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#every day. it doesn't matter they leave and they leave and they leave and they don't look back and im left to pick up the pieces go on
hotchscvm · 21 hours
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not his girlfriend
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You're not his girlfriend, but you're the first person to listen to his ramblings. The first time he realizes, he notices he's been talking for too long without taking a breath, and you're still paying attention to what he's saying. Microbiology. You know nothing about the subject, asking him to clarify stuff while he talks. He's surprised because everyone always stops him.
You're not his girlfriend, but he knows your coffee orders. They're all disgustingly sweet, as the teams point out, but he knows what to get depending on the day. No matter how urgent the briefing is, he goes out of his way to stop at your favorite coffee shop. Every day, you're greeted with a fresh cup of coffee and a smile.
You're not his girlfriend, but he comforts you after emotionally hard cases. You often find yourself in his arms after wrapping up the cases, resting your head against his chest, allowing him to stroke your hair. He'll spend the flight next to you, his pinky resting on your arm as a way to ground you without the rest of the team exchanging glances.
You're not his girlfriend, but you don't leave his side when he gets shot on the field. You hold his hand as the paramedics carry him in the ambulance, and you only let go when they take him into surgery. He wakes with you by his side, his fingers immediately intertwining with yours before he's even fully awake. You smile and tell him he's an idiot for taking that bullet for you. He replies back with a smile and a, "Better for me to be injured than you."
You're not his girlfriend, but he makes sure you're paired up on cases. He goes to shooting practices to prove to Hotch he can be on the field with you, to prove that he can protect you. He does the stuff you don't want to, mostly readings you don't want to spend hours on or bagging up a used condom from the toilet.
You're not his girlfriend, but you go to every nerdy event with him. Whether it's a Spock convention or some nature documentary showing, you're there by his side. No longer does he find the seats next to him empty. Instead, when he looks over, he sees you and smiles, because now he's not alone.
You're not his girlfriend, but his mom thinks you are. When you spend a few days in Las Vegas for a case, you visit his mom with him, meeting her for the first time. She greets you, smiling coyly at her son, asking you if you like dating her son. He spends the next few minutes trying to convince her you're just friends. And the rest of the month trying to convince himself.
You're not his girlfriend, but he kills the man holding you hostage. He's the first to notice you gone, and he's the first to burst through the door, gun out. He doesn't bother talking to the unsub, doesn't bother descaling the situation, doesn't bother to wait for the rest of the team to enter before delivering a bullet through the man's head. He doesn't bother stepping over the body before he unties you and takes you in his arms.
You're not his girlfriend, but he covers you with a blanket when you fall asleep. He turns the TV off, placing a pillow under your head softly, making sure you don't wake up with a sore neck. He strokes your cheek with the back of his hand, longing in his eyes as he watches you breathe.
You're not his girlfriend, but he wishes you were.
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thef1diary · 2 days
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hiii could u write a danny or carlos fic based on mess it up by gracie abrams? maybe smtg angsty w happy ending ??
Self Sabotage | D. Ricciardo
Summary: you leave Daniel because things are going too well, but you realize it's the worst decision you've ever made.
© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work.
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Warnings: angst, insecurity (on reader's end), negative thoughts, allusion to childhood trauma, mention of failed past relationships, lil bit of fluff/comfort.
wc: 2.2k
You were waiting for the other shoe to drop. Things had been well between you and Daniel, in fact it was going too well that it worried you.
You believed that there would be a day where Daniel would show his true colours; prove that every promise, every gesture of love he made was nothing but a lie.
That day never came. He loved you endlessly, showering you in gifts and affirmations which only deepened your fear.
Opened two double doors
Despite Daniel's unwavering love and sincerity, you couldn't shake the feeling that you didn't deserve such happiness. Deep-seated insecurities gnawed at you, whispering that it was only a matter of time before you ruined everything.
Unable to bear the weight of your own self-doubt, you made the painful decision to push Daniel away before he could discover the flaws you believed defined you.
Typical, pretty sure I could grow up
With a heavy heart, you packed your belongings in silence, the weight of your decision pressing down on you with each item you carefully placed in boxes. As you moved through the rooms of your shared home, memories flooded your mind, each corner holding echoes of laughter, whispered promises, and tender moments shared with Daniel. The emptiness of the space around you mirrored the ache in your chest as you realized what you were about to leave behind.
With Daniel away, you found solace in the solitude of your departure, sparing both of you the agony of a tearful goodbye. Each item packed was a step closer to severing the ties that bound you together, a painful but necessary act of self-preservation.
Probably chemical
As you closed the door behind you for the last time, the weight of your decision settled over you like a shroud, leaving behind a home that once held the promise of a future you were no longer sure you deserved.
Driving away from the home you once shared with Daniel, tears blurred your vision as you navigated the familiar streets, each turn carrying you further from the life you had built together. The radio played softly in the background, a bittersweet soundtrack to your departure, as memories of happier times intertwined with the ache of loss.
I took up walking to turn it all off
Despite the pain, a small voice inside whispered that you were doing the right thing, that by leaving, you were sparing Daniel the burden of loving someone who couldn't love themselves. Yet, even as you tried to convince yourself that this was for the best, doubt crept in, casting shadows of regret over your decision.
You grip the steering wheel tightly, your knuckles turning white as you navigate the familiar streets. Glancing at the passenger seat, you see a photo of you and your boyfriend, smiling blissfully. It feels like a mockery now, a reminder of what you shattered.
Doesn't feel bearable
With a huff, you turned it over so you don't see his handsome smile staring back at you that always led you right into his arms, his laugh that was contagious enough to make you laugh as well.
You couldn't stop thinking about him or all the reasons you fell in love with him. He was perfect and unfortunately you didn't believe that you were enough for him.
Guess I thought when I left it would all stop
Opening the window, you let the breeze gather your thoughts and whisk them all away, both negative and positive. All you knew was that you had to leave him because it was good for him. He could find someone better than you, much better.
Your phone buzzes, his name flashing on the screen. You hesitate before answering, your heart pounding in your chest.
"Hey," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
Hmm, it would all stop
"Hey, babe! What are you up to?" His voice is filled with warmth, but you can't shake the guilt building inside you.
"Nothing, just hanging about, you know how it is without you," you reply, forcing a smile you know he can't see.
"You sound a bit off. Is everything okay?" Concern colors his words.
When I told you "I'm fine", you were lied to
"Yeah, everything's fine. Just tired from the day, I guess," you lie, the weight of your deceit heavy on your chest.
"Okay, well, I miss you. I can't wait to get back to you," he says, his longing evident in his voice.
"I miss you too," you reply, feeling the sting of your betrayal with every word. You did truly miss him and you know that you would miss him even more as time would go on.
How could I think that all that I gave you was enough?
As you hang up the phone, you're consumed by guilt. You know what you're doing is wrong, but you can't stop now.
You continue driving, the weight of your decision bearing down on you with each passing mile. The road stretches endlessly ahead, mirroring the uncertainty gnawing at your conscience.
'Cause every time I get too close, I just go mess it up
Daniel's words echo in your mind, his longing for you palpable even through the phone. You can't shake the image of his face, filled with love and trust, oblivious to the lie you've just told him.
Even with the music and open windows, the car still becomes suffocating. You steal another glance at the photo frame you flipped over on the passenger seat, your heart twisting with guilt.
