#cool pain and suffering about this relationship. god.
Text
headache
reader x soft dom!seonghwa
smut | mdni
1.7k
you've been suffering from headaches recently but your boyfriend knows exactly how to get rid of them
nsfw tags under the cut
very gentle and soft dom!hwa, established relationship, daddy kink, pet names (babygirl, angel), making out, oral (f), fingering (f), hwa is pussy drunk, tiny bit of possessive!hwa, praising, edging, watersports + omorashi
a/n: i stumbled on a twitter p♡rn link and it blossomed into this <3. a lot of you asked me for more ws so here it is hehe. i hope you enjoy. if it's not your thing it's okay! just dont read okay babe? i have other fics for you in the masterlist <3
DISCLAIMER: PLEASE MAKE SURE TO READ THE TAGS AND TO CLICK OFF IF ANYTHING SEEMS LIKE SOMETHING YOU WOULDN’T ENJOY.
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Recently you’ve been suffering from recurring headaches. At first you thought it was your cycle. But then you became more attentive to when the headaches occurred. And it turns out you simply were not drinking enough water! The thing is that your headaches always happened when you got home after being at your boyfriend's place for a couple of days. Simply because, well, when you were there you’re too busy cuddling and kissing to be taking your lips off him for even a second to drink a sip of water.
The good thing is it’s an easy remedy: just drink more water.
And Seonghwa intends to ensure your good hydration this time. Out of kindness of course, out of love! Nothing more! He just hates when you get home and call him the next day with your small little voice to tell him you had to lock yourself up in the dark, because your head is ringing and he can’t even be around you to pamper you and take care of his baby, that breaks his heart. He hates to know you’re in pain.
So today your loving boyfriend makes sure you do just that: drink more water.
When you watched the latest episode of your series on Netflix he paused several times to get you a full glass of water. When you ate your take out again three full glasses of water.
Chilling on your phone watching tiktok “don’t forget your water baby~”. Listening to his hilarious work stories “your water babe”.
Even going as far as making you drink when he held you in his arms and you complained about not being able to reach the glass on the coffee table.
“Here baby” he said, putting the rim of the glass against your lips.
He couldn’t explain it but he felt himself twitch at the way your lips pursed up and opened slightly around the glass, your neck bending and following his wrist as he tilted the glass to let the water flow into your mouth. He throbbed at the way the water disappeared into your mouth as you swallowed in big gulps until the glass was completely empty, the ice cubes tinkling against the glass as he set the cup back on the coffee table.
“Aaaaah~” you sighed in satisfaction. “Thanks Hwa”
“You’re welcome my angel” he said before pecking your lips made cool from the fresh water.
God how pretty you were like this, wrapped up in his arms like a fragile little bird, looking up at him with this bright smile and shiny wet lips.
He planted another kiss right on your wet mouth but this time he parted his lips, his hot tongue reaching out to your cool one. Kissing you gently but deeply sharing his warmth and spit until your mouth was burning hot. Long fingers wrapping around your nape and pushing your face further into his. The gesture made you moan into his mouth making him smirk into the kiss. He loved the sounds that you made. So much so that he haphazardly reached for the TV remote to mute the device. He wanted to hear you, only you.
Then Seonghwa slipped you out of his lap to sit you on the couch. He kneeled in front of you to very carefully flip the hem of your skirt over your stomach. He couldn’t help but to smirk when his eyes finally laid on the beautiful lacey panties you were wearing today. One of his favorites. Baby pink with a pearly bow in the center. A pair he picked and gifted you.
“So fucking perfect” he breathed as you pushed your thighs together, feeling your arousal pool into the lace as he praised you.
He bent over your legs to kiss the soft skin of your thighs, working his way up until he pressed a couple more to your pubic bone. You jerked a little as he pressed his face a little too hard on your lower stomach, given how much water you had drank.
“Now be a good girl for daddy and spread your legs” as he sat back up. You looked down at him through your lashes but still you obeyed and parted your knees as you heard your boyfriend curse under his breath. He smirked, spotting the wet patch of fabric, making the pink ever so slightly darker.
“You’re wet already angel?” he snickered, his palm caressing your open thighs.
“Y-yeah. I got wet when daddy was tongue kissing me” you confessed before biting down on your lower lip.
“Fuck” Seonghwa swore again, his dick twiching in his pants, he could feel himself already leaking precum onto his boxers. He just loved when you were so upfront with him. You looked so innocent, covering half of your face with your back hand and breathing rapidly but your pussy was already soaked and gushing for him. And you had no shame admitting it and exposing yourself to him. To his eyes only. You were his only
He pulled on your legs to bring your ass to the edge of the couch before pulling your panties down, not even taking the time to discard them, just letting them hang on one of your ankles before he prompted you to spread your legs for him again.
The way your pussy lightly twitched and sparkled covered in your juices had his cock quivering in his sweatpants. He wanted to taste you. He needed to.
He approached his face to your sopping center and licked a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. Right before curling his tongue back in his mouth, scooping as much of your slick as he could, smacking his lips to fully take in your taste. Your flavor was sweeter than honey and more intoxicating than the strongest liquors.
Seonghwa wrapped his arms around your under thighs and pushed his palms on your hips. Securing you right in his hold and spreading you like a buffet.
“Fuck daddy~” you whined.
He approached his mouth once again but this time his lips wrapped around your clit as he gave you light kitten licks. He looked up at you lapping away at your bundle of nerves, you couldn’t help but to moan at the pleasure you felt. Soon you started to rock your hips, rubbing your juices onto his face as he didn’t alter his pace.
“Please Daddy” you complained, yearning for more.
“My baby girl is so eager” he said, not parting his lips from your heat.
“It’s because I love daddy’s mouth so much.” you whined. “Please let me cum on daddy’s tongue”
“Soon my baby. But daddy wants to taste you thoroughly first”
Minutes passed and Seonghwa was taking so much pleasure in edging you. Licking and sucking on your clit only to back away when he felt you twitch on his tongue just to see your precious little cunt throb around nothing and gushing out more of your juices just to be savored by him and repeat the process over and over again.
But at some point you couldn’t even focus on the pleasure anymore. The only thing you felt was how full you were. How full your bladder felt.
“Daddy” you started cautiously.
“Yes angel?” your boyfriend replied, face still buried deep in your throbbing cunt.
“I-I think I drank too much water. I need to go to the b-bathroom” you said, shame slowly creeping under your skin.
Seonghwa smirked against your folds. Only to latch onto your clit again, this time licking more precisely on the sensitive bundle of nerves, making you moan loudly and arch your back.
“It’s okay baby. Daddy doesn’t mind.” he growled, eating you out like a starved man.
“No please daddy stop” you begged as you felt your pussy contract around nothing, your bladder also contracting dangerously. “It’s gross daddy” you complained, kicking your feet as the pleasure kept on rising.
“If it’s too much for you, just let go, okay angel?” He cooed against your folds.
“Please daddy…” you inhaled sharply, feeling yourself filled to the brim with piss. “Gonna p-” you whined but Seonghwa interrupted you.
“Just piss in daddy’s mouth baby” he said, pushing on your hips angling them just right. And you just couldn’t hold it in any longer. You let out your hot steamy piss right into your boyfriend's mouth. Seonghwa backed up a little and stuck his long tongue out as the powerful stream hit him right in the back of the throat letting out gurgles of satisfaction, gulping down as much piss as he could, mouth rapidly filling up to overflow and wetting his gray sweatpants.
When the stream started to slow down he wrapped his lips around your clit again and shoved two long fingers inside your cunt that he curled right into your g spot, pressing against your bladder again. The stream of hot piss picked up.
He wanted to drain you, take all of your piss for himself.
He started to pump his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt rapidly.
“Fuck daddy loves your piss much baby” he briefly said before sucking and licking your clit again, swallowing more of your delicious nectar.
“Daddy I'm cumming” you cried out.
“Cum for daddy baby” he allowed. And you finally leap over the edge. The orgasm is one of the most intense ones you’ve experienced. It completely rips through your body and shatters the earth beneath you as your legs tense up and your hips shake uncontrollably. Your hungry little cunt violently twitching around Seonghwa’s relentless fingers still pumping in and out of you, accompanying you on your descent, grunting and humming against your folds and he licked and sucked on your swollen bud until the pleasure died down and your legs fell limp, hanging over Seonghwa’s toned shoulders.
Seonghwa took a moment to admire your red and swollen cunt, occasionally twitching with the remnants on the strong orgasm your felt, sticky juices still lazily oozing out your entrance. He licked out one last stripe from your entrance and parted your lips with his tongue to twirl around your pee hole one last time.
“I think you’re cured now” he beamed at you smacking his lips, relishing in the intoxicating taste of your slick and piss one last time.
What a good boyfriend he was making sure you drank enough and making you cum to prevent your headaches.
IF YOU ENJOYED DONT FORGET TO REBLOG 🖤
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a/n: im still so self conscious about publishing watersports and this one was very filthy sooo pleaseeeeee comment and tell me if you enjoyed okay? just drop an anon ask if u dont want to leave ur userid on here! i would appreciate it so much <333
#seonghwa smut#ateez smut#seonghwa#ateez seonghwa#seonghwa fanfic#seonghwa fic#ateez fic#kpop smut#seonghwa x you#seonghwa x reader#ateez x you#ateez x reader#ateez hard thoughts#ateez hard hours#seonghwa hard hours#seonghwa hard thoughts
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Blazing Promises | Part 5
|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader
|Warnings|: Hurt so much hurt God pls help our poor souls, Wednesday has severe relationship trauma because of a certain normie, comfort at the end tho, kiss the pain away, you both cry in this one, tell me if I should add more warnings
|Summary|: Wednesday Addams breaks down in front of you.
|A/n|: Here is the last chapter to the mini series, check end of fic and replies for more. Song is I Don't Want to Miss a Thing by Aerosmith
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Terrible.
That's the word for how you look right now.
And that's also the word to describe what Wednesday had done to you. She knows this, so as she stands outside your door looking at your puffed-up eyes and your quivering lips, her feet dread to take a step.
Get inside. Just do it. Now.
So she did. Her gaze tears away from yours to the floor, and she shuffled across your room. The space feels vast. Suffocating. What had she done?
She noticed the sweaters first. Her sweaters sprawled across your bed. Then the tissues—you quickly pick them away and throw them into the bin near your desk. Atop your desk, the trigonometry workbook is still there where she left it; the pages closed before much is filled in.
The room was dark, save for the dim light from your stained window. Somehow that made Wednesday feels tense. She doesn't like this. She doesn't like you. Not in this state.
"What did you come here for?"
Your voice was hoarse. You must've been crying.
"I wanted to talk."
Her voice was frail. She felt weak.
You kept your distance from Wednesday. Like you were scared of her, revolted of her. And you should be. After all, she'd hurt you.
Say it. It's now or never.
"I'm sorry."
You can hear the strain in her voice—like she had to shoot her ego down with a silver bullet. Like it was hard for her to even say she was sorry. To show that she's apologetic.
"You should be."
And Wednesday can see the agony, the rage in your features. Your chest was heaving while you pressed your lips into a thin line. You were trying to keep your cool, to not scream at her; her words, her actions, the foolishness that comes with it.
You looked like you'd been robbed of your vitality, your strength. And the sight ripped a giant hole in Wednesday's heart. How could she hurt you that badly? You give her honey, and she feeds you poison. Wednesday feels a terrible weight pressing her shoulders; thick fog enfolds her mind.
You were her light. Her flame. But now it's flickering, and Wednesday fears herself getting plunged into darkness. The kind she has grown abhorring.
And though Wednesday's little black heart wrenched and twisted at the coldness in your voice, she couldn't bring herself to show it. Show how much it hurts her. Because she knows she deserves every sting and burns that blazes her entire being now; you must've suffered through worse.
"I know," Wednesday feels like her skull was about to bust open, "and I..." She couldn't find her words, and it was killing her. It was unfair that she'd put herself into this position, a conversation she couldn't finish. A sentence she can't end.
"You what, Wednesday? I don't have all night."
Run. Or stab your heart and pull the blade out. Do something.
But she did neither. She did nothing. Wednesday only stands there, her body slumped in defeat.
Defeat, she couldn't admit it. Succumbing to it would mean losing herself. Losing you. Did she already lose you?
Wednesday lets out a shaky breath, her fingers messing with the hem of her black shirt. Her mouth opens and closes a couple of times before she speaks, "I feel things," and she stole a quick glance your way, "for you."
Was that enough for you to understand?
"What things, Wednesday? Because I thought we felt things before, and you said those things weren't true."
You were pricking needles to her skin; the truth carried in your words slitting open wounds in her mind. Was this what you felt the last time you were with her in this room? Oh, death. Even death wouldn't bring her the sweet relief from this torment.
"I don't know."
You scoff into the room at that. "Of course, you don't."
Wednesday feels herself shrinking in place. She feels small, and she wants to give up. But even that feels wrong. She doesn't know what to do.
Just say anything. Choke yourself if you have to. Jump off the balcony after all this is over. But right now, talk.
"I feel things," Wednesday tries again, "things that aren't clear, aren't simple." She looks up to see you staring at the wall, unable to face her or her words. Maybe that would make this easier.
"Things I've found in countless pieces of literature, books, and poems. In music, in rhythm, in harmony. In people, in their homes, and in their voices."
Wednesday doesn't know where she's headed with all this. But she knows she has to speak, however confusing and debilitating it might be. Her feet staggered front a few inches.
"I'm scared. Because I thought I've been here before." And you look at her now, really look. Vulnerable. She looks like she's about to crumble if you speak a word.
So you don't. You listen.
"I'm scared. Because the last time I was here, I was wrong." Wednesday felt her vision blurring, and she almost didn't care. Almost.
"Because I don't know what I'm feeling, and though I have a sneaking suspicion of what it is-" she paused, her eyes scanning your face, searching for any trace of judgment on it, "-I'm afraid I would be wrong."
You take a step in Wednesday's direction. It felt like the right thing to do.
"I'm afraid I'll hurt you," a tear rolled down the raven's freckle-painted cheek.
"I'll hurt me."
Her voice was barely above a whisper, and Wednesday knew she was one word away from combusting in tears. It feels hot. The blaze consumed her body, her mind. It threatens her to crumble, to sink, to wither.
And so she did. She had said it all; her fears, her deepest secrets to the only person she cared about. You.
Her weakness, now you hold the key to her doom. If you wanted to, you could kill her. And she'd let you. Wednesday feels her knees buckle and fail her, body landing with a thud on your floor.
You rush to Wednesday's side, hands coming to clutch her body. Now you're both set on fire. The tears did nothing. It was just there, staining both of your clothes now.
"Shh, it's okay, it's okay," you hug Wednesday like there's no tomorrow, like this was the last time you'll feel her close to you, "I understand now."
She's in pain. She's in agony. She hurt you because she thought you would hurt her.
But you would never.
What sounded like hiccups turns into painful wails; Wednesday's cries tear through the thick, stifling air, slowly dispersing it as you join her. Your hand patted her back tentatively in fear that the act would break her even more.
But she pushes herself to you, burying her head in the crooks of your neck. You can feel her tears drop and wet your side as she screams openly to your shirt, the sound of it muffled.
It feels messy, like you both are melting into each other. Your bodies are drenched in sweat, but neither of you wants to let go.
You want her. She wants you.
The doubt was gone.
You press your foreheads together, and Wednesday still has her eyes closed. It's red and puffy, and you're sure yours are too. She looks terrible. And pretty.
You forgive the pain because she has let you in.
Her breathing starts to even out, and you can feel her muscles relaxing. You're both in the eye of the storm; there was only peace, quiet, and silence.
Then, familiar melodies played. The song you heard coming from outside your window earlier that evening. The same song you cried to alone—just moments ago.
I could stay awake just to hear you breathing
You take Wednesday's hand in yours. It feels warm.
Watch you smile while you are sleeping
She shifts in her seat, intertwining her fingers with yours.
While you're far away and dreaming
You lift her hand and kiss her knuckles.
I could spend my life in this sweet surrender
She opens her eyes.
I could stay lost in this moment forever
Wednesday is now looking at you.
Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure
Her gaze was kind, though bittersweet.
Don't want to close my eyes
You hum to the tune.
I don't want to fall asleep
She listens.
'Cause I'd miss you baby
You smiled.
And I don't want to miss a thing
She whispers the words to you.
At that moment, it felt perfect. Two broken fools, sitting on hard cold wooden floors. It was messy, but it was right. You belong together.
"I held that damned boom box above my head not because I wanted to," Wednesday rasps, "Enid forced me, just so you know."
Giggles burst from your lungs. A red coat now paints Wednesday's cheeks.
"I didn't know you did that." You smiled at her; it was soft and teasing.
"Shut up. I hate you."
Wednesday grasps your hand tightly as if she's afraid you'll pull back; her gaze doesn't dare to falter from yours.
"I love you too," and you see the corner of Wednesday's lips twitch, "I really do."
A mutual understanding. An exhale of relief.
"Promise?"
You press your lips to hers; it's soft and gentle, dizzying and passionate. It was light as a feather, sweet as cotton candy. It was strong like waves, burning like an inferno. You've become one and the same; servants of Aphrodite. It was a pledge, an oath—though unspoken—that you'll never leave her side, never betray her.
The shade, the scarlet, the tricks, the echoes.
"Promise."
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
|A/n2|: Thank you so much for going through this mini journey with me, I poured my heart out for this one, I hope you enjoy reading as much as I did writing it.
