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sugawarassoulmate · 1 year

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someone else tries to get with them

feat loser!kuroo, enemies to lovers!kita, and toxic!oikawa

part 1

cw: fem!reader

loser!kuroo

kuroo's body tensed the second one of them came close to him. he always hates these events — spending hours fake laughing at awful jokes to get on the good side of investors. his only joy is when you tag along, keeping prying eyes at bay.

but kuroo's found himself cornered by three women, all the much-too-young wives of some of his colleagues who were all taken with the handsome ceo.

"this suit looks amazing on you," one of them said. kuroo wanted to tell her that his wife picked out his outfit but before he could answer, another chimed in. "you just fill it up so well, have you been working out?"

his eyes flick over across the room, where you're standing with a quirked brow. you've calmed down a lot since marriage and don't explode with anger every time another woman so much as breaths near kuroo anymore. instead, you took a sip from your wine glass and gave him a look that said, "figure it out."

"can we get you a drink?" one of the other women asks as kuroo feels another pulling on his bicep. did they not see the wedding band on his finger? did none of them notice him walking into the room with you on his arm?

he starts sweating, eyes darting back to you and then the women. kuroo's so used to you taking charge and staking your claim on him but he can't allow you to be disrespected like this.

as one of the women tries to pull him in again, kuroo fights out of her grasp. "i'm married!!!" he blurted out, startling not only the women but a few people that were nearby. embarrassed that he raised his voice, kuroo cleared his throat. "sorry for yelling but i don't think it's appropriate for us to talk like this. i love my wife very much. have a good night."

kuroo makes his way toward you, a smug grin on your face. "so, you into ugly girls or something?"

"baby, please," he whines.

enemies to lovers!kita

you may have found kita absolutely insufferable but most people found him a joy to be around. he was kind and respectful to others. the kind of person that helps others without asking or walks old ladies across the street. it seemed as though kita didn't have an unkind word to say about anyone, except for you.

because of his benevolence, most people wanted to be around him. girls threw themselves at him, knowing that he'd be the type to spoil his significant other. that wasn't the annoying part — because you definitely didn't care about some dumb bimbo trying to get his attention. it was the older women who tried to set kita up with their daughters that irked you the most.

"you know, i have a daughter your age that you'd just be perfect for," or "do you have a girlfriend? my niece could really use a sweet boy like you, can i give her your number?"

even after explaining that he was too focused on his studies and helping his grandma with the farm to even think about dating, these women wouldn't take no for an answer.

"can you tell whoever's blowing up your phone to cut the shit?" you complained, growing tired of the constant buzzing.

kita rolls his eyes at your foul language. he doesn't bother looking at his phone as the two of you lock up the club room for the night. "one of my grandma's friends gave my number to her daughter and she keeps tryin' to set up a date," he says, bored expression never leaving his face.

"you're that down bad that you need your grandma's buddies to get a date?" you scoffed, trying to hide the fact that it may bother you just a little bit that there are so many people trying to get kita's attention.

perceptive as ever, kita catches onto your catty attitude. "she probably won't stop until i say yes to a date," he says nonchalantly, walking back onto campus.

he's only getting a rise out of you. what little free time kita has left from all of his other responsibilities goes to you—both of you know it's true, there's no reason to argue. still, you'd just die if you couldn't make a comment at his expense. "i mean if, sure, you're into ugly girls. this girl can't get a date on her own?" you rambled, stomping beside kita as you head back to your apartment. "but don't let me stop you. i know how much you love doing charity work."

"i won't go if you don't want me to," kita hums, holding the door open for you (1. because he's a gentleman, 2. because he knows it pisses you off.)

"i don't care what you do," you said back to him in a similar mocking tone.

that weekend, though, kita is at your place, where he usually spends most of his weekends. "your date was that bad, huh?" you said as soon as you open the door for him.

"i told her it wouldn't work out and deleted her number," kita answers, carefully removing his shoes and placing them neatly by your door. "i only have time fer important things." he makes direct eye contact when he says it before brushing past you to head to your bedroom.

kita's words stump you for a second, trying to figure out what he meant but soon, his irritating voice comes back, scolding you to hurry back and any thought you had before is forgotten as an insult leaves your lips.

toxic!oikawa

you felt terrible for being late. punctuality was something you always prided yourself on but your boss seemed to think differently, keeping you in the office for hours.

normally, you'd suck it up and accept that you had a shit day at work but you and oikawa had a date planned — one that took ages for both of you to set up.

the image of oikawa sitting at the restaurant alone broke your heart, so you practically raced over there, barely having time to change out of your work clothes.

"i'm so sorry, babe. my boss is such a dick and then the trains were slow—" you rambled as soon as you sat down, immediately asking for your boyfriend's forgiveness

"hey, slow down! it's okay, honey," he said, pushing a glass of wine across the table for you. "i know you didn't mean to be late. you're here now, that's what matters. i already ordered for the two of us."

he had every right to lay into you tonight. this was the perfect opportunity for him to be at his most dramatic, to really make you feel guilty for being late but he acted with a maturity you weren't used to seeing.

"i still feel bad that you were sitting here all by yourself," you said, reaching over to hold his hand.

oikawa shrugged. "well, i wasn't totally alone. our waitress kept me company while i waited."

you hate to say that the second he said "waitress" the alarm bells started ringing in your head. a handsome, young man like oikawa sitting alone in a fancy restaurant is like food on a silver platter for some of these vultures.

and you could only imagine how charming he must have been when the waitress comforted him about being by himself—smiling at her jokes and staring up at her with those warm brown eyes of his, completely unaware of that she would take it as an invitation.

you tried to swallow the bitterness down, not wanting to put a sour note on the night. you opened your mouth to speak but a grating sound stopped you.

"ohhhh, how good of you to finally show," said the high-pitched voice, dripping with faux concern. "i was worried you might have stood this poor man up."

oikawa laughs at the unfunny joke, clearly finding all of this amusing and she practically sparkles at the slightest hint of his approval. "i don't know how you'd ever let him out of your sight. any girl would just love to snatch him right up,'

his eyes glance over at you, ready to see how you'll react. oikawa just loves it when you get territorial of him and even though you've gotten better over the years, there's still that part of you that's always ready to claw someone's eyes out for thinking they could stake their claim on him.

"you're right, any girl would. in fact, many have tried and they've all failed," you smiled up at her, gripping oikawa's hand harder so she would have to take notice of it. "now be a dear and have our food ready soon, okay? i want to spend some time with my boyfriend."

with her tail between her legs, the waitress scurries from the table, muttering something about the food. oikawa laughs again, pressing a quick kiss to your knuckles. "my mean baby, you know you don't have anything to worry about, yeah?"

of course, you knew. you wouldn't be with oikawa if you didn't trust him but any girl who had the slightest inkling that she could lead your man astray had to be humbled—and oikawa would be lying if he didn't enjoy the possessive look you get in your eye.

"let's enjoy our dinner, babe."

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #kuroo x reader #oikawa x reader #kita x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyu headcanons #loser!kuroo #enemies to lovers!kita #toxic!oikawa #🥀#🥀kuroo #🥀kita #🥀oikawa

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ilikelookingatthings · 4 months

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Anyone else kind of hope in the next Trolls movie they might properly adress the trolls becoming Grey thing?

because in the first movie they make a point that Among all of the trolls in the village Branch is the only Grey one due to the trauma of feeling like it was his fault his granny died and he felt it was the music's fault because he lured the Bergans over because he wasn't paying attention. He avoided hug time and seemed to put up a front to push the others away...but by the end of the movie he was okay with hug time and was able to bring back everyone else's colors and got his colors which were much brighter back.

and we saw all the trolls go grey and demoralized when poppy got sarcastic and felt hopeless....but Branch was living in a relatively peaceful settlement for ages and wasn't doomed to be eaten and was atcvely doing his best to prepare and fight against those type of scenerios...so its not just the hopeless factor right?

but what I don't get is Branch goes from super grey to super bright blue...but then in the following movies he was bright but then got darker?

like on one hand in the second movie he felt a bit off to me because he was supposedly more positive due to not being grey anymore so felt like he had more difficulty calling poppy out..but what I don't get is he is clearly much darker in this third movie then he was before? what happened to his colors? why did no one bring it up?

like does it come and go? can he shift his colors now depending on how he feels? but we also saw how there WAS a bias about him being kind of weird and grey so why does him being greyier not get adressed by anyone if those bright colors f his were so hard won in the first movie?

also what about his brothers? I know its been a while since they've been around branch so they don't know the specifics about him being grey before(which feels odd they never brought up) but do they not think his colors aren't as bright as they used to be?

also his brothers' colors (aside from bruce/spruce and maybe clay's hair) seemed to be not as bright...like their bods seem to bathc but werent they all bright colored before on the body? did they just naturally fade?

did his brothers turn Grey at all?

cuz honestly it seem difficult to get a troll sad enough for them to be grey..let alone stay Grey...and considering all of troll villaige went through the trauma of having been systematically eaten for a LONG LONG time and the only Gray one was Branch...like maybe its because he was a impressionable child it stuck harder? but I have questions...

like they make a clear point that princess/queen Viva has strong similarities/paranoia to Branch but she also clearly hasn't lost her colors...is it because she was forcing herself to stay positive and be strong for the other trolls she was protecting? but what about Clay? he has bright hair but has his odd sad hut he was choosing as his room and is the one who seemed to be doing the fire exits and the like..and Viva seems way more traumatized....but they at least seemed to semi listen to him...

so is it a socialization things? like everyone in viva's kingdom still seemed on edge so Clay got to actually feel more listened to and included unlike how all of the trolls kind of brushd off all of branch's warnings due to his 'the red coats are coming' vibe and his dismissal of their choice to cope with trying to forget and move on?

Bruce/Spruce has the love of his life and his family with the muppets so still seemed pretty bright....but i'm definitly stll curious.

especially about John Dory...because he was the eldest child and he left but when he came back he literally thought EVERYONE had died...and he had no way to know if his other brothers were alive either. He seems to be pretty upbeat honestly with some similar vibes to Poppy...but he definitely seems duller...but we know branch turning grey definitely was connected to seeing the grandma die/be taken...but also since most of the trolls had to deal with the bergens they all must have lost someone at sometime to the Bergens but they weren't Grey....but if Branch turned Grey over the grandma...its hard to imagine John Dory NOT turning Grey afetr thinking every troll he knew was dead including grandma and bitty B and most probably his other brothers...

but did he get his colors back recently after hearing about branch and teh pop trolls after they were discovered in the second movie after complete isolation? or was it earlier due to taking care of his catterpillar bus?

like...I'm kindof curious about how they can adress the grey aspect.

though I am applauding the implication of them showing the hug time aspect isn't just for socialization and care...it seems to be a biological need as basically having all his energy sucked out/talent...floyd came back to life after they were all around him giving him a hug...it wasn't even a 'spray my talent on him to see of it would bring him back' thing...it was literally hugs that saved flyod which gets so interesting thinking about all the other hug times as well as the affects on branch who avoided hug times as much as possible when he turned grey...also...how come we don't really see the other genre's of trolls with the hug time braclets...

also was it just me or were the trolls using their hair less in the third movie?

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elly99 · 10 months

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Cool With You

Contains swearing and revolves around anxiety.

Kim Minji for Vogue Korea. She glowed through your screen, as she did in real life, in stark contrast to the shadows rippling on your walls as you scrolled through the article. Her new song was on repeat. Quiet, but enough to fill the emptiness of the room. She was beautiful, you thought.

"My grandma always asks if I'm having a hard time and if I'm having fun. I didn't think much of it before. It just seemed like a normal way to ask how I was doing. But now, whenever I hear it, I reflect on myself a little more and my heart warms up, too. So I also try to ask the important people in my life the same thing. 'Have you been having a hard time? Are you happy?'"

You hear the words in her voice. She was so sweet, you thought.

Then the end of the song. A brief moment of complete silence before it repeats. A brief window for another voice to cut through.

Have you been having a hard time? Are you happy?

Your own. In your head.

Yes, you are having a hard time. You haven't been happy in months.

"Not again! I was just reading a fucking interview! What the fuck is wrong?"

If you're so important to her, why hasn't she asked you the same thing?

"Just stop. Just stop."

You're losing it. I know you are. I know you.

The song starts back up. It goes, "You know me like no other," but you didn't know who was talking anymore.

"No, I'm fine! I'm fine. I swear I'm..."

Suddenly the darkness of your room felt suffocating. You stand up quickly to turn on the light. But when you do the clarity is equally uncomfortable. All your insecurities, your fears, your worries in plain sight. You just want to hide. Turn off the light again. Sit back down.

"Ok, this is fine! I know how to deal with this. Just breathe slowly. Deep breaths through the nose. And count. One. Two."

Three. Four. Five. All this counting but when will you get your life together?

"Three. F-f-our..."

You try to get the words out but your lips won't cooperate. You can't feel them anymore. Just a tingling over your face. So instead you scream. In anger. Where is this coming from? Why couldn't you stop it? This didn't make sense. Stop feeling this way. This is stupid. Just be normal, you thought.

Of course it doesn't make sense. You're fucked up. You know that. Everybody does. Don't try to rationalize it because you won't be able to. You're not good enough for that.

You can't feel your legs. You can't feel your hands struggle to pick up your phone.

Wow. Are you really going to ask her to come over now? She's busy. Probably exhausted. The album is coming out tomorrow. Why the fuck would you bother her?

"Hey, babe! What's up?" The sound of her voice tethers you to the ground for a moment. Holds you close in the dark room.

"Minji, I... Hi!" You feign composure. But your chest was aching. "I-I'm good! I just wanted to hear your voice. H-How are you? Are you busy?"

"Well, I just got back from work..." she trails off. "Are you ok, baby?"

You're suddenly aware of your breath hitching. And you know she hears it, too. There was no point pretending. You needed her right now.