Funny that didn't work
A sudden urge to turn back grips you, but you push it aside. It's too late now, you tell yourself. You've made your choice.
Half an hour passes, the landscape blurring into a haze of regret and doubt. Your mind races with what-ifs and maybes, each one a dagger to your already wounded conscience and heart.
Suddenly, your phone rings again, jolting you out of your thoughts. Daniel's name flashes on the screen, but this time you don't pick up his call.
I could be anywhere, I'm on your block
"I'm sorry, Daniel," you whisper, turning off your phone so you don't see another call or text from him.
A wave of sadness washes over you, mingled with a tinge of guilt. Despite knowing deep down that leaving Daniel was the right decision for both of you, it doesn't make the pain any easier to bear.
Cynical, terrible
You take a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling hands as you focus on the road ahead. Each mile feels like an eternity, the weight of your decision heavy on your heart.
Memories of your time with Daniel flood your mind – the laughter, the shared dreams, the moments of pure joy that you thought would last forever. But somewhere along the way, the cracks began to form, the doubts and insecurities creeping in your mind until it threatened to consume you both.
Kicking myself with my gut in a knot
As you drive further and further away from him, you can't help but wonder if you've made a mistake. What if you're throwing away the best thing that ever happened to you? What if you'll never find someone who understands you the way Daniel did?
But then you remember the tears you shed, the sleepless nights spent without him, agonizing over whether to stay or go. You remember the feeling of suffocation, of being trapped in a relationship that was slowly suffocating you purely because you never felt such love before. Instead of accepting it, or at least telling him about it, you chose to endure it until it became unbearable.
'Cause I heard that you're happier
Perhaps you couldn't find someone better than Daniel, he was truly one of the best ones. But that thought didn't deter you away from your decision because you were the one always causing problems, always letting your own thoughts become the reason to end a relationship.
As you drive on into the night, you realize that leaving Daniel was the only way to save him from you. It wasn't easy, and it certainly wasn't painless, but you know in your heart that it was the right thing to do.
Hope that you're sleeping well knowing I'm not
In the weeks following the breakup, a sense of emptiness settled over you like a heavy fog, each day passing in a blur of regret and longing. As you reflected on what had led you to push Daniel away, you couldn't escape the realization that your own insecurities and past traumas had played a significant role in sabotaging the one good thing in your life.
Memories of past relationships haunted your thoughts, whispering tales of betrayal and heartbreak, leaving you unable to fully trust in the love Daniel offered so freely. Childhood wounds, buried deep beneath layers of self-preservation, resurfaced with a vengeance, casting doubt on your worthiness of happiness.
I'm doing too much, hmm
In the quiet moments of solitude, you found yourself grappling with the harsh reality of your actions, longing to turn back the hands of time and undo the damage you had wrought. With each passing day, the weight of regret grew heavier, until it became too much to bear.
He called many times when you finally turned your phone on, but you were too much of a coward to reply to any of his messages. You could tell he was hurt based on the voicemails he left, asking what he did wrong for you to leave abruptly. Daniel had wanted to surprise you by coming home a day early, and you ruined it by not being there.
Did I fall out of line when I called you?
Just like you ruined everything else in your life. You cried yourself to sleep that night, lulling yourself by playing his voicemails over and over again because despite his tone revealing he cried, he still loved you.
Summoning all the courage you could muster, you sought out Daniel, driven by an overwhelming need to make amends, to lay bare the truth of your fears and insecurities.
When I told you "I'm fine"
You stood on the step in front of the house you once called yours, and if everything went well, it would be yours again along with his.
Daniel opened the door, shock covering his features. He gazed at you from head to toe, checking if you were injured but once he was satisfied, his gaze hardened as it connected with yours.
"Daniel," you began, your voice trembling with emotion as you stood before him, "I need to talk to you."
You were lied to
Noticing the hesitation in your tone, his eyes softened, finally coming to a realization that you were truly standing in front of him after being left alone for weeks.
"What happened?" he asked, concern lacing his words. He itched to touch you, to hold you, but he needed to know your stance on your relationship.
How could I think that all that I gave you was enough?
Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to find the right words. "I'm so sorry," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I made a mistake. I let my fears get the best of me, and I pushed you away."
Daniel's brow furrowed in confusion and worry. Ignoring the voice in his head to stay away, he pulled you closer, hugging you and sighing as he found relief by having you in his arms.
I keep thinking maybe if you let me back in
"Why did you push me away? We could've talked," he muttered as he felt your tears wetting the crook of his neck. "It's... it's complicated," you replied, your voice cracking with emotion.
He pulled back, "did I do something?"
You quickly shook your head, "no, you're perfect. I got scared. Scared of getting hurt again, of letting someone in only to be left broken and alone. But I see now that I let my past dictate my future, and I lost sight of what truly mattered, how much you mattered."
We can make it better, breaking every habit
Silence hung heavy between you, the weight of your confession filling the space between your hearts. Then, finally, Daniel spoke, his voice soft but filled with pain. "I don't understand why you didn't talk to me about this sooner," he said, his eyes searching yours for answers.
"I was afraid," you admitted, tears streaming down your cheeks. "Afraid that if I opened up to you, you would see the broken pieces of me and walk away. But now I realize that keeping you at arm's length was the biggest mistake of my life."
Pull myself together, you could watch it happen
Daniel reached out, gently wiping away your tears with his thumb. "I'm not going anywhere," he said, his voice firm with conviction. "I love you, flaws and all. But we need to work through this together, okay?"
With a trembling smile, you nodded, feeling the weight of his words lift the burden from your shoulders.
In that moment, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand, guided by the light of love and forgiveness.
Let it happen, let it happen
Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @wonnou @jointhehunt67 @gxuh @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @xjval @namjoonswaifu @isabellewinchester @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet @xoxonoire
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maraudersmyloves · 2 days
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hii! i have a request i thought of a few days ago, fem!reader x slytherin boys (mainly mattheo riddle) where they noticed something wrong with her and she lies about it and mattheo says something along the line of “cut the bullshit”
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CW: cussing, Angst, insecure reader, screaming, Arguing
You've been hanging out with the Slytherins less and less, not eating with them or hanging out at Blaise's Dorm after class.
That Fact alone wouldn't be unusual. It's exam Season after all and you often spend that time holed up in your Dorm, Studying and Eating what your Roommates bring you up.
The Problem occurs when you stop coming to Sunday Hangouts.
It's not an actual Agreement or anything, but it's become a Routine never broken.
Never.
No matter what's going on, on Sunday at around 9 PM you all meet at the Greenhouse.
Mattheo's always the first there and Tom's the last.
Pansy never figured out a certain time she would arrive while Draco always turns up at exactly 9:06:56
Down to the motherfucking Second
Blaise always brings a Book he doesn't read, Theo always forgets the Snacks he's supposed to bring and brings the sweets only he likes instead, while you always bring a Sketchbook.
It's 9:34 and you're not here.
You weren't there last week but Blaise convinced the others to talk about it Today.
Mattheo was stressing about talking with you and got into an all-time high of fights all week.
Now, you're not here.
Everyone is here
Except for you
It's pissing Mattheo off and at this point, the others are just as peeved
You are in your room crying
You know you should be at the Greenhouse rn, and doing anything else feels weird
The last 3 years you have spent every Sunday at the Greenhouse
For two weeks you haven't
The Slytherins loudly knock on your door and you quickly wipe away the tears, taking a few deep breaths to seem more collected
Mattheo sees your red eyes and is immediately worried although anger quickly overcomes him
Why didn't you tell him something was wrong?