#wednesday addams x reader#wednesday addams x you#wednesday addams fanfic#wednesday addams imagine#jenna ortega x reader#wednesday addams#wednesday x reader#wednesday series#wednesday x you#wednesday#wednesday x y/n#wednesday netflix#Spotify
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luvr boy.
INCLUDES ! izuku midoriya x black!fem!reader
GENRE ! fluff
SYNOPSIS ! general relationship headcanons with izuku !
WARNINGS ! cursing, fem!black! reader, we still in high school y’all, a little uraraka slander (read to understand), edited
WORD COUNT ! 1.6k
A/N ! another repost, i had to break it up bc it was a lot of text - izuku motherfucking midoriya. the blasian himself. isaiah niggadoriya. him with a black female? him with a melanated goddess? i think it god’s greatest gift to give izuku ‘deku’ midoriya a beautiful, melanated, healing black woman and for me to write about it.❤️🥰 also, i hate the way uraraka is written and i will not hold back
reblogs and comments are welcomed and loved, so leave some please ! i will respond ! 🤍
MAIN MASTERLIST | BNHA MASTERLIST | TAGLIST
— ☾⋆⁺₊ 👊🏻 📗✧
pretty boy- the prettiest
alright!! let’s start with wash day!!
…nigga did not know shit-
poor baby grew up with inko, bless her straight headed soul, so he had no clue how to probably take care of his hair
all he had was h e a t d a m a g e
“zuku, how do you do your hair?” “huh?” “like what do you do?” “uh well, nothing really, i just wash it, that’s it.” “…” “what? why are you making that face- IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH MY HAIR?!?”
everything…everything is wrong…
aight sis, grab yo detangler, rat-tail comb, hard brush, sulfate-free shampoo, co-wash, conditioner, deep conditioner, protein treatment, all your oils, patience, and strength
and for the love of everything that is great- throw away his 3-in-1 before he give me a fucking heart attack
chile- you couldn’t even see his fucking scalp. his hair was so matted and curled up tightly together that it hurt to look at it
don’t let him go out this house like this no mo, hear me?
but it’s nothing you can’t fix, give the lil boy head some TLC and watch them curls pop!
first wrap that towel around his shoulders, put a pillow on the floor and sit him down in between ya legs and start the marathon of old all might and black people movies you gon’ be there for a while
lil boy would not sit still and he was tender-headed pick a struggle; at this point it was either get popped by you or suffer the pain from his scalp…he chose the latter
mans almost fell asleep while you was shampooing his hair and when you put the hot oil treatment on his scalp- slumber
after everything, you twisted his hair and gave him a bonnet
“uhm...why are you giving me a hat?” you almost slapped the taste outta his damn mouth
after explaining, he put it on; little did he know it was an expect copy to yours, just a different size
“baby, we’re matching!” ”yes, izu, we are. do you wanna take pictures?” you have just made his night.
the pictures were posted all over insta and has them pinned on his account you betta bet mina was all in the damn comment section ; later, he would print them out and put them on his desk so he can look at when he sat down or went to bed
when you took his hair down the next day, he went to the mirror and baby had stars in his eyes
“it looks so cool!” “i’m glad you like it, izu”
he talks about you to all might all the fucking time to the point they both know you better than ya damn self
which is really annoying because all might be wanting them "one on one" talks and it will irk you to talk to him because everything will be "but young midoriya said..."
to be honest, he went to all might for love advice....don’t ever let him do that again. mans was using the most corniest lines but since it was izuku, he got away with- tell me you not cheesing thinking about him saying the "roses are red, violets are blue line" with the cutest blush...im waiting
golden hour, his favorite time of the day
this man will drop everything just to see you at golden hour like when the sun is just starting to set, he will rush into ya dorm room just to watch you
it's like therapy for him to see you relaxing under the setting sun and see your brown skin shining, i just feel like this time would be the time he reminds himself that he is incredibly lucky to have you and will literally do anything to keep you relaxed like this
"zuku babes, what are you looking at?" "nothing~" "whew boy you are so far gone" "hm?" "oh! uh...love you !" "hm, love you too~"
side note: ...if you hear a camera click, don't be surprised
izuku loves affection, giving and receiving
his giving love languages is acts of service and a lil bit of quality time; his receiving love language is physical touch and words of affirmation
so it’s important that you meet in the middle and give him praise, shit works like a charm
go up to him, pat and rub his curls and tell him that he did a good job and one of two things will happen
one: he'll tear up a lot and ask if you're sure or two: he'll blush really fucking hard
as for his giving love, he'll just kinda follow you now until he is told to leave. don’t do that. just don’t.
let him leave on his own, you'll make him feel like he's bothering you otherwise
ask him for cuddles, he’ll drop almost anything he is doing to do so
even if you just drop hints about it, he’ll just smile and just take you somewhere quiet before sitting down or laying down to take a nap with you (nap dates with zuku !)
i think my heart just busted outta my chest i love him so fucking much
if you wanna match his acts of service, when he’s sick or just really busy at hero work studies, take notes for him in class. he will love you forever i promise.
and best believe, that he wants your attention on him at all times
remember them head pats? let’s say you give them to todoroki or tsu for doing some reason
poor thing is definitely sitting in a corner somewhere sulking
he doesn’t want to get upset because that’s his friends and he's glad that you are getting along but he would be lying if he didn't feel a little salty about it
later on, he will ask for some and if you refuse for any reason, he’ll look at you like you just tore out his heart…cause ya did
and GOD FORBID if you give more attention to bakugo instead of him…it is now in God’s hands
he’s throwing you over his shoulder and walking away from bakugo, not before throwing him a glare which later on ensues another fight between them
he only did it because he doesn’t like you getting too close to bakugo, no matter how much he cares about him being his childhood friend
i would like to think there's always that underlying fact that yes, you can handle yourself, but he also knows just how capable bakugou is and lowkey does not want to risk it
please remind him that you do love him and that he is a good boyfriend with all the hugs, cuddles, and all that other good shit
he loves to write about you in his notes, he has AT LEAST 4 notebooks about everything about you as well as somethings he wish to say to you and a little souvenirs from moments between you two that he found special
he has a special item from the time he figured out that he loved you and wrote down in detail what happened and how he felt about it
when you find these notebooks, do not, i repeat, DO NOT tell him that you found. just take the damn notebook while you can and run
give it back and you'll never see it again.
but most definitely tell him about all the things you read and watch him turn bright red
“so, you did get jealous when I gave Sero that hug the other day?” “HUH?!?!? H- H- HOW DID YOU FIND OUT!!?” “*holds up notebook marked ‘Y/n L/n’* Maybe because wrote about it…in detail” *cue the screams of embarrassment and horror*
nah but the amount of times the boy has gone off on a tangent about the little things he loves about you in there will get you flustered-
for drama sake, let’s talk about uraraka
short story: you almost knocked that bitch teeth in
long story: yes, deku used to like her and yes, she almost got him but that did not work out and guess who got him first ! tbh, you started out good friends with uraraka apart from the dekusquad but she never told you about her lil crush until it was too damn late !
and little miss thing was not happy about it; “after all this time…he gets with her!!”
i think you noticed at first her lil sly ass actions and remarks but don’t give in, let her make a fool of herself and watch her run around in circles
be calm and stay two steps ahead, it will work out in your favor ! and it did !
the next person that noticed was tsu, however, she was on your side about this because she hates petty shit and people so what uraraka was doing was not to her liking at all !
the other two, iida and shoto, caught on to it (iida wanting uraraka to at least remain civil and shoto just watching from afar) but deku remained oblivious for a while
he just wanted to be friends with everyone so he kinda just...didn't notice or thought she was mad about something else
i feel like uraraka would get beside herself and start saying reckless ass shit to express her frustration but it would only end up with her getting her ass beat and shunned from the group until she got her act together
you can guess what she said but all imma say is….she really lost her god damn mind and paid the price
what's worse is she really did try to make it seem like you stole from her...but dum dum was the one who didn't speak up? until the very last minute? which...sounds like a personal problem? sssoooooo, stay mad?
everyone in class did figure it out and it was just lowkey sad to see her get so messy but in the end !
izuku loves you very much and would do anything for you
you are his happiness and he’s thinking about spending forever with you
©STRAWHATKIA ━ all rights reserved. all content published on this blog belongs to starsoir. please refrain from copying, stealing, profiting off my works, or using my works for asmr related work. i don’t allow my works to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.
reblogs and comments are welcomed and loved, so leave some please ! i will respond ! 🤍
wanna read more ??
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love you more when the day is new. | f. | multiple characters
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izuku taglist: @cosmiles
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i have had this idea for so long, but i really think you could do this justice. sort of like the film the holiday!!! but not really set in Christmas and more so through the seasons. harry moves out of the city (doesn’t need to be a singer and could just be a CEO) into a small village in a lovely cottage where all of the furniture is mismatched and there’s sash windows which are always open. He’s there for a few months before he starts to feel lonely so decides to bring in a lodger! He hand makes posters and puts them on the village hall board and … he finally gets a taker! It’s a quirky girl who is totally all over the place and she moves in .. the seasons change and so does their relationship.. friends to lovers OR ACTUALLY maybe it could be so interesting for it to be enemies to lovers! That could be fun to write. But idk I’ve been thinking about it for so long !!! They could organise a dinner party for friends one night or maybe Harry goes away to the city for a meeting and that’s where y/n realises how much she misses him / likes him. Definitely has to be fluffy but also needs to have some drama. I haven’t figured that out yet 😭😭😭 I’m so sorry for this really long rambly post but I wanted to give u as much of my brain as possible lol. I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to see what you would do with this / if it’s something you’re even interested in. Have a gorgeous evening / day / morning xxx love you!!💖💖💖💖💖
Bad People
Harry Styles x fem!reader
Summery: Harry and Y/n met by pure luck. Sharing secrets and laughing like little kids, ribs and cheeks hurting. Y/n is sure Harry is destined to be in her life forever. She’s just not sure when that became a bad thing.
FLANGST/FRIENDS TO ENEMIES TO LOVERS
The pale blue sky looked gray from certain windows. The glass was cracked and the stove stained with boiled over soup broth and old sprinklings of spices.
The birds sang solemnly, humming the tune to what I believed sounded like something you’d hear at a funeral. Here, the pavement was cracked and the stars were consistently covered with clouds. Snow, more often than not, fell heavily. From October to April. The nearby ocean nearly always too cold to swim in. The backyard pool cold and clean, still with nobody to inhabit it.
All the beauty ripped from the earth, and replaced with another kind of it. I wouldn’t mind it half as much, if I had someone to enjoy the snow with. To enjoy the polar plunges, the visible breath and numb fingers.
Like old times sake, snowmen and snowball fights. Sledding or fort making. Rosy cheeks and icy hair a memory of the past. Cheeks hurting from smiles, not the winter chill.
The laughter of my mother was long gone, and my brother outgrew his desire for a sibling as soon as he turned sixteen. Few friends, not any at least, that would enjoy the activities the white powder offered.
So now, I look out the window, nursing a glass of wine propped up on the windowsill. I don’t see the snow day ahead or pray for a white Christmas. I pray that one day, I’ll find someone to enjoy it with me. To soothe the pain little eight year old me suffered with the absence of her father, her distant mother and her selfish brother.
“Looking at it won’t make it fall any faster, Y/n.” The puff of air coming from my nose fogs up to cool glass, and my fingers leave prints along the center.
He’s not looking at me, he rarely does when we aren’t fighting. It’s like I disgust him. I feel like a fool every god damn time.
“Have you always naturally been an asshole or did you grow into it?” I don’t look at him, but I feel his gaze settle on my reflection in the glass. His voice alone urges me to take a large drink from the wine glass. The ruby red staining my top lip. I spread it around and taste the bitterness of it on my tongue.
He begins to leave, almost succeeding without a passing glance, but biting his tongue is something Harry nor I have ever been able to do. So it’s natural how he goes for the last word.
“Theres only so much wine, Y/n.” He teases. I down the rest while he walks away. The sigh that leaves my mouth after I feel the ghost of him leaving me isn’t only for air, but because suddenly the room feels lighter.
It’s funny, how someone so special can leave such a disgusting taste in your mouth. Hatred doesn’t just happen. It creeps, seeps, saturates. It’s a pesky little thing that starts small until finally you can’t ignore how bothered you are. It’s vile and cruel. A poisonous little thing that no one is immune to. It’s a sad yet funny thing. To remember that it wasn’t always like this. I didn’t always hate my old friend, bounded to me through the home we share. I once enjoyed the company of Harry styles.
It was nearly a year since I’d moved in. A year since the slow turned to thick ice and roads became bare with people too afraid to try and navigate through the harsh winter.
Nearly a year since I first saw the house at the end of the road, with a neat front lawn and a tree with hanging branches ready to snap.
A red scarf and red mittens is what I wore. With a faded brown coat and worn blue jeans. A hat on top of my head and a journal tucked underneath my arm. He had the greenest eyes I had ever seen. The stars in the night sky didn’t quite shine as bright as his eyes, I swore it to myself.
He had an english accent, one that I wasn’t familiar with. Peach fuzz and dark chocolate curls a mess on his head. When I told him my job, he laughed, but something about his shocked expression after told me he didn’t mean it cruelly. Rather, that he was shocked, or just piecing the puzzle together.
“I’m my mother’s daughter.” I told him, “She always had a thing for poetry. The sappy ones with the tragic endings. I got it from her and I’m damn good at it.” I smiled at him then, and he smiled back bigger.
“It’s just funny. Moving somewhere so quiet for a job all about fantasy and adventure.” He explained, already guiding the two of us through the wide doorway. I set my boots in the old entryway which it seemed he had turned into a mud room. I admired the shade of green on the wall and nodded along. My cheeks hurt from smiling.
That night, while settling into my new space, I shared with him my life. My goals and dreams. With his toothy smile and boyish eyes, he made it so easy to trust him. I sat on my newly made bed and he sat in my spinning chair by my desk. Moving it back and forth, swaying slowly. A cigarette started dangling from his pocket, I still remember the way he took it between his thumb and his index finger. Rolling it around, debating whether or not to light it. It was like he didn’t know he had it.
“I didn’t take you for a smoker.” I laughed at him, he laughed back. Shy almost, only looking at me for a moment.
“M’not. A few here and there. Helps to wind down.” When he ran his hand through his hair, I remember seeing all his rings. A rose and two with his initials. One looked like a lion. That one was my favorite.
Other than his charming smile and infectious laughter, I knew nothing of him, I had come to realize. Here he was, knowing about my family and friends. My job and my hobbies. All I had asked him was his name.
When I asked him, he was just as talkative as I was. A sparkle in his eyes when he talked about his job. I remember specifically, how they lit up extra bright when he mentioned his mother, Anne, and his older sister, Gemma. I learned about his job too. Harry had everything he could ever truly want. The money, the power, the glory. His office at the top floor overlooking the bustling city that never sleeps. Families dancing around the square and traffic backed up into the city line.
The sad thing was, that even with all this pride he got to carry with his reputation, the city was no home to him. The summer held no comfort. Not the same now that he was long out of school. The heat was simply uncomfortable. His lavish suit sticking to his skin. Even the air conditioner couldn’t soothe the pounding of his head against the strong New York heat.
His nose stung in the summer. The warmer it got, the worse it smelled. Garbage littering the streets no longer covered by thick snow. Tourists and their children filling up all his favorite places of relaxation. Each carrying their own scent from home. The calming pine from the North or the tangy citrus of the west coast.
Harry felt no true love for his home anymore. No real attachment. There was no smell of home, and there certainly wasn’t any old faces with their gravelly voices and thick accents. If it weren’t for the business there, he would’ve fled somewhere else long ago. Somewhere quieter. Somewhere that felt like home. If he could, he would have tucked himself back into the small home his mother raised him and his sister in. He would’ve curled up happily in his twin bed and looked out the same crooked window each night and feel happy with only that.
He tells me that when he got in the car waiting for him at the airport, he was tempted to tell the driver to take him home, to see if it would make him smile. He’d seen the gag used in all the old rom-coms he and his mother used to watch. The short blonde running from the love of her life only to be led back into his arms. But Harry know’s better. He tells me so. So when the driver asks him where to, he tells him the address.
He told me about his work life. How there was a branch out in the UK. The one that started it all. And as his success grew, so did his aspirations and his needs. London no longer provided him with the luxury and opportunity that New York could. So he swapped out his office for a penthouse and acted like the smell of burning garbage and mysterious wet spots on the sidewalks didn’t bother him.
It’s a vicious cycle. To outgrow, to long for, to move, to hate all over again. Thats how he decided that London has just what he needed. His business within reach and smaller towns surrounding its borders.
“And what about now? Are you happy?” Harry crinkled his eyes then, smiling a nodding along. He didn’t even mind it then, when I would interrupt. In fact, he welcomed it. Claimed he loved hearing me talk.
I agreed with him when he said that the grass is greener down here. The stars are just that much brighter and theres not a single car honking their horn past nine. All things that left him feeling a whole lot calmer than the chaos of the city.
Here, Harry told me he didn’t mind not living in a lavish penthouse just a few blocks away from his work. Here, he was hours away from the city. He stays in a medium sized cape cod styled house, pre-decorated from the past owners who didn’t care to take their things when they left for something bigger. It sticks out from the rest of the homes nearby. He wonders how something so different ended up within the same area. And he smiled and sat on the floor when I laughed and told him he’d already lived quite the life for a nearly-thirty year old man.