"Min... could you come over, please? I... can't..."

"Ok, I'm on my way." You hear her voice jump. Then her footsteps. She's running. "Baby, listen to me, ok? I'm on my way. Count down from 100 very slowly. And breathe deeply. If I'm not there yet, just count down again but I promise I'm coming. I love you."

She was so sweet, you thought, as your hands lost their grip on the phone. You smiled with tears running down your face.

"100. 99. 98. 97."

You know that's pointless right? The more techniques you use to try and stop it, the more you'll just remind yourself that you're a mess.

"96. 95. 94. 93."

Look at you go.

You clench your fists. Then your teeth. You still couldn't feel either of them.

"92. 91. 90. 89. 88."

You focus on breathing. Slowly. Lie down on the sofa and stare at the ceiling.

"59. 58. 57. I like 57."

You heard no reply. You felt calm. But you could never be too sure.

"17. 16. 15. 14."

Almost there. Where is she?

Shit. Focus. You shut your eyes and start whispering forcefully.

"She'll be here. 13. 12. 11. 10. 9. 8."

You hear your door unlock. Open your eyes and quickly stand up. A little too quickly. Your legs are still numb and you stumble. But she's there to catch you.

"I'm here, baby. I'm here. I brought our bear, too. Look!"

You look up and there she was. Your girlfriend and your bear. And the stuffed toy you both loved. She was smiling but her eyes were drowning in concern. She was so beautiful, you thought. She came all this way, carrying a huge toy, in the rain, after a very busy and tiring day, just for you. She was so sweet. She was so good to you.

She's too good to you. She's too good for you. You don't deserve this. You're not beautiful like her. You're not kind like her. You'll wear her out.

You couldn't take it anymore. You burst into tears in her arms. Breathing short and shallow.

She wraps one arm around you to pat your back and uses her other hand to pull your head towards her, stroking your hair softly.

"Baby, it's ok! I'm here now. I'm here. You're going to be ok."

You feel the warmth of her words penetrate the chaos of your mind. But there was still so much to get through. So much you were still feeling. Still so far from the ground. You cling to her tightly in desperation.

"Just hold on to me, ok? I'll take you to the couch. Let's go. Take your time."

She lifts you slightly. Not enough to carry you but enough to aid your trembling legs. She lies down first and beckons you to stay next to her.

"Come here. Let me spoon you, baby."

You do as you're told. Anything to keep you grounded. You knew her arms were the safest place in the world.

"Let's look at the ceiling together, ok? We've done this before. Tell me five things you can see in the room."

"Well... there's the ceiling... and the walls..."

"Mmhmm..."

"The door..."

"Yeah... that's three."

"I see your hands."

"Ok. One last thing."

"But you have two hands."

You can't see her face but you could tell she was smiling. She kisses your cheek.

"One more thing, babe."

"I see... your music video still playing on my laptop."

"Great. Ok. How about four things you can feel?"

"I can feel your hands. Your breathing. Your voice when you speak. And your warmth."

"I'll always keep you warm, babe." She kisses your cheek again. "Ok, now tell me three things you can hear."

"I can hear you. I can still hear Cool With You. And the rain outside."

"Now two things you can smell."

"Umm... I can smell your perfume." You pull a bunch of her hair close to your nose. "And your shampoo."

"Do you like the scent?"

"I do. I thought you didn't usually wear perfume, though."

"I felt like it today." Another kiss on the cheek. "Ok, for the last step, I came prepared. I brought chocolate. It's my superpower after all." She takes a small bar of chocolate out of her pocket and puts it in your hand. "What's one thing you can taste?"

"I taste this magic chocolate bar made by my Powerpuff Girl. This is really good actually."

"You must be hungry, baby. Want me to order food?"

"Yes, please."

After all that you're gonna make her order food?

You flinch. She knew what that meant. She holds you tighter.

"Hey, you're ok. Nothing to worry about. Just your girlfriend buying her favorite bunny some dinner."

She holds her phone in front of both of you. "What do you wanna eat, bunny?"

Even making simple decisions was hard. You flinch again. She holds you steady.

"Ok, ok. I'll choose for you." A kiss on the other cheek. "Done."

You feel yourself melting into her. Her warm embrace calming the storm in your mind just a little.

"Minji... thank you so much for this. For everything. For just being you. I don't know what I'd do without you..."

"Anything for you, baby. You know I love you, right?"

"I do. It's just I... Sometimes I don't believe it. Like, I'm just..."

She sits up and turns you towards her.

"Shhh. I know what you're going to say. Don't let that part of you even have a voice, babe. It doesn't deserve any space in your beautiful brain. We need to shut it out. Whenever it gets in the way, just listen to my voice. And even when I'm not around, I'm right here in your heart. Remember my words. You just have to listen."

"Minji..."

"And remember, when you feel that anxiety building, find where it is, grab it and throw it away. Just the act of physically trying to pull that anxiety out of your body can help. Even if it's not something you can really feel with your hands, the effect is real. You learned this, remember? You can do it. I love you so much. Ok?"

"Ok..."

She hugs you tight again.

"Let's talk about something else! Did you like Cool With You?"

The shift in her tone briefly lifts your mood.

"I loved it! It was soooo good. So cool. You're so cool, babe!"

"Aw, thanks, honey! We worked really hard on it. Glad you enjoyed!"

"You always work so hard..."

The way you trail off lets her know what you're really thinking. What you were about to say. Again she knows just what to do and cuts you off with another question.

"Are you excited for the rest?"

"Of course! I'm excited for anything you do."

"And I'm excited to share it with you! I like sharing my life with you."

Slowly she was pulling you back down. You were almost there. You begin to remember what normal conversation was like. For a while you lie in silence. Nothing but the sound of the rain and the song still on repeat on your laptop. But you can still hear faint thunder in the distance. Both outside your apartment and in your head.

"Do you mind me asking what the trigger was tonight? You know I just wanna help."

"I was just reading your Vogue interview while listening to the new song and somehow it all just came crashing down. It never really makes sense when it starts. But I was just reading how you said you wanted to ask the important people in your life if they were having a hard time and if they were happy. It just triggered a spiral of thoughts. Immediately I was reminding myself I wasn't happy."

"So... it was me?" The sadness in her voice hits hard.

"No, no! Of course not, baby. It's all me. My biggest insecurity is that I'm just this ugly, unhappy person just dragging you down. Like, why can't I be happy like you? Why don't I have my life together the way you do? I can't help but compare cuz you're just so amazing and out of this world to me. And that's not on you. That's just something I have to work out myself."

"Hey, no..." She tries to stop you but it all comes rushing out.

"And you're so pretty. You're so sweet. You're so talented and successful. Like, there's literally nothing to fault about you. You just feel so perfect and I just feel so inadequate next to you. That's why sometimes my brain gets in the way and doesn't believe that you could love me."

You notice tears start to form in her eyes.

"I really hate when you talk like that about yourself. It hurts. Cuz you'd never talk like that about me. Or anyone else for that matter. Why be so hurtful to yourself..."

"I know, baby. I just can't help it..."

"No. You can help it." Her voice was firm now. "We'll work on it together. Do it for yourself. And for me, too. Because it hurts when you refuse to see why I love you and why there's so much to love about you."

"I know you love me. It's just that I get so scared all the time that you'll get sick of me or I'll just drag you down because I've been a mess lately. I want to be good enough for you but faking confidence or pretending I'm ok doesn't really work."

"But you are good enough! I know you haven't been well lately but you've always gone above and beyond for me. The word inadequate shouldn't even be in the same universe as you. And it's ok to be a mess! It's ok to not know where you're going yet. I just found my career very young but that has nothing to do with how good you are and how successful you can be. We may have different paths but that's ok! We're in this together. I'm with you to the end, ok?"

You knew she was right. But it was just so hard. As you nod weakly in agreement, she pulls you in for another hug. She speaks more slowly now. Gentle and caring. You feel her voice reverberate in your chest.

"I'm so excited for your future. You may not see it yourself but I know you're gonna be amazing. Because you are amazing. You just need to trust yourself, baby. The real you. The one who knows all the reasons you're wonderful and why I love you. Do you want me to remind you?"

She pulls away with a smile on her face. Her smile that could outshine a thousand galaxies. Her smile that could comfort you a million times over.

"Actually, you have no choice. I'm going to remind you. Let me spoon you again."

You eagerly oblige, falling quickly into the safety of her embrace.

"Close your eyes and just listen to my voice, ok? So, do you remember when you first came to Korea? When we first became friends and you learned Korean in a year just for me?"

"Yeah."

"What does that say about you?"

"I don't know..."

"You do know. It means you're smart, hardworking and dedicated. And a sweetheart. Now you say it to yourself."

"I... um... what do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. Say it to yourself like you're complimenting a friend."

"I'm smart, hardworking and dedicated."

"Don't forget the last part."

"And I'm a sweetheart," you say, blushing.

"Yes, you are! Now remember when you started having a hard time and you reached out for help? You went to therapy and shared with me everything you learned there and what you talked about? You were at your most vulnerable and you still shared everything with me. That takes strength and courage."

"I have strength and courage." You pause. "This sounds cheesy."

"No, you're doing a great job, babe. Just keep going. Ok, now, remember when I was a trainee, whenever I'd have super long days, you'd come over to my place just to drop off some coffee or my favorite ice cream? What does that say about you?"

"I'm thoughtful and caring," you say, smiling this time.

"Good! You did it without me telling you. That's your confidence building! And do you remember all the gifts you got for me, my members and my family? There's too many to count."

"Does that mean I'm kind and generous? This feels weird. This just feels like I'm showing off."

"But who are you talking to?"

"You."

"No, you're talking to yourself. I've heard you give all these compliments to me before. And many more. Now you're just complimenting yourself. And it's not like you're lying to yourself. You know everything is true. You just need to be confident and admit it to yourself out loud. Take care of yourself like you take care of me all the time, ok? Be kind to yourself like you're kind to everyone around you. You need to be your friend, too."

"I'll try. But doesn't it sound like showing off? Like I'm too proud of myself?"

"You're just reassuring a friend! Telling them all the ways they're worth loving. It's not like you're going around telling everyone how good you are."

"Is this how you're always so confident, babe?"

"I guess!"

"You're incredible."

"So are you! Incredibly cute I might add."

You're blushing again. In the dark she couldn't see it clearly, but she knew you well enough to know that you were. Somewhere in the room the song repeats again.

"Do you feel cool with me, baby?"

"I really do, Min. You really do know me like no other. The way you helped me tonight - it's like you could read my mind. It's just like you said. 'What's the best?'"

"너의 옆에 내가 있을 때."

"Exactly. When you're here with me I feel safe."

You open your eyes. Saying those words out loud was the last thing you needed. You landed. She brought you all the way back. You were home. And she could tell by the way you were smiling.

"I'll always be here for you." She smiled in return. "Cuz I know you're always there for me, bro."

The first chuckle out of you that night.

"How are you feeling, baby?"

"I think I'm good, Min. Thanks again. You're the best. The best thing that's ever happened to me. I love you so fucking much."

"Then don't swear at me, bro!"

The first real laugh out of you that night. And she echoes it.

"Do you hear me, baby? Do you hear me laughing with you?"

"I do."

"You hear just me?"

"Yes. Just you."

"Do you see me? Focus on my eyes."

You turn around to look at her and see the way her eyes sparkle with encouragement. Her endearing smile pulling you out of the dark. Into the light with her.

"I see you." You smile. "But it's a bit blurry cuz I've been crying."

"That's ok! Can you feel my hands?" she asks as she gently takes both your hands in hers and caresses them slowly. "I've missed holding your hands."

"I can feel you. But my fingers are still a little tingly. And shaky."

She pulls your hands towards her and kisses both. "That's ok, too." She smiles again. "And you know, we listed reasons to love someone, but at the end of the day, love isn't a rational thing, either. The strongest love has no reason. Who knows why we fall in love? All I know is that I fell in love with you because you're you. And that'll always be reason enough for me."

#minji x reader #minji #minji new jeans #kim minji x reader #newjeans x reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 11 months

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Will I Be The Asshole if I don't go visit my grandma in what is likely her final year(s)?

It seems kind of obvious but hear me out.

So I haven't gone to see my grandma since before 2020. She lives 4 hours away, and as a kid I'd see her twice a year. My mom keeps pestering me to go and see her because she's starting to decline and it may be my last chance.

My reasons for not wanting to go:

This discussion usually happens around Thanksgiving. Because my grandma usually hosts thanksgiving. But I do not like my mother's family, and going to Grandma's for Thanksgiving means having to interact extensively with the Aunts who criticize me, the uncles that bully me, and the cousins who are all older than me and just kind of ignore me. Throw in the conservative political views vs my flaming liberal takes, it's miserable for me. Absolutely destroys me mental health. I'd rather have Thanksgiving with my found family.

I've also been told that she's really not the same anymore. She's declining rapidly mentally and is apparently not the same woman she used to be. And I'm a little afraid of that. Because right now I can remember her as she was last time I saw her. Sweet and trying to feed everyone and maybe a little judgy but still my grandma. I don't know what she'd be like now but some of the stories I'm hearing makes me kinda nervous. I'm not sure if she'd recognize me and I don't want to go through that pain.

She also apparently doesn't like having guests over. It stresses her out because she's getting confused and not knowing what's happening or who people are. So if the rest of the family is already adding stress by invading her house for Thanksgiving, I don't want to as well.

My mom is acting like I'm the worst for not going to Thanksgiving but... I don't know I just can't force myself to go. I don't want to be tormented by mom mom's brother and her sisters-in-law, if much rather be around people who actually love me. But I feel bad for not seeing my grandma.

So will I be the asshole if I don't go see my grandma before she passes?