God, why can you never just talk to him??
"Oh, hi guys!"
You force a smile but they see through it
"Wtf, y/n. Where have you been, what's going on???"
"I've just been studying, you know how i get"
"Cut the crap, wtf is actually going on?"
Blaise pulls him back a bit to not make you feel cornered
Theo steps forward, missing the point of Mattheo getting pulled back "We worry!! You can't just cut contact for two weeks. We excused you not coming to hang out last week but two times in a row?!"
"Calm down guys, I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation to all of this, Right?" Pansy says, but the last words have some venom you didn't expect.
Not from her
Your best Friend
Hot tears fall from your eyes and Tom pulls Pansy to the side while Mattheo steps closer, his eyes filled with worry
"Mi Vida? Can I hug you?"
His Voice is soft and his open Arms look so inviting.
You want to step back and say no so badly when you remember the words that caused this, but you can't bring yourself to do so. Silently nodding
He wraps his arms around you in a matter of seconds pulling you as close as he can.
You can hear Blaise's annoyed voice talk the others into leaving you alone
He is the only one smart enough to realize how overwhelmed you are
One after the other they usher out
All with various amounts of Backtalk, while you and Mattheo stay still. Standing in the middle of the now empty room, Papers and Books scattered all around you, Mattheo buries his Head in your Neck.
"Wanna tell me what's wrong, baby?"
Pt. 2 with Backstory and more Angst?
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et6rnalsun · 2 days
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𝜗𝜚 CHRIS SMUT / IN BED HCS
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౨ৎ pairing / chris sturniolo x fem! reader
౨ৎ cw / smut, +18
— A/N ⁑ enjoy!! remember that english is not my first language. ( masterlist )
— buddy is obsessed with your ass. hes gonna smack it, no matter where you are and what youre wearing, whether tight jeans or leggings, he will do it. a playful little whistle every time you walk past him and his eyes are immediately on it. he loves when it's hot just because he knows you'll be wearing shorts that are just a few inches longer than your panties.
"she knows how to throw that shi back" this is what he'll say when someone points it out.
& this is one of the reasons why he loves fucking you from behind, and you really don't care if the next day you can barely sit down from all the bruises he leaves on your sensitive skin.
— sloppy sloppy kisses. his tongue will find its way into your mouth every time you two kiss, even if it was an innocent one initially.
he does it shamelessly in public, often m your complaints. the excessive saliva ana obvious tongue embarrass you, since you know people can see it, but he shake it off saying that everyone knows about your relationship so why hide it?
he just really likes kissing you & everytime he's pounding into you, his hand is wrapped around his neck as he kisses you senseless, swallowing your moans.
— is always down for a head. always. this man is really clear when he desperately wants one. keeps raising his hips n shit.
he's not very nice when you finally do it. his fingers tangled in your hair as he continues to push your head down, not even pausing when you gag. (everybody say !! HEAD PUSHER !! in unison)
"come on, i know you can take it, just breathe with your nose doll" he says when you try to pull away, looking at your watery eyes and the tears rolling down your red cheeks. he feels like he can cum just by looking at you.
— i just feel like he's into angry sex and stuff like that. loves to fuck you hard after an argument that has gone on too long, he loves to remove your bratty attitude with his cock that barely even fits in you.
constant teasing, mimicking the things you said when you were angry. he only takes things slowly because he knows you're impatient. he's the perfect bastard that makes you so damn desperate
AND he doesn't let you cum. but he lets you watch while he does. because you don't deserve your orgasm, only his.
can't blame him, he's just getting revenge. <3
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likes & reblogs are highly appreciated.
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emeraldborealis · 15 hours
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Grotesque
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x FEM!reader
TW//CW: DARK FIC, stalking, vibes of somnophilia ish, sexual harassment, nonconsensual touching, threats, mention of cannibalism but no cannibalism, threatened necrophilia, a creep calls reader a whore, murder, graphic depictions of gore, blood, shock induced mania, talk of human taxidermy, no use of y/n. Dead dove do not eat. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION.
Words: 4,641
A/N: Now you may be wondering, Emerald, what the actual hell is this? Well, I wanted to know if I could still write dark fics. And I thought it was time to remind everyone this started as a horror writing blog.
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STOP! Have you heeded the warnings on this fic?
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People say something special happens when you fall in love, that suddenly everything else doesn't matter. That there's a warmth and gentleness that grows inside of you towards the other person.
But not for Ghost.
Ghost doesn't deal in warm gentleness. Simon did, but Simon is dead and buried in Mexico.
When Ghost saw you he did feel something sudden, an urge to keep everyone else away from you, an urge to protect, an urge to keep and shepherd. 
So he did.
From a distance he kept his eye on you, watched you go through your days, completely unsuspecting. Or so he thought.
You knew he was there, you knew from day one. Knowing he was there was more of a comfort than a fear, so when the sound of your front door opening in the middle of the night came to your ears you were more than content to pretend you were still asleep.
Keeping your breathing even and deep, keeping your expression neutral, letting nothing tip him off to the fact you were awake was a skill you learned in your youth, one you needed to survive the house you grew up in.
You were lonely, and you were alright with him taking advantage of that. You wanted him in your life because there was nothing else in your life. A phantom, a ghost willing to watch over you. Something that stayed in the dark, content with silent control.
His footsteps were light coming down the hall, almost silent, if you weren't listening for him you wouldn't have heard him. You wondered how many times he'd come and you hadn't woken up.
Hearing him pause in the hallway you imagined him looking at your photos, committing them all to memory, each one of their locations and if they were perfectly level or not. You knew he'd take in every detail before moving on, he just seemed like the type.
Your door used to make noise when it opened, but a month back it suddenly stopped. A reminder of his silent presence ever lingering, you often wondered if he'd fixed other things for the convenience of his watching, of his sneaking.
Nothing was allowed to jeopardize his stalking, nothing was allowed to tip you off to his presence. Nothing was allowed to give you evidence to stop him.
Listening, you heard him move silently through your room, coming to stand beside your bed, your acting was imperceivable, especially when you weren't looking for it.
You didn't react when the soft feeling of a gloved hand trailed over your face, the glove was rough, but he used it gently, kept his touch featherlight, barely even there.
His hand went from your face down your exposed arm, feeling the lovely skin of your appendage sticking out of the blankets for the sake of regulating your body temperature. The feeling nearly made gooseflesh blossom on your skin, nearly made you shudder. Do sleeping people shudder? Looking into that could be good for future visits from your stalker.
You felt his figure lean over you, breathing you in like a bad habit, when he was satisfied he moved from your side of the bed to the other side. Gently, he laid himself down, stiff as a board laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. You were familiar with this routine by now.
He laid like a corpse, his hands clasped together over his chest. He never did more than this, never touched, never hurt. He just laid beside you for a few hours before leaving just as silently as he came, always making sure to whisper 'sweet dreams' to you before leaving hours before your alarm for work would blare into your room.
Every once and a while you would dare to put your arm over him, sometimes he moved your arm gently off of him, sometimes he let it stay.
Sometimes he watches you sleep, either facing you in bed or sitting in your desk chair.
