTT?? That’s my problem right there, I’m pretending even in my own imagination. I think I have myself fooled, that I’ve deceived myself into thinking that I believe I have what I want in imagination when I DONT. Right after my so called imagining I literally had the thoughts of a person who was sick, was aware and focused on my illness, and just overall identified as someone who caught a cold. and then, that’s when the common sense hit me and I was like “wait, who do I think I’m fooling?” It’s like I thought just because these circumstances exist in the 3D doesn’t mean they can’t also be in my imagination. It fr is like i see the 3D and 4D as something separate when that’s not at all the case. Because those thoughts of me being sick? That was a state, the was who I was in imagination. Who I am in imagination. Life truly is imagination. And I rlly feel that now. So, future me, let me try to help u out by telling u how to actually get into ur desired state and maintain it:
1. Decide u have it
“I have xyz” BOOM ur done, it’s done, because creation is finished. There is nothing to create in the 3D or the 4D, it already exists exactly the way u want it to, waiting for you. So act like it.
2. State ≠ instant gratification
I’m gonna hold ur hand while I say this, states aren’t here to be a relief or a distraction. They’re not meant to temporarily ease any anxiety u have. So stop treating the sowf as a temporary escape from the 3D, it’s real. and if u keep up this bad habit, if u start seeing the sowf as just a way to shut up ur worries without actually knowing it’ll come to pass, then you’re on a dangerous road that leads to believing the 3D is the real reality. And yk that it’s not.
3. Actually maintaining a state
U r meant to see the world from the perspective of ur desired self, the u that has it all. Why do u think it’s called the law of assumption girly? U gotta assume u already got it. My thing is, I have too much going on in my real life and I think “I don’t have time to be in the sowf I have too much on my mind.” That’s a problem because one, ur allowed to be a part of the 3D. U don’t have to pretend it doesn’t exist. And two, I’m identifying with the 3D and it’s circumstances. News flash, the 3D doesn’t just disappear the moment u say an affirmation or visualize a scene, u still have responsibilities. The trick is knowing that’s not u. U don’t have to be thinking like ur desired self 100% of the time so don’t expect urself too. Deal with ur stuff, but know who u actually are, who YOU chose to be. To maintain ur state, do whatever helps u feel like ur the u want to be. Revise ur day before bed, think the thoughts ur desired self would think, but don’t force anything. Forcing urself just means u feel like u don’t have what u want, and so ur desperate to get it, if u feel like u don’t have it, don’t force a method. Instead remind urself that it’s already done, it’s been done.u already decided that u had it, nothing can erase that decision except for u.
4. Getting used to it
Everytime I think of ur desired self remember that THAT IS U!! Not someone u could be or will be soon, BUT YOU RN. If u don’t feel that way, it’s because u identify with the 3D and ur past assumptions of urself, and we already discussed how that’s a huuuuuuggggeeeee no. Don’t force urself into getting used to it because, again, force means wanting to get something out of the 3D. But that’s not the real reality, so why want something from there when u can have what u want rn? Remember that ur imagination, ur awareness, ur consciousness, whatever u wanna call it won’t lie to u. It’s the most accurate reflection of both u and ur life. What u experience in there is ur real reality, whether that be the one u want or not. So girl, get used to being who u want to be. It’ll feel so weird at first, uncomfortable rlly. Cuz ik myself, the only way I’ll get in the state is if I keep myself in check. (going on a mental diet is okay if ur not doing it for the 3D, future self.)I’ll probably just be asking myself 24/7 “would my desired self think/react/feel like that?” And honestly, that’ll probably be the only way I’ll learn. Once u start correcting urself, for the sake of wanting to be ur desired self, it’ll come naturally. Both the habit of being in the state and ur manifestations
The law wasn’t mean to be tricky, how could it be when it’s literally called the law of assumption? There rlly isn’t much to it except assuming u have what u want by helping urself believe u have what u want, so stop trying to think there’s more to it— that it’s not that simple or easy. Ur wasting ur time with everything else, the overthinking, the wondering about the when and how, the over complicating, and the wondering if u did it right. Just be.
kisses, peachkkuma
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can you please do prompt 2 and 4 with johnny cade?
Outsiders Prompt Fic #5- Why does it hurt so much?
Hi anon! I chose prompt 2 to write for this one. Enjoy!
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Johnny Cade is no stranger to pain.