Info: I've tried to arrange a time to go down to see her when the rest of the family won't be there and that's when my mom goes "well having company stresses her out so it's maybe not the best idea," like literally the only time my mom wants me to go down is when the whole family is there and grandma is already stressed

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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stereklyrics · 1 year

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Season 1 au where Stiles and Lydia are step siblings and they always knew about the supernatural, because Lydia's grandma never hid from her that she was a Banshee and trained her and Stiles' mom never hid magic from him and trained him for as long as she could and left him some books and diaries so he could keep practicing his magic, so when Stiles hears about the dead body, he goes to the Preserve with LYDIA because they protect Beacon Hills together, so in the Preserve they go and run into the Alpha and they're like "Fuck" Stiles uses his magic so they both can escape, and they find Laura's body so Stiles just calls his dad like "Oh hey dad, so we're here in the Preserve and we just found the other half of the body!" and the Sheriff is like "Wait... We? Who's we? Stiles who's with you? " and Lydia just grabs Stiles' phone and says "It's me, I'm the 'we'. But you better hurry, because there's a mountain lion hunting us here, that's why we found the body in the first place" and the Sheriff just hurries because both of his kids need him, so after it's all solved he reprehends both of them, and they're like "Sorry"

The next day, they go back to see if they can get something else from the scene to see if there's something useful to identify the Alpha so they can go and confront this Alpha, so while Lydia is using her "Bansheeness" to see of that helps them somehow, Stiles is watching over her to protect his sister in case the Alpha comes back, but he sees Derek instead and he knows Lydia can't be interrupted while she's all Banshee so he just walks to Derek and Derek says "This is private property" and Stiles replies "Sorry, we didn't know, but you see, my sister over there is a Banshee and can't be interrupted while doing her Banshee thing, so as soon as she's done with that we'll leave" Derek is confused as fuck as why this boy was telling him this and why the fuck this boy wasn't scared of him, when he tried his best to scare these people away of his property. Stiles says "And btw, I know you're not an Alpha, so you're not the one we're looking for" and then Lydia calls him and they leave the Preserve, while Derek is still confused as fuck about what the fuck that boy was talking.

When Stiles and Lydia arrive home they go straight to the basement; which is like their HQ, so they have everything there like their books, diaries, weapons, etc; and Lydia tells Stiles "It seems like we're looking for someone who was in coma until recently" and Stiles is like "Okay... But Derek Hale is back in the town." and Lydia is like "Oh? How do you know that?" Stiles replies "The guy I was talking to when you were in your Banshee hypnosis or whatever? Yeah, that was definitely Derek, I think I would remember my childhood best friend" Lydia is shocked and says "You never told me you knew the Hales!I feel betrayed!" to which Stiles replies "Yeah, Talia was my mom's best friend. I never told you because I didn't think it was important, since Derek and Laura just ran out of the town without even saying goodbye and Peter is in a coma, and everyone else is dead so... " and Lydia goes "Wait... Peter Hale is in a coma?" Stiles says "Yeah...You don't think...? " to which Lydia replies "I think we may have found our Alpha". So they make a plan, but first they have to convince Derek to help them... Which they eventually do, when Derek remembers who Stiles is.

So they go and make the plan happen. Derek's the Alpha now, he has Stiles and Lydia in his pack. Stiles and Lydia choose Isaac, Erica and Boyd for the Werewolf betas, Derek trusts on Stiles and Lydia with that, so he offers the trio the bite, they all accept. Stiles is always there for Derek, helping him with being a good Alpha, with the training and everything. Eventually Stiles and Derek start dating, and with that Stiles becomes the Alpha Mate. Boyd is Derek's second, Lydia is the Emissary. They all protect Beacon Hills, it's not just Stiles and Lydia anymore. Peter is, eventually, resurrected and they find out about Malia and bring her to their pack. They find out Cora's alive, and bring her to their pack.

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airi-p4 · 8 months

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Spark joy

Hi! I wrote a new short fic. It's the one I shared for this past Six Sentence Sunday.

Enjoy?

Summary:

When Alya and Sabine scold Marinette, she finally cleans up and tidies her room.

…and her heart.

AO3

_____________________________

It all started with her best friend's comment:

"Girl, I have no idea how you plan to find anything in this mess! No wonder you lose and forget everything!"

…Which her mother's scolding seconded:

"Marinette, what's with this mess!? I know it’s summer vacation but you should tidy up your room. C'mon! Clean it up!"

"But-" the girl tried to protest, but was interrupted.

"If you don't, then I'll do it myself. And I'll throw away whatever I feel like. Don't come crying to me if you miss something!"

Marinette knew from the hands on her hips, the annoyed brows and the threatening tone, that she was being serious.

"No, please! Don't throw anything away! I'll do it!"

"Tomorrow is Sunday. I want to see everything clean and tidy by the end of the day!"

"Okay…"

___

They were both right: her room was untidy.

A total mess.

But how was she supposed to tidy up her room? All cupboards, drawers and boxes were already stuffed. Where was she supposed to put all her new staff in these conditions?

A visit to Mylene's house that Saturday afternoon gave her a completely new impression.

Minimalistic. Green. Tidy.

Pretty.

"Wow, Mylene. Your room is so clean and tidy!" Marinette admired it, looking around. "How do you always keep it so nice?"

"Have you ever heard of 'the life-changing magic of tidying up'? Or Marie Kondo?"

Mylene opened her eyes with a new vision of the world.

___

The main idea of Mylene's advice to tidy up her room was easy:

You ask yourself a question about a certain item: "does it spark joy to you?"

If the answer is "yes," it stays, if the answer is "no," it goes away.

Moreover, it is important to take notice of how your body reacts to the object.

Tidying up with this method consists of repeating this process until only items that spark joy remain.

Simple.

Even Marinette should be able to do it.

She decided to try it out.

Back at home, she started with the items on her desk.

The sewing machine, the fabrics, the accessories, the glitter, the buttons, the measuring tape, the scissors… all the sewing tools and supplies- they all sparked joy. They were clearly staying.

Her school books and homework… they didn't spark joy. But those were obligations- responsibilities-, just like her earrings. She couldn't throw them away (even if she secretly wished to sometimes).

Her drawing tools and crafting materials; stickers, washi tapes, patterned paper and sketchbooks… They were all surely staying. So much joy in drawing and designing!

She continued looking around when her little friend approached.

"What about this, Marinette?" Tikki asked, carrying a dusty exotic mask around. "I don't think you need this…"

"No! Don't throw it away, Tikki!" She quickly grabbed it. "I got this from one of grandma Ginna's trips! I have to keep it!"

"Does it spark joy, then?"

"It does! Well, not exactly, but we had a welcome party for her that day, and papa baked a cake that day. It brings back good memories!" She fondly recalled. "The mask stays. And so do all of granny Ginna's souvenirs!"

"What about Ginna's candy…?"

"Oh- Ugh… I thought I had gotten rid of all of them…" she made a disgusted expression. "Definitely doesn't spark joy. We're throwing them. It's not a secret anymore that I don't like them so…"

"That's true," Tikki nodded, throwing the candy inside the trash bin.

Marinette moved to her cupboard next.

"All my clothes obviously stay!"

"Aren't these too small for you, Marinette?" Tikki asked at the sight of child sized outfits.

"They are, but I plan to reuse them for creating new pieces of clothing- giving them a second life. There's that '3R: recycling, reuse and reduce' event that Mylene promotes coming soon. We gotta do what we can to save the planet!"

Tikki nodded with a grin, and proceeded to imitate Marinette's arms in a cross shape pose, ready to say a tv program's motto in unison:

"Little changes are powerful!"

They laughed together as they continued tidying up.

___

"My bed!" Marinette jumped, wiggling her legs. "The cat plushie is obviously staying!" She hummed happily. "And the books and the night light too!" She collected and put them back on the shelf.

"Comfy" Tikki muffled snuggling the long cushion.

Marinette giggled at her cuteness.

“Should I throw my alarm clock away…?” she asked, cheekily. “Marinette, don’t!”

“I’m joking, Tikki!” She laughed at the kwami’s protest.

"Okay, next is-"

Her heart skipped a beat, and suddenly, her mood dropped- body tense and mouth turning into a flat line.

"What's wrong, Marinette?" Tikki asked. But then she looked where Marinette was staring at and she understood.

The cork board… and the photos.

"Oh…"

Adrien's photos had been there for a long time. Since that rainy day when he gave her his umbrella and that thunder struck some months ago- and when she (and her friends, including Tikki) had convinced herself that it had been love at first sight, just because of a nice one-time gesture.

Since then, she had done some crazy things to get Adrien's attention- some on her own and some others encouraged by others- all of them with the same result: a fiasco. Only embarrassment and humiliation from her part.

It was tiring.

Plus the model boy had never paid special attention to her anyway…

Well, except-

The lucky charm Adrien gave her for her birthday.

Right- she hadn't cleaned up that drawer yet…

He did put effort into it, since it was handmade.

For a "friend," he had said.

It was so obvious he didn't feel anything more for her.

The current question was: "Do these photos spark joy?"

She went into deep thought.

"Marinette? What are you thinking?"

"Tikki, I think… I think Adrien's photos do not spark joy"

"What?"

"I can't recall what's good about Adrien anymore, Tikki. All the girls' plans to get closer to him always fail and I get humiliated or embarrassed in front of him and everyone else as a result. People think I’m crazy… Geez- I can't even articulate a single word or talk to him like a normal person at all!" She sighed. "And after the failure with the statue at the wax museum…" that was probably the last straw. Too much. A turning point.

Tikki looked at her in concern.

"I don't know, Tikki. I think loving Adrien doesn't spark joy to me anymore. At all"

"But, Marinette-!" The kwami gasped.

"You've just seen it, Tikki! Whenever I look at these photos, my mood darkens and I get sadder, anxious, uncomfortable-" she took a deep breath. "Yes, both these photos and going after Adrien do not spark joy" she looked at Tikki. "I'm getting rid of the photos"

"Are you sure…?"

"I'm sure"

"What about the lucky charm? Are you going to throw it away, too?"

"I don't know… I think I'll keep it. At least for now? I hate throwing presents and gifts away, honestly. I even keep all of Manon's ugly drawings and stones or sticks she picked up at the park because I'd feel bad for throwing them away! So I'll keep the lucky charm hidden in a drawer as a birthday present from a classmate, nothing more"

"You know what, Marinette?"

"Hm?"

"I think this might be one reason why you're so untidy! You can't throw away the presents you've been given!"

"Tikki!" Marinette pouted at the kwami's laugh before joining her. "I think you're right…" she added, remembering a messy little pottery figure Kim gave her many years ago lying somewhere deep inside a drawer. Was it a dolphin? A snake? A monkey? Perhaps a pigeon…? Why did she even keep it if she had no idea what it was supposed to be?

Yes, Tikki was absolutely right about her incapacity to keep her room tidy…

"Let's get rid of these photos first. I think it's time to tidy my heart as well"

Tikki didn't question her- she could tell that the girl had set her resolve. Supportively, she helped her remove and throw them away.

___

With Adrien's photos gone (except the one with the whole class), Marinette could finally smile while looking at her corkboard.

Photos of her with her best friend, Alya, the girls, her friends and classmates, her family, and-

It took her few seconds to realize the extra spark a certain photo caused her:

Luka

This amazing, patient boy who was always there for her, who had been nothing but respectful and nice towards her and sometimes it even felt like their minds and hearts were completely in sync. A boy who was sweet, caring, that made her laugh and, more importantly, a true friend. Maybe a bit more than that since he… he had confessed his feelings for her some time ago- with the most beautiful words she had ever heard. She blushed at the memory, her heart beating faster.

That alluring revelation had made her happy.

Very happy.

And so, looking at Luka's photo felt like-

Joy.

A great amount of joy.

Fireworks.

He never failed to bring a smile to her face (and redness to her cheeks, too).

"I guess this certain photo does spark joy, then?" Tikki teased her human friend.

"Tikki!" She flustered.

"I guess it stays?"

"Yes, it stays. He absolutely stays" Marinette smiled warmly at his image.

That's right, he had been busy lately and barely met up or talked. She didn't want to interrupt his summer music course but…

She missed him.

Maybe- she could try to give him a call…? Or send him a message?

Yes, that would be nice.

A warm smile spread on her face as she typed.

'Hi Luka'

'I know you're busy with your music course and I hope I'm not disturbing you but I was wondering if you had time to talk…?'

'I mean-!'

'It doesn't have to be now! Just whenever you find the time? If you feel like it?'

Was this okay? What if she'd just disturbed him? She didn't have time to overthink it since a new message arrived on her phone.

'Hello, Marinette'

'You're not disturbing me'

'And for you, I can always make the time'

'What's up? :)'

Gosh- she loved that about him… And his eyes… and his smile..

Wait- don’t get distracted!

Focus, Marinette!

‘I wanted to tell you something,’ she texted.

Luka: ‘Sure. What is it?’

Marinette: ‘You spark joy’

Luka: ‘???’

Luka: ‘I spark joy?’

Marinette: ‘Yes!’

Marinette: ‘A lot of joy!’

Luka: ‘???’

Luka: ‘What’s this about?’

Luka: ‘What am I missing…?’

Luka: ‘I can almost hear you giggling on the other side of the phone’

He wasn't wrong. She was giggling.

This boy lived on the Liberty, a houseboat that was a hundred times untidier and messier than her own room. She didn't expect him to know much about tidying up- even though she knew he and his sister Juleka secretly cleaned when Anarka was out.

Besides, Marinette really couldn't picture the Captain asking herself if all that junk she had around sparked joy- the image alone was very funny in her head.

Luka: ‘So you're really not going to tell me? I'm curious now’

Marinette: ‘Fine, I'll tell you’

Marinette: ‘But only if you agree to go out with me the next day you’re free!’

Gosh-! She did it! She asked him out!

Luka: ‘Sure. I'd love to’

Luka: ‘I'm free on Wednesday’

Marinette: ‘Wednesday it is!’

Luka: ‘Cool :)’

Marinette: ‘It's a date ;) ’

…

There was a long pause.