When silence took over after over an hour long conversation, I bit at my nails and looked at the floor. Suddenly, it came to me.
“Harry?” I had asked. He hummed, looking at me. Even if I hadn’t looked back, I could still feel his eyes on mine. “What made you want a roommate?” When my eyes flickered up to his, I saw no hate, or disgust, or shame. Nothing that I am familiar with now in Harry’s eyes. I saw curiosity, warmth and happiness.
“I like the quiet. I like being able to sleep without someone yelling down the hallway. I like how green it is over here.” I nodded, waiting for him to continue. “But the quiet get’s lonely. And while I like the quiet, I hate being alone.” And it made me smile back then. Maybe it still does thinking about it know. He had been helping me in finding a home, some place warm to stay. Meanwhile, I had been able to give back. Give him what he wanted. At the time, my heart warmed.
For a long time after that, Harry made my heart beat fiercely. He brought me flowers and made us pancakes. Freshly picked blueberries from the local market. He cracked jokes and I repeated them back between our broken laughter, imitating his english accent.
He was a charming man, with an energy that invited and kept you drawn to him. Everyone wanted to be around Harry. The men and the women. Always wanting a piece of the pie. I felt rich in life, that while others had to work for a lifelong friendship with him, naturally, we fit together. We worked.
He entered my life by some kind of coincidence. I needed a place to stay and he was offering a room up.
When he brushed his thumb over my knuckles and kissed the skin, I believed we would be like this forever. Just the two of us.
When he whispered to me that he loved me that same night, I thought it was something he would never take back. Something that would never change. His warm breath and glistening eyes. He was red and shiny. A bottle of the cheap champagne sat on the table and an empty glass beside him. I let his lips trail around my hand and laugh at his antics.
“Harry.” I mumbled into the darkness, he doesn’t move. I silently giggle again after he puffs air out of his own nose onto my hand playfully. His shoulders shake with his own fits of laughter, “Harry.” I call out again, and my eyes are met with his dazzling emerald ones. I almost got lost, forgot how to talk looking at him.
My palms were sweaty with nervousness then. My heart beating out of my chest. I wanted more than anything to tell him everything. As a poet, it should have been easy to put my thoughts out in the open air. But they hadn’t sat within me for long enough to curate a straight forward answer.
How would I even manage to start on how beautiful I thought his brown hair was? Perfectly colored like milk chocolate treats that curled over his forehead. Or his toothy grin which pulled butterflies from the pit of my stomach and made me feel lighter? I couldn’t find just one thing to focus on. And the words that came out of my mouth tumbled out quickly.
“You’re my best friend.” I hoped that he would’ve been able to see how much love I held for him in my face. How even in the dim lighting of only the fireplace and the fading lamp in the corner, he could see how they sparkled just for him.
He pulled his hand away after that, clearing his throat and nodding. But he smiled so softly after that I didn’t see how his eyes welled up with tears. I only saw his perfectly pink lips and his rosy cheeks. For once, I wasn’t focused on his eyes, and I paid the price.
He never made pancakes for us after that night. Nor did he ever pick flowers from the fields or crack jokes until our stomachs hurt. My hand was never slotted between his and my head didn’t rest on top of his shoulders. His was colder, more distant. Quiet.
But the quiet grew old for us both. And the slipping away hurt more than anything I’d ever experienced. I was everyone else in his life. Fighting for a spot in the light so he would see me, smile at me, acknowledge me.
Part of me wondered why he never asked me to leave. To pack my bags and find another innocent man to love because he wouldn’t tolerate it anymore. But he never did. Harry hated being alone and I knew better than anyone else. I knew it because I was his best friend at some point. We shared the same breaths and drank from the same glasses. I wore his shirts and he used my hair clips. He kept me around not because he still wanted me, but because he still needed me. And the realization of it all hurts worse than the silence because it’s then I know that I’ve really lost him. It leaves me with the question, ‘What have I done to deserve this?’
I think back on that night when our world shifted on its axis and I go over every word that was said. I check for any signs of discomfort or anger and I find nothing. It plagues me with a new insecurity.
Maybe it wasn’t something I’d said, maybe it wasn’t something I’d done. Maybe the warmth from the champagne grew cold in his blood and the false euphoria from it all cleared from his peripheral vision and he realized that I was no longer enough. I was not what he wanted. The idea of his roommate becoming his only friend too pathetic for a man with such power.
Soon after, I stop putting up a fight. I stop fighting for a spot in his life and I stop trying to win back a man that was never mine. I figured at least if he could never be mine and I would never be his, at least I still got to see his pretty face everyday. And I could imagine that we never drifted.
I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost. The tears running down my cheeks are hot, burning my skin until my throat dully aches and my chest is red with flakes of nail polish and the dragging of my nails clawing at my chest.
I am sobbing, broken and tired. I dream of a life that is not as miserable. I dream of a life where I no longer doubt the things I love. Where I don’t have to question my friend’s loyalty.
He knocks on my door, leaning against it in only his flannel pants. He has tattoos that compliment his skin so well. He looks like a painting. I’m relieved to see him again. Even if it’s under these circumstances.
I wait for him to speak, even if it’s merely a mumble. Even if I cannot understand.
“Can you stop crying? I can’t sleep.” He requests. My lips part and I swear my lungs collapse within my chest. I can’t breathe and somehow I remain composed.
“Okay.” I say quietly, nodding along and trying to find his eyes. They look at the floor, and his face is contorted like it pained him to say that to me. Like it was against his will. But he doesn’t even look at me.
When he leaves, I collapse, shoulder shaking with rage, sadness, confusion instead of the contagious laughter that once rang out through the halls.
I decide then, July moon shining through the sash windows of my room that I couldn’t continue holding onto Harry. My heart still beats for him and my eyes still sparkled when his own lingered for just a moment longer on me, but I couldn’t like him.
Hatred doesn’t just happen. It creeps, seeps, saturates. It’s a pesky little thing that starts small until finally you can’t ignore how bothered you are. It’s vile and cruel. A poisonous little thing that no one is immune to. It’s a sad yet funny thing.
After that night, his selfish wishes turn to bitter comments which turn to vicious attacks at my confidence. And my resilience and devotion to silence, to ignore the cruelty of it all is worn thin. My bitten tongue is freed and I am betrayed by my own words. My own comments targeted at his deepest hurts. It’s a mutual hate between us, a mutual dislike.
We live within the same four walls, the same windows and creaky roof over our heads. We cook in the same kitchen and we sit on the same couch, but we cannot stand each other anymore. The house is no longer filled with love, and the warm heat turns to bitter cold. And yet, neither of us have the guts to leave.
We sit here, in a life thats so mean to us just because we are afraid of the loneliness that is surely to come with the other’s absence.
We are here, but we aren’t present. It makes me laugh, it makes me wonder.
Who could ever leave me? But who could stay?
The candles burned down to the floor, wax melting over the wood as the lights set a warm, homely mood for the night. The late December rush throughout the town turned to the few and far between searching for last minute supplies to ring in the new year. It’s peacefully still outside, and the dining room looks so nice I forget why the candles burn and our nicest plates are set out.
Harry insisted on having a small gathering with some of our friends to celebrate the new year before he went away for sometime for work. Being roommates, despite our lack of interest in establishing our own friendship, his friends become my friends and mine become his. It’s a fairly large group that was once two. But have now become so closely intertwined that it seems hard to differentiate who was friends with who first.
There was wine, pastas and breads. Hams and potatoes. Drinks and endless desserts. It felt nice, to have all those people we cared so deeply about chip in and help to create such a lovely meal for the few of us.
Hearing that first doorbell ring to see all of our friends stood proudly on our crooked doorstep made my heart flutter. Sarah, Mitch, Pauli, Elin, Charlotte, Nyoh. All holding various foods to add to the never ending supply on the multiple tables set in a row.
“Harry! Y/n!” The enthusiasm from our friends seemed to lighten the mood, letting the heavy feeling of heated arguments and constant anger slip down my back and into the farthest part of my brain.
It was times like these where I’d forget how to hate. How to spread anger and disgust to someone who clearly showed none of it in return in these times. Here, Harry was talkative. Always plastering on a fake smile and wave.
He was good at pretending. And while the walls of the house had seen a different story, those around us were innocent, forever unknowing of how Harry constantly belittled me, bothered me. Of how I was no better. How my tongue was sharp and my words shot to kill.
Nobody minded the difference in height of the dinning room table against the kitchen table. How one was round and the other a rectangle. Both covered by one long table cloth. Nobody minded the soft music in the background or how the light wasn’t the brightest. The soft flickers never mentioned.
We let the candles burn until they had nothing left to give, and we ate until it was bare and our stomachs hurt. Here, I never felt like I was trapped. Here, I remembered by I came to live with Harry in the first place. And I was thankful. It was times like these I couldn’t help smiling like an idiot. Cheeks sore and eyes crinkling. I would laugh at just about anything, trust anyone and agree with everything.
“When are you going to tell him?” An elbow to the ribs pulled my gaze from the end of the table, my smile dropping for only a moment at the sudden shock.
“Sorry?” I mumbled softly into Sarah’s ear. Her eyes glimmered with something mischievous, like she knew something that I didn’t. She licked her pink lips and looked briefly back to the end of the table. All the way over by the dining table, sat a few feet away and a couple inches higher, was Harry. Laughing and talking with Pauli and Elin about anything and everything. I couldn’t quite make it out over the soft chatter of Mitch and Charlotte and the clinking of forks on plates.
“Harry!” She called softly. When my eyebrows furrowed she rolled her eyes, sighing heavily.
“I don’t get it.” Forking another bite of vegetables into my mouth, I watched her fight for the right words to say. Her lips finally settling on the soft smile I knew very well.
“Don’t play dumb, Y/n. I know that look. Better than anyone. Thats how I look at Mitch.” She playfully nudged my shoulder. Did she believe that I held any romantic feelings for Harry? I couldn’t, it was impossible. Right?
His rude remarks and his mean demeanor. Sure, at one point my heart beat for the brunette with an infectious smile and shiny green eyes, but now it was a memory of the past. Another pretty face who had thrown away all of his charm and care and exchanged with unwavering cruelty.
“Oh, no. Sarah, I don’t think about him that way.” I tried to wave her off, trying to sound the least amount disgusted by her assumption. I couldn’t help but wonder why she thought that.
“I don’t believe you.” She sounded smug, crossing her hands on my thigh and giggling. “You don’t have to. I believe myself.” Brushing her off, I take another bite of any remaining scraps on my plate. Trying to avoid conversation.
“Come on, you seriously don’t see it?” She sounded exasperated now, even more so when I nodded carelessly. She was getting tired of my avoidance to the conversation, my disinterest in her false discovery. Still, the longer she pushed, the more I felt the heat rush to my face. The more my cheeks burned and my skin tingled.
“I’m serious, Sarah. I don’t look at him in anyway. He’s just my roommate. Nothing more, nothing less.” I lean back, volume brought down to a mere whisper with the dying laugher at the other end of the table.
“Well, he’s your friend at least, right?” The lump in my throat was unswallowable. With the growing tightness in my throat and the clamminess of my palms. I wanted nothing more than to slip away and pretend this never happened. So, I bite my tongue and nod, eyes flickering to Sarah while I do so. I pray that she doesn’t see the tears welling in the corners and how glossy they’ve gotten in such a short period of time.
“Yeah, he’s my best friend.” The lie stings, burning as it comes out. Partially because I hate lying to my dear Sarah, but mainly because at some point it was the truth.
Harry was my everything at one point in my life. He might as well have hung the damn moon and stars. I thought the world of him, wanted nothing more than to feel his arms wrapped around mine all the damn time. And it killed me that we’d gotten so far away from that idea that I had to lie about even being acquainted with him.
“Word of advice.” She started, eyeing Harry carefully. My eyes remained glued to the table, fork wobbling between my pointer finger and my thumb. “Best friends don’t look at each other that way.” And when she finished what she wanted to say, I swear my heart just about stopped. All color draining from my face and my eyes rapidly blinking away the tears by now.
Setting my fork down, I ignore her playful smile and the nudge of her shoulder into mine. I look for another face to converse with, to make me begin to forget everything I was trying so desperately to escape. When I search the table, it seems like each person has found themselves in deep conversation with the other. All but one.
And his green eyes capture mine in a way I haven’t known in so long. I’d forgotten what it was like to be the center of his gaze. How thrilling it was. With my eyes, glossed over and heart beating through my chest, it seemed impossible for me to ever consider looking away. His chocolate brown curls and sweet pink lips in a gentle smile. It was consuming and alluring. Irresistible even.
A face that once disgusted me, shattered my heart, angered me and knocked me down with no air left to breathe seemed not all that frightening anymore. And the warmth that spread in my chest scared me more than anything.
I begin to realize, maybe Sarah was right. Maybe that was why I hated him so much. I didn’t hate Harry Styles. And thats why it hurt just that much more. I didn’t hate him at all, in fact. No, rather my poor heart couldn’t handle the heartbreak and deflected in the most malicious way possible. I missed my best friend.
“Y/n.” Sarahs voice pulls me from my haze, and my eyes are flickering over to hers quickly. Lips still parted and eyes still wide.
“You’re crying.” I hadn’t felt the salty heat dripping down my cheeks until she announced it. My skin too numb from embarrassment to even understand what was happening.
My tongue is tied, and my throat is killing me. I feel like I might vomit if I stay here any longer. I can’t be here any longer, I can’t do it. Not when I’ve just realized what I did. I feel what I felt all those months ago when Harry told me to stop crying. When he shut me out for good and became bitter. I feel all air leave my lungs and my knees wobbling. I am going to collapse.
“I just need air.” I say all too loudly, pushing out the chair clumsily and stepping back. The loud scratch of the wooden legs of the wooden floors turns heads and my heavy breathing tells me to get the hell out.
I pardon myself after that, waving off any concern from Sarah, and making sure nobody else saw my escape. Everyone’s still deep into conversation when I turn the corner. All but Sarah and Harry. But neither of them make a move to reach me. I let myself collapse on my bed, mascara running down my white sheets and back aching from how stiff I became at that table. I silently pray that I’ll sleep through the rest of winter.
When the dinner got cold and we’d all run out of things to say, we all look around and silently agree to part ways. It was nice to have some company, I enjoyed being around these people so much. My heart should have been full, yet it felt heavy and empty all at the same time. Littered with a guilt I wasn’t even sure was mine.
I’d seen the way she looked at me. Really looked at me. Glossed over eyes and a quivering lip. She was red with the rush of adrenaline in her blood. Anyone could see how quickly she began to breathe. It was like she was stuck, consumed by something so strong that it left her powerless, weak, crumbling quickly under an undetermined pressure. She started to cry, biting back a sob by biting harshly into her bottom lip, eyes shaking while she searched my face. I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. Who had said what, and how I could help her.
I wanted to yell at whoever hurt her this bad. And the feeling of that in itself was unsettling. How my heart still longed to comfort, protect the heart of the girl who once shattered my own with her own words. More than that, I wanted to scream when nobody followed her when she ran. How nobody cared nearly enough about why she was so upset.
I couldn’t understand why I was so invested in her. Someone I was sworn to hate. Someone I had teased and fought for months and let hurt me constantly in retaliation.
But then again, we were no better than one another. We never were. Always saying too little and not opening up quite enough. Creating issues instead of solving problems. We were explosive, nobody could hurt me quite like she could and yet, I felt horrible that she was so upset.
Like the day I’d found her pacing restlessly across the floor. Skin blotchy and eyes puffy with tears. Throat sore with the violent sobs ripping through them. I’d wanted to hold her then too, but I was too bitter to do anything but tell her to quiet down. I felt the same guilt in my bones. And I make the same mistakes I made the first time. I watch her break down and sit with the uneasiness of it all.
Mitch lays a hand over my shoulder, his other arm wrapped around Sarah as he leads her through the door. His eyes look sad and tired. But his smile is genuine and filled with concern.
“Check on Y/n for us okay? Sarah thought it would be best to leave her be for now.” His hand left my shoulder and the door shut quickly after. Leaving me with the unbearable silence and loneliness I felt so frequently nowadays. It breaks down my walls and scares the shit out of me.
Maybe thats why I make my way to the kitchen, shuffling slowly along the floors and leaning slowly over the makeshift tables. A bottle of rouge in one hand, a pack of cigarettes in the other. I stuff them in my pocket and hold the bottle close to my side.
I’m slow, delaying the inevitable question. When I knock on the door, it’s quiet. Almost like I’m hoping that if it’s soft enough, she won’t hear and I can pretend she was ignoring me. But, she does hear me, and she calls out a raspy, muffled welcome, signaling for whoever was hidden behind the door to come through and take in her puffy eyes and wet cheeks.
My throat tightens when I smell her perfume. Something that I would have drowned in not so long ago. She has clothes thrown on a chair in the corner, the same one I sat in so many months ago. I’m tempted to push them off and just sit in the silence with her like we once enjoyed doing.
Her head is in her pillow and her arms are underneath her. She is unaware of who she has let in, but her silence and unmoving body tells me she’s lost all ability to care. I want to leave. I want to turn around and convince myself it was all a mistake. I’d checked on her and she was still alive and well. I’d done my part and I could go on guilt free and forget about how crushed she’d looked just hours before.
When I begin to turn on my heels and pray for this day to be over, I see something unforgettable. A small Polaroid from last year. Just weeks after she’d moved in and charmed me with her beauty and whit. She’s sat with her legs over my lap and my arms around her body. We couldn’t be any happier, and the memory makes my chest sting.