You wished you understood him, understood why he does the things he does. Wish you understood why he didn't do certain things.
He really was a ghost, your Ghost. A mystery you weren't sure you'd ever figure out.
Rolling onto your back you flopped your arm on him, not holding him, just touching him, testing him. He didn't remove your arm this night, he let it stay, resting right above where his hands were.
You had no clue what he looked like, not really. The few times you dared a peak he was wearing a balaclava with a skull on it. But you'd grown familiar with how he breathed, the rise and fall of his large chest. That was what mattered to you, not his face. Not who he was under the skull.
Feeling him beside you didn't feel wrong, it didn't feel nauseating or dangerous. He had the capability to do harm, but he'd never left any indication that was his intention. He just seemed interested in watching you live your life. Why? You didn't know.
Sometimes you thought about what would happen if he decided to have malicious intent, how far he might go. What he might do. He was a strange man stalking you, and you were letting him. 
You were just asking to be an episode on a true crime podcast, solved or unsolved? What would it be? You suspected unsolved, even if you lived.
If he killed you how would he do it? It was interesting to think about. Would he hack you into pieces? String you apart, pull at your nervous system. Dissect you like a frog. Maybe he'd fillet you, hang you up and eat you. Or perhaps he'd take it slower, break your ankles and watch you starve to death helpless on the floor, he did like to watch you.
If he hurt you, if he touched you, he'd want to watch you as he did it. He'd want to see your face as it contorted into pain.
Really at the end of the day he was a man, no different from any other, you were risking just as much being around him as any other man. At least you believed if he witnessed another man trying to attack you he'd intervene, protect his territory.
His belongings.
Did he see himself as your keeper? Or more like a guard dog? What were his intentions here? Why was he this little shadow in your life? It seemed like he was always there, a force that lingered around you.
Your Ghost, something that was becoming a more common name for him in your mind. It seemed fitting.
To say you weren't attached to him would be a lie, he's grown on you, something consistent, something you could make yourself believe was there to be good for you. You were becoming just as infatuated with him as he seemed to be with you.
You were comfortable falling asleep beside him, letting him stay as long as he wanted before leaving. He always locked the door on his way out, after all, he was the only one allowed to creep into your home.
Shifting in bed you got more comfortable, you needed to let yourself fall back asleep if you wanted to be able to function well at work tomorrow. Your Ghost paid no mind to your shifting, he's watched you sleep in actuality and faking it enough to believe he'll never get caught. Not knowing he already has been.
At some point in the night you vaguely feel the bed shift, faintly hear his deep voice whisper something in your ear, and his soft footsteps as he leaves.
In the morning there was no trace of him, nothing tipping you off to the fact he was ever even there, nothing but your memory.
You dreaded your arrival at work, dreaded seeing him. 
Brian.
A creep in HR, you would have reported him by now but he was who you would file those reports to. You didn't know who else to file a report to, nothing was serious enough for police intervention. 
At least there was no evidence serious enough for police intervention.
Sometimes you hoped your Ghost knew about him, that he was watching your back, though you doubted he watched you at work. Still, the thought of him handling this was not unwelcome. You took a strange comfort in it actually.
Brian was not welcome in your life, he was pushy, touchy, didn't understand boundaries. Something about him gave you the heebie-jeebies, like he was doing all sorts of nefarious things to you in his mind, planning them out, waiting to execute them.
You hated how he watched you, he was doing more than just undressing you with his eyes. Something about the way he looked at you made you feel like he wanted to do more to your skin than just molest it. Do more than possess and sink under your surface.
He looked to covet. Your Ghost looked to encroach and observe.
You liked how your Ghost watched you, like a guard dog willing to be sicked on anyone, to be your defense, to get them off of you, to keep them away from you.
"Come on, doll. When are you going to agree to come over? Let me pour you a drink, I promise I can mix you up something you'll like. Or at least let me drive you home sometime, there's no need to take the train when it's raining. Don't want you catching a cold." Brian cooed to you, walking with you as you made your way to the elevator, he always waited for you.
You'd only step into the elevator with him when it was crowded, otherwise you'd wait, make an excuse and talk to the lady at the front desk until you saw someone you knew would go up to your floor or above.
You refused to be alone with him. Not even for a second.
"I don't drink. And I like the rain." You shot him down, trying to step around him, but his arm caught your waist, stopping you.
"Okay, how about we watch a movie? Play a game?" He gave your waist a squeeze, testing your patience. He was a persistent man who believed he would get what he wanted. You wondered how many times he had. How many girls came before you.
"I'm not interested." Spinning out of his hold you continued walking towards the elevator, a good group of people already waiting.
"Come on, doll. I'll make it worth your time." He trailed after you.
You didn't like the thought that he had access to your address, that he might know where you lived, that all he'd have to do to figure it out is look at your personal records.
"I have a boyfriend. We're serious, he stays the night almost every night. I'm not interested." A small lie, laced with truth, you did have a man who stays the night. Your Ghost. You needed him to know you weren't alone at night.
There was a warning light in your brain that was starting to predict something. Something was coming. How does the quote go? 'By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.'
Something was coming, something you were not sure how to stop. You were in terrible danger, you could feel it in the way his hands defiled you with their touch. Scorching and burning with how atrocious it was.
"That's alright, I just want to spend time with you. Nothing serious." Everyday he grew more bold. A predator closing in on their prey.
You were not going to be a boiled frog, you knew when this started, and you know the temperature is rising to dangerous peaks.
How many girls has he done this to?
How many.
"I don't think my boyfriend would like that, he's protective." Joining the others waiting on the elevator you watched the floor indicator, nearly holding your breath waiting for it to reach ground level.
"Protective? I'm no danger." Leaning in closer he whispered in your ear, careful now that you were surrounded by people. No witnesses. No one else could hear his persistence, it might one day arise suspicion.
"I like to spend time with him when I'm off work. I'm a busy person." You took a breath as the elevator doors opened, stepping inside with everyone else.
"We'll talk more about this later. I just want to get to know the next employee of the month better." His voice was sickeningly charming, his words derailing your train of thought.
"What?" You hadn't heard anything about that, you weren't even super important in your department. He was baiting you with reward. Setting himself up as innocent, someone who was rooting for you. A devastated work friend when he hears of your inevitable disappearance.
He played this game too well.
How many girls came before?
How many times has he gotten away with this?
"I pulled some strings, got you some well earned recognition. We need to celebrate it." His smile was all teeth, unnatural. It was a threat.
You really couldn't tell anyone about this now, not after he's painted himself as the good guy. Just trying to get employee's recognition. You'd sound like an ungrateful asshole. No one would listen.
No one would listen.
"Today, we will celebrate today." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. 
Whatever he was planning, whatever he was going to do to you, he was going to do it today. Nothing was going to stop him or get in his way. He was coming for you, going for the throat. 
You worked in paranoia and unease, took an early lunch just to avoid any possibility of running into him and completely left the building, went to a very public place for lunch. Didn't even pay attention to what you ordered, not even sure you paid before walking away. You got your food though, so someone paid.
In your panicked state you were struggling to pay any attention to the people around you, only looking for one person in the crowds of people. But he wasn't there. Brian wasn't there. Not that you could see.
Running into someone on your way to the door out of the restaurant you apologize, catching his eyes, they were brown. He was tall, well built. Dirty blonde. He oozed an energy that settled you, like your body knew him. Of course it didn't, you'd never seen this man in your life. There was just something about him.