Did she break him (hopefully)? Was he squealing like she had just briefly done after sending the message? Kicking his feet as she did too, a moment ago? Or maybe he was more the type to yell at the pillow…?

She didn't scare him, did she…?

Her heart was beating fast with anticipation.

And his reply arrived.

It was a short audio with some happy guitar notes.

Luka: ‘Great!’

Luka: ‘I’m looking forward to it! :D ’

She giggled happily as Tikki hugged her.

Marinette: ‘I'll bring macarons!’

Luka: ‘Awesome!’

He sent another audio, this time longer, filled with more happy guitar tunes.

Both of their silly smiles didn’t leave their faces for the rest of the day.

By the evening, her room was clean and tidy to Sabine's surprise and delight.

What Marinette’s mother didn’t know yet was that her heart was also clean and tidy, probably even more than her room. At some point, she should really throw away all these useless presents she still collected… Sooner rather than later, probably.

It still amazed her how, with just the removal of a few photos, her heart felt much happier and lighter, filled with a great amount of joy towards a wonderful blue-haired boy as she excitedly awaited their date on Wednesday.

Little changes were powerful, indeed.

Fin

#my fic #airip4 #lukanette fic #endgame lukanette

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beomgyw · 2 months

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HOMEBOUND TRAIN

GIF by baeefox

you chose the guitar

you've unlocked a new timeline !! remember that each decision generates more alternative realities, so choose wisely.

if you're new here, go back to the beginning !!

standing in the snaking line to board the train, you can't help but notice the sea of people around you. it's like a mini migration, all headed to geoje-ssi, your hometown. and rightfully so, it´s a beautiful place.

you remember it to be an attractive vacation spot. memories flood back of your childhood, surrounded by tourists snapping photos and getting under your grandma's skin with their incessant chatter. she never missed a chance to curse them under her breath.

as the line inches forward, the station workers call for a second line, reserved for those lugging around massive suitcases, bikes, and other oversized gear.

with your guitar strapped to your back, you let out a heavy sigh as you join the new queue, watching enviously as others breeze past with just their essentials, nothing but a small bag slung over their shoulders. carrying around that guitar you can't even play properly suddenly feels like the dumbest decision ever.

the line inches forward at a snail's pace, thanks to your usual cast of annoying travellers. the lady in front of you who won't stop griping about how delicate her suitcase is, the backpacker dude who suddenly decides it's the perfect time to start disassembling his bike... classic. but finally, you make it onto the train.

the compartments are mostly packed, so you pick one where you can at least avoid being suffocated by a cocktail of five different colognes. as you peek into the compartment, you see only one boy, buried nose-deep in what seemed to be a college textbook.

"hey, mind if i sit here?" you ask politely.

he looks up and answers with a light nod, offering a smile warm enough to convince you that he really does not mind. he then returns to his book, and you can´t help but feel sorry for him. studying at the beginning of summer? rough. he probably had flunked a class and had to make up for it during the break.

you pick the spot by the window (of course) and cozy up for the ride. as the train begins to move, you steal a few glances at the boy as he pores over his pages. but there's something about him that doesn't quite fit the mold of a slacker. with his slick black hair and gentle attire, he's more like a character from a glossy magazine than someone who'd flunk a class.

you notice something else, though it was impossible not to. his phone, perched somewhat carelessly beside him, keeps buzzing with message notifications, each flash of light drawing your gaze. and each time, the boy would glance at the screen, roll his eyes in exasperation, then proceed to ignore the phone. this goes on long enough for your attention to drift away.

the train goes on, and the steady rattling starts lulling you to sleep.

but before you can fall asleep, your phone buzzes with an incoming call. you smile upon discovering the familiar name on the screen. despite having gradually lost touch since you moved out, you had never deleted his contact and apparently he hadn't changed his phone number in 7 years.

"well, this is awkward" he chuckles softly from the other line.

"yeah, kinda." you agree, trying to suppress your own smile. "i mean, i didn't expect you to call like, at all. the old kai i knew would've probably let the awkwardness win."

he let out a light giggle. "guess i'm not that kid anymore. but you're right, it wasn't exactly my initiative. gran insisted i call."

"why's that?"

"to let you know that i'll be picking you up, of course! you didn't think i was gonna leave you stranded at the station, did you? awkward or not, we're top notch hosts, us huenings."

"aw, that's sweet of you, kai, but really, it's fine." you talk while looking at the window, so you don't notice that your conversation seems to have peaked the textbook boy´s interest. you also don't notice that he has finally answered his texts, all while stealing glances at you. "i can just grab a cab or something. no need to go through the trouble."

"but i want to! plus, i've got a surprise for you," he added eagerly.

"really?"

"yep! and trust me, it's a win-win. it'll totally ease the awkwardness of us reuniting after, what, 8 years without a word."

"what's the surprise? tell me, pretty please..."

"see, y/n, i know for sure you're pouting. but we're on the phone, so it has no effect on me..." Kai teased.

"fine. whatever," you chuckled. "i guess i'll have to wait and see."

"you won't have to wait long. what's your ETA?"

"hmm, i should be there around 6pm."

"sweet, i´ll be there! i'm eager to see you again, y/n" he admits, his tone softening. "it's been too long."

"yeah, it has," you agree. "i'm really looking forward to catching up."

"me too. oh, and one more thing," kai added before you could respond. "gran insisted that we picked up those pastries you like so much from dan´s bakery on our way home, so start brainstorming flavours, alright?"

"i will," you said with a smile. "tell grandma i'm excited to see her!"

"will do. see you soon!"

"see you soon, little cousin." even after hanging up the phone, your smile lingers. your little cousin kai had always been the quiet type, shy to a fault, but hearing him on the phone just now, he sounded different—more confident, somehow. it's funny how people change, you think to yourself, a sense of pride swelling in your chest as you picture kai, no longer the timid child you remember, but growing into his own. just like you had, just like everyone must have while you were away.

and that's when the grin started to fade. you're different now, you realize. you've changed. changed a lot, actually. maybe for the better, you like to hope. you've morphed into this conventionally beautiful woman, ticking off all those boxes of academic success. but deep down, that awkward little girl, the one who used to get teased and called names, she's still lurking in that beach town you're heading back to. it's like a part of you never left.

as you were mulling over all this, the train rattling on towards your destination, you hear a shy voice speaking to you.

"h-hey, sorry. i don't want it to seem like i'm eavesdropping, but is the kai you were talking to... huening kai?" he asks, his words stumbling out.

"uh, yeah," you nod slowly, somewhat caught off guard. the boy´s phone keeps insistently notifying that someone really really wants to talk to him, but he flips it over and leaves the screen facing down.

"cool! so you're y/n! i'm... oh," he stops himself, seeing how surprised you were at him knowing your name. "i must sound like a total weirdo right now, sorry. i'm soobin, i'm friends with kai."

"nice to meet you," you chuckle. "and you don't sound like a weirdo, you're good."

he smiles. "he's been going on about you coming over for the summer, huening... he's pretty hyped, i gotta say. i'm just telling you because he probably won't. he missed you."

at this, your heart melts a little. kai has always been cute in his own eccentric way. "how long have you know kai?" you ask. "i don't remember you from middle school..."

"i moved in right after you left. first year high school. huening took it pretty hard, you leaving and all. him and that other girl, yunjin. we promised to go back to geoje for the summer, so..." he begins to say, but he trails off. "they have something going on, those two... or they wish they did. ah..." rather than regretful, his grin was mischievous. "maybe i shouldn't have spilled... i don't know how close you are to huening after so much time."

"oh, no, you probably shouldn't have. he´d be mortified." you admit, amused. "but its not exactly breaking news. kai´s been crushing on yunjin since we were ten."

you share a laugh. if soobin and you were still strangers, you now at least knew that you shared two things; a cozy little beach town and a special love for teasing huening kai.

and then, he gets the call.

though he remains polite, he is clearly annoyed at the person calling him, muttering through a tight smile, "sorry, i have to take this."

"oh, of course. take it!"

he began to leave, but stopped in his tracks. "hey, honestly, you're nice to talk to and we still have a few hours of travel ahead of us." he said. "wanna meet up in the cafeteria compartment? on me!" he suggested, his grin gentle.

"sure, sounds good!" you say, returning the enthusiasm.

"great! i´ll head there as soon as i´m done with the call. see you!"

he leaves the compartment while you gather your belongings, feeling a pang of determination to at least offer to split the bill. grabbing your wallet, you make your way out.

you saunter down the narrow train aisle, the familiar hum of conversations and the rhythmic clatter of wheels against the tracks filling the air. but amidst the mundane sounds of travel, you hear the voice of soobin, coming from the closed door of the toilets, sounding a tad vexed.

"dude, seriously, you're such a pain in the ass." he says, his words slightly muffled by the restroom door. "and what am i supposed to do about it! i don't know, talk to her, ask her out, be normal if that's even possible?!"

cute. you think. one of his friends must be having girl problems. amused, you linger in the doorway, curiosity getting the better of you for just a moment longer. you even entertained yourself with the idea that the lover boy in question could be kai.

"you have got to be kidding me!" soobin´s frustration spilled over. "you've had like a hundred girlfriends since then, that's excluding the flings, and now you're acting like you're twelve! man up!"

yikes. that sounded a bit off character for huening kai. you keep supressing your laughter. apparently, your little cousin was now a man who've had a hundred girlfriends, excluding the flings.

"christ, it´s like you don't know him. huening won't mind. the boy just lacks the halo, of course he won't mind!"

oh? so he wasn't talking to huening. suddenly, the fun of the eavesdropping starts to fade away, replaced by a sinking feeling in your gut. what if huening was about to get hurt by whatever they were discussing?

but then you hear it. clearly, too. soobin mentions your name.

"that's if y/n remembers you, at all."

you recoil from the door as if it had bitten you. listening doesn't feel right anymore, invasive, even. but a nagging curiosity gnaws at you, urging to listen for just a bit longer. you press your ear against the door.

"how am i supposed to know? it was pure chance..." you hear soobin say. "well, she said her name´s y/n and her cousin is huening kai, so... no, she doesn't look like the pic. look, this is totally not my problem. to me she's just a nice girl i met on the train, i'm not taking sides, alright?" he says. "no! i'm not playing the spy for you. it´s childish. seriously man, what's gotten into you? you're supposed to be the cool one."

you're not a particularly gossipy person, bu oh how you wish you could hear the person on the other line.

"i don't know, i guess you'll find out when you talk to her." he says. "of course you´ll get to talk to her, you clown, she'll be staying here all summer!"

a pause follows.

"toddler." soobin scoffs.

another silence.

"but why?"

one more. this one slightly longer.

"...oh."

the last silence. and you guess this one goes both ways.

"well, it'll be fine. she seems nice enough. just don't freak out, alright? k. bye."

as the restroom door creaks open, you scramble away, heart pounding with a mix of confusion and adrenaline. you head to the cafeteria compartment, where you take a seat and try to make sense of it all.

pricking at the label of the water bottle you just ordered, you mull over the conversation. he was talking about you, but you don't know to whom or why. they seemed to know you from the past, they mentioned something about you remember them... and they knew huening too, so maybe it had to be a common friend. someone who knew kai, and soobin and... you? and the most important thing, they were nervous to talk to you. maybe it wasn't really a friend.

then it clicks. someone from your past, someone who perhaps hadn't treated you well before and was now trying to muster up the courage to apologise. it makes sense. or at least, it is the only way you can make sense of it.

as you think this over, soobin walks in with a gentlemanly smile you are starting to register as characteristic of his. and as you stare at him, you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. whatever the conversation was about, he told the other person he didn't want to lie to you. he is a good person, or principled, at least.

"hello, again!" he smiles.

he seems nice. you don't even know him, but he seems nice. and precisely, because he seems so nice, you...

ask about it. better come clean and avoid any misunderstandings.

let it go. no hard feelings. besides, you can ask kai about it later.

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gayuu-the-necromancer · 9 months

Text

My thoughts on El's father...(Rant!)

TW - major spoilers

I hate him!

He's the fucking worst! Not only as a father but he's monster. I don't care if he's grieving the loss of his wife, he's also responsible for what happen to El.

El's mom, Cecelia (beautiful name btw) was r*ped by a monster and that's how El was born. No one knew this fact. I understand Cecelia having conflicted feelings for El. On one hand, she does seems to care about El but there was also a small amount of hatred because of how he was born. From El's point of view, his mom looked at him like he was like a caterpillar, which she hates.

Cecelia could no longer suffer the pain and killed herself after writing a suicide note that revealed everything. Hugh, El's dad and Cecelia's husband, was affected mentally and blamed it all on El after knowing all the truth. First of all, you're telling me, you loved and cared for El all this time, and the moment you realised that he was not your flesh and blood, you don't love him anymore? Are you telling me all the love you gave him before was only because you thought he was your actual son? If El can love you, who is not his biological father, even after knowing everything then why can't you love him back? Like you lost your wife, he too lost his mother. Now the only one he can rely on is you!

Also how is this all El's fault? He's 8 or 9 years old. What the hell did he do? How is this all his fault? It's not like he told that monster from heaven to go and SA Cecelia, so that he can come to earth, right? Use your brain you dumb bitch!

And not yet! I haven't even got to the worse part yet. After this, Hugh goes into complete depression, and his mental state was not good. He even wanted El out of his sight or otherwise, he would have panic attacks because El's face reminded him was his wife's death. Whatever! Fuck you anyways!

While this was happening, that mf Jeffery...yeah, Jeffery, everyone's fav character...Yayy! He manipulates the now defenseless 9 year old El so that he and the maids could SA him as much as they liked....

Just how much of a monster you have to be to do this to a child? That too a child who YOU watched growing up. I just really want to know what was going in their minds when they were doing such things.