She still cared enough to keep up the old memories of us, even after all the fights and mean glares. Why did she have to keep the damn photo up?
Guilt consumes me once again, and I am faced with the sad woman in front of me, still in the same place as before and just as sad as before. My feet betray my mind, and soon I am stood beside her bedside table with a bottle of wine dangling between my pointer finger and my middle finger.
The glass knocks against her shoulder in a silent invitation. My eyes wordlessly asking her to follow. Her eyes are red, and her lips still shake. She looks completely torn apart, desperate and distraught. Disheveled even. But for some reason in my blurry head, all I can think about is how absolutely beautiful she is in the pale moonlight.
“Come on.” I ask her softly, offering her my hand. When she takes it, she’s nodding already. Trusting a man who deserves no second chances, no trust whatsoever for his cruelty and his inability to communicate. But she follows regardless.
I can’t help but realize how having her so close feels good.
He lights the cigarette for me and watches as I let it burn. My lips twitch as they wrap around the end, tasting the bitterness of its contents and the dry paper.
“How did we end up here?” I ask him, looking over the horizon. The waves are calming over here. They almost silence the ringing in my ears, despite the distance between where we sit, feet dangling over the empty pool edge and the large grass behind it.
He shrugs, snagging the cigarette from my hand delicately and taking a long drag from its end. We swap, my hands wrap around the neck of the wine bottle. It’s tinted green and nearly full.
“Unlucky people, I guess.” He looks at his feet. They dangle in the pool beside mine. You can see just how close we are in the turquoise tint. How the lights make us look less vibrant.
“I wouldn’t consider us unlucky.” I look at the sky, and I can feel his eyes on my face. It makes me swallow, how intense his gaze is. It almost makes it feel that much more real.
“Why’s that?” He asks, twisting the bud out on the cement. It stains the freshly cleaned grey stone an ashy black, but I bite my tongue.
“We had each other. Maybe we aren’t the best people, maybe we’re cruel, but I’d rather argue than live in solitude, right? Company can’t be bought. Even the most painful of it. That’s something real. Something without a price. And we’ve got it.” And it’s true. We fight and we throw shit. We stain the walls and rip the curtains. We start fires and try to blame the other. We make a mess and make amends. But a house isn’t a home without someone to share it with. And at least if we had to suffer to get there, we got it.
“Thats some of your poet shit.” He laughs sadly into the silence, looking at his feet. I laugh along, though I can tell he was only half joking. Then, I let the silence wash back over us. Forgetting how we almost had a full conversation.
“I’m not a bad person. I don’t know why I’m so mean.” He says sincerely. It’s sudden too. I can tell from the rawness in his voice. How his eyes tear up and his lips quiver. His voice cracks. Our feet hang off the edge of the backyard. It’s a quiet life. Even now. With our fights and all the fraud. But it’s never a lonely life, and we only have each other to thank for it.
I want to tell him I know, and I’m so sure of it. I’ve seen the real him, we might just not mesh together. But we once had, and that fact alone holds me back. He takes the lack of response and an opportunity to excuse himself. Pulling his body up by the arms and grunting through the sliding back door. I sit alone in the backyard for hours, body curling up into itself and layers of clothing becoming less than enough after some more time.
“I know.” I whisper into the silence. I know he’s not a bad person, I know it so well and I am so certain of it. I knew Harry once. He’s loyal and kind and the smartest man I’d ever met. And I miss knowing him like that so much.
I thought for a second tonight, I’d gotten part of him back. And maybe I had, but he left so soon I couldn’t really tell all that well. He’s left me back in the silence, wondering what happened to us, and what will happen to us. Why he came to get me, and why he even bothered to open up to me. But he never gives me the time to properly ask, even if I planned to.
I ring in the New Year alone.
The next morning he’s gone. Back to New York for his business in the big city and I am left to sit and think about what was said. A half empty bottle of wine stained with my red lipstick and glitter on the floor from old party poppers Charlotte and Elin had made sure to use before making their exit. I repeat his words.
He’s not a bad person, so why is he so mean? It’s best left unknown. Because if theres one thing I fear more than anything, it’s the realization of rejection.
Even from a man I hate so entirely, it consumes me. That I could not stand to be faced with the fact that Harry and I do not get along simply because we do not work and not because of some other underlying reason.
After all, we had it all. Gave each other everything the other had wanted. Food, shelter, company. There was really so explanation for the bitterness between us.
After all, all this time, despite his anger and hatred, he never left me to the wolves. And despite my heartbreak and sadness, I never left him with an empty home.
A wise man once said to never bite the hand that feeds it. Yet, here we are. Ripping skin from bone until we are left with nothing. We are the ungrateful, the selfish, the cruel. And we both believe that we are in the right.
I am so scared of rejection from this man who I claim to hate because he is the hand that feeds me and I am the hand to him.
We aren’t bad people, so why are we so mean? We recognize all we have to be grateful for, so why do we bite the hand that feeds us?
I guess the vulnerability of it all must have scared us. And while facing the storm, we did what all people do. We let fear consume us and we bite.
Somehow, through all of this. The realizations and the tears and wine and dusty ashes, I love him. Even with my teeth sinking into his skin and his own in mine, drawing blood, I love him. I love Harry Styles. He is my best friend and I am his. That is why I am scared and that is why it hurts so bad. Not because I simply missed him, but rather because my heart was devoted to a man who did not want it.
My fingers fumble over the pad on the phone. I type up his phone number by heart and let it ring. He answers quickly, still waiting for his plane at the airport.
“Y/n?” I can hear the bustling crowds around him and the loud engines taking off from other terminals. I imagine he is plugging one of his ears and mentally cursing the noise for making it so hard to hear.
“Come home.” My breathing is unstable, and my hands run through my hair so much I create new tangles by my neck.
“What? No, Y/n, I have to go. People are expecting me.” He starts to explain how important this is for his business. How it would be so much simpler to be there rather than over a computer screen.
“Fuck them, who cares! Harry, I need you, and I want you, please just listen to me for once. Don’t scoff, or…or roll your eyes or leave! Listen to me this once and if it’s not worth it to you, I promise you’ll never have to listen to me again. Please, it’s important.” I ramble, endless pleas met with silence. I can feel the rejection coming, I can hear the way he chokes on a breath, debating what I said.
“Okay.” The phone goes dead with his promise to come home. With the continuous beeps, I slowly come to terms with what I’d just done. But I do not feel panicked, or scared. I feel lighter with the fact that I am about to tell the moody boy something I wished I told him a long time ago.
The door opens with a creak, keys jingling in his large palms. I’d spent the morning pacing the kitchen. Leaving a trail of confetti behind in my wake. I hadn’t cared enough to clean with my endless thoughts and extreme amounts of adrenaline.
“Y/n?” His voice was unsure when it rang out. As if he didn’t know what to expect. The door shut behind him not long before I came rushing around the corner, fingernails bitten to the skin and hangnails bleeding profusely.
“God, Y/n what the hell…” Taking my hands into his, he examined the redness of my irritated skin stained further with dry blood.
“I know.” I looked at him, and he looked back at me like I was crazy.
“What?” His thumbs bent over the backs of my palms, holding me in front of him.
“I know.” I breathed out again, looking at him with such sincerity, praying for him to understand. “You’re not a bad person, and I know it because I know you. Because we fight and we tease and we scream and cry. But I know you because once we didn’t do all of that. And I needed you to know that because it wasn’t fair of me to make you believe that to be true after everything you’ve done for me.” My voice shook with how vulnerable I felt myself becoming. Harry’s hands only tightened the further I explained.
“But what about all I’ve done to you. Y/n, I’ve been awful to you and I never even told you why.” He tried to argue. I shook my head, biting my lips.
“I haven’t been much better.” I smiled sadly. He shook his head back.
“No.”
“Yes.” I blinked hard, pushing back the tears that formed watching his own gather by his waterline.
“No, Y/n, I’ve been horrible. I’ve been mean.” He tried to push away everything I was trying to ignore.
“And so have I.” I tried harder to make him understand.
“But you only did it because I had. And for what?” He finally spoke, voice raised with so much desperation behind it, I froze under his touch.
“Because I loved you so much it drove me fucking insane? Because I still love you and I’m afraid if I can’t get you to hate me I’ll never be able to stop.” He was crying now, pleading with me to make me see his side of things. All I could do was shake my head.
“Harry I could never hate you.”
“But you could never love me.” He argued.
“Thats not true, Harry tell me you know that it couldn’t be true.” I rip my hands from his grip to rest them on his cheeks. I try to wipe away his tears, but his hands cover my wrists and pull them back down.
“How could I? You said it yourself. All those months ago, I told you. I held you close and I told you I loved you. You told me I was your best friend. You couldn’t even pretend!” Neither of us could tell if he was angry or just sad. Maybe both, but no amount of denial would calm him down.
“I didn’t have to, I still don’t have to pretend! Harry, I only said that because I was so fucking scared. Scared of us, of me, of you. Of losing you if it didn’t work. And I lost you anyways, I would’ve just said it if I knew I’d lose you like this.” Our chests bumped and his fingers slipped between mine.
“Y/n.” He whispered into the silence, over our heavy breathing and salty tears.
“I love you, and I miss you.” He didn’t say anything. I could feel him slipping away as soon as his response never came. Not a single word left to say between us. Not a single amount of energy left to fight.
And then he was kissing me. Hard and sweet. Like I was everything he’d ever wanted and more. Like he was hungry, needing more and more of something he had always wanted but could never have. And at the same time, it was soft and tender. Like he never wanted it to end. My back arched within the grip of his wandering hands and my fingers tangling in his curls. I swore I would never let him go.
But it was a swear I couldn’t keep, because air dwindled quickly and spit strung between our lips. Something I would usually gag at, but didn’t mind at the moment. His forehead against mine and arms gripping the fabric by my hips so tight if I moved he could have ripped it.
“I’m sorry.” He apologized in between his heaving breaths.
“Me too.” Looking at him, I could see the red staining his lips from the makeup I’d slept in. It made me laugh, which in result made him smile.
“What? What!” He laughed along cluelessly, letting me back away for a moment.
“You have something-“ I pointed again his mouth and smiled.
“Oh do I? Do I?” He kissed my cheek, smearing the remnants of our kiss across my cheek. “Still there?” He asked with a sly grin. Like he knew he was winning.
So I kissed him hard again, smearing red around his skin and his pink lips with so much love, there was no denying my feelings anymore. There was no hate left to give.
“Yeah, you do.” It was yet another fight, but not one I minded.
After all, thats what we did for so long, it was what we were good at. The teasing and the fighting. Only now it wasn’t bitter, it was playful. And we didn’t coexist with the sole purpose of it.
Because now I was his and he was mine. And this knowledge answered all my questions, all my doubts I’d had before about our relationship and our shared insecurities that led us down this scaring path.
Harry was my best friend, and I was his. And there was no love greater than that.
#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles imagine#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry x reader#fine line harry styles#harry styles#yn x harrystyles#yn x harry
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MILGRAM Best Song Tournament, Round 1, Match 4 HALF vs. MAGIC
Propaganda for both options under the cut!
Propaganda for HALF:
kazui may just be an old gay man but HE CAN SING.
its. literally stunning.
like aside from his character and everything else, half is just really really beautifully written
THE INSTRUMENTALS.
HIS V O I C E??? its so pretty
heartbreaking lyrics. i dont love kazui as a character but i have bawled to half
GAY RIGHTS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Love amane but she will undoubtedly win when her purge march poll rolls around, so lets let the old man have a win shall we?
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half propaganda let's goooo sorry i'm sobern't in true kazui style so this probably won't make a bit of sense
theatre kid man. i love him, incredible mv.
this song is pure ASMR to me
visually aligned with Cat and it's so lovely to see that continuity
the GRAINY MOVIE DOTS THING ON THE MV <3
kazui is so dramatic. i love him i love him
dapper gentleman. such clothes
the key change is so well done
AND THE . THE PART WITH THE. THE ENDING SORT OF LYRICS OVERLAID WITH SPEAKING. and then his quieter singing and, and, and o h my god. im sorry. im not very coherent abt this rn
every part of the song is amazing but once it gets to the key change and after it keeps stepping up the amount of being perfect
kazui is in it
um
kazui is in it
go my psionic warriors vote for everyone's favourite failhusband
no children were tortured in the making of this MV (cough looking at You magic)
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Allow me to present my Half propaganda!
- The slower tempo adds a very relaxing feeling to the song. Kinda ironic, but I like it! It sort of reminds of old indie songs from 2012 (especially with what I think is whistling added in the instrumental in-between chorus and verses.)
- Kazui’s voice. Enough said.
- It’s very easy to listen to, and I find it’s one of the only songs from Milgram that I like to listen to out of context (besides After Pain, Backdraft, and Purge March, oddly enough.)
- The MV is rife with imagery, and is used to beautiful effect. It really makes you feel for Kazui and his situation.
- The scene with him and Hinako before the key change… that makes me so emo.
- The overlapping part at the end… the lyrics combined with the dialogue in the background makes me really sad in a way I can’t explain.
Propaganda for MAGIC:
MAGIC MY BELOVED MAGIC!!! Its one of the best MVs in the entire series, even including T2. Magic is visually stunning and has some fantastic art direction but also is very clever in how it conveys its themes and ideas. Magic doesn't really hide anything from you, not really. It's all symbolic but it Tells You Things. It shows you the abuse, it shows you the cat. There's a fun little relationship going on here where, In Magic. Amane's pain and suffering isn't taken seriously by the people around her and the Audience we are discouraged to take it at face value due to the fictionalized nature of Magic. It's so cool. I'm so fond of the song as well, it's one of the best in the series purely cause of the Layers in it. The implications of this Inability to be good is seeped into Magic. Amane knows this isn't reality, Magic knows it's a show, she watches it at the end. And it's so Sad to me that even in her fictionalized happy world she Cannot be a good girl. It's a standard completely out of reach for her and that idea is just conveyed so well visually.
Im not even talking about the goddamn cat yet- the cat symbolism goes Deep. That cat is HER it has the same wounds Amane has in Purge March. I- I cant talk about the intertextuality of Purge March and Magic here this is Magic propaganda only- I- there's so much good stuff to Magic. I Re watched it over and over again. It has some the Best Writing and Visual Communication in Milgram and I will Die on this Hill.
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shoutout to magic for having pretty props AND being vague as fuck about the crime! diversity win!
seriously though amane looks SO cute in it! the mv has such a pretty and colorful style and even with that it's able to show the horrors of what amane went through.
adding onto my last point. that scene where the cat is hyperventilating and you see the camera shaking???? that scene where the mascots find amane helping the cat and they're all standing over her? CHILLS. im repeating myself but the fact that they were able to portray the awful things amane went through in a genuinely emotional way while still keeping the cute cartoon look is soo impressive
there are SO many layers to itill the entire cartoony style making it look like a tv show… utilizing the cartoony effects and bright colors to show amane downplaying her own pain… the transformation after she gets punished barely changing anything to show just how manipulated she was from the start… ueueueue
ALSO ALSO ALSO THE SCENE AT THE END WITH AMANE STARING AT THE SCENE? OHHH ITS SO GOOD it adds such a feeling of dread and reminds you on top of this whole thing that all of this is truly horrifying! something is going on here!
this song is so catchy it gets stuck in my head CONSTANTLY
"Dear wise one, Am I worthy? Is it ok to spoil myself?" AMANE... UEUEUUEUE
the little ding sound effects in the instrumental?????
amanes voice is ADORABLE
THE INSTRUMENTAL IN THAT PART WHERE SHES HELPING THE CAT HAS THAT GODLY TYPE SOUND YOUD TYPICALLY ASSOCIATE WITH CHURCHES AND STUFF AND I DONT KNOW HOW TO EXPLAIN IT PROPERLY BUT JUST RELISTEN TO IT AND YOU WILL KNOW WHAT I MEAN. ITS SUCH A NEAT DETAIL
i could go on about this mv for days but i am not a theorist unfortunately. just. magic sweep
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Honestly I want to know your opinion on Nemma. Because honestly I don’t like the ship either and want to see if someone agrees with me.
Oh my god hiiii nerd-chocolate!! I will GLADLY detail why I don’t like nemma. Buckle up cause I’m not exactly normal about this subject
I will preface this by saying I understand why it’s Noah and Emma. I get why if Noah had to have a girlfriend it would be someone who would match his intellect and someone he could hold a competent conversation with. Logically, on paper, I understand. It’s not so much the concept of Noah and Emma dating that I dislike, it’s the execution. The development of the relationship was a train wreck. HERES WHY!!!
From the very beginning Nemma showed problems. The Noah that couldn’t play a game of dodgeball for $100,000 and was so standoffish he could only make a good friend in Owen is now suddenly falling in love at first sight with a girl that did a front flip and I’m just supposed to accept it at face value??
You could argue that it’s been three years and a person could change in three years. I’d like to argue back: this is a cartoon. If the development happened offscreen, it didn’t happen. Noah had a drastic change in personality out of nowhere because they give us no reason to believe otherwise. This is just the beginning. It’s all downhill from here, honey.
This is very much subjective and a personal thing but do you know how irritating his face is.
It makes me ill. Who is this.
Back on track, Noah is out of character the rest of his time competing (not that he was perfectly in character to begin with.) Both the way he treats Owen and how he acts regarding Emma is not believable to me. He’s tragically mean to Owen almost the entire time and he’s insufferably… inconsistent? When it comes to Emma? Like they didn’t exactly have pinned down how he should act when he’s in love so it changes with every episode.