"No worries, love." You couldn't shake your feeling of deja vu hearing his voice. "Keep your head on straight, no ones goin' to get you."
What an odd thing to say to a stranger.
"Um, thanks." You didn't know what else to say. How else to respond. You stand in front of him a moment more, awkwardly looking at him. There was just something about him you couldn't place. 
Checking the time you turned to walk away, you were going over your thirty minute lunch break. You needed to get back to work. Even if you'd rather have your eyes gouged out than have the possibility to run into Brian ever again. 
You were jumpy the rest of the work day, hypervigilant to everything around you. It wasn't atypical for Brian to interrupt your work, but he didn't come to bother you today. 
You tried to leave work early to avoid him, but he was already waiting for you when you reached the main floor. 
"I missed you at lunch today." There was something sinister in his eyes, something that didn't match his tone of forced pleasantry. "No matter. We'll go to that new pub tonight. We can meet there or I will pick you up." It was a threat, a subtle way to make sure you knew he knew where you lived. That he would come for you if you tried to skip out on him.
You'd rather he come to your house. Maybe your faithful watchdog would step in, maybe he'd help you. Maybe he'd stop him. Protect what's his. 
If not, you'd rather have whatever's going to happen, happen somewhere you know. Somewhere you've once felt safe. You'd rather die surrounded by your memories than wherever he'd take you, somewhere probably cold and unfeeling. 
"Okay." You had nothing else to say, rejection wouldn't work. This wasn't ever going to be a date, this was always going to be an assault. 
You were scared. A cornered animal with no way out. Despite your best efforts the water was starting to boil, and you had let it happen. 
Getting home didn't calm your nerves, it almost made them worse. Waiting for the arrival of the beast, waiting to be devoured, bones and all. 
Is this how the spring lambs feel? Screaming as they go down the line to the slaughter. All just to satisfy a man's hunger. 
Is that all women are good for? Satisfying men's hunger, lust, need for violence. Has it always been this way? Women are fucked and murdered. Will they ask what you were wearing? Blame the victim like they always do. 
Like they always do.
Maybe this would have eventually happened with your Ghost too, maybe this was just how the world works. Maybe men just have that right.
It was inevitable, unpreventable. 
It was late when the knock finally came, the sun long gone. There was nothing, no one who would shine a light on what was about to happen. Only the women with their podcasts will ever wonder what really happened to you. What led to this. 
Making eye contact with your front door only death stared back. Wicked wasn't coming. Wicked was here upon you, waiting for you to open the door for it to come in and take you. 
The knock came again, like the toll of a bell. Ringing through your ears like a sick mantra. There was no way out of this. There was nothing you could do.
Your feet shuffled towards the door, it was like walking down death row. 
The bell tolls for you. 
There was a hope inside of you that you'd open the door to your Ghost, that he's come to save you. That you could let in your stalker rather than your murderer. 
Grasping your doorknob felt like grabbing red hot metal, scorching and branding your skin, the last thing that would probably ever have your full set of fingerprints. 
You wondered if you'd fight, if you'd fight to survive or if you'd let him kill you.
It's a strange feeling, coming face to face with your mortality. 
Slowly you twisted the doorknob, letting the devil in. 
"I knew you'd let me in." The door was pushed open, pushing you back, removing your last barrier. Bringing you face to face with Brian. "A whore like you was probably just waiting for a guy like me to come along. You wanted this. Didn't you? You want me to ravage you, don't you? So needy."
He was clutching his stomach, he was bleeding. He'd been stabbed. 
You couldn't make sense of it. Was it your Ghost? Where was he now? Was he dead? Did he try to stop this? 
Brian reached for you, making you stumble back, out of his grasp. 
"Don't." Your feet wouldn't take you farther, they wouldn't let you run away. They'd take you right where he couldn't reach you, but they wouldn't let you get away. 
Maybe you did want this. Maybe every girl wanted this. Maybe that's why men thought it was okay.
"Come on, don't be like that. I know I kept you waiting but I got held up." He took a step closer, stalking towards you. "You'll look so good with the others."
No.
You didn't want this. You never wanted this. No one ever wanted this. 
This wasn't right.
He didn't have the right.
Your mind was flittering, it was hard to make it work, hard to force yourself to stay present. It's always been hard to make it work in situations like this, it hurts less when you just let yourself get hurt. But you didn't want to be hurt anymore. 
"Don't touch me." You took another step back, he was blocking the front door, but you could get out the back. Maybe someone will help you, maybe your neighbors will let you in.
"Come on, you knew it'd always come to this. I'm taking you home." You should have done more, should have opened the door with a knife. Should have been ready for him.
"No. You're not." Turning you ran, struggling with the backdoor for a moment in your adrenaline and panic, but you got it open. Slipping out you held down a scream, it wouldn't help you right now to lose your mind screaming. You needed to get away.
You didn't get far before he was on you.
Hands pushed you down to the ground, flipping you on your back, his hands found purchase on your neck, pulling you up before bashing you down, knocking the wind out of you. "A pretty doll like you would be better stuffed, skin perfectly preserved and taxidermied. Of course it would be better if I could have killed you without leaving damage, your bastard friend made sure that couldn't be a possibility. He got his, and you'll get yours."
Hands squeezed at your throat, the pressure in your head overwhelming, your eyes felt like they were going to pop out of your skull. Maybe that would help with the pressure.
"I'll separate your head from your body, that will take care of these marks. I'll figure something out for the rest of the damage. But don't worry, I'll turn you into a work of art. You'll be the prettiest out of them all." 
Wrestling with your panicking body he slotted himself between your legs to continue to choke you, pressing uncomfortably into you. A promise of what would come once you stopped moving.
You were going to die. He was going to kill you.
You were going to die.
Your hands desperately reached out, searching. Searching for anything that could help you. This couldn't be it, he couldn't do this. You couldn't die.
Finding a large rock you took hold of it with all your might, bashing it against his head, making him fall limp on top of you, blood from his head soaking into your hair, his face partially on yours.
His open mouth wreaked of Benson & Hedges cigarettes and tooth rot, saliva leaking onto your cheek. Pushing with all your might you shoved him off, adrenaline didn't allow for your hand to relax enough to drop your rock, the veins in your arms rising to the surface.
When his face scrunched and his body twitched you could hear a scream. Was that you? You didn't know anymore. Your body moved without prompt, bashing him again. And again, and again.
You hardly flinched as the blood peppered your skin, drops of crimson spraying your face. You bashed to the symphony of bones cracking, it was the only thing you could hear, the only thing filling your ears, and yet you continued, bashing until the rock in your hands was hard to hold, slippery and covered in red and grey matter.
You bashed until you felt the rock connect with the damp grass through where his face once was, nothing recognizable left of his head, nothing but the skull fragments and brain matter. Everything else was unidentifiable.
Horror and shock filled you at the sight, he wasn't dead was he? He couldn't be. He can't be dead. He wasn't a person who was dead, so he couldn't be dead.
Desperately you felt for a pulse on his neck. You didn't find one. As a last ditch effort you checked the hole of his stab wound in his stomach. It was warm. He was still warm.
He was okay. He was alright. Dead people aren't warm.
But that warmth meant he wasn't done, he wasn't done killing you, he hadn't succeeded yet. The thought made you scream. He wasn't done with you.