When he was three mama had dropped him taking him out of the bath and he’d hit his head bad enough to give him a concussion. When he was six dad had broken his arm after he lost a little league game and cried about it. He’d survived more beatings than most kids could even dream of- even most east side kids. He’d been sworn at, screamed at, kicked, punched, slapped, and on one particularly memorable occasion when he was fourteen, walloped with a two by four when his old man had been laid off from his job at the lumberyard. He’d even been jumped, bad enough that that horrible white scar tore down his face would be a permanent fixture he was still trying to come to terms with. Over the years he’d come to learn how to grin and bear it. He took every beating in silence, because crying or begging or even screaming only ever made them worse. He’d laughed with broken ribs. Smiled through a puffy lip. Leaned against his friends even when it pressed against his bruises, until pain became first a constant and then an afterthought, simply another fact of his miserable life. You spend enough time in pain, he’d come to realize, then being in pain just becomes normal. 
Which is why it’s strange that the stomach flu of all things seems to be able to bring him to his knees- literally. He’s currently puking in the Curtis’ bathroom, unsure if the vomiting or the agony radiating from his stomach is what’s forcing tears from his eyes.
God, his stomach hurts. He can’t remember anything ever hurting this much. Not even that time mama pressed his palm against the stove when he was eight and accidentally spilled the dinner she made.
“Easy Johnny, you’re alright,” Pony is here, the quiet, supportive pillar he’s always been that makes him Johnny’s best friend in the whole world. Though a part of him is embarrassed that anyone is here to witness this, a much larger part of him, the part that is tired, sick and in pain, is infinitely glad that Ponyboy is here. Pony won’t judge him, never has, never will. Pony will take care of him, the way he has for the past three days, and not make him feel like a baby. Everyone else, whenever they’re around, has hovered and coddled. Pony is just present, his worry quieter, his care soft with love but not pity.
Even Dallas had been weird about this, the whole Johnny being sick thing. He’d acted like a spooked horse when he first got sick and not reappeared after he first came by to check on him two days ago. Maybe if Johnny wasn’t feeling so lousy, he’d care more about that, try and puzzle out why. As it is, it’s all he can do to make sure he makes it to the toilet every time he needs to puke.
It’s a strange illness, one Johnny is quite sure he never wants to experience again. Crashing waves of nausea and pain for hours, followed by brief reprieves where he believes he’s started to turn a corner before the nausea returns full force. It’s a vicious cycle. Johnny hates it.
He’s so tired. 
“It’s just the stomach flu,” he murmurs to Pony, slumping bonelessly against his friend’s side. The younger boy presses a glass of water into his hand, and Johnny lifts it to his lips, his hand shaking like a leaf, “why does it hurt so much?’
“That’s just the thing ain’t it Johnnycakes? I’m startin’ to think it isn’t just the stomach flu.”
Pony’s getting real worried now, Johnny can tell because his voice always gets a bit younger when he’s anxious and he starts immediately looking around for Darry. But Darry isn’t here right now, is at work for at least the next hour. Soda and Steve are both working close at the DX, Two-bit is nursing his own sick kid sister, and Dally is still wherever Dally is. If the chips turn down- and they will, because Johnny knows he must have been born under a bad star for all the times luck is never in his favour- Pony is all he’s got. The thought isn’t as daunting as perhaps it should be. Here he is, sick and not entirely conscious, and all he knows is he trusts Ponyboy Curtis with his life. For all Ponyboy is two years younger, for all he’s the baby of the gang, Johnny doesn’t know anyone he depends on as much as him.
“Probably not,” he admits. This isn’t right, he knows it, has known it since yesterday even. The stomach flu shouldn’t feel like there’s a hot iron stuck in his abdomen, shouldn’t make him half paralyzed with pain and unable to think properly. “Whatever it is, I think it might be bad.”
“Darry’ll be home in a hour,” Pony says decisively, and if Johnny wasn’t so sick he doesn’t think he’d be able to hide his grin at the fact that for all Pony complains about his eldest brother, he’s always the first person he goes to in a crisis, “I’ll give him a call, see if he can hurry along, and we’ll get him to take you to a clinic.”
“Don’t got insurance,” Johnny points out. If he went to the doctor, it wouldn’t matter if this illness didn’t kill him because his old man sure would, “can’t afford no hospital bills.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Ponyboy waves his concern off, “Darry got Dal to get you a fake insurance card. It’s a real good forgery, looks as good as my real one. Far as the state’s concerned, you’re me when you’re sick.
“I ain’t passin’ those hospital bills to you guys!”
“Well we ain’t takin’ no for an answer. If you need a hospital, you’ll go.”
Johnny can tell he means it. He also knows Darry and Soda will back him. All the Curtis boys are as stubborn as they come, and selfless to boot.
He sighs, too tired to argue.
“Alright.”