[I did a bit of research regarding the more important Nemma episodes and their writers, but couldn’t draw any good conclusions from it. I did find out Laurie Elliot wrote both Slap Slap Revolution from World Tour (notorious for the most significant Noco moments of the season) and New Beijinging (where Nemma is at its worst in my opinion.) This isn’t all that relevant but it IS fucking hilarious. The writer responsible for “Cody’s got a tiny sausage!” being made to (co) write a Nemma episode and subsequently butchering it is reeeeeally funny to me.]
On the topic of New Beijinging. I cannot watch this episode uninterrupted and it’s because of Nemma. I despise it. It’s not that I don’t believe Noah would act like a bumbling fool in love… in concept. In CONCEPT, I can buy the failed one liners and the speaking your thoughts out loud and the acting out to try and impress her. In practice it’s so painful to watch. The Noah that said he’s incapable of being embarrassed in his WT biography is now spitting hot food in his love interests face and physically recoiling every time he tries to talk to her. I can’t express through text the pain and anguish it causes me.
This is ALSO after giving her a suave one liner in the previous episode. How does he go from cool and collected to cringing at her I- AAAGGHHHH.
They don’t suddenly get better when the feelings are mutual, either. They just become insufferable together and it’s tragic. This is specifically about Māori or Less and Got Venom? (though admittedly I haven’t gotten that far in my rewatch and don’t remember Got Venom? too vividly. I do know they’re annoying in it even to Owen and Kitty so.) They just become so infatuated with each other they forget the rest of the world exists and while I enjoy the CONCEPT……… it just manages to drag down both characters. At least they treat Emma with a little more respect and have her snap out of the haze to play the damn game but THEY END UP KNOCKING OUT NOAH INSTEAD. Pain agony suffering and woe. Noah going catatonic and leaving Owen to struggle is the worst it gets but he still never truly focuses on the game and even hopes to get kicked off. He won’t even play for Owen.
Do I even have to mention Owen. My poor guy Owen. Owen suffers an unnecessary amount for Nemmas development. It hurts my heart even thinking about it but I’ll list off examples. Ways Owen has suffered for the sake of the relationship include:
Being made to carry dead weight (Noah) on more than one occasion.
Being used as a flotation device, offered by Noah to Emma, after being frozen solid.
Being forced to wait for the sister team, making his team go from first place to seventh.
Being victim to Noah’s snark and insults, which he does to either impress Emma or to reprimand Owen because of something Emma related.
LOSING THE RACE CAUSE NOAH COULD ONLY FIND THE ENERGY TO MOVE WHEN HE WAS OFFERED A KISS FROM EMMA.
(Side note: have I ever mentioned that RR Noah is my enemy? I feel like I don’t mention it enough)
To wrap this up, I do genuinely believe Nemma could have been great. I don’t hate Nemma cause I thought Noah was gay, or I’m a Noco shipper, or any other superficial reason. I hate it cause it’s a terribly written relationship that had to completely destroy my favorite character of the series to try and make it work. It’s a damn shame, really. I wish I could look past how different Noah is and how badly he treats Owen and how sickly annoying he and Emma can be and just, at the very least, tolerate Nemma. But I can’t, and I never will.
#and nemmas the reason the adversity twins got kicked off so they’re immediately on my bad side forever#SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I GOT BUSY AND MY THOUGHTS WERE HARD TO ARTICULATE#but there it is. all the reasons I don’t like nemma#thank you for letting me get that out of my system#ship hate#total drama#total drama presents: the ridonculous race#tdrr#I don’t feel like tagging anything else actually#let’s keep this one here#Starry has a question#Starry speaks
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Due to flare ups, I’ve been thinking more about my relationship with my disabilities and my relationship with God — any good resources/book you can recommend?
Hey there, sending love and solidarity as you go through flare ups and as you explore all this <3
You came to the right place — disability theology is one of my great passions! Here are my recs for you. If anyone has more resources to add on or insights for anon, please share!
For starters...
First, you might enjoy wandering through my #disability theology tag over on my other blog, which includes excerpts from various disability theologians.
Or reading through / praying with the disability text prayers I shared here last July for Disability Pride Month, which were written by a variety of disabled folks.
Since it's Lent, Unbound's Disabling Lent: An Anti-Ableist Lenten Devotional is timely!
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Memoirs Exploring Christian Faith & Chronic Pain / Illness
My Body and Other Crumbling Empires, Lyndsey Medford (2023)
This memoir connects faith, chronic illness (especially autoimmune disorders), and the sickness at the heart of Western Empire / the Protestant work ethic.
How can we learn to work with instead of against our bodies? How can we rebuild our world to treat all bodies with the love and gentleness they deserve?
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This Here Flesh, Cole Arthur Riley (2022)
An incredibly beautiful book, poetic and searing...explores the goodness of embodied life and intersections between disability (particularly chronic illness), Blackness, queerness, womanhood, and more.
Each chapter focuses on a different emotion (anger, joy, lament, love...) to teach us how to honor and listen to what we feel in our bodies.
CW for accounts of sexual assault and other forms of and abuse and trauma, as well as accounts of antiblack racism.
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Everything Happens for a Reason and Other Lies I've Loved, Kate Bowler (2018)
If you've been steeped in any kind of prosperity gospel, "if you pray hard enough you'll be healed" type Christianity, I highly recommend this book.
Bowler writes with gentle honesty about how her chronic pain and then cancer compelled her to move away from that kind of harmful Christianity into a faith with room for doubt, grief, and a God that holds her in her suffering.
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Disability Theology — Books, Podcasts, Videos
Disability: The Inclusive Church Resource edited by Bob Callighan (2014)
If you're interested in the perspectives of various disabled Christians, I love the range of voices they brought into this text! A great intro to how theology and church life impact disabled persons and how our churches must re-form themselves with disabled persons at the center.
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My Disabled AND Blessed YouTube series
I've got multiple YouTube videos that draw from various disability theologians!
I especially recommend my introduction to reading the Bible with a disability lens — stressing how different biblical authors hold different views around disability; so what's God's overall message? — and my video on Luke 14's parable of the banquet!
If you have questions about or struggle with the Gospels' healing narratives, I also recommend my livestream on that topic.
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My friend Laura's Autistic Liberation Theology Podcast (you can listen wherever you get podcasts)
Laura explores scripture through the lens of an autistic trans person who uses a wheelchair and has multiple chronic & mental illnesses.
I especially recommend their episode on "the Gethsemane of things," which takes an honest look at pain and where God is in our suffering. (Most of Laura's eps don't have transcripts, but I shared an abridged version of this ep on my podcast and it has a transcript)
"I am not your ornamental prophet" is also a great episode for thinking about what pressures are put on disabled persons and how to construct boundaries for yourself
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The Mad and Crip Theology Podcast
This podcast interviews the authors who are published in the Mad and Crip Theology journal, which is really cool! You can watch episodes with captions on YouTube, or listen wherever you get podcasts.
A good starter episode: this one "on Queer and Crip Sexuality and the Disabled Christ"
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Some eps of Blessed Are the Binary Breakers
While my own podcast largely centers trans perspectives, disability comes up frequently as well! Each ep has a transcript. These are the disability-focused ones:
"No End to Transphobia without Uprooting Ableism — exploring embedded forms of oppression"
"Our Pride Is Not a Sin — a Queer and Disabled Christian Lens"
"Goodness Embodied — an intersex, nonbinary first human and a disabled risen Christ"
"Marginalized Bodies as Spectacle and the good news in Jesus's disabling wounds"
"Eli and the prophet Elijah"
“Secular” books that helped shape my own theology
What Can a Body Do? How We Meet the Built World, Sara Hendren (2020)
Fantastic book digging into recent disability history, present, and future with focus on the “misfit” theory of disability where body and world interact with each other disharmoniously, and the creativity disabled people employ to make them more harmonious
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Exile and Pride, Eli Clare (1999)
One of my favorite books of all time. Connects disability, queerness, rural life, trauma, and more. Clare is one of the originators of the concept of the “bodymind” (though he talks about that more in one of his later books)
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Wanting even more resources? Here's my google doc with aaaaall the disability theology stuff — plus some helpful disability 101 stuff to share with loved ones!
Praying for comfort, wisdom, and community support for you as you journey! Please feel free to drop by again with any questions that come up or to share any insights you've gained any time <3
#disability theology#disabled AND blessed#disabled christians#faithfullydisabled#resources#recs#books#this reminds me i've been meaning to share more excerpts i've gathered from disability theology books...#anyone interested in that should go follow my other blog a-queer-seminarian and i'll start posting some in the coming days...
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okay; part 2/2
MAIN MASTERLIST
જ⁀➴ part two of okay!! written for an old request from @hi-my-name-is-riley — hon, i am SO sorry that it took this long, it’s been a mess but i hope this is alright !! 😭 if not, (and i'm sorry it's short!!) then please feel free to curse my name to the winds !! (aka, ask another writer to do something better if this wasn’t what u were looking for <3) xo
summary: when you find out you’ve passed this time, bucky’s still by your side through it all — ps. congratulations, this is so so amazing for u!! i really hope ur proud of urself <33
The jump of the cork from the bottle pulled a hoot from your throat, and you laughed; the surprise of the sound so fleeting and lovely you could've cried then. You'd been crying a lot lately. Though as smoke rose from the lip and you realised how these days most things seemed just that — so fleeting and lovely — you were grateful that joyful tears now took your former sorrow's lost place.
The man by your side put his hand to your back as you poured the cool drink into glasses.
This time last week, you'd been coping okay but still hanging onto all those what-ifs. Had you have passed, what would your life look like compared to what it was then, as you thought it? You'd wait for the kettle to boil, you'd be washing the dishes and then it'd come — a thought of yes, there were other chances. But, what if? What if.
Now though, there were no questions in your mind of how it had been meant to happen. Something shone in your chest that at first had felt barely familiar, but what you now knew was pride; the very same feeling your boyfriend had kept you alive with in the weeks that had followed that first phone call that had ultimately changed the trajectory of your life.
And for the better.
Your eyes sought him out at the thought, as they always did, just to find his already on you. Sam and Sarah, across from you both on the other side of your small city apartment's kitchen island, were here too; your best friend on a stool of the breakfast bar and clapping, whooping with a wide smile. Her brother had shared her enthusiasm, loving you as a friend so close he was family.
You'd always had the kind of relationship where he was also like your own brother — light and easy, but a bond you relied on, too.
Even when he was a pain in your ass.
Today though, this was one of those (rare) times he wasn't; where he'd shared in your joy wholeheartedly as you'd filled them in on what had happened with the call. Of course, Bucky had been the first to know — had been at home when the phone rang. And had known just by the look on your face, by your tone and wide, full eyes, that something had changed.
Something crucial had happened.
And thank God that it had.
Seeing you suffer hurt worse than anything HYDRA had ever done to him.
You'd ended that call with enough restless energy to induce a self combustion, and needless to say, you'd called your two friends as soon as you could to share the news of success.
Truly you were grateful, in this moment and so many others when you looked back on how far you'd come. Every single day spent aching with regret, the swelling pain of that rejection you'd coped with — and now there was this: you, with all the opportunity you'd rightfully earned through hard work. Through persistent ambition.
It seemed now though, looking at Bucky, that there was only you two in the room. There wasn't Sarah, chiding her boys — your godchildren — who ran about the small space; there wasn't even Sam who was laughing, and trying — failing miserably, though — not to show it.
This was your family, the one that you'd made, and the people you loved with all your heart. But to your eyes there was still only Bucky, the love and pure joy of your life.
All other talk fell away.
The sheer warmth in his eyes had your heart pounding hard in an ache so fierce as to nearly floor you. You could barely breathe through it, but somehow, just like he always did — Bucky gave you the strength. It was a private moment that promised a million more to come that night, and one which said I told you so in a way that only compounded his faith.
Because not for one moment had he ever stopped believing in you. In his girl. In the woman to whom he hoped, maybe soon, he'd have the courage to finally ask that question …
And now, to stand there seeing the joy on your face, the relief, the self-pride? It was enough to bring the man to his knees, but for now, he would just toast his glass against yours. He would lean in, his arm held round your waist to keep you tucked close into his side, press a soft kiss to vour temple and just whisper, "You did it, doll.”
Because you had. You'd done it. You'd passed.
And you were okay. So much more than okay.
#bucky barnes#bucky fic#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x fem!reader#bucky x f!reader#bucky x female yn#bucky x female!reader#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfics#bucky imagine#bucky barnes x female!reader#james buchanan barnes#james barnes#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky fluff#bucky comfort fic#bucky barnes fics#bucky barnes fanfiction#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes x you#marvel fanfic
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honest to god favorite fnaf game?
ultimate custom night.
dont come after me yet let me explain,,
not necessarily for gameplay (that one goes to fnaf1 and fnaf6), but the purpose it plays in the lore.
time after time has it confirmed a multitude of theories people have been pumping out for 8 years. whether this be lore relating to cassidy's vengeful spirit, henry's robotics/the mediocre melodie's importance to the plot, henry and william's relationship pre-murders, possession of the toys, mangle's gender, any of the animatronics' genders really, the importance of chica, how william lured his victims/his strategy, and susie being the first of the 5 kids.
out of all of these, the most important is the significance of the player change. not is it just for the lore clues, but rather the plot in general. its been confirmed in-game that you're playing as william afton, post-murders and post-springlocks, as well as post-fnaf3/6. this is slowly touched up on by the death quotes of the animatronics, before leading up to the fact that it takes place in william's special own purgatory, relating back to henry's speech in fnaf6.
ever feel like you're being tortured, playing 50/20 mode 25 hours a day? that's how you're supposed to feel, since that's how william feels. except each death is more real, as he experiences it inside the screen. william is being tortured, being killed over and over again for his actions, being forced to relive the robots he made that started it all. being forced to relive all these different locations, that trigger him, cause him ptsd, or to melt down. these are being flashed over and over again with no particular end.
yes, it is his own purgatory. and this is also what henry meant by how "the darkest pit of hell has opened to swallow you whole". this was the pit of hell he was talking about. imagine being overwhelmed by all of your triggers that never end, and the feeling keeps stacking up and up, and right when you think it cant get any worse, it does, and the bar of pain skyrockets. where theres no limit to your torture, and it can just keep layering and layering upon itself. and imagine that you had deserved that level of psychological and physical torture, like how william afton had deserved it. the idea is HEAVY. which is why its one of my favorites.
but how do we know he's suffering to such extent? well, imagine what you experience playing in the game, in real life, turned up to the max. we know its PAINFUL because of the way he screams in the old man consequences secret in-game. he goes as far as to communicate in the teeniest source of gameplay to reach out to someone, ANYONE. he reaches out to the two people that are never going to help him. this shows how desperate he is, and yet still so arrogant. we also know this is his own purgatory because of henry's words to william in his speech, but also because of an easter egg you can get with old man consequences.
the concept of william, instead of being put to rest or being brought back to life to be tortured, having his own purgatory that he is to remain in forever is so cool, and the way fnaf should've ended. knowing he was in neverending pain, and all other souls have been put to rest. its my favorite concept in the eyes of lore, so yes, ucn is my favorite fnaf game.
ok rant over.🫡
#copied and pasted straight from the notes app#fnaf#fnaf ucn#ucn#ultimate custom night#five nights at freddy's#william afton#fnaf lore#fnaf lore rant#fnaf lore essay#lmao#fnaf 6#fnaf 6 pizza simulator#henry emily#michael afton#mike schmidt#springtrap#burntrap#afton#mutuals interact#pretty please
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Theoden and Eowyn's Relationship
There seems to me a shift in the way that Theoden treats Eowyn in Two Towers, to how he treats her in Return of the King.
In Two Towers, the first thing he says to her on awakening is an order for her to leave the room. The danger is passed, he is healed, she can go now.
Theoden hears of how Grima, the man he trusted, stalked Eowyn and obviously had malicious plans for her. Whereas Eomer is rightly incensed by that, we get little reaction from Theoden that his adoptive daughter had been harassed by the man he welcomed into his halls and allowed great authority to.
We then see Eowyn serving Theoden, waiting on him, while her brother and Theoden's guests get to sit with him.
Then, (an oh god does this piss me off) we get Theoden pretty much forgetting she exists when the people tell him they want the House of Eorl to rule them, even when he and Eomer are gone. The scene where Theoden heeds the people's wishes and puts Eowyn in charge, even giving her a corselet and a sword, could have been moving and a moment of pride for Eowyn, but it comes on the back of that total dismissal of her as a member of their house. Their parting is perfunctory, with Theoden giving Eowyn orders and then riding off, leaving her behind to guard an empty hall.
In turn, when Eowyn is dismissed from the hall, she looks at Theoden with "cool pity." She isn't rejoicing to see him recovered, she isn't warm and tender, she is removed, even contemptuous. Then, when she bids Theoden farewell, she says all the right stuff about how hard the parting is, but her focus is clearly elsewhere. It is with Aragorn, (the man who is everything she thinks a king should be.)
Reading Two Towers, any great love between Theoden and Eowyn would be a case of telling instead of showing. There's little warmth, interest or respect between them. The greatest hint of there being anything personal between the two is when Theoden has to insist Eowyn leave, as that suggests Eowyn was reluctant to leave his side.
In Return of the King, the dynamic shifts considerable. It is far warmer and much more tender and personal. When Theoden returns to Dunharrow, he asks after Eowyn, checking on how her work is going, but also asking how she is, probably seeing that has been weeping as Merry had noticed.