This nightmare was happening everyday and one day, the doctor was visiting the mansion for Hugh's treatment, got a whiff of this and he was like "Oh, you can SA a beautiful looking child and you won't face any consequences? Plss let me in!"

Yeah! The doctor! A doctor, who's job is to save people, now wants to gang with these monsters to destroy what is left of El. I literally wanna skin these people alive, chop them and feed them to the dogs.

Of course El kills the doctor by stabbing him with the scissors, because he's mentally broken at this point. Jeffery and the maid, just entirely brainwashed and manipulated him into thinking that what they're doing to him is an act of love and they love him unlike his father and mother. El thought that if he killed the doctor, maybe then Hugh will be happy and smile at him. He goes to see his father and his father killed himself. Good! Otherwise I would have killed him myself! His father told him that he knew what Jeffery and the maids were doing to him but he decided to let it happen because he wanted El to feel the same pain as he does. This statement, made my blood BOIL! This fucking selfish ASSHOLE!! Just how can you watch a child's innocence being stolen and take the side of these monsters? Even if he's not your biological child, he's still a child! A human being that has feelings!! Just how can you? A parent should be protecting their children. Even if you're not a parent, as a human being, don't you think you should protect that child? I'm sorry, I'm being so emotional! It just hurts me more when I see a parent doing this.

You know, when I was child, my grandma used to tell me that in hell, people are thrown into a large boiling cooking pots filled with oil and are roasted by Yamaraj (god of death in Hinduism) for their sins. I'm not a religious person, but I feel like that's one of the best punishment suited for monsters who attack children.

I...just...hate him more than Liam's dad.

#ikemen series #otome #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #ikemen villain #cybird #ikemen villains #ikemen villains elbert

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pendragaryen · 5 months

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Merry christmas, my dear friends, mutuals and followers and all the best wishes for the upcoming new year! 🧡🫶🏻🧡🫶🏻🧡🫶🏻🧡

The last bit of 2022 and the whole of 2023 have not been very kind to my family - and so I'm standing here today, looking back at the past 13 months and finding myself almost back and stuck in the emotional state that I had been in after the separation from my long time boyfriend/life partner in 2009... That was a very dark time. I was trying to live and breathe with a constant black hole in my chest and soul for a couple of years then... I felt so empty and lost. I had a very similar feeling for the span of a couple of months after I had been kicked out of my job in 2017. But nothing, and I mean it, nothing has the rug under my feet pulled away and made me hit rock bottom like the cancer illness of my sister, the death of my grandma and now the fact that my mum is diagnosed with a tumor in her spine, all in the span of just 13 months... Please, we all need some rest in my family so desperately. But now we're all very anxious bc of the surgery my mum has to go through at the 12th of january. It's a difficult surgery. No-one knows for sure at this point what kind of a tumor it is. It causes her legs getting more and more numb and if they don't do anything, the risk of her ending up using a wheelchair rather sooner than later seems very likely. If the tumor should be malignant (please, god, no, NO!) the consequences would be even worse bc it could've spread already... But the fact that the doctors pushed for a fast surgery likely speaks for the possibility that the tumor is benign and seated in just one place... Well you see, this really keeps me busy... We all hope desperately that she will get better after the surgery, and not worse... We have plans! We want to travel together again! To the Netherlands next! Or to Danmark!

Don't get me wrong, there HAD been good things that happened in the last year, not at least the fact that my sister is now considered as cured. We're all so relieved and thankful, I have no words for it! But then... the death of our grandma... and now the tumor and surgery of my mother... I feel like i'm trapped in a constant state of emotional stress, like standing in the dark and screaming into the void with nobody being able to hear me... I can't even begin to imagine how my sister must've felt or how my mum is feeling now. Sometimes I think I'm too empathetic, the way I suffer with and for my beloved ones... that can't be healthy. I'm so tired.

Sorry to bother you with all this. I'm not around here that often anymore. Sadly I have to say I lost joy in many things I once loved or loved to do over the course of the last years. I'm unmotivated most of the time. But now... I have to function, I have to be there for my mum. It'll take half a year at least for her to recover from her surgery (if everything goes well - fingers crossed please!!!) and so I have to be strong - and I WILL be strong! For her! For my family! I hope my sister will support me then... The relationship of her and our mom is a little difficult... Sadly. But she's working on it..

I said I lost the joy in many things I loved once, but one thing I'll never get tired of is, on the rare occasions I visit this site, to read you all at our weekly BFSN, to see the 100 fam still being so creative and devoted, so that our favorite show never really gets forgotten. Thank you so much for that! And please keep tagging me in things! I read you, look at your photos, and I smile, even though I may not answer. This little corner of our fandom is so dear to me, it's almost a little like homecoming when I log in here. A comfort place.

Thank you all for your kind, empathetic, couraging, and motivational words at the last BFSN. I appreciate each and every one of it.

I hope the year has been kind to y'all and that these christmas holidays and the new year will be filled with tons of health, luck and love for you and all of us! Here's to a well deserved rest for us all!

And may we meet again. Here and in words. Maybe one day in person? Who knows?

Always.

Anne

@sunflowerkru: @togetherkru @carrieeve @ninappon @roguetwelve @bellamyblake @jeanie205 @geekyogicheese @natassakar @heartbellamy @okmcintyre @immortalpramheda @igotbellarkeforthat @infp-with-all-the-feelings @isweartobreathe @kizo2703 @travllingbunny @bookwormforalways @lee-em-dee @julibernardo @broashwhat @its-tea-time-darling @delicatebluebirdruins (and each and everyone else I maybe forgot, please excuse me)

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jsprnt · 4 months

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Healing Hearts PT. 18 | Virgil van Dijk

Would a fresh start bring you more than just a new job?

A/N: I’m back! Still a little sick but we push through. Life’s been hectic lately with uni applications and exams. Even so we’re almost reaching the end of the story. 😭 please don’t forget to leave a note <3

WC: 3.405

Summary: Y/N L/N is a very skilled and praised physiotherapist. A certain event pushing her for a fresh start, as a physiotherapist for Liverpool FC. One question always being in the back of her mind: Will she be able to let go of her past and allow herself to experience new things?

"I'm sorry mom, it hasn't been that long even. So I wanted to keep it private, but you know how it unfolded."

I hear her sigh, accompanied by the sound of the TV in the background.

"y/n, we are your parents. Couldn't you have said a single thing?"

"I wanted to but the way you've been adamant on me getting back with that piece of shit. I didn't think you'd even be happy with it." I try to reason, nervously chewing on my bottom lip.

"No, we would be happy."

"What do you mean? You've been talking my ear off about him when you call, even in my dreams! You show up and scold me about it, in my dreams mom."

"Look I said all of that, and I realize maybe I shouldn't have. Just thought that would be the best for everyone!"

"Everyone mom? Really? You don't even know some of the things that happened in between us!"

I hear her sigh again, hearing footsteps, assuming she's walking around the house.

"I'm just disappointed to hear that my daughter is dating someone from my friends, and not my own daughter."

"If I told you last time I was home. You and dad would be fine with it?"

"Yes.”

"You're being serious?" I ask, confused by her change of opinion.

"Obviously, your dad has been bragging about you since he heard it."

I raise my brow in curiosity, sitting up from the sofa.

"What do you mean?"

"He's been getting calls left and right. His friends asking about you and your- boyfriend."

"Oh- what is he saying?"

"He cuts them off when they ask about your boyfriend. Ignores the questions and changes the topic to how good of a physiotherapist you are."

“Mom, you don’t have to pretend-”

"Of course not! He hasn't stopped talking about you."

This gives me a great feeling of relief, like huge weight was lifted off my chest.

"So, what I'm getting is. You both aren't mad about me dating someone else? Just mad I didn't tell you?"

I hear her hum, and a smile forms on my face.

"You won't bring up my ex or anything?"

"That's in the past now."

"Promise? You won’t mix him with any of our business anymore?”

"You have my word on this. I promise."

"Grandma! Are you in the back!" Virgil shouts as we enter the familiar restaurant, shoving the spare key into his pocket. The place silent apart from the ticking clock on the wall.

"She must be, let's go and look." I say, dragging Virgil further inside the place.

"Grandma?" I call out, opening the door to the kitchen.

"You're here just in time. Take one!" She exclaims, walking towards us with a platter of sugar cookies.

"These smell amazing. Just a second, let us wash our hands." I reply, walking over to the sink, smelling the sweetness of the cookies.

"Come on now hurry." She urges, finally handing one to Virgil and me.

We thank her, popping the buttery goodness into our mouths.

"I need the recipe, please.” I mumble, covering my full mouth with my hand.

I hear chuckle as she goes to put the platter down, turning towards me.

"I will teach you of course." She smiles, taking her apron off.

"When is the delivery coming? Eleven again?" Virgil chimes in, taking off his jacket.

"Yes, let's have some coffee together until then."

I go to take off my own jacket, hanging it up on the coat rack before returning.

"I'll make the coffee!" I announce, fixing my sweater.

I walk up to the coffee machine, grabbing the bag of roasted coffee beans from the cabinet and filling up the machine with it.

"Grandma what do you want to drink?"

"A cappuccino for me."

I hum, grabbing a mug from the cabinet and filling the milk compartment with fresh milk. Clicking the right button, I watch the foamy milk mix with the black coffee.

I suddenly feel strong arms wrap around me from behind, looking back to see Virgil. His chin resting on my shoulder.

"What do you want to drink?" I ask, returning to grab another mug.

"Cappuccino for me as well." He says, and I go to push the button. Hearing the machine start grinding the beans as I adjust the strength of the coffee aroma.

I turn in his hold, looking at him as I lean against the counter. His hand coming up to my cheek.

"What?" I ask, seeing his eyes roam over my face. His thumb rubbing on my cheekbone.

"Just taking in your face before I have to leave you for a while."

"Oh come on. You'll be fine, you act like we won’t see each other for a month." I tease, laughing at him.

The coffee machine beeping brings my attention back to preparing the coffee, making me turn away.

"Here, I'll make mine now." I say, looking around to see grandma not in the kitchen anymore.

"Where did she go?" I ask, pressing the latte macchiato button.

"I'll go look." He says, leaving the kitchen.

I hear a grunt a couple of minutes later, watching Virgil walk into the kitchen with a huge bag of flour in his arms.

"Delivery is here already?"

"Yeah, came a little early this time."

"Well should I help you?" I say, stepping towards the door as I watch him leave.

"No, it's fine just have coffee with grandma until I'm done."

"Are you sure?" I press on, following him.

He turns around, hands on my back as he leans in to peck my forehead. Lips touching my skin with upmost tenderness.

"I'm sure, go ahead." He murmurs.

I nod, watching him walk away as I return to kitchen. Placing all three cups of coffee on the tray, grabbing a generous plate of cookies as I walk into the dinner area.

"I've prepared the coffee!" I beam, placing the tray in front of grandma. I watch her smile, pearly dentures showing as she thanks me.

I hear her chuckle, before she looks around.

"Where did Virgil go?”

"Oh he's still bringing in the flour, he'll be here in a minute."

I take a sip of the warm coffee, it's warming me up since the weather was getting colder and colder in Liverpool.

"How have you two been? No trouble in paradise?”

"We've been amazing. Just both focused on working hard."

"That's good, but you should enjoy your youth. That's what my late husband and I did as well."

"Well will of course. It's just that Virgil is leaving for his international duty in a couple days."

"Right I've heard about that on TV. Are you going with him?" She asks, taking a sip of her cappuccino.

"Not this time, you know we have some injuries. Need to focus on my job and support him from here this time.” I smile.

"Right establishing a career is very important for a young woman like you."

"That's right- oh there he is." I smile, seeing Virgil finally walk in, sitting down as I put his mug in front of him.

"Thank you. What are you two gossiping about? Me?" He asks, smug smile on his lips as he takes a sip of his coffee, his left hand coming to rest on mine.

"You wish." grandma jokes, and I laugh watching Virgil's face twist in confusion.

"Right, you wish." I tease, laughing again.

"Nice first half guys!" She exclaims, high-fiving the tired players as they pile into the changing room at half time.

It was the last match before international break, this one being against Brentford. The first half being full of controversial decisions made by the referee and multiple checks for VAR. Liverpool still had the upper hand, with one goal a little before half time scored by Mo.

As Darwin walks past, she makes sure to pat his back, a smile in motivation thrown his way. The Uruguayan had already scored two amazing goals, though unfortunately both were annulled after VAR checks. He did have an assist underneath his belt, which hopefully cheered his mood up a bit.

She makes eye contact with Virgil as he throws her on of his cheeky winks, a smile forming on her lips as she follows the guys inside the changing room. Making sure to check on Diogo first since he'd gotten knocked down pretty badly.

They already had some injuries on the squad, with international break coming up they needed to be extra cautious. After full confirmation of no injuries, she leaves the changing room a couple minutes before halftime ends.

She goes to grab a cup of coffee, before heading back into the medical room. Watching the second half of the game with much anticipation. The next few 45 minutes going by fast as Liverpool wins with a 3-0. Confirming her belief that this season could definitely be Liverpool's if all matches went this well.

y/n immediately zips her jacket up, grabbing the empty disposable cup as she throws into the recycling bin. Making her way towards the pitch as she hears the full time whistle.

Stepping onto the grass, she turns giving her coworkers a high five in celebration. Then making her way towards the bench to congratulate and compliment the players.

She watches the players hug each other, Klopp walking away to celebrate the win as a smile forms on her face. Happy the last game ended on a positive note.

She observes the celebration for a second, ready to walk back inside, but a phone is abruptly shoved in her face as she moves to the side.

It shocks her into freezing up, eyes widening in before registering the string of questions coming out of the man's mouth, back-to-back.

"Are you really dating Van Dijk?"

"On your second gold digging mission aren't ya?"

"Women like you are the problem!"

The last sentence he says brings her back to reality. Wondering where the hell security even was, or why no else had noticed this maniac yelling at her and recording her yet.