He hadn't succeeded yet, and he was supposed to succeed, that was his goal wasn't it? He couldn't fail. You couldn't have stopped him, you weren't capable of that. You were just a girl. You didn't have that right.
You needed more of his warmth, needed it coating you. Needed him to finish his task. His warmth was proof he would.
Searching for more you pressed your fingers inside, warmth squishing around your fingers, it felt good. Familiar almost. A familiar squelch. 
It was what you needed. More. More. More.
Wriggling your fingers inside you tested the limits of the wound, it wouldn't stretch farther, you couldn't get to more of his warmth.
But you needed more.
Getting fingers in from both hands you searched for grip through the unending amounts of red liquid around your hands.
Finding it you pulled, tearing it apart, the feeling of ripping flesh a rewarding feeling.
You were getting more, getting to the warmth. 
Your digits were digging now, puncturing into his gut, ripping and tearing, pulling out viscera and entrails. Blood perfectly coated the scene, coated you, painting an elegant picture in rouge, and most importantly, warmth.
There was a need, a desire, this couldn't be over yet, he couldn't be done yet. He wasn't done yet. You weren't dead yet, so he wasn't done.
Something pulled tight around your neck, a scarf of the small intestine, wrapping, suffocating. Pulled this tight it almost felt like his hands lovingly around your neck once more, crushing your windpipe. This was that beautiful feeling you were looking for, this was what you needed.
He wasn't done, he hadn't finished yet. You weren't dead yet, but now he could finish, now his slick warmth could finish the job.
Pulling tighter on the two ends of the thin warm viscera that same pressure in your skull was building again, a fuzziness in your vision. You couldn't breathe. It was perfect.
You needed more.
Pulling harder the scarf tightened, it wasn't enough yet, you needed to pull tighter, harder.
With the grotesque sound of tearing the pressure around your neck was gone. Air now filling your lungs in gasps, a burning feeling accompanying each inhale.
Looking down you were still holding the intestine, now in two pieces, the fluids from inside of it making your skin irritated and itchy.
He'd failed. Again.
Hearing a sound from behind you didn't startle you, turning your head your eyes met the hollow eyes of your Ghost, the white of his skull balaclava nearly glowing in the dark. "I broke him." You mumbled, disappointed, presenting the two ends of his guts to him. "You would have finished the job, right? You wouldn't have broke?"
"Of course, love." Crouching beside you he wiped the blood on your check. "I wouldn't break on you like 'e did."
"He wasn't done. He was supposed to kill me. And now he's just a mess. A useless mess. And I'm covered in him." Tears fell from your eyes, your voice whining out of your sore throat.
"Don't cry, you're perfect." Your Ghost pulled the intestine from your hands, letting it fall onto the heap of Brian's unidentifiable carcass. "Come on now, let's get you cleaned up."
The feeling of his arms slipping around your back and under your knees wasn't repulsive like it was when Brian would touch you, your Ghost's touch wasn't nauseating.
Hoisting you up your Ghost carried you away from the scene. "But what about the mess here?"
"I've called people who will come take care of it, I 'ave connections. The police will get involved, 'is victims families deserve to know what 'appened to them. But nothin' bad will happen to you. You'll be just fine. I'll make sure of it. I'm takin' care of you now, love. There's nothin' to worry about." His voice was soothing, the nose of his skull balaclava pressing against your temple. "I've got you now."
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fuckmeyer · 22 hours
Text
the choice between Edward & Jacob is not a question of which relationship is healthier or which partner is best suitable for Bella. neither is correct. neither is best. neither produces a happy ending for Bella. at the end of the day this is still a vampire novel. any choice Bella could make would yield, at best, a bittersweet happily ever after.
if she chooses Edward, she gets the terrifying Breaking Dawn ending: a girl who rejected her call to grow up has hung her love & her eternity on an emotionally stunted partner who hates himself marginally less than he loves her. she's a teen mom with a kid she never wanted who perpetuates the generational trauma passed down from her parents. by keeping this child, the Cullens have set the stage for an uprising/cold war against the Volturi who are likely to take revenge in order to maintain power. Bella is living in a tenuous "dream come true" wrapped in a nightmare & doesn't realize it.
choosing Jacob is the true coming-of-age ending that rips the stitches out of a wound that never fully healed. even if we ignore the fact that she ends up with a man who sexually assaulted her (we must bear in mind Jacob's character is influenced by smeyer's racism, but it did happen), they can't have a secure romantic relationship. based on the high imprinting rate of the pack, Jacob will likely find his imprint in his lifetime & will lose himself to the imprintee. he will no longer be her Jacob. he will inevitably abandon her (whether he wants to or not), & she must reconcile with the reality that she will always be inadequate to Jacob's imprint. & say he never manages to escape the vampires? he will presumably not age for a long time, meaning the relationship Bella always feared with Edward (her being an old grandmother while he stays forever young) remains a possibility. this is the story of a girl who slaps a Band Aid on an open wound & calls herself healed while flinching every time she sees the shadow of the knife that cut her.
if she chooses neither (team therapy), her healing requires her to lose or be at least partially disconnected from everyone she cares about. Bella must spend the rest of her life shut out from one world while never fully existing in her human world ever again. she must always keep secrets. she can never go back home. even in the unlikely event that she manages to escape the Volturi, the threat of being hunted by vampires will never leave her. in addition, she must face her worst fears (aging, losing Edward) while always keeping in mind the immortal life that could have been hers, if only.
even the "healthiest" option produces scars that will never quite heal.
Twilight is a horror. Twilight is a vampire novel. Twilight is gothic. Twilight is fiction. neither Edward nor Jacob is a "bad" choice because neither will give Bella her happily ever after. the choice between Edward & Jacob is simply a matter of which horror story you prefer to read.
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lilacheavenn · 2 days
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a week of outfits - deer!reader x p.h.
a/n: full credit to @princessbrunette for the creation of deer!reader <3
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sunday: starting off the week strong with her sunday reset ! after taking a long shower , she heads on her bike , grabs her basket , and bikes to the farmer's market . she grabs an iced coffee on her way , and gets plenty of fresh fruit . she visits mr. heyward on her ride back home , offering hima fresh pear she picked up .
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monday: monday comes around , and deer spends most of her day at the library . although she isn't working today , she still pushes around the cart , organizing book that were just turned in . deer tells pope about each book she read and every person she shushed .
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tuesday: cozy tuesday ! deer spends her day in a comfy sweater and pants with her slippers . with her headphones plugged in and a true crime podcast going , she crochets a new beanie for pope . pope always wears whatever she crochets , knowing its a new hobby . she also make a cute pair of leg warmers !
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wednesday: uh oh ! sweet little doe gets pulled on a little adventure with her popey . not wanting to leave her while the police are still on the hunt for him and his friends , pope decides its best to bring deer on their trip . deer stays frighteningly still in the face of haunted churches , eerie woods , or potential threats . rather than screaming and flailing , her fear stills her , allowing her to remember all the times she's read of these scenes in her books . poor deer sits in the back of the twinkie on their way home , analyzing everything that happened intensely while pope rubs her shoulders .
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thursday: its showtime at the local elementary school ! deer goes to volunteer , making sure the show runs smoothly . she opts for her glassses , and wraps her cardgian over herself in disappointment when the young 3rd graders act up . however , once her hair is pulled back and the show starts , she smiles to herself . pope comes too , bringing along jj and john b , and he waves to her , seeing her peer from the edge of the curtains .