“I’ll go give Darry a call,” Pony says, squeezing his shoulder gently before he leaves. 
Johnny counts the tiles on the bathroom floor as a fresh wave of agony rears it’s ugly head, causing sweat to bead on his brow and harsh breaths to force their way through his clenched teeth.
He’s only managed to count thirteen tiles by the time Ponyboy returns with a cool cloth and a relieved expression.
“Darry’ll be here in twenty minutes,” Pony tells him, pressing the cloth against his burning neck. He can’t help but sigh at the feeling. It does nothing to dull the pain but offer something else to focus on, but for Johnny that’s enough, “he was almost done anyway but his forman let him go early since it’s an emergency.”
He bites his lip, and Johnny can tell he’s trying very hard to decide whether he’s going to say whatever it is he’s thinking.
“Dar…darry says he thinks you might have appendicitis,” he says at last. Huh,Johnny thinks, that kind of makes sense. With his luck, it’s not surprising his own organs have decided to mutiny against him. “He says he was worried about it yesterday but now he’s pretty sure. You’ll definitely need the hospital.”
At this point, if a hospital can make the pain even lessen, it’ll be worth it.
“Thanks Pony,” he leans his head against his best friend’s shoulder, too tired and too sick to do anything else.
Pony rests his own head on Johnny’s, long hair tickling Johnny’s cheek, until Darry bursts in in all his superman glory and takes control of the situation the way he always does.
Johnny Cade is no stranger to pain, but with a friend like Ponyboy Curtis to help him through it he doesn’t really mind.
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queer-reader-07 · 7 months
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it is so vitally important to me that aziraphale and crowley not only love each other but choose to love each other.
i don’t want it to be fate. i don’t want it to be god’s will. i want it to be a conscious and continuous choice.
i want aziraphale choosing every day of his goddamn existence to love crowley and all that he is. i want aziraphale choosing to love crowley not in spite of being a demon, but because he is a demon. i want aziraphale choosing to love crowley’s curiosity and creative wonder. i want aziraphale choosing to love crowley’s love of plants and gardening.
i want crowley choosing to love aziraphale’s passion for books. i want crowley choosing to love aziraphale’s desire to do things the human way even if he could just miracle it. i want crowley choosing to love aziraphale’s angel-ness because it is a fundamental part of him.
i want aziraphale choosing to love everything about crowley and vise versa. and i want it to be a very conscious and intentional choice.
it being fate negates the entire point of the story. good omens is a love story between an angel and a demon, yes. but that’s not all that it is. it’s a story about two occult/ethereal beings who choose humanity over the great plan. two beings who choose the world over armageddon. and they make those choices because despite it all they have chosen to fall in love with the world and with humanity.
it only makes sense that they choose each other. that they choose their love. it being fate or god’s will ruins the foundational pillar of their relationship. that they choose each other over and over and over again. year after year, century after century, time and time again. they always choose. they choose the arrangement, they choose saving the other from harm, they choose lying to protect the other.
it is always a choice. and it better stay a choice or i am going to be so devastated.
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dimitrscu · 1 year
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i love pride month but at the same time it always makes me feel so bad about myself. just knowing that i’ll never be able to properly come out because my family will turn on me and because of that i will never be able to have a relationship just makes me feel really awful
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cherrysnax · 5 months
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the one thing abt being hyper aware of ur flaws is that u can kinda make it a lil bingo game
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padfootastic · 2 years
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Honestly one thing I feel weird is, why is it important whether Sirius is tall or not TO YOU? Meant, if you love Sirius, don’t you have to love him when he’s tall and when he’s short? Why, my favorite character is Sirius, and I love tall Sirius and love short Sirius. Because his height isn’t what made me love him. Is it to you? You love ‘tall Sirius’, not Sirius himself? It’s just weird to me usually people focus on just his height while they focus on many things when it comes to our Remus.
gonna be honest, i made like. 2 comments in the tags of someone else’s post once. i wouldn’t call that focusing on his height.
also,,,,,dear anon,,,,,have u gone through my blog? the whole thing is an ode to sirius black and james potter 😭😭 how can i make my love for him any more obvious
(also gonna take this to answer the anon who i can’t publish bc…names, but, why would u think any of my opinions on sirius are influenced by remus + his fandom when i don’t even like him 😭😭 if anything, i’d make sirius tall so he could take care of his darling angel baby james but then that doesn’t work either bc like i said, my james is *large* and carries sirius around regularly and manhandles him effortlessly so,,,,where do we go?) (also, pls, i beg, stop equating physical characteristics with sexual positions. i know a lot of fics/people do it, but that’s not how it works 🥲)
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