She looks back at the man again, as he keeps repeating 'fucking gold digger'.

The words hit a nerve, making her blood boil. A feeling of defensiveness brews in her, folding her arms as she looks at the man skeptically.

"Why do you give a fuck?" She questions, fear of threat thrown away as she’s getting pissed off.

"What?" The man replies, flustered as he raises his brows.

"Why do you care? I mean, don't think there's anything to dig here." She repeats, motioning to him, ducking when he suddenly tries to grab her.

She presses her lips together, having difficulty biting back a laugh at the comical anger on the man's face. Stepping back as she finally sees security grabbing the feral man, watching him get escorted off the pitch with struggle.

A hand coming up to her shoulder, makes her head turn in curiosity. “You okay?" She hears Dr. Woods say, his hand comforting as she nods.

"I'm fine, just your usual pitch invader." She shakes it off.

Because a normal one goes up to staff instead of the field full of world-famous players.

"Then let's go inside." He suggests, and she agrees in an instant. The both of them walking inside through the tunnel.

She goes to grab her belongings immediately, saying goodbye to the players who would be leaving for international duty. Warmly hugging some of them, eyes catching her boyfriend still doing interviews as she makes her way into the garage.

She throws her stuff into the backseat haphazardly as she steps into her car, grabbing onto the wheel as she rests her forehead onto it, sighing. The initial shock, anger and humor she found in the situation wearing off.

Sitting up straight she tries to remove it from her memories, tapping her fingers onto the steering wheel as she waits for her boyfriend. Spotting him walk through the doors minutes later.

"You look tired. Not happy we won?" He teases, shutting the door. Leaning in to press a kiss against her forehead.

"Of course I'm happy." She mumbles, putting her seatbelt on. Glancing at him for a moment, noticing the curious look in his eyes, but choosing to ignore it.

She shifts a little, waving at the staff outside for a second, then starting the car. Driving out of the parking garage.

"You okay?" He asks, noticing her silence and the fact that she hadn't turned on a song like usual.

"I'm fine, something silly just happened. That's all." She breathes out, focusing on driving.

He doesn't believe she's totally fine, deciding to ask about it later and not when she's driving.

"You packed everything right?" She asks, watching her lover sit on the floor next to his suitcases.

"Yeah, I'm just trying to figure out how to style these jeans." He replies, holding them up.

She hums, walking away for a minute, grabbing some items out of his closet before throwing them onto the bed.

"These would work. What do you think?" She asks, grabbing the jeans and placing them next to different sweaters.

He gets up, going to stand next to her as he ponders over the options.

"These are all nice." He adds, hand on his chin.

"I think this sweater and T-shirt combo is the best. Especially for the weather." She says, looking at him. "-and with those new LV sneakers you just got!"

He smiles at her, wrapping his arms around her back, pulling her in closely.

"That's perfect." He mumbles, leaving kisses on the side of her head.

"Being all lovey dovey suddenly?"

"Going to miss you."

She doesn't reply, pressing her face into his chest, soft sigh leaving her lips. He only pulls her closer, hand resting on the small of her back.

"We have to finish packing soon. It's getting late." She mutters pulling away and glancing at the clock.

"Just let me hold you for a moment." He whispers, pulling her back in. Wrapping his strong arms around her tightly.

The couple is wrapped in between the gray sheets of the bed, the autumn sun casting minimal sunlight into the room. Bodies entangled, still basking in the silence of the morning. Before a universally hated alarm sound blasts through the room, making the couple groan in annoyance.

"Babe, turn it off." She complains, snuggling further into the sheets. Clutching the thick blanket closer as she hides her head underneath her pillow.

Not getting a response by the athlete, she nudges him with her knee, enough to not hurt, and harsh enough to wake him up. The annoying alarm still all but stopped.

"What?" He questions, voice raspy as he opens his eyes.

"Alarm." She mutters, face squished into the mattress. Feeling him shift, as the sound finally gets cut off.

"Come here." He mumbles, grabbing her naked shoulder and pulling her into his bare chest. A soft smile on his face as he strokes patterns on her back.

"What time is it?" She asks, wrapping her own arms around him lazily.

"Little past eight." He replies, leaving kisses on her shoulder.

"Let's just sleep more, I'm tired."

He chuckles deeply, smug smile on his face.

"Bet you are."

He receives a light punch to his hard stomach, fake groan leaving his lips as he watches her amused through his squinted eyes.

"Quiet please." She mumbles, laying her head back on his chest.

"Alright I'm sorry." He hums, running his hand down her back again, resting it on the small of her back.

"Let me ask you something first." He whispers, watching her raise her head.

"I've heard what happened yesterday. Why didn't you tell me everything?"

"What do you mean?"

"About the guys who harassed you on the pitch. Security reached out to me yesterday."

"It's nothing."

"No, how you feel is important to me. Did he hurt you?" He asks, holding her chin up.

"He tried to insult me, then he went on this rant about all women being gold diggers or whatever."

She notices his jaw clench, his hold on her chin leaving as he strokes her cheek.

"I'm sorry for not being there."

"It fine, we're even since I insulted him back. There's probably a funny video of it floating around the internet, he was recording until security took him." She chuckles, imagining how dumb the video would look.

"He was recording that?" He asks, removing a fallen eyelash from her cheek.

"Yeah, with his phone."

"I'll make sure it gets deleted." He promises, leaning in to kiss her. Pressing his plump lips against hers.

"No, more speaking. Just let me sleep now hm?" She urges, pulling the blanket up. Wanting to stop talking about the incident.

"Anything you want my love."

She brings in the groceries, two heavy bags on each hand as tries to unlock the front door of her boyfriend home. He'd insisted she'd stay at his place while he was gone, since his place was safer and had better security.

Washing her hands and taking of her coat, she takes the TV remote. Shuffling her playlist, landing on ‘Sidewalks’ by The Weeknd and Kendrick Lamar. Going back into the kitchen to organize the groceries.

The vibrations of her phone stops her from moving, smile forming on her lips as she hears Siri announce the caller ID. Going the dry her hands quickly before picking up.

"Can you see me?" She asks, leaning in after resting her phone against the empty fruit basket.

"I can. How's my girl doing?" He asks, laying comfortably in his hotel room bed.

"Went grocery shopping." She replies, grabbing the remote to lower the volume of the music.

"Think I called at the perfect moment." He teases, voice deep as he looks at her through the screen.

"Yeah, if you think putting groceries away is sexy." She laughs, leaning her body against the counter.

"If it's you thats difficult to deny."

"Enough trying to virtually get in my pants. Where are you? Gibraltar?" She asks, putting a bottle of juice into the fridge. Starting to organize the vegetables and fruits into containers.

"No, Portugal. Stadium in Gibraltar is getting fixed."

"Really? Are you done training? Back in your hotel room?" She asks, popping a washed grape into her mouth.

"Yeah, captains have their own hotel room remember?" He replies, sensual undertone peeking through his already amorous tone.

"Oh really? Didn’t know that-" she begins, confusion on her face as she hears the doorbell ring.

“Who’s that?” She asks, suddenly on high alert. No one had visited since Virgil had left, unless it was a package she was aware of.

The break-in had only affected her in one way, and that was being home alone. It wasn’t to the point of paranoia, security cameras definitely helping a lot. But a little sound here and there definitely had her on high alert at times.

Noticing the sternness in her expression he calls out to her, taking her attention away from the door.

“It’s fine, just something I ordered. Go check it out.” He reassures, calming her down.

She grabs the phone, holding it in her hand as she opens the front door. A delivery man standing there with a bouquet- or more like box of roses.

“y/n l/n?” He says, extending the bouquet.

“That’s me, thank you.” She replies, grabbing the flowers, shutting the door when he leaves.

She walks to the sofa propping the phone up as she looks at him while taking the card from in between the flowers.

“I miss you so much. Enjoy these flowers. I’ll be back soon, baby.”

- V

Looking up at her phone, seeing her boyfriend smile makes her smile as well. Heart tingling from kindness of the gesture.

“This is so sweet..” she exclaims, looking back at the arrangement of roses, baby’s breaths mixed in between.

She hears him chuckle from over the phone.

“I’m glad you like it love. I missed you.” He replies, watching her expression intensely.

Grabbing the phone off the the coffee table she lays down on the sofa, looking at him.

“Then you better win tomorrow’s match. I want to see you as fast as possible.”

#virgil van dijk fanfiction #virgilvandijkimagines #virgil van dijk #virgilvandijk #vandijk #liverpoolfc #football #football fanfic #football imagines #liverpoolimagines #liverpool fanfic #virgil van dijk x reader #virgil x reader #footballer x reader

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compassionatereminders · 3 months

Note

tw: suicide

i'm currently 24, i have meet my best friend when we were 15 for a while... and when i say a while i mean years at least 3 years she is just taking advantage of me. she has this boyfriend they spend money like crazy (only her bf works she doesn't work atm) and a lot of times she borrows money from me. 80% of the time i don't get my money back but i sometimes don't mind because she has a daughter (this bf is not the father btw so he doesn't spend much money on her daughter) and i feel so bad for her kid.

my friend got pregnant at age 17 and i love her daughter a lot. it feels like i'm her aunt or something (she does call me an aunt as well) she feels like family to me. a lot of times i would also willingly buy her something because i feel bad that she doesn't have things she needs. her ex pays child support but my friend spends that money mostly on herself. this is also where his involvement ends, he pays child support and maybe he sees his daughter once every month or so.

i'm sorry if this is getting boring to read so i will get to the point. my friend only calls me when she needs someone to babysit her kid. and when she needs money. she loves going out with her bf and a lot of times, probably 3 times per week i babysit her daughter. i don't actually spend much time with my friend at all when i come to her to babysit we maybe talk for less than 5 minutes because she's always in a hurry and when she is back she is tired or needs to do something so we don't talk more than a few minutes either.

one day she got even mad when i couldn't babysit even if i'm single it doesn't mean i always have free time just for her.

since i implied or try to imply our friendship doesn't works out anymore (2 days ago) she threatened me she will kill herself because she is very depressed. i know she doesn't have a perfect life and she goes to a psychologist (but she was never dealing with suicidal thoughts, and she never ever said to me since we know each other that she wanted to hurt or kill herself).

now i do feel really bad because i think what if something happened then it would be my fault? she never said to me that she ever threatened any ex boyfriends with suicide (we talk about a lot of things i know she wanted to keep her ex boyfriends but she never used this tactic with them as far as i know) so i think why would she do this to me? makes me think that she a) not lying and she wants to kill herself b) she never used this tactic with her any of her ex boyfriends but she knows am an emotional person and she is trying this with me even if i'm just her friend and not her intimate partner.

i would also feel so bad for her daughter if i break off this friendship. her dad doesn't give a s**t about her, and dad's family (grandma and grandpa) don't really care about her either. my friend's mom & dad are not good people her mom is physically abusive & her dad is an alcoholic so they're not good grandparents to be around with.

i really can't stand this friendship anymore it feels like i'm her personal butler or something "hey i need a babysitter come here" and "i need to borrow some cash, can we meet"... she used to be a good person and honestly i was waiting for her to "turn back" into old her but that never happened.

so sorry for such a long post but should i feel responsible? like if something happens would it be my fault? my common sense says: no, but when i start thinking about it i think maybe it would be my fault because i abandoned her. she called me so many times how she wants to kill herself and sent me like 7 messages already just when i started implying we should not be friends anymore... i didn't really say it but i was hinting at it because i didn't know how to word it... since then i saw her in person today and she was telling me how she wants to kill herself, this time she spoke with me more than a few minutes, we talked like 45 minutes but mostly she talked how she would kill herself if i stopped being her friend.

later she happily went out with her bf... her mood changed completely she went from stressed, almost crying, panicking, threatening she wants to kill herself and even how she would do it... then she would change into this bubbly smiling person when she went out. and ofc she only called me to chat and for babysitting...

This "friend" is using you, and her response to you trying to establish the boundaries you need is not just unfair, but abusive. Her mental health, her economy and her child are NOT your responsibility. And she has no right to threaten you into not establishing the boundaries you need. No matter what happens from here, it won't be your fault or your responsibility. Your responsibility is yourself, and that means walking away from people who use, manipulate and abuse you. Even when they make it hard.

#chat with kat #suicide tw #suicide threats tw #manipulation tw #guilt tripping tw #psychological abuse tw #abuse tw #emotional abuse tw

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dmagedgoods · 5 months

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sorry i really really really want to ramble because my GOD Raphael has me in a chokehold. my christian grandma would probably get an aneurysm if she ever learns the amount of affection i have for a fictional nasty devil man

Raphael always striked me as... i def don't have the needed english vocab for this, but, yk, nudging? hinting? suggesting rather than forthcoming? a cat seeing the rodent go into its hiding place and simply waiting near it rather than pushing its paw inside. a cat staring at it's human when they cook rather than trying to steal the food bits by itself. yk????

he nudges us in the right direction, he knows one way or another we'll do what he wants us to do and so he waits and plays around rather than straight up DEMANDING we do something. he only goes yeah yeah so and so its YOUUUR choice yes YOUR CHOICE..... its like that thing he said with Mol, what was it? "to choose the only option she has left"

and i think in a romance it would be very much the same, in situations. i imagine if he goes in for a kiss, he... well, he won't *go in* for it necessarily. he'll move in just enough for OUR mind to think of it, then patiently wait for US to make the first move, and goddamn it I'm pouncing onto him alright!!! it reminds me of a post i saw a longass time ago about how flirting is basically saying horny/affectionate stuff but also having enough deniability to say "oh,no, thats not what i meant at all". and he's literally the personalization of that.