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friday: friday rolls along , and its time for deer to have dinner with pope's family ! she brings along a bottle of wine and a box of baked goods she prepared in the afternoon . mr. and mrs. heyward shower her with compliments , engaging in conversation about the musicals she's been watching ( pirating ) lately . after dinner , she reveals a cute little set to pope , and he spends the night with her in his room <3 .
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saturday: to end a hectic week , the pogues decide to throw a huge party on the beach . deer stresses about what to wear , but pope helps her , no matter how long it takes . she spends a good chunk of time standing beside a tree , observing each person with wide eyes and their mannerisms until jj pulls her into the fun . she glares her eyes at him when he gets too rowdy , and opts to turn and find pope . pope always keep an eye on her , knowing she can get lost of he doesn't . overall, the night ends well , and deer gets a good amount of fun from all the observing <3 .
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crush-like-that · 2 days
Note
Do you have any solangelo hcs :)
yes I do!!! they're literally all I think about
nico blushes so so bad. All the time. when he's embarrassed, when he's mad, when he's caught off guard, when will talks to him, etc etc. Will absolutely loves it.
Nico doesn't understand physical affection ("what are the guidelines," he complains to hazel, "what are the rules, what am I supposed to do") but Will lives off of casual physical touch (an arm draped across someone's shoulders, leaning against each other, sitting super close even though there's a million other seats.) Nico eventually becomes okay with touch, but only with Will. Will does it so casually that it seems like there are no rules for him. Nico may not understand it, but it's easier to just let it happen and not worry about it.
Nico IMs Hazel alot because people are so so hard to understand. He's never had friends before. He's never had a best friend. He's never had a crush on a friend. He simply doesn't know how to act. Hazel laughs at him (with him?)
One day Will was in the infirmary alone, taking stock of items and cleaning up. He had turned on the radio and was singing along quietly. He ended up getting really into it and the closest holdable object became a microphone. Unknown to Will, Nico had been standing by the doorway, watching. He had planned on saying hi, but he... got distracted. Nico smiles, a lil laugh bubbling out of his chest. Will screams and literally collapses. He lays on the floor for a solid two minutes, holding his chest, before asking Nico what the hell he was doing. Nico apologizes, but he really can't bring himself to feel too sorry.
Will stares so bad. He stares at Nico while he trains, while he talks- while he's doing literally anything. Does not matter, Will Solace is somewhere near by and he is staring. Everyone notices, it's so obvious. Nico pretends he doesn't know. He's afraid that if he says something about it, Will will stop.
Will has a collection of pretty rocks, leaves, flowers, etc. all gifted to him by Nico. Nico sees Will in everything, every pretty thing of the earth.
Nico snorts when he laugh and he gets so embarrassed over it. Will thinks it may be his favorite sound in the world
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slvttyplum · 1 hour
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pls pls pls write a gojo angsty smut based off the song wasted times by the weeknd, ILL GIVE YOU A KISS 😘
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the nights got longer, dinner got colder, by the time satoru would come back home you would already be in deep sleep. you didn't want to believe whatever bad thoughts your mind was telling you, but everything pointed to satoru being someone else's, a part of you didn't want to believe it, but your heart ached.
your heart ached for him every night, sliding your arm on his side of the bed where the sheets lied cold, it hurt, but you couldn't bring yourself to say anything about it, that was until you smelled a scent that never came through your nostrils, a sweet hint of vanilla, and before you could smell it again, his clothes were already in the washer.
“what was that?” crossing your arms and leaning against the door frame, watching him walk out the laundry room, his eyes tracing over you before smiling, taking a few steps closer to you before leaving an open distance. weird, all of this was weird, and you couldn't bare to be in this uncomfortable state he left you in every day.
“what was what, baby?” his eyes trailing over you again before mirroring your body language and crossing his arms, stepping closer again before leaving another open space. it was like he was scared to come closer to you because he wasn't expecting for you to be awake.
“who are they? who have you been fucking?” the words crawling out of your mouth with no hesitation and satoru's opening his with nothing coming out, just a few stammers before he tried to find his standing.
“no one. where is this coming from?” his eyes glossy as he stares directly into yours, before your eyes divert from his. you couldn't care to look at him until your heart believed that you were the only one living in his. all the signs were clear as day, but there was still a part of you that wanted you to believe that satoru wasn't that kind of man.
“where have you been? and what is that smell? why won't you touch me?” you start to choke up but hold yourself back when you realize he doesn't need to see you cry, there was no reason to, there were no answers given yet, you had to wait it out.
“they've been working me-” satoru didn't have time to finish his sentence before you cut him off, fuck this.
“whose they?” your eyes running back up to his eyes and he wasn't shaking, his body was still and even though you weren't looking at you before, his eyes were still on you, even if you didn't want to look at him. his eyes were always going to stay on you no matter what, you were always in the back of his mind, when he was sleep, taking a shower, eating, working, everything he was thinking about included you.
that's why when he came back from work he would walk to your side of the bed and crotch down and look at your beautiful face, not wanting to leave you but having to. his hand on your hip as he rubbed his thumb around a tiny spot on you, giving you a peck on the lips before taking a shower.
“work baby, work. what? am i getting cheating accusations now?” a little laugh coming out as he walks closer to you, holding out his hand and grabbing yours, putting his other hand on your cheek, leaning in and giving you a peck on the lips.
this shouldn't have made you feel at ease, but it did, you should've gotten more answers before letting him kiss you, let alone touch you, but his touch and scent made you melt under, why did you believe him? and why did you need him?
your hand slipping out of his grip and your arms going around his neck as he continues to kiss you, his kisses slipping lower to your neck and licking over your sweet spot, his hands sliding in your shorts and gripping your ass. the bulge in his pants pushing against your core, his sweet taste slipping into your mouth, making your eyes flushes.
his touch felt so good, especially the way he was gripping you, you were almost about to fall over from how good you felt, but satoru wasn't done. sliding his hands out of your shorts and pulling them down to your legs, letting them slip down while he slid your panties to the side, even one second would be too long so he just did your panties to the side while he pulled down his pants and briefs with the others.
his dick popping out, eager to be inside you, wrapping his hand around his length and lining himself up with you, sliding his length on your wet core, a small whimper coming out. still kissing him as your moans fall into his mouth, your back pushed against the wall and satoru slowly pushing himself inside of you.
“fuck… i missed you.” pushing himself deeper inside of you, satoru running his hands down your sides and on the back of your thighs, picking you up. his dick pushing into your wet spot making you throw your head back, satoru taking the opportunity to kiss your neck, that sweet taste he missed dispersing into his mouth, his cheeks flushed red.
your legs wrapped around him and his hands gripping your ass, your flesh all i his hands, each time he thrusts into you, he grips you harder, your moans coming out nonstop, he could touch your sweet spot with ease so you were in constant pleasure. holding your head back up and looking him in the eyes, they weren't the vibrant blue you would usually look at, but instead dark, almost unsettling until you realized his eyes were dilated.
satoru still pushing into you as he taps his forehead on yours, kissing you again before looking at you again.
“i'll never stop loving you, okay?” kissing again and looking at you, repeating the pattern, he never wanted to take his eyes off of you, like you were going to disappear from his clutch if he did.