In Dunharrow, Eowyn is at last allowed to sit with her uncle while he dines with her brother, instead of waiting on him. During this dinner, Theoden notices Eowyn seems in need of comfort, and tries to offer it to her. Furthermore, just as he started calling Eomer "son", he now calls Eowyn "daughter".
Their parting is described as having been very painful, and Theoden later notes that Eowyn didn't want him gone from her side. While he dies with some peace, feeling like he has regained his honour and accomplished worthy feats, he mentions how Eowyn didn't want him to go and now he will never see her again, the closest thing to regret we hear in his dying speech. He calls her dearer-than-daughter, and uses his last breath to bid her farewell.
Eowyn, in turn, breaks away from Elfhelm's eored so she can ride close to the king, is noted several times to have Theoden as a father, and of course, is willing to endure a terrible death to allow Theoden to die in peace.
Now, the shift in their dynamic can be attributed to Tolkien needing to make Eowyn's attempted sacrifice and Theoden's following death more moving, but I also think there are in-universe reasons for the shift in dynamic as well.
First, in Two Towers, Theoden is still coming out from his own traumatic experience. A traumatic experience that probably left him feeling ashamed, as during that time he fit into his people's conception of neither a man nor a king, and his country suffered for it. Eowyn was with him that whole time, she saw his fall into dotage, and as the narrative noted that Eowyn "pitied" him for it, and saw in him the fall of their house, Theoden likewise felt the same, and also either saw or at least suspected Eowyn's own feelings. She is a symbol of his hurt pride.
Eowyn's presence at his side was a reminder of his time spent being nursed by her, a time of suffering and degradation, which Theoden would rather not be reminded of. and now he's coming out from that, there's a distance between them. That their relationship has been one of nursemaid and patient, only to be drastically altered, also makes it reasonable for there now to be a gap between them, now that Theoden has taken up a role of authority and power once more, and Eowyn, his living crutch, is no longer needed.
At the same time, Theoden has gotten used to seeing Eowyn as a crutch, a staff for him to lean on, and not a person with a will or capabilities of her own.
Eomer is his sister-son, the last of his house, the brave warrior who endured imprisonment at his own adoptive father's hands to do what's right for their people, and the future of Rohan. Eowyn is the nurse he no longer needs, the reminder of his lost pride and power, the crutch he can now throw aside and pray he never needs again.
That he lives in a patriarchal society and thus already has a lazy, general expectation of women and women's roles, also means he is going to have something of a blind spot to Eowyn. She waits on him and comes and goes at his calling because that is what women do. It doesn't occur to him that Eowyn can lead, because Eowyn as a leader simply isn't something he has ever seen her as.
The fact that he's dealing with his own trauma, loss of his son, the threat of Sauron and Saruman, and his imminent march to war, all means that he really isn't in the head space to re-think things with Eowyn, notice how she too has been suffering, or acknowledge the power in her that has been overlooked by him. Eowyn, likewise, has little time or cause to reform the bond with her uncle.
Come Return of the King, things have changed. Time has passed, for one. Theoden is a leading king once more, with a victory under his belt. His pride, to an extent, has been restored. At the same time, he knows more war is coming, and he will probably be dying soon. As such, Eowyn is less the shameful reminder of his past, and more a child he will have to say farewell to very soon.
On returning to Dunharrow, he is presented with two bits of information about Eowyn. One, that she had done her duty very well, the people are settled and safe, and they followed her, just as Hama said they would. At the same time, Eowyn has obviously been suffering. Before, Theoden was the king, the leader, and at the same time, he was the patient and the sufferer in need of tending to and comfort.
Now, Theoden sees that Eowyn is a leader, that she has an existence and virtues aside from being his carer. At the same time, he is reminded that Eowyn has feelings, that she suffers hurts and losses, and needs comforting.
The tension from Eowyn having seen and nursed Theoden at his lowest might be eased, at least on Theoden's side, for Eowyn is no longer just a crutch that Theoden doesn't want or need, and Theoden is now in the place of seeing Eowyn vulnerable and in need of comfort.
And just as how Theoden now looks on Eomer fully as a son following the battle, Eowyn is now fully his daughter. He has made that choice to embrace them so, and on doing this, he sees Eowyn has proven herself a leader, but is also in pain. Paternal pride and paternal comfort now have cause to meet.
On the note of leadership, that Eowyn now sits with Theoden at table, instead of waiting on him, marks a shift in their dynamic and Eowyn's position. Eowyn has taken charge of the people, she has organised the camp, she has acted as lord in his place, it's no longer right that she act as his cupbearer.
Going into speculation, we can also look at how Theoden assigns Merry to serve Eowyn. Now, this is to give Merry some purpose, and to keep him safe. But at the same time, he is acknowledging Eowyn as a leader, while also perhaps ensuring she has someone in her company who might be comforting to her.
Theoden rides off to death, knowing that this may very well be the last time he sees Eowyn. Eowyn, having had some part of her bond with Theoden reforged, her love and respect for him re-captured, coupled with a lingering sense of duty that it's her role to care for him, doesn't just ride to battle, but rides to protect him.
Finally, in terms of framing, we see Eowyn and Theoden through the eyes of Merry. Merry is compassionate, able to pick up on people's feelings, perhaps more inclined to notice the familial stuff, than the more removed narrator of Two Towers.
In his recollections, retold to Sam and Frodo for the Red Book, it is likely that he would have remembered more of the tender moments between Theoden and Eowyn, than whoever it was who told Sam and Frodo about the pair in Two Towers. Especially as Merry loved Theoden like a father and was very close to Eowyn, and in hindsight knew about what love for Theoden would drive Eowyn to do. Therefore, both at the time and in memory, he would have placed far more importance on their interpersonal relationship, than the Three Hunters would have done with their re-tellings.
Who knows what moments between Theoden and Eowyn we would have seen in the Two Towers; Eowyn's reaction to Eomer being called last of their house, Theoden's face on being reminded Eowyn was there, whatever passed between them when Theoden gave her that sword and corselet, had we got them from Merry's POV,
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Being Shady 101
Summary: The longer you spend in the house, the more chaotic things get. One moment you're at your highest high, the next you're at your lowest low.
Warnings: light making out, arguing, shitty exes, toxic behavior, the narrative once again suffers because I think I'm funny.
A/N: do NOT ask me why this took forty consecutive years to write, I'm not proud of my snail's pace. It's here now, and that's what's most important. This one is a whee bit of a roller coaster but this is a reality tv show au, so that is what you signed up for.
Series Masterlist
Despite the insanity of everything happening, Wanda was having a good time on the show. She had a few tense moments with Vision, but she got along with everyone well. She was terrified when she got called down to the confession room. Maybe Vision hadn't been as over her as he claimed? Though Wanda would be disappointed, she wouldn’t be surprised. Vision had a habit of lying about his feelings a lot. Maybe Monica hadn’t given her the green light? Monica was your best friend — you would unlikely ignore her romantic advice. There was also Carol, but Wanda didn’t care what your ex thought.
“So, how were your first two weeks?”
Despite everything, Wanda smiled. “You know, they were actually pretty good.” The smile on her face grew the more she thought. Vision was a pain in her ass, Carol was getting in the way, but she was having fun. The house was chaotic with so many personalities, but you were there to keep it together. “Y/N is pretty cool…no, they’re amazing. The others are nice too, but I think the two of us get along the most.” A kaleidoscope of butterflies filled her stomach, and she began twisting in the chair. “They’re so cute too. We made breakfast yesterday, and somehow they got covered in flour! They were so pouty. It was adorable!”
The production team got stuck listening to Wanda’s rambling for several minutes. Wanda covered everything from your hair to how you walked when you were sleepy.
“What’s the deal with you and Carol?”
Wanda’s mood fell almost immediately. “I don’t hate her,” She lied. Wanda hated Carol a whole lot. Two weeks shouldn’t have been enough time to make a house of people you had barely met hate you, but Carol did it somehow. Wanda tried to be fair. It seemed the relationship you two had lasted a long time. To want closure or not be over it was reasonable. Constantly butting in and literally getting between anyone who may make a move on you was less unacceptable. “Carol is…getting over some things, and I have to give her space right now,” She said through gritted teeth.
≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
Wanda cared about her image. She was an influencer, after all. Coming off as too mean or distant could have her labeled as mean or bitchy for the rest of her life. More recently, she worried about being overprotective. Wanda definitely had feelings for you, but she didn't want to overstep. Carol was a dick, but you seemed used to it. "Used to it" was a phrase Wanda had heard from you often when excusing Carol's god-awful behavior. No matter how much your ex had upset you, you were used to it.
Wanda couldn't stand it. You deserved pampering. Wanda could do that regardless of what kind of relationship you two had. She'd claim the loveseat just so you and her could snuggle. Wanda always made an effort for you. She cared for you and made you feel safe. Wanda made Carol look as worthless as she was. Carol didn’t like that. That meant everyone in the house had to deal with it. Carol would butt into whatever Wanda had planned. It would piss Wanda off. Then, you would get upset. It would spread to Monica before finally making the whole house tense. Wanda had had enough.
"Breakups are hard, I get that," Wanda said, forcing as much empathy as she could. Just getting Carol to talk was a pain in the ass, and getting her actually to listen would be infinitely more complex. "I want what's best for you, and you're not going to find that chasing after your ex, no one is." Lying on a show like this was dangerous, but Wanda learned that Carol only heard what she wanted to. A little white lie to catch her attention was necessary.
Carol nodded along with seemingly nothing in her eyes. Had she not been a colossal bitch, it would've been cute. "I get it, I really appreciate you looking out for me." She took a step closer to Wanda. If respecting personal space was a job, Carol would be unemployed. "You and me, we got off on the wrong foot. I'm glad we're coming together and fixing this."
Wanda nodded in agreement, seemingly unaware of how quickly Carol was closing in on her. "Yeah, I really don't want them to get caught up in —"
It would be several long hours before you would find out what happened between Wanda and Carol in the kitchen that evening. One moment, you were calmly talking to Monica in your room. The next, the two of you are running down the stairs and watching as Steve and Thor attempt to pull Carol and Wanda away from each other. Profanities in languages you didn't understand and ones you did. "What the fuck is happening," You shouted to be heard over all the ruckus.
"Y/N!"
You frowned at the shouting. “Yes, I’m here, but someone better explain what’s happening.” Monica pulled you back from taking another step. Carol’s face was bright red. A shameful frown on Wanda’s face. Steve and Thor were trying to drag both women back to their rooms. They had fought that much was obvious, but why? It was probably Carol’s fault, but that didn’t explain much of anything.
Monica gently squeezed your arm. “I’ll be with you no matter where you go,” She whispered.
You nodded. Monica was always there for you, and she was there for you now; if everything else on this show went to hell. “Okay, we got this,” You mumbled. Your words didn’t falter but following Steve and going to Wanda’s room felt strange. For as long as you’d known her, you were at Carol’s beck and call. It didn’t matter if you were at a party or busy doing coursework — you would drop everything to save her. You ignored her this time. Walking forward and never looking back felt amazing.
Wanda didn’t feel as great. She had done the one thing she had promised herself not to do. The only thing distracting her from shame was the bitter taste of Carol’s tongue and her failed attempts at getting rid of it. “How much pre-workout can one person drink without having a heart attack,” She spat out into her trash can. Steve had been there to reassure her, but Wanda didn't want to be a burden.
Nothing but you.
You gently knocked at the door, unsure of what state Wanda was in. "Hey Wands, I just wanna talk," You whispered softly. You peeked in the door, surprised to see her bent over the trash can and spitting water into it. "Did she hit you?," You asked, seemingly ready to pounce. Carol was much stronger than you, but you weren't going to let her get away with needless violence.
"No, no, it was the other way around actually," She whispered, ashamed of her misbehavior. "I don't know what you're working through with Carol and I shouldn't have said anything to her in the first place. I just…I don't know I think me and her must have miscommunicated because she kissed me-"
"She kissed you," You and Monica all shouted in unison.
Wanda took a sharp inhale through her teeth. She had just barely processed all the emotions she felt herself, but you looked heartbroken. "I just wanted to talk some stuff out because she was being an ass and she just…went for it!"
Monica let out an all-knowing sigh and rubbed her temples. "I know what that's like."
You abruptly turned around to face Monica. "She kissed you too?" Eyes wide and doubly concerned. Monica shook her head no, but it didn't calm your nerves much. You felt sick. Carol was awful, you knew that much. It seemed like she'd reveal something entirely worse about herself every day. You felt stupid for falling for all her tricks. "Wanda, I'm so sorry."
"Hey, this isn't your fault. You're not responsible for her actions." Wanda reached out to hold your hand and ran her thumb over your bare knuckles. "Just stay with me for a bit? I don't wanna deal with anyone else right now." She flashed you a gentle smile.
"So you're taking my best friend and leaving me with the collateral? I see how it is," Monica teased. "Go ahead, snuggle up and kiss while I pick up the pieces!" She dramatically turned away before closing the door behind her.
"No, Monica, that's not what I meant!" Wanda sighed playfully. "Is she always this dramatic or is she just being defensive," Wanda asked, looking up at you hopefully.
You shrugged. " We used to be theater kids so she just loves theatrics." A fond smile spread across your face. Remembering the silly costume and dreadful tech weeks, you never thought they'd land you a show like this.
"You used to be a theater kid?"
"I'll tell you all about it if you let me go long enough to get my laptop."
≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
You spent the next few days trying to take care of Wanda. Emphasis on the trying. If you had one nice gesture for her, she'd double down and come up with ten more. It didn't help that most involved her spoiling you and keeping you cooped up in your room. Your room had become a sanctuary of sorts so you weren't completely cut off from the rest of the house. Wanda wasn't very happy about it, but you weren't so in love to let yourself be locked in her room forever. You entirely were, but Monica would never let you live that down.
Especially not after you had subjected her to the absolute grilling of a lifetime over her romantic choices.
"I just think you're overreacting! We clean it up," Your best friend shouted in her defense. Monica had always had a strange taste for partners. Never had you thought her partners were ugly, they were just weird people. They always had some undeniable and near-obnoxious quirk that made them stand out. "Even then, it wasn't like she broke anything— and she's really cute."
You could only scuff at how lost your best friend was. "I don't care how cute she is! You don't just make elephant toothpaste in my kitchen and use up all of my yeast without consequences!" A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you thought back to the sticky substance that covered the kitchen floor late last night. "I haven't made bread in a week and I can still feel the sticky shit in between the floorboards!"
"There's no need to yell, I'm sure Darcy tried her hardest to clean it up. Right, Monica?" Wanda asked with raised eyebrows. She had found amusement in the playful quarrels between you and your best friend. Occasionally she'd say a few words in your favor before eventually being restricted to a glorified human teddy bear.
Monica scrunched her face up in disapproval. For some reason, not a single person in the house could lie to Wanda. Either they were terrible liars or she saw through them completely. "No, I cleaned it up by myself so she wouldn't get in trouble," She grumbled before leaning back in defeat. "Fine, okay! I've got it bad, but at least not dragging her around like some lost puppy!"
You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but a screeching alarm rang out through the house. The three of you huffed out. "I don't care what happens down there, this isn't over," You said playfully before walking downstairs.
The rest of the group settled down on or near the couch. You were thankful for the space the others had put between you and Carol. You two hadn't talked in days but she made you uncomfortable. It was a feeling you couldn't shake but never had time to understand. When Wanda was around, you didn't want to. You felt safe with her and that's all you could ever ask for in a partner.
Partner.
Was Wanda your partner now? Was it fair to call her that? Did she even want to be? Maybe she was just a nice person and wanted to get back with Vision. That idea made you upset. Wanda was too good for Vision. She was too good for anyone in the house if you were being honest with yourself.
Your internal bitterness was cut off by the short gust of air that blew over your face when Tony dramatically threw the blanket over his face. "Noo, I've put up with enough bullshit," The man shouted before turning underneath the blanket.
Your eyes glanced over to the person standing next to Loki. A smirk appeared over your face at a chance to tease Tony. "I'm sorry, could you please repeat your introduction? I couldn't hear over someone's constant whining."
The new guest let out a sharp breath through his nose and stood up straighter, clearly trying to impress you. "My name is Stephen Strange. Tony just suddenly broke things off with me one day and just ghosted me." There was an obvious bitterness in his words. "That was several months ago and I haven't gotten an explanation since."
Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. In one swift movement, you snatched the cloth covering Tony. "So…your first boyfriend's name is Steve and then you break and get another boyfriend named Stephen?"
Tony frantically tried to snatch the blanket back from you. "It doesn't even count! They're not spelled the same way!" The two of you engaged in a brief tug-of-war. Had it been a fair battle, Tony would've won easily. Unfortunately for him, Wanda hated to see you lose.
One swift tug sent the fabric flying out of Tony's hands and caused him to fall back on the couch. "Live with the shame of your slutty decisions!" A fit of giggles exploded through the room as Tony was forced to face another one of his exes.
"This is actually Tony's ex on the beach and we're just living in it," Quil said sharply, only for his confidence to fade into nothing. "Awe, come on, she broke up with me!"
"No, you disappeared for eight weeks without telling me anything and were surprised I started seeing other people!" The mystery woman rolled her eyes. When she turned to everyone else, she didn't bother softening her face. "I'm Gamora.'' Gamora's brief introduction greatly shifted the tone. For a moment, you wondered if Gamora was on the show for the same reasons as you. Not by choice, but by questionable management and dubious contracts.