"did... you flirt with me?" "take it as you will, little mouse, all i wanted to say is [explains in still a vaguely flirty manner lmfao]"

and that opens up, like... how would he be when he's not patient enough??? if his patience is JUST running thin he'll probably pull us closer yeah but make it not too obvious and more almost like how you pull in a dance partner. he can't let us know he NEEDS to kiss us, hmmm? and when his patience is gone for sure i can definitely imagine him just straight up grabbing us tbh. you didn't give the cat enough attention so get ready to be clawed at until you give it a VERY MUCH DESERVED treat you ungrateful human

(cat-coded raphael believers unite)

so so so sorry to drop all this text on you i--- 💀

🏃🏼🏃🏼🏃🏼🏃🏼🏃🏼

Anon, you stay right where you are! Don’t you dare and run away! [Guards, close the gates!] I'm being silly omg, don't mind me. But never apologize for coming at me with Raphael thoughts, I love this so, so much! 💕 Also I wholeheartedly agree! Raphael definitely is an observer who likes to tempt action and then see it unfold, curious for the direction it will go. The comparison to a waiting cat really fits! After all, isn’t it that much more satisfying if the food is brought to you instead of taking it yourself? 😌 "To choose the only option she has left", that’s quite classical devil behavior if you ask me. - Making the deal with him appear like the last resort. Maybe moving a few things into place here and there, but ultimately just offering a solution in desperate times of need. Omg, I wondered about this so much, anon! Because yes! True! Raphael has time and I even think it will take him a while to come to terms with his own feelings (those feelings he shouldn’t have as a devil). The “tempt then wait and see” behavior plays into this perfectly and gives him the chance to declare it a mere game he enjoys. I imagined a scene where Tav or Durge teases him and he can’t resist anymore, loses his patience, and kisses them with demanding passion. But oh, I really, really like your idea too. Maybe even more, since you are right, that’s such a him thing to do. Offering, preparing “the deal” but it’s Tav/Durge who needs to sign it by claiming those tempting lips for a kiss. Or well, why not combine it: Tav/Durge teasing him, Raphael losing his patience (we all know he struggles with self-control when confronted in well-aimed manners), but stopping himself from the last step, his fierce need so very obvious and still holding himself back, because as you write: He can’t let them know he is internally shaking with desire and yearning for them. And the way I imagine him to flirt is quite similar to this, indeed. Sometimes just teasing or some flattery, sometimes lewd like the liquor in bellybutton line, but he has this suave demeanor that always creates a bit of distance and allows his prey to take a step backward if they are not willing to go there (yet). Tav/Durge needs to be quite courageous to get that next step from him. Of course, Catphael Raphael has to make it hard for them, probably because he enjoys it but maybe also because he’s not quite sure how to deal with it all himself. His usual duality of hidden insecurities and egomaniacal pride we love him for.

#cat-coded raphael believers unite #well spoken anon #well spoken #raphael #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #dmagedanswers #bg3 spoilers

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farfromstrange · 11 months

Text

Chaos Theory | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Chapter 2: I Know That You Feel Like A Piece Of You’s Dead Inside

Masterlist ° Chapter List

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Barista!Reader (she/her)

Summary: Your day goes a little less ideal when someone very dear to you messages you after breaking off conversation for a while, and it triggers memories you swallowed for a long time. That evening, Michael stands in front of your door like you agreed on, but he's not okay and he needs to channel his emotions into something else - into you. You just hope you can find a way to talk like adults sometime, but you and he are eerily similar when it comes to hiding your past away from prying eyes and pity.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of child abuse, parental trauma, mentions of death and violence, SMUT, choking, oral (f!receiving), unprotected p in v, praise kink, Michael Kinsella Begging, hurt/comfort (18+ MINORS DNI)

Word Count: 5.3k

A/n: Don't be like Mikey, find healthy coping mechanisms! This is written mostly from Reader's POV. This is about you and your day. The next chapter is going to be about what happened during Michael's day that ultimately lead him to the decision he makes in the end. So it'll be his POV next. Also, can you tell how I make my chapter titles?

You wouldn’t consider your past particularly dark. You don’t want to say it was traumatic because when you look at Oliver, who lost years of his life in prison for a mistake he made when he was a teenager, or Michael, who struggled to accept himself and other things he has yet to tell you about; he lost his wife, he went through hell, he went to prison and he has to live with the weight of the blood on his hands for crimes he committed in the same of his family. He lost custody of his daughter and he struggles to get it back. Whatever else he’s hiding, it must be equally as traumatic if not worse. It changed a lot inside of him, you can tell. It would be weird if it hadn’t, to be honest.

Trauma changes people.

You don’t want to know about the nightmares, how the pictures of his wife’s death haunt him. What he experienced in prison must be haunting him just the same. But there is something else about him, something he isn’t telling you.

Your thoughts switch to his daughter. He didn’t say if she was present when the shooting happened. If she was, the poor girl must be traumatized too. How old must she be? They said in the papers that she was just a young girl then, so maybe she is a teenager now, or on her way to becoming one, anyway.

She’s staying with her grandma, and the woman is surely not thrilled that Michael is out of prison, nor would she be thrilled that he is fighting to get custody of his daughter again. It must be so confusing for Anna – that is if she even knows that her father is back – and for Michael as well because he doesn’t know how likely it is that he’d get her back. He knows the chances are slim, but he doesn’t know how slim, and then there is the fear that Anna might not even want to see him.

He’s troubled and he is lucky that you came around or he would have collapsed under the weight on his shoulders.

So no, you wouldn’t say you’re traumatized because compared to him, you got lucky.

Your dad isn’t a drug mule, he just never liked you that much. Over time, you grew used to getting disappointed, so you started trying as hard as you could to make the people in your life stick around. You wanted him to be proud of you.

But you didn’t grow up in a crime family and you never learned how to hurt someone the way Michael did. You can live with your father not liking you; you got used to it. What bugs you though is that after choosing to chase your dream of becoming a writer, you lost what little you had left of the family members who liked you – and now you doubt that you’re making them proud anymore.

The thoughts didn’t come up without reason. You’re on your lunch break, checking your phone when a message pops up.

A while ago, before you moved all the way across the ocean (and by all the way you mean just a little, considering Ireland is right next to England), you gave your sister, who had just freshly turned twelve, your number. You wanted to keep the lines open if she ever needed anything.

She’s sixteen now, a teenager.

Your sister has always clung to you in one way or another. Even as a baby, when you used to babysit her, you had a certain connection. You were the person she could always count on. The more it hurt you and her when you chose to leave.

The lack of support from your family brought back memories and you had to remove yourself from the narrative to find yourself and learn how to be happy for once in your life because the life you were living back then only made you feel worse.

The message pops up and you frown. She hasn’t texted you in a while, and part of you figured she might not want to be in contact with you anymore, which made you a little miserable, so you are surprised when her name shows up on the screen.

It is a simple ‘hey’, but it triggers all kinds of alarms in your head.

You choose to answer the same thing.

She’s a mystery, that one, because she reads your message, but doesn’t answer. Something in your gut tells you that something isn’t right. You hesitate with pressing the call button. Maybe she accidentally texted you and doesn’t want to hear from you. Maybe you surprised her with your reply because you, as well, didn’t put effort into maintaining the connection.

Your thoughts are interrupted by Sarah. “Hey, we have a whole bunch of tourists coming in,” she says. “Can ya cut your lunch break short? Oliver and I could use the help.”

You purse your lips before turning off your phone. “Sure,” you say because saying no is not something you are physically capable of.

She taps the door frame. “Thanks, darling.”

You would call your sister later, you tell yourself. Or maybe she will text you back and you can talk about whatever her dubious text message meant without dancing around it. You just hope she isn’t in any imminent danger or you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself.

The workday drags on. It is Sarah’s turn to close up, so you get to go home early. When you drive down the street that leads to your apartment, you pass the gas station that you have learned to avoid; it has a large tendency to get robbed – and now, after learning about Michael, you’re sure it’s just a front for illegal activities.

As you approach, traffic slows down and you find yourself staring at the bright blue lights of several police cars. There is an ambulance, but no one is moving. It’s then you catch a glimpse of the coroner’s car.

Shit.

As far as you know, in the past robberies, people only got hurt, not killed. And now someone is dead. You see them rolling the gurney with the body bag out onto the street and into the car.

Your blood runs cold.

You want to assure yourself that it’s fine, that it’s none of your business, and that Michael’s family has nothing to do with it, but there is a slight possibility that the Kinsellas could be responsible, and you hate the thought of that.

The police coordinate traffic and lead you down a different street. It adds a few extra kilometers, but you don’t mind. You just want to get home.

There are no parking spaces reserved for the residents, which sucks because that means you have to park on the side of the street and sometimes, the only spaces left are a very long way away from your apartment. You still take the five-minute walks; you have no other choice.

Although when you walk from the starting point of the street to the end where your apartment complex is, your heart starts beating faster. What if you’re being followed? You’re paranoid, you know that, but your optimism goes out the window when you think about the fact that a literal murder has taken place not far from your home and that perhaps, the situation is more dire than you first thought. And you’re not talking about Michael this time.

He doesn’t once cross your mind as you walk faster, your keys clutched tightly between your fingers. It’s not just the fear of a psychopath roaming the streets (you’re not even sure what happened), it’s the fear of being taken and stripped of your dignity in other ways, and that’s just something you, as a woman, have gotten used to. Still, it makes you shiver when you think about it.

There is a deadbolt at your door, which had always felt very American to you before and unnecessary, but today, as you step through the door, you shut your door and put the deadbolt in place, locking your front door twice before you even think about taking a breath.

What did you get yourself into? And what is wrong with you that you now suspect evil in everything that surrounds you? You’re really not sure if it’s because of your sister, the gas station, or Michael. You fear it’s all three and it makes you wonder if Sarah was right with what she said.

"Promise me that if you smell even the slightest whiff of danger, ya'll walk away?”

You promised her, but you can’t walk away. You can’t run. You’re not even sure if you want to. You like him, you’re curious about where your relationship could go, and he is trying to be better. For his daughter, maybe even for you.

He’s a good guy. He made mistakes, but he told you he wasn’t responsible for his wife’s death and the people he hurt before were sacrifices he made for his family. He hates himself, but you don’t, and the fact you’re so easily falling for him makes this so much harder to think about. But you do.

The question irks you, is the danger worth it? Are you ready for what’s to come? Do you want to face it? Or do you want to live in denial?

Man, this sucks.

But you don’t want to leave, so you’re not going to. You can’t, not even if your life depended on it. You are hopelessly devoted to Michael Kinsella, and the inner conflict the knowledge about his past elicits in you is scary as hell, scarier than falling in love with a man who desperately needs it.

You’re not sure what to say when you call your sister and the line clicks. She whispers a simple, “Hey,” but she sounds so vulnerable now.

You have a cup of hazelnut coffee in front of you – on ice because you feel that better fits your mood; cold and dead inside – but it doesn’t soothe the act in your chest like it usually does.

“Hey,” you answer. “It’s been a while… how are you?”

There’s a beat of silence. You imagine her shrugging. “I’m alright,” she lies. You know it’s a lie.

“Maya, what happened?”

“Dad–”

“Did he hurt you?” Sadly, this is the first thing that comes to mind when you think about him.

It shouldn’t have to be like that.

She’s quick to reply, “No! No, he didn’t. He wouldn’t–” she says, but cuts herself off.

He hasn’t hurt her, he never has, but he hurt you, and saying that he wouldn’t isn’t the full truth. He would, just not with her. He loves her.

At first, that made you jealous, feral even, but you are several years apart and she’s just a kid. You’re almost like another parent to her, not just her sister. That’s the curse of being the oldest child, but you took the responsibility the moment she was born and you try to do right by her, always.

Well, you’ve been failing at that lately, and you ignored the nagging feeling in your chest that told you that you were being just as awful as your parents – no, your father.

You didn’t want to be neglectful, but navigating your life isn’t easy, and part of you still lives in denial about everything. You avoid conflict, so you avoid your family. It’s only natural. In your case, at least.

“I snuck out a couple of days ago,” Maya admits quietly. “I didn’t climb out of the window or anything. I told Mom and Dad that I was going to hang out with a friend. But they figured out I lied.”

You know what that’s like. You tried to be the perfect daughter in the past, especially after the first time your father lost it when you went to a party instead of studying. But there is more to it, you can hear it in her voice.

“I lied and Dad– He put this spyware on my phone–”

“Oh boy,” you mutter under your breath.

“He told me he wouldn’t pay for this field trip my class has planned and he took my phone for a couple of days,” she says. “But I managed to find it so I could call you. I needed to call you.” Her voice cracks and you can hear she’s starting to cry. Her soft sniffles fill your ears and poison your heart.

“I’m so sorry,” is all you can say to that.

That’s why she called; you’re the only one who understands.

“I didn’t know who else to turn to. I feel so violated…”

“I know what that’s like.”

“I just… I feel so alone. They don’t understand and I–” she breaks off with a sob. “I’m sorry I haven’t called or texted, but I didn’t want to bother you.”

You call her name softly, stopping her right there. “You could never bother me,” you say.

“But–”

“No buts.”

“Your job and everything, I just thought… never mind.”

“Don’t worry about that. I just wish I could help you.”

The distance makes it hard to comfort her, even though you want nothing more than that.

“It’s okay, I guess I just needed to hear your voice. I miss you.”

I miss you. It breaks her heart to hear her so hopeless. You want to hug her, pull her out of this hole, but you can’t. She needs you and you can’t be there. You’ve been so busy trying to be happy that you abandoned the one person in your family who cares about you, and who needs you more than anything because you understand what it’s like to have him as a father. It’s vile that you’re here and she’s over there, the distance too wide and the world too big.

“Yeah,” you murmur, “I miss you too.”

“Thank you. For answering my text and calling back, I mean,” she says.

“Always.” You pause before making a decision. “Listen, I have some money saved,” you tell her. “It’s not a lot, but if you tell me how much your field trip costs, I can send you the money so you can go.”

You can hear her shake her head against the phone. “I can’t accept that.”

“Yes, you can. You’re my sister. I’ll live.”