After the new exes finished their introduction and a few jokes here and there, you made your way down to the kitchen. "Ah, I need to see if there's enough food for me to feed everyone!" You hopped off the couch and quickly made your way toward the kitchen. It was only a few steps, but somehow Wanda still found a way to interrupt and derail that trip.
Wanda quickly wrapped her arms around your waist and dragged you up the stairs to her bedroom. She was strangely quiet, even when she locked her door and tossed you onto her bed. For a moment, she did nothing. Just laid on top of you quietly and enjoyed the silence of the bedroom. Several minutes passed before a loud thud was heard from downstairs. Wanda let out a defeated sigh. "There are too many people in this house, I can't wait until we leave this place and I don't have to share you with anyone."
Your heart nearly exploded out of your chest. "Excuse me?"
"Oh, were you talking to someone else," Wanda asked. She tried to remain relaxed, but nervousness was quickly settling in. The mere thought of you talking to anyone else in the house made her stomach churn. You weren't hers to be possessive of, but that didn't change the way she felt. She was meant to be yours and you were meant to be hers. All the other people that wanted you didn't matter. "I'm sorry," She wasn't, "I just thought we were…exclusive."
"No- I mean we are! I was just confused!" Your brain couldn't figure out if it was excited or terrified. Happy to be Wanda's one and only, but scared of upsetting her so soon. "Sorry, I just wasn't sure if we were on the same page. I didn't mean to freak you out or anything." You hated rambling. You only had to do it when you fucked up and made Carol angry. It was hard to forget you didn't need to do those things with Wanda. "I think you're really pretty and I'm glad we're focusing on each other, I mean it."
You were too busy trying to cover your tracks to notice how close Wanda had gotten to you. "You look cute when you're nervous." Her words broke your train of thought just long enough for her to kiss you. Her hands cupped your cheeks, gently pulling you closer. Nothing in the world would feel as good as your lips against hers. Wanda's tongue slipped into your mouth as she pushed you back against the bed. Your skin was burning hot against hers and she loved it. No one else would get the privilege of touching you that way. At that moment, it was only you and her.
Only at that moment though. The next, the both of you were reminded of the fact several other people were living in the house because of a sharp knocking at Wanda's door. "Tony- ow! I want to know what's for dinner," Steve said from behind the door.
You opened your mouth to respond, but Wanda quickly covered your mouth. "What makes you think I'd know? It's Y/N's day to cook." Her thumb lightly ran across your bottom lip before leaning down to kiss you once again. This one was much needier than the last and it would only get worse from there.
"We know because we saw you drag them upstairs like you were a seasoned kidnapper when you thought none of us were looking!"
Wanda begrudgingly pulled away, giving you time to catch your breath. "Um, the meatballs Tony likes if he promises to give us- me five…fifteen extra minutes before I start!" You were far too enthralled with Wanda to just get up and leave, especially not for some untamed man-child. Your head craned forward, desperate for another kiss.
Tony's dramatic sighing could be heard through the door. "Fine, but if everyone starts giving you weird looks at the dinner table, don't say I didn't warn you!"
"Why don't I give them something to stare at, hm," Wanda whispered seductively into your ear.
≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
Wanda hated to seem greedy but sharing you was becoming an increasingly difficult task. It wasn't that she was so possessive that she didn't want people talking to you, but it seemed that something would go wrong every time she let you out of her sight. Those things always had something to do with Carol, but Wanda was never there to prove it and you refused to tell her.
The only logical solution was keeping you cooped up in her room all day. Softening you up until you were nothing but a blob of emotional mush and wrapping you in blankets was easy. It appeared the hard part was keeping everyone out.
"Vision, I've told you this a million times already! They're not coming out of that room until they're ready," Wanda said through gritted teeth. Monica was one thing. The two of them had agreed you deserved a break, but it seemed the rest of the house could function without you. Vision seemed to be the worst of them all. He'd follow you around like some unhoused puppy just begging to be taken home. Wanda was ashamed it worked on her at one point in time.
The blond scuffed and crossed his arms. "Of course, they're not going to leave if you take away every reason they have to go out!" Neither of them really wanted to talk to the other. If they did approach each other, it was only ever to argue over you. Vision never won them, even when other people got involved, but he never stopped causing them. "Don't you think it's a bit much to have them locked in your room all day? It's not like they'll get hurt if you're not watching them! They've made it this far."
"I'm sorry, but maybe if you didn't have the personality of cardboard, they'd actually want to talk to you!" Wanda said before harshly bringing her knife down on the cutting board. "You had three entire weeks before I got here. If you didn't catch their attention, maybe it just wasn't meant to be," She whispered, her words laced with venom.
"Wanda, you're being unreasonable," Vision whispered back, becoming equally frustrated. He didn't have enough time to say anything else. You had come downstairs and he didn't want to risk dampening the already flimsy dynamic he had with you. He forced himself to put on a much calmer demeanor when he spoke to you. "Good evening, did you sleep well?" His words fell on deaf ears as you walked right past him and buried your face in the side of Wanda's arm.
"I'm hungry," You mumbled. Despite doing absolutely nothing, you were still tired. You were well aware it was Wanda's doing, but you liked being taken care of too much to care. "Hurry up, I wanna go back to bed."
Wanda could only laugh at your clinginess. "I'm almost done, sweetheart. I just need to clean the dishes and I'll be back up there before you know it." Her answer clearly didn't please you as you grumbled something incomprehensible into her arm. "Or you can stay down here and eat while I clean." She handed you the freshly cut bowl of fruit and guided you to the kitchen. "Just relax, I'll be right here." Wanda was thankful Vision took the hint and walked away.
When one annoying door closed another much more door opened. The dreaded ringing filled the air and your peaceful lunch was ruined before it had even started. You sighed but continued to eat. Maybe you'd catch a break and wouldn't be subjected to the horror contained within the tiny bottle on the podium.
Tony quickly grabbed the bottle and read the message inside. He had to reread it a few times before he spoke. "Oh, Carol and Y/N are going to the Shack of Secrets!" Though he was proud of mentally solving the riddle, he was dreading the following moments
Wanda pulled your back against her before you could get up. "Whatever happens, I promise I'll be there for you." She placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head before letting you go. Her stomach was tied in a near unreasonable amount of knots. There was no telling what would happen down there.
You nervously made your way down the stairs. It had been so long since you'd been alone with Carol, you forgot how awful it felt. Even with no doors or locks, the room made you feel trapped. Your eyes stayed glued to the tablet sitting on the table before you. "I don't care what's on that damn thing, but you better hope it's something I don't care about," You spat out before snatching the device. You weren't keen on being in the shack for longer than you needed to be. Ominous and poorly written riddles weren't something you were willing to put up with. Your heart stopped when you read the last slide. "Gimme your phone."
"Baby, you're not going to let this whole thing get between us, are you? Don't let that thing trick you." She opened her arms wide and stepped towards you. "Just let me be your Vers again? That's all I want." Carol smiled at you, but it was a smile you were able to see through after looking at it for so long. She was hiding something.
You stepped back. "Carol, give me your phone," You said sternly. Not a single word could describe how angry you were, but you weren't even sure what you were mad about. Carol frowned at you. Had you two still been together, you would've stopped immediately, apologized for doubting her, and moved on. You were better now. When she didn't hand over her phone, you simply stole it from her.
Carol was a simple person. You had known her long enough to know where she kept everything on her phone. You knew where her photo albums were, the password to her locked photos, and your fingerprint was still in her phone for some reason. As you flipped through the photos and text messages, you worried that you were the crazy one. The photos were normal. Some old ones of you, but nothing suspicious. You were going to give up. Then you saw it.
An old, much more personal photo of you. Spread and boldly on display. Carol had many sexual photos of you, but she promised you she had deleted them all when you broke up with her. That wasn't the case. You felt sick the more you scrolled. You couldn't even bring yourself to cry. You felt stupid for thinking you could trust her.
"Look, I just forgot those were -"
"Shut up!" You'd never yelled that loud before in your life, but it felt good. Letting everything out instead of bottling it up and being a basket case. "I'm tired of taking all your stupid fucking excuses! We're done and you better hope I don't see your face ever again!" Without thinking, you slammed Carol's phone on the ground and ran back up the stairs. You pushed through everyone crowding around the entrance and locked yourself in your own room.
#pvntherz#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff smut#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda fanfic#influencer!wanda#wanda maximoff fluff#wanda x y/n#wanda x you#elizabeth olsen x female reader#elizabeth olsen x you#elizabeth olsen x reader
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Here's an angsty ask! How would the Ros react if they were finally going to confess their feelings to the mc but before they could say anything the mc rushed up to them and said "could you believe it? ( Other Ros name) just asked me out and I said yes!"
That's just plaiiinn evil anon, I mean I can totally see myself writing that because as you should know I love to see my OC's suffering.
Damon: I guess I could picture him trying to play it cool, like everything's fine and maybe unconsciously he would play even harder to conquer MC's heart, not minding at all for the other RO, that Ro is now his rival and Damon is highly competitive, letting his darker side out because of his jealousy and regretting himself for not having moved faster and beat them to win MC's heart.
Hanniel: Ah my sweet boy, If he had finally summoned the courage to confess his feelings to MC, only to be met with the news that another person had just asked them out, his heart would shatter in that moment. Despite the pain, he would force a smile, congratulating MC and expressing happiness for their newfound romance. However, the weight of unspoken emotions would linger, and in an attempt to shield himself from further heartache, Hanniel would withdraw. He'd discreetly avoid encounters with MC, silently nursing his unrequited feelings. Deep down, he'd respect their choice while grappling with the haunting question of what might have been if he had confessed his love sooner.
Nesrin: So to be fair when this happens it would be after their "political relationship" and oh god, she even has a little secret that at first would immediately stop her from acknowledging her feelings if any towards MC. Practically she would suppress her feelings and continue with how they were before any of that. Her plot would only to make MC to be with her and for her and her family there's no need for love in it, they need each other (other thing would be if it were Odette, oh boy).
Jasira: For her it would be something like, "fine, it's a quite clear sign from the gods" that was not meant to be, she has to fulfil her duty and her feelings for MC are only in her way, she might cry it out a little whilst she tries to forget MC. But then she's quite bold and might eventually confess her feelings anyway to MC just to let it out of her chest not hoping for anything just to be truthful and might lead to her and MC making out.
Odette: Aww she would have prepared a song or maybe even a letter where she poured all of her love out for MC only to find out that her one true love has chosen someone else, she might try to fight off the tears that threaten to fall out, wishing all her best to MC and their relationship with the RO, leaving right away after that. She would start singing sad songs, I mean she's quite sentimental but she's very in touch with her emotions and really her singing depends greatly on her mood. (again if the specific RO were Nesrin, let's just say that she would not let go that easy)
Sorin: She would feel played with, why would MC lead her on. MC was just another one in the long list of people who have played or taken advantage of her. So she would most likely treat MC with not affection at all, and interact the least she can with MC.
Doria/n: It would have taken them a while for doing that, I mean after a lot of denial and masking it up as it being pure lust. So if that happens they would feel really jealous and would try to take MC from the RO, in the pretence that it is just because they can and there are no feelings behind it.
Aurelia/n: They would freak out, thinking they misunderstood everything and it was pure friendship, but would eventually tell MC about their feelings and how they wish them good but wants most of it all for MC to be happy.
Verena: For her to realise that it would also require a lot, she could be banging MC and it would be just desire or just the pleasure of getting to bed with one of the top choices for marriage material in this case MC, and maybe after hearing this she would think "It's fine, we'll still continue with what we have" but might find out that she doesn't want to share MC or if MC is serious about it, that's when it will strike her, she loves MC but now she will have to find a way, no matter what she will have to do to get MC for herself.
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my favorite things about epic the musical
but now we'll be the ones who ✨SLAY✨
i love how fast and intense the part where ody's giving orders is
the soldiers' little "WHOO"s after ody's lines OUGHHHH
*hawk screech* A VISION
"I know that I'm ready!! // I don't think you're ready..."
ody's voice is so SOFT when he's singing "it's just an infant"
zeus's voice is so deep. it fits him
the backing vocals on "if you don't end him now you'll have no one left to save // penelope!!"
ody & zeus's duet. no more needs to be said
"PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME DO THIS, DON'T MAKE ME DO THIS" sobs. ough.
"is the price i pay endless pain?" yeah. seems like it. i mean the odyssey makes sure to remind us that you have endured "much suffering" like fifty times so.
the second repetition of "when does a comet become a meteor" with the whole chorus singing....
"and ithaca's waiting!!" is such a satisfying line for some reason
"PENELOPE'S WAITING!!" they have the best relationship of anyone Ever actually.
the men singing "captain, what's the plan?" so satisfying
"we're up we're off and away we go!" yayyyyy
"captain! :D" "polities! :D" (dont talk to me SOBS)
this whole song is just so great tbh.
I LOVE when ody and the men are singing together. so fun. idk why its just satisfying
jungle noises!! also the beat to Open Arms is just SOOOOO very nice i don't know why something about the drums is just so very /pos though
the lotus-eaters' voices are very fun tbh. i love the overlapping vocals. they sound like Creechurs /pos
when the lotus-eaters go "oooooh!" after polites' lines >>>>
the high flute/whatever it its thats playing the melody of athena's lyrics as she sings them? oughh >>>>>
"Let's go!!"
ody's smug little "ha-ha-ha-ha"
you can HEAR the smile in athena's voice when ody tricks her. like. ooh yes this one this is my favorite mortal.
"nah, don't be modest, i know you're a goddess" >>>
i just LOVE how ody sings "you are ATHENA badass in the ARENA unmatched witty AND QUEEN OF the best stra-te-gies we've seen"
ody's little "ohkay" after athena's "we'll see where it ends." god he sounds so just. blorbo. in this song. yknow. hes just so smug cat /aff
warrior of the mind, just, like, in GENERAL, is great
THE ARROW FLYING AT THE START OF POLYPHEMUSSSS
"WHO ARE YOU." you can HEAR the oh shit
i love ody and the Cyclops' whole exchange. just something about it.
i love the cyclops' voice filter? whatever he's got goin on. very cool
"hey cyclops do you know what's better than eating me? GETTING DRUNK!!! yeah trust me dude youll NEVER wanna eat me now"
i appreciate him repeating "nobody" three times so absolutely NO ONE can miss it.
"I'm so glad we see eye to eye" hehe. cause. yeah.
"what..? WATCH OUT!!" >>>>>>
THE BEAT HERE GOES FUCKING CRAZYYYYYYY /pos
the whole not exactly call-and-repeat thing that ody and his men do during this song. just. man i love this musical.
when the men r singing in the background of ody singing >>>>
"captain..?" POLITESSSSSSSS :((((((((
the BANGING... like. its so emotional /pos.
the cyclops singing a version of the song ody and his men were singing before >>>>>
the sort of focusing-in thing at the start of Remember Them? i dont know. its just very satisfying
remember them is just a great song all around. amazing. 10/10 no notes
i lied i have notes. i LOVE the guitar riff thing? that happens around when ody says "SCATTER"
"captain" "wait" >>>>>
the cyclops sounds so SAD when hes saying "don't go! :("
"my comrades will not DIIIIII-EEE-IEEEE in vain." they always say it like "diii-EEEE-iiiiiieeee" and its very funny
the line "selfish and prideful and vain" is so funny after reading the odyssey. this goddess raised your child for you and saved your life like 1932094234 times. have some goddamn respect. gods.
"YOU'RE NOT LOOKING FOR A MENTOR I'M NOT LOOKING FOR A FRIEND!" callbacks to previous songs >>>>>>
"wiser, why's your" love that. (sounds alike)
the little stuttering the music does at the end of this song!!! so satisfying.
#epic the musical#ive listened to this musical an UNHEALTHY amount#the otter splashes#anyways. LISTEN TO EPIC THE MUSICAL
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OK SO I FINISHED BG3 thoughts and stuff under the cut (spoilers obvs) . Pals and mutuals that played feel free to comment it with me, and also wyll enjoyers pls do interact fkfkdk
SPOILER about the ending
-Ok so i was playing a good tav dwarf paladin romancing wyll, got my team of wyll/lae'zel/karlach, but lae'zel felt like the real main character of this story and honestly its what she deserves.
-got orpheus and turned him into a mind flayer sorry bro. and then the emperor gets angry and fights with the baddies. like gosh this guy sucks
-saved the day yadda yadda and lae'zel went away to guide her kind and LOOK SHE IS MY BEST FRIEND FOREVER i was so sad but i knew it was what she wanted but IT PAINS ME
-then gale leaves me to become a god, and then astarion gets attacked by the sun and runs away and im like wow this ending is such a downer everyone is leaving me
-AND THEN. KARLACH.......