Truth is, you’re barely making ends meet, your rent being higher than ever after the latest raise and you need your saving, but she is your sister. You might need to pick up a few extra shifts and do overtime; you can get your money back like that.

“Thank you,” she sniffles.

“You’re welcome.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” you say before bidding your goodbyes. “Call me if you need anything else.”

“I will,” Maya says.

“Good.”

One of these days, you will buy her a plane ticket and take her in because you can’t let her stay where she is now. She doesn’t deserve it.

There is a knock on your door. You forgot to text Michael that you were off early, so you don’t exactly expect to see him when you open the door. You were wrong. He’s standing there, his hair disheveled as if he’d run his hands through it a million times. He’s carrying a small back and a scowl on his face.

This can’t be good.

How you’ve become the address for everyone who needs emotional support, you’re not sure, maybe it’s your helpful nature that draws emotionally damaged people in, but as soon as you see his face, you stop thinking about what you need and focus solely on him.

It doesn’t matter much now, anyway.

“Hey,” you say softly.

He looks up at you with his puppy dog eyes. Looking at him you could easily compare him to a puppy who has been kicked to the curb and left there. When his eyes fall upon your face, something switches in him. His bag drops to the floor just at the entrance and he pushes you into the apartment with full force.

You gasp when he slams the door shut, pushing you up against the wall, and then his lips find yours in a passionate embrace.

You push against him. “Mikey,” you breathe against his lips, “What’s wrong?”

This doesn’t feel right. His eagerness to kiss you, to have you. You shouldn’t indulge him, but God, he is such a good kisser, and his hands… They wander over your body and you swear you’re on fire.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says. “I need ya, pet.”

And the tone of his voice says now.

“You’re not yourself,” you try to argue, but your body betrays you.

He pauses, his eyes finally meeting yours, and they seem almost black. “I know,” his voice is raspy, and the heat of the moment dissipates when he leans his forehead against yours.

You bury your hands in the hair on the nape of his neck, closing your eyes. You don’t quite understand what he needs because he doesn’t talk, he simply stays like this with you for a moment.

“I need ta forget,” he whispers then.

Your eyes soften. “Forget what?” you ask.

“I’m gonna tell ya later, but I need you. I need ya so bad, love. Please.”

He doesn’t touch you though, not without your permission, and that says a lot about the kind of man he is.

“This is a bad idea. You shouldn’t use sex as a coping mechanism. I–”

“Say you don’t want it and I’ll stop. Right now. But I’m beggin’ ya. Please.”

He begs. Shit.

His hand cups your cheek. “Please,” he begs again.

You go weak in the knees. He sounds so wracked already. You can feel him against your inner thigh as he presses his leg between yours, keeping you pinned to the wall with all his might. He’s incredibly strong.

“I’m–”

You need him. It’s a voice in your head that screams, and your body yearns for his touch. His hands are still on your hips, and it reminds you of the night you first slept together. He’s good at what he does. And you need him just as badly as he wants you right now.

“Okay,” you cave.

“Okay?” he asks to clarify.

“Yes.”

He exhales. “Thank you.”

He turns into a needy mess as he bunches your dress up around your waist and gets on his knees before you. Oh, that sight… It’s almost enough to make you come. You’re dripping at this point. It only takes a single touch from him and you can’t help it, your body reacts instantly.

Michael grabs your thigh, placing it over his shoulder before he simply pulls your underwear aside – he doesn’t waste time taking them off, he doesn’t have the patience for that and to be quite frank, neither do you.

You throw your head back into the wall when the tip of his tongue circles around your clit.

“Jesus,” he moans against your slick cunt, “Yer fuckin’ drippin’.”

Just a few seconds ago, he was begging to touch you and now you are the one whining at his words, begging him to give you what you need.

His tongue flattens over your folds and you moan softly.

The way he buries his head between your legs looks almost graceful from your point of view. He looks like he is praying, almost, your cunt the altar he worships at. It is wrong to think that way, sinful even and you know you’re going to hell for thinking about God in that context, but you’ve never been the religious kind anyway.

His moans reverberate. He parts your folds just to dip his tongue into your hole. You clench around him and he moans even more. It vibrates and sends shockwaves through your entire body. The pleasure he gives you is overwhelming and yet you need more. And he does so without asking.

His tongue grows rapid with its ministrations. He licks at your entrance before moving back to your clit, sucking it into his mouth. He memorized the motions that drive you crazy. It’s muscle memory.

You reach down to tangle your hand in his hair. Moans tumble from your lips like a symphony. “Mikey,” his name is only a whisper on your lips.

He lifts his head and looks up at you. “What?”

“You’re too good to me.”

He shudders at the subtle praise. “Let me make ya come, yeah?” And then he turns the tables with a simple comment, “You deserve it.”

“Oh, God–”

He dives back in, and he licks at your pussy with new vigor. He’s desperate, playing with your nerves like you’re a piano and he knows all the keys. Your moans and whimpers are the melodies, and they sound oh-so-sweet. You don’t care anymore about being vocal, and he seems to enjoy it.

“Good girl,” he growls. “So fuckin’ good–”

Your moan echoes through the apartment. “Mikey, please!”

“Yeah, that’s it. Yer so close, aren’t you?”

“So fuckin’s close,” you answer breathlessly.

You’re almost there. He drives you higher and higher and higher and–

With a loud cry of his name, your muscles contract, and the orgasm shatters your entire world. It’s intense; your toes curl and you almost lose balance. He holds you up, but you’re shaking like a leaf. Your thigh that’s on his shoulders tries to somehow connect with your other leg to trap him against your cunt, his tongue still relentless in eating up everything you give him.

Eventually, you push him away. “Too much,” you say.

He presses an almost tender kiss to the inside of your thigh before setting it back down. You quiver. Michael catches you with his arms around your waist. “You okay?” he asks.

You nod, holding onto him.

“Such a good girl.”

You meet his lips halfway, tasting yourself on his lips.

“I–” He cradles your cheek, but the words he planned to say die before he can utter them.

Your needy hands struggle with getting his belt open. “What?” you ask.

“Nothin’.” He helps you get the buckle open and pulls it out of his jeans before his lips are on yours again.

Michael encourages you to jump into his arms, and he lifts you almost effortlessly.

“Is this comfortable?” he asks.

Your heart swells. He doesn’t act like he’s about to fuck you against the wall; he’s caring, and you can’t help but get flustered.

“Yeah,” you breathe, “Just fuck me.”

He would never hesitate to comply with your request. You help him get his cock out of his pants. The position is a bit complicated, but you manage to wrap your hand around his shaft and line him up with your entrance. He sinks you down on him and you drop your head into the crook of his neck. “Fuck,” you moan. He feels too good to be true.

“Such a fuckin’ good girl,” he says as he starts thrusting up into you, “Take my cock.”

You cling to him as he sets a ruthless pace. It’s no less passionate than the first time, but his cock drives into you harder now. He hits that spot inside of you just right every time, and you can’t help but cry out in ecstasy. His lips part and he lets out a soft grunt.

He sounds so sweet when he moans. The sound alone makes you clench around his cock, causing him to twitch and change his angle to hit even deeper, and you completely lose it.

The sounds you let out are lewd, his name tumbling from your lips over and over again like a mantra. The feeling of him inside of you is now etched into your brain. You can’t live without it. You got a taste and now you’re addicted, and you get your fill every time he touches you.

His hand finds its way around your throat, not choking but simply holding you there. Your hand wraps around his wrist in return. You know exactly what you need.

“Choke me,” you say.

He lifts his head only momentarily. “What?” he stutters.

“Choke me.”

“Ya want me to choke ya, pet?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck!” He feels your pulse jump under his fingers when he finally squeezes, cutting off your air supply and pushing you straight to the precipice.

“You like that, huh?” He groans into your neck. “Ya like bein’ fucked like this? Chokin’ you, feelin’ my cock in your needy little cunt?”

Who would have thought that his mouth could get any dirtier?

Your pussy grips him like a vice and the moan you let out resembles a gurgled scream. The wall feels harsh against your back, sweat dripping down your body and making the dress you’re wearing stick to your body.

Michael sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. The kiss is sloppy; you wouldn’t call it a kiss but rather a desperate fight of lips and tongue, and you clash in the middle.

You can feel the knot in your stomach tighten. It spreads through your cunt, making you light-headed, and the finish line comes closer and closer and closer–

“Fuck, Mikey, I–” You clench around him once again. “I’m gonna come.”

His fingers dig into your ass cheeks as he lifts you a little higher, allowing your clit to bump against his lower abdomen with every rigorous thrust and you can’t hold it back anymore.

You come undone around his cock, and your heart jumps out of your chest.

He grunts, biting down on your shoulder. He’s close too, you can feel it in the way he’s holding onto you, and his cock twitches inside of you.

He moans your name when he comes, and it’s certainly something else to hear him say it like that, so beside himself and lost in pleasure.

“God,” he groans.

You couldn’t have said it better.

“Fuck,” you return.

“Pet, what are you doin’ to me?”

You’re not sure what he means by that.

“I’m fuckin’ addicted to ya.”

Oh.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

“No, don’t apologize. I just need to have ya, always, all the fuckin’ time.”

Michael gently sets you down. His cum trickles down your thighs. It’s a feeling of belonging to him that consumes you.

“You have me,” your voice is barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” he smiles, “I do.”

You brush a loose strand of hair out of his face. “You wanna talk now?”

He shakes his head. You expected that. But then he opens his mouth anyway and his question catches you off guard. “Can I stay here?” he asks. “Just for a few days, I– I can’t stand bein’ at home. Alone. My head… it just won’t fuckin’ stop thinkin’.”

But it does with you.

“Will you tell me what happened?” you ask, your eyes holding an incredulous look.

“I– It’s not tha’ easy. I can’t just tell ya tha’.”

“You can try to explain it to me.”

“I get why ya don’t trust me in your home, but–”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, I– I trust you, a lot, actually, but I’m… Yeah, I don’t know what I am.”

You pull away from him. He doesn’t like to admit it, but Michael is scared. Scared of losing you, scared of scaring you away; he doesn’t want to be someone you’re scared of, but you seem so damn uneasy.

He reaches out to grab your hand. You let him. With your back turned to him, you try to keep the tears at bay.

It’s too much, you realize, always caring for everyone but yourself, but letting him stay… it is less about him than it is about you. You’re weary. It’s not because of his past – you’re overwhelmed by the feelings you’re having, the changes in your life, and what it means for you.

You’re scared, but not of him. But how do you tell him that without giving yourself away? It’s stupid, but you have gotten used to keeping things to yourself.

You are the sunshine, the light in everyone’s lives and he needs that version of you, not the one that often gets overrun by darkness. You can’t help him when you’re like that, and you want to help him, you have to, you need to, it’s a natural response at this point. For that, you can’t let it get to you.

Though the truth and the anxiety that grips you remind you of the past. Perhaps that is the biggest reason you find yourself scared. But you’re not even sure anymore. You’re not sure of anything except that Michael belongs here; he belongs with you, in your arms because that is where he is safest.

You’re scared of losing him, too. The way he talked about his family and the past… You don’t want him getting dragged into it again, let alone lose him to a stupid mistake, maybe the bullets from a gun– You can’t allow yourself to think like that. Today has been a lot, but it’s not his fault.

You can’t lose another person you care about.

“Ya don’t have ta let me stay,” he says quietly. “I could check into a hotel for a night or two ta get away.”

With a soft shake of your head, you turn back around. “Can you be honest with me?” you ask him instead.

“Can you?” His brown eyes bore into yours.

You want to tell him that it’s not that easy, and that’s when you realize that it’s the same thing he said and you are no better than him when it comes to keeping your feelings to yourself.

Your voice breaks the tense silence, “Stay.”

He sucks in a sharp breath. “You mean it? I don’t wanna impose on your privacy if that’s wha’ ya need. I’m not that kind of person. I’ll live.”

How are you so alike and yet so different at the same time?

“Just stay,” you whisper, “with me. Here. For as long as you need to. It’s just… this is all new to me too, even if I don’t seem like it most of the time. I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t trust you. It wasn’t fair. Of course, I trust you, but there are things… I don’t usually share my space with anyone.”

He gets that.

“But I haven’t been fair this morning, and I am sorry for that. You didn’t do anything wrong, and you don’t have to prove yourself to me. This is on me.”

It’s as good as it gets. You don’t know what else to tell him.

Michael takes a step toward you. His hands find your face and he strokes his thumbs over your cheekbones. Your close your eyes, leaning into the touch.

He pulls you even closer, his breath hitting your forehead as his lips hover above it. He sighs, or maybe he’s smelling you, you’re not sure, but you can tell he’s fighting an internal battle that he hides behind a cage he doesn’t have the key for. The feelings. memories and thoughts come in, but nothing manages to come out. It’s tricky. You know what it feels like.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” his voice cradles your fragile heart. “Yer too good fer me, love. Far too good.”

He leans down to press the softest kiss to your forehead.

Just minutes ago, you were fucking wildly against the wall, and now? Now he’s kissing your forehead and looking at you like you are the most precious thing he has ever seen, and the pain you felt before dissipates.

Your hands move to his biceps, resting there, stroking them through the fabric of his shirt. His muscles are tense, but his eyes are closed and as he holds you, he looks a little less like the kicked puppy who knocked on your door before shamelessly taking you in the only way he needed you then.

You sniffle. You don’t want to cry. “Let’s take a shower,” you say.

He wipes the stray tear from your cheek and nods. “Yeah, sounds grand.”

“And then you can stay.”

“Okay.” The light in his eyes tells you that he is grateful, and you are determined to keep that little flicker of hope alive.

And you truly mean it when you say it; you don’t mind having him around. It’s not just the pleasure. You are drawn to him even more than before.

But you are playing a dangerous game. There is a reason parents tell their children not to play with fire; they’re going to get burned.

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