-Ok so i cried like a baby like. i fucked up i dont know what i did wrogn i cant believe karlach is gonna die im SOBBING
-But wyll is like "WE CAN LIVE ALL FIGHTING DEMONS IN HELL" and got the coolest shit ever of these 3 going on adventures like you dont know HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS ENDING!!! im so happy aaah TOT
-then there is the epilogue and it's the cutest thing i can hug shadow heart and halsin and karlach :_) tried with astarion but i dont know if its impossible or i had him too low (every companion loves me but he finds me acceptable fgoihdgfjiodgio) anyways i wanted to hug all my friends
-gale is a god and like good for him but im like ??? damn we dont see his mission or anything he does this all off screen?? i wanted to see his struggles and stuff idk i wanted to see the FEELINGS
-anyways idk if i got a bug or something but when i get to talk with people about what i am doing is just me and karlach and 0 mention of wyll idk why TOT let me talk about my romantic companion pls
-also i had like 2 options to talk with romanced wyll and way more conver with astarion wich again i didnt even have very high on his love for me (i do love him and my chara frienenemy status tho) but why only 2 options for wyll i wanna talk with him moreeee at the end
-he did blow me a kiss it was the cutest thing tho
-Again idk if i got a bug but i never get anyone commenting on my relationship with wyll and i know the companions gossip about karlach and probs other charas >-<
-i heard a friend who had to kill karlach to get to see her gale ending so i tried in another save to see what happened (it was awful btw) and that was the only way to get an extra scene of wyll telling me to go for mizora and having other people aknowledge him in the epilogue (just with jaheira it lets me say wyll, with astarion and shadow heart they gave me answer like "oh im with my lover" and such instead of by name)
-i am a big fan of wyll but not so much of wyll missions, like they are fun to play but gosh i wanted the cool FEELINGS moments like lae'zel, shadow heart, astarion and karlach had, i feel he is straight up a classic hero tale and i want to see this man overwhelming with feelings of all the stuff he suffered. also more stuff with the dad idk i couldnt even tell him im with his son that could had been cool
-gale also feels like ???? he didnt have a proper mission and was like off screen wich is a bit weird to me ??
-my fav chara is wyll and then second lae'zel who is perfect 0 notes on her 100% increible. Then Do Not Make Me Choose for the other origin companions i cant. I love them so much. I didn't like astarion at first and i was like "really this is the man all my friends and everyone is obsessed about??" but then act 3 arrived and i was like Ah. I Get It Now. I would say my less fav is gale but because i didnt bring him anywhere so next game im def paying him more attention.
-anyways i could have some notes but in general i fucking loved this game so much TOT
#bg3#bg3 spoilers#karlach#lae'zel#wyll ravengard#now i wanna play the dark urge..... im gonna bring the charas i didnt bring that much before .........#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate iii
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Something in The Orange
“I’ve missed you…more than you’ll ever possibly understand.”
One-shot
Bakugou Katsuki X Female Reader
All characters aged up 21+
Minors DO NOT interact 18+
Unedited, sorry in advance.
******Flash Warning*******
Context: post breakup reunion, bad coping mechanisms, slight angst, sex, lewd behavior, language, make up, happy ending, and more.
It was cold, colder than you expected it to be. But the wind that nipped at your face didn’t bother you one bit. Actually if you really thought about it? It actually felt great, almost numbing. You don’t know why you kept coming here, couldn’t exactly put your finger on it. Maybe it made you feel better, even though this wasn’t your spot to begin with. Well wasn’t your spot alone. That now all feels like a distant memory, maybe even a dream.
Katsuki had shown you this spot one day after patrol, said he came here to watch the colors burn bright into the sky until it faded and the stars lit up the night. It was his peace after long and terrible days. Soon after it became your peace as well, a place to share together to forget the responsibilities you both carried on your shoulders. Even though this was a place of escape, you both couldn’t escape the hardships of being heroes.
Many missed dates, promises long forgotten, and the schedule differences started to put a strain on both of you. Eventually, this spot wasn’t peaceful anymore. Just a reminder of how much you both let things slip, instead of fighting for each other…you both barely shared a passing glance when together. Sooner rather than later, the effort was gone and you were strangers.
You tried to get back into your old routine, it was painful. You managed though, forgetting all about the spot that looked over the city. Forgetting the little bench you used to spend hours on speaking with Katsuki. That was until you’re accident. That goddamn accident, the accident that made everyone wary about you being a hero still. If only you saw that building coming down, got out of the way in time. You’d be kicking ass now. Instead you agreed to take the time off as “necessary” for you to “heal” properly, mentally and physically. Such a load of bullshit.
Now you find yourself back on this bench, looking out at the orange in the sky. A brown paper bag sitting comfortably next to you, instead of the person you used to spend all your hours with. Reliving memories that you wish you could go back in time for. Letting the air cool you while the alcohol burned your throat. Peaceful, it was kind of peaceful. Closing your eyes for a moment, you let your head lean back. That was until a familiar voice graced your ears. “Y/N…”
It wasn’t any secret that Katsuki wasn’t good at emotions or relationships. Many of his friends were happily surprised when you came into his life. He seemed happier, more full of light. So when you guys departed they felt his sorrow, felt his pain. Even worse, felt his rage. It wasn’t that the break up was bad, but a piece of him was missing. The small bit where he wasn’t an insufferable dickhead now ripped from him.
He did his best like you, trying to busy himself. Keep his mind elsewhere. So instead of coming to the bench when the sky was orange and beaming? He came back when the stars lit up the night sky instead. It was more quiet but his eyes longed for the beauty in colors that late afternoon could provide him. Something in the orange that made his mind melt into bliss. Which is where he found himself today, a day he found the most sufferable that he’s had in a long time.
His PR team only just informed him of your accident, after nearly two whole months. He was beside himself, actually livid. Damn near blew up his office at the news, thank god for Kirishima being there. If it wasn’t for his quirk and the sheer mass of him, no one would have been able to hold Katsuki back. His rage quickly died down to regret, guilt. Regret that he didn’t try to make the relationship work, guilt that he finds out you were hurt months later. He instantly went to snatch his phone, dialing your number by memory. Only to be met when the dreaded “number no longer in service” message.
He started to call your agency, but they refused to give your personal number out. Stating that you shouldn’t be bothered while trying to recover. He felt defeated, down right crushed at the fact that he messed things up so badly that you went and changed your number on him. The day only just kept going down from there, so after a horrid day he wanted to feel at ease. Making his way to the long forgotten spot, to see the colors dance in the sky before it turned to black. What he didn’t expect was for someone to be sitting on your side of the bench.
He stopped for a moment, looking at the back of your head. Ready to leave and just go home, wallow in his own misery in his house. But when your head went back, eyes closed…that’s when those thoughts flew out the window. His whole day…his whole goddamn day he was searching for you, only for the universe to literally present you to him in the glow of his favorite colors.
He couldn’t walk away now, he couldn’t just leave you there with all these feelings filling his chest while he looked over your features. Instead of being a coward, instead of giving up like he did before? He called out too you.
Your head shot up, whipping it around to see exactly who you knew it was going to be. Something ignited within you, pulling you up from the bench to move around it. You wobbled slightly, giving off that you more than likely just had a bit to much to drink. But he was right in front of you now, the person who made this place your peace long ago.
“Bakugou…?” You said almost breathlessly, and you saw him visibly cringe at the sound of his last name coming from your mouth. He was so used to “Katsuki” or “Suki” coming from you that sometimes he forgot he had a last name. But hearing you say it? Damn near broke his heart in two. He walked forward, coming to your aid as when you stepped forward your foot caught a bit of rock. Catching you just in time before you were just a drunken mess on the ground.
“Hey…it’s alright I got you.” He said softly, guiding you back to the bench. Once you both sat down, that’s when you really looked over each other. Months and months have been rough on both of you. Katsuki looked more tired than you ever remembered, bags under his eyes, and a slight reddening in the whites of them. He must have been crying today.
You on the other hand looked a mess, rosy cheeks from the cold. Hair a mess from the wind, and now that Katsuki was truly looking at your face? He noticed the remainders from your injuries. A scar coming over your left eye, somewhat pinkening from the healing process but your once beautiful eye color was now just present in your right eye. The one with the scar had a milky look to it, while your breath had the lingering scent of booze. It honestly killed him to see you this way.
“How are…how are you doing?” He asked, fear in his voice to even ask this question. He knew that answer, he knew that this was a baited question. But he just needed you to say more, bless his ears with the sound of your voice.
Your eyes had fire in them, looking at him with a narrowed expression before letting out a dry laugh. “Well…I’m here watching the sky turn to orange and red…drinking myself to death at the memories I had. How do you think?” You slightly scoffed, rolling your eyes while going to grab your bottle once more. But a large hand came to stop you, grabbing the bottle himself before tossing it over the side of the cliff. You gasped, ready for this fight you were about to have. “How fucking dare-” You were going to spit venom until he cut you off.
“Yes, I fucking dare. You’re not going to sit here and waste away. Fuck sake y/n…it’s freezing out here. You have no goddamn jacket you dumbass, your reek of booze, and not to mention…you’re still recovering.” The last part made you see red, made all those hated thoughts come rushing forward.
“Not that you actually fucking care! What do you see a helpless bystander and just have to be a hero about it?! I can take care of myself Bakugou, have been doing it since you goddamn left.” You spit back, you couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t hurt when he didn’t reach out after the accident. That he wasn’t by your side, like he had always been. I guess you expected more.
“I only found out about the accident today! No one fucking told me, when I found out I tried to fucking call you but your number wasn’t available. I called your fucking agency too but those bastards weren’t any help. Wouldn’t tell me where you were, how you were, not even give me your fucking number y/n. If I knew? I would have been there in a fucking second…I would have went to you!” Now it was his turn to get pissed, that you would think so little of him that he wouldn’t want to be there for you. It didn’t matter how long it had been, he still loved you with every fiber of his soul. Always wanted the best for you, with or without him.
Shock came across your face, even more so when you noticed the faint wetting in his eyes. He was truly upset by the fact he wasn’t there. Upset that he couldn’t get you through the worst time of your life. It brought tears to your own eyes, along with a slight sniffle. He hated seeing you cry, even more so when he’s the reason you’re crying. Instead of saying anything else, he just pulled you closer. Holding you tightly like he used to when days were hard on you.
“You-…you tried to reach out to me?” You said muffled into his chest as you felt him physically shake. All these emotions, all these memories started to flood you. You had been so used to being cold that you forgot how much his warmth heals you. Carefully wrapping your arms around his torso. “What happened to us.” You more muttered to yourself but you didn’t expect him to pull your face out of his chest to look you right in the eyes.
“We lost sight of what really mattered…” He voice was soft, calm with his words. “We fought over little things…stopped trying…we just thought there was nothing we could do. We could have done everything…I could have done more.” He always solely blamed himself for the downfall of your relationship. He carried that with him everyday, everyday since he didn’t come home. “Let’s go to my place…it’s freezing, you’re going to get sick.”
It felt almost awkward going back into his home, I smelt exactly the same. A slight burning smell with sugar, it smelt like home. You’re not sure what he was thinking bringing you here, but here you were anyways. Wether it was the alcohol or just your curiosity getting the better of you but you spoke before really processing it in your brain. “Did you ever miss me?”
This caught his attention, making him walk right up to you. Softly cupping your cheeks into his palms while absolute adoration glazed in his eyes while looking at you. “I’ve missed you…more than you’ll possibly ever understand. I shouldn’t have walked away…should have fought for us.” A thumb coming up to wipe away a tear that fell from your lashes. “I’m sorry…y/n…I’m so fucking sorry.”
You shook your head, bringing your own hands up to now cup his face. Mimicking his motion of wiping a tear from him now. “You aren’t the cause for everything…I could have done more too. God…Katsuki…I’ve missed you so much. I wish I did things differently, not gotten so mad over the stupidest things. I worked too…I knew we were always going to be pulled in several directions…I’m sorry.”
The sound of his name made him pull out of your hold, his heart picked up, cheeks as red as his eyes. In the long time you knew Katsuki, there was only ever two times you saw his face this red. When he asked you to be his girlfriend and the first time you had sex. It was a sight that wasn’t often shown but you marveled in it. Before you could say anything else, he pulled you in for a tender kiss.
The kind of kiss that was much needed, like finally coming home from being away. It was passionate, intense, and loving. It showed that both of you never stopped caring, not stopped loving each other. Even if there had been time apart for each other, maybe this was what was going to bring you back together.
Before you knew it, your back was flat on his bed. Hair splayed out around you while your body bounced a little against the sheets. To Katsuki, you never looked more beautiful than in this moment. The lust in your eyes, the quiver in your lower lip, and the soft sounds you made while he trailed kisses down the side of your neck. Goosebumps littering your skin as your stomach tightened. You wanted this, wanted this more than anything in the world.
“Please…Katsuki…don’t make me wait.” You said so full of lust and need. How could he ever say no to you? How could he deny you, when you ask so fucking good for him.
“I’ll never make you wait for me…not ever again.” Which that, clothes were quickly thrown about. Leaving you both bare for each other once again. Both taking a moment to take in everything that had been missing. Gentle touches and soft tongues gliding over skin until you were both truly ready. With Katsuki placed snuggly between your plush thighs, this length just barely rubbing against your entrance…he paused to look down at you.
“If we do this again? You’re going to have to deal with me the rest of your lives…okay?” He was nervous, very uncharacteristically so. You reached up, cupping his cheek to bring him in for a long, deliberate kiss. “I’m not going anywhere…” You said softly back at him.
He smiled into the kiss, pushing his head past your tight entrance to slowly, very slowly slip all the way into you. A perfect fit like usual, all you were made for him. A gasp coming from you, while Katsuki sighed. Moving his hips in and out at first with the pace of two lovers wanting to savor the moment, savor the feeling of warmth and wetness. Hips grinding against hips until Katsuki grunted. The breath taking pace that you had become used to started to pick up, making your legs wrap around his lower back.
“Fuck…” You sighed out, bringing your arms up to let your nails dig into his shoulders. Holding on for dear life, like if you let go he wouldn’t be there anymore. His hands dropped to the sides of your head, caging you in while the sheets started to burn under his grasp. “I know…baby…fuck- Princess…let go for me, yah?” He moaned softly out to you, he want to feel you lose yourself.
Whines and whimpers poured out of your mouth, your grip was tightening but the second while your body started to shake. Cunt clenching down hard around his cock, making him almost lose himself right in the moment but he wanted to watch you lose yourself first. “That’s it- that’s fucking it…cum Princess…fucking cum on this cock. Fuccck-shit cum Princess…ima-”
With his words, your eyes snapped shut. Head lolling back while your whole body tightened before it shook. Cumming around his cock, with Katsuki looking at your face the whole time. As he felt your cunt throb one more time, he shuttered. One…two…three more thrusts of his hips and he spilled his seed into you. Painting your insides a pretty white before stilling.
One last kiss placed on your lips, Katsuki slowly pulled out. Feeling how your overspent body was shaking, he quickly went to his bathroom. Gathering up supplies to clean you off, and grab clothes to get you ready for bed. Once you both were all set, cleaned up and covered by the silk of the sheets. You both just laid there for a moment, basking in the aftermath.
Turning on your side, you looked at Katsuki. He seemed happy, calm almost. “Did you mean it?”
He slowly turned to his own side, pulling you to his chest. A kiss was placed on the crown of your head. “Every fucking word, I love you.”
You felt a tear come to your eyes, but you weren’t sad. You were the happiest you’d been in so long. “I love you too.”
#Spotify#mha fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction#smut#mha smut#bnha#katsuki bakugo fluff#katsuki bakugo fic#bakugou smut#bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x fem!reader#bakugou katsuki#mha bakugou#reader#female reader#break up#make up#flashing gif#flash warning
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please please Lizzie NEEDS to win this. I understand she's up against katara and the atla fandom was INSANELY against aang x katara back in the olden days (and now she's doubly pushed aside for zukka) but. hear me out.
i admittedly can't really think of any yaoi ships with aang in them and idk if that just wasn't the side of the fandom i was in, but like. i feel like most people just disliked katara x aang on Principle rather than like, because she was Getting In The Way of a Yaoi(tm). so more of just like, a general fandom misogyny thing.
LIZZIE on the other hand. Oh my fucking god. I don't necessarily ship her romantically with ciel because they're both like, what, 14? and cousins? but holy SHIT their relationship is so deep and meaningful.
I'll try to keep this brief so that there's a chance people will actually read this. for some context ciel has a canonical engagement with lizzie— she's his fiance. ciel is also extremely traumatized, and kind of cold to her, and at the beginning of the series you kind of her the impression that he finds her slightly annoying or pestering, but especially as the series progresses you can see that he Cares a Lot about her. a while into the series it's revealed that Lizzie actively Noticed that ciel was suffering and traumatized and she took up swordfighting lessons. to protect him. she is KICKASS and she.... she tries to be cute and pretty most of the time so she doesn't scare him, but when she noticed he was in so much pain and that bad things happened to him she trained herself so that she could protect him. and she DOES protect him and it's fucking awesome. she loves him unconditionally and is completely prepared to give her all to defend him and make him feel safe in a world that has persistently hurt him so many times over. not necessarily romantic love but oh my god that devotion. (and he clearly cares for her and wants to give her the best in return and tries to keep all his dark secrets away from her to protect her from himself and. i just. ausvfhdghddbbdbcm.)
.... except, you know what everyone was talking about instead, in the early 2010s fandom? how ciel should have a romantic relationship with his butler, who is a very powerful demon he has explicitly sold his soul to and who is simply using him and keeping ciel in a miserable and hateful state for his own benefit. barely any positive word about Lizzie who is so fucking cool. admittedly maybe the book of the atlantic arc (where most of those reveals about lizzie were) hadn't come out yet at the time? but like the yaoi crimes against this girl are absurd. no one fucking talks about her!!! even though she is the BEST!!! please vote for my girl who is constantly portrayed as just a stupid ditzy annoying character in the fanon to be forgotten about at best, pushed aside or actively slandered at worst. please please she's so fucking cool
Black Butler season 4 is coming she deserves the win
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