“okay.” your eyes fluttering up at him as he goes in for a deeper kiss, before he pushes into you harder, his tip pressing into you making you yelp with pleasure, it was overstimulating.
“i want you to know that, baby, you're the only one for me.”
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wosoluver · 15 hours
Text
Not good at saying goodbyes.
Part 3/? - previous - next
Lena x childhood bestfriend!reader
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Today you got ready like any other day. Had breakfast, got into the car and drove to work.
What you weren't expecting, walking
in was to see Lena's mother there.
When she saw you, her eyes were full of sparkles.
"Y/N! I can't believe this! You're all grown up!" quickly giving you a tight hug you had missed very much. "You're so beautiful. You look just like your mom. How is she? How are you?"
"I'm good, she's doing well, she's planning on retiring and moving back here."
"It's so good to see you. Can't believe Lena didn't tell me you were here."
"I can."
And she quickly looked for her daughter, who had opted for walking away, minutes prior.
"You meant no harm. I know it, sweetheart. And now that you're here, she'll come to terms eventually.
She still celebrated your birthday every year. And hung up your Christmas stocking, oh and she still hasn't watched that movie you had made plans to see together."
"I kept a full diary of the first two years after I moved, so she could catch up, when we were reunited. And watched as many of her games as I could fit in my schedule. Also, I kept the big bear she won me, at the fair we would aways go to."
"Everything is going to end up in the right place. I'm leaving, but just in case, let me give you my number."
"Thanks, it's so good seeing you again."
"You two honey, you have no idea. Have a good day at training, and if you see my daughter, let her know I went home and that I don't appreciate her walking away."
"Of course."
She was just like you remembered. And for a second it made you feel like you went back in time, when you'd aways pass on her messages to Lena when she tried running away from trouble.
You made your way to the locker room but most girls were already at the gym.
"Obi, your-"
"Lena." - she harshly said.
"Everyone around here calls you Obi, I'm the one who came up with it!"
"Well you lost the right to it, when you betrayed me!"
"I didn't betray you! I was a kid! Who didn't know what she was doing!"
"You hurt me!"
"I was hurting too! And I thought the best way to protect you, was not saying goodbye."
"Now it doesn't matter why you did it! I can't go back in time, and tell the younger version of myself that! I can't tell her that everything was just a misunderstanding. I can't unbreak her heart!"
"If I could go back in time and change everything, I would. I swear. And I'm sorry that's all I can give you."
"Yeah."
What was that even supposed to mean? 'Yeah'?
In truth Lena didn't know either. She didn't know what say. She only knew how she felt and that was, confused.
"As I was going to say in the first place, your mom went home and you are in trouble."
"For what?"
"Leaving while we were talking."
"She can't be serious! You did it first! And I'm the one in the wrong?"
You only gave her a sad look as she walked out of the room. It was like you were eight again, and getting in trouble for doing whatever the other was doing.
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You tried your best giving her some space after that. After all you had nothing else to say to each other. She had bursted out her feelings and you had apologized. And you had been trying to accept the reality. You were far from doing good, but you decided to put her feelings first. Being respectful, to her wish to not be in touch with you.
"Hey Y/N! We're going out tonight, please come with us." - Said Georgia.
"Sorry, I can't. I have some plans I can't bail on."
"No you don't!" - said Giulia. "Stop saying that just so we leave you off the hook, for not showing up at our get togethers."
At this point Stanway had went her own way.
"You can't keep doing this. You're isolating yourself from the team. This has got to be affecting your mental health, the girls are worried."
"No they are not. They think I'm busy because of a relationship."
"Only Syd thinks that. And I know the truth. Please reconsider it?"
"Okay, I'll text you if I change my mind."
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You didn't. Of course you didn't. And that had been the last drop, for her and some of your teammates. After a long talk through the weekend, they had decided on keeping to themselves. To not make things worse.
But Giulia could not hold back when you walked into training, Monday morning, with deeper under-eye bags, and a emotionless look in your face.
You were tired. Tired of crying. Tired of isolating, and only talking to your parents, through a phone. Tired of blaming yourself constantly.
As you left to the field, they all shared a look. Even Lena. You seemed to be doing okay... until stoped pretending you were.
"Don't act surprised! Your the one doing this to her!"
She said looking Obi dead in the eye, and going after you.
"Y/N! Wait up. We can warm up together."
"Is that an excuse for another lecture?"
"No. But you can vent out if you want to."
"There's nothing much to say... Except that leaving Barça was probably a mistake."
"I'm sorry you feel that way."
"Thank you, for trying to include me the best you can, and for taking care of me. You're and the girls are great."
"I wish you gave yourself a chance, to be happy here."
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"Give her a chance!" - said Lea trying to get it through her friends mind. They had stayed back inside.
"She did worse to me!"
"You're taking this to far! She made a mistake and apologized. And I think not having her best friend for the last 15 years, was punishment enough."
"But-"
"No buts. What she did was wrong. But she was a kid and she thought she was doing the right thing.
You're an adult, and you know you are doing the wrong thing! It's not the same."
"What am I supposed to do?"
"Do you think your younger self would approve of this? Of anyone treating her this way? Because the Lena I know, would never treat someone like this. Especially someone she loves."
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"You still care a lot about her huh?"
"I love her and I don't think anything can change that. I promised myself to never leave her again."
"Just don't break your own heart, to keep that promise."
"I don't think a heart can be broken twice. But I'll try my best not to push everyone away."
"That's a good start. You need to feel better for the match this week. Frankfurt is a little harder to beat."
It felt good having someone to talk to again. And you knew you could only blame yourself for the loneliness you had been in. And she was right, you had to give yourself a chance, with or without Lena. Although that isn't how you ever planned your life to go.
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Next part out either today or tomorrow 🩷
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venerawrites · 2 days
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Please some headcanons if itachi's s/o has illness, how will he tread her and etc
(Love you and your works❤️)
author's note: it took me a while to get to this one, because I had quite a few things waiting in my drafts, so I do apologize! Hope you enjoy and thank you so much for your request! <3
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Suffering from his own weak health, seeing his partner unwell would impact Itachi more that he would like to admit.
He would feel weak and helpless as he watches his s/o laying in bed, their breath rigid and their body covered in sweat.
Without a doubt, he would be taking care of all their needs - he would cook for them, clean their house, wash their clothes and even help them shower. From them, he only wanted them to rest and let their immune system battle the disease.
He would strictly observe their day routine and if they are taking your medication as often as prescribed.
How well he shows his concerns, however, will greatly depend on what type of illness his s/o has exactly.
If it is something minor or treatable, he would probably show his worry quite openly.
He would ask his partner every day how are they feeling and would spend hours and hours next to their bed, reading them stories or just caressing their hair, while you sleep.
Itachi is like a mother hen during this time - I imagine he would even stop doing missions for a while, despite knowing it would cause major problems.
If his s/o has a terminal illness, however, the situation may be a bit different.
When Itachi first find out, he was in disbelief. He was finally given a grain of happiness and he was about to lose it too... just like everything else in his life.
When his partner told him, he disappeared for few days. He was still nearby, but he just needed some time to think and clear his head.
Next, he was determined to find a way to save them. He would travel to every single village where there are medics, find the best and even drag them all to his s/o's door, if they refuse to come willingly.
Itachi is not a brute, but he can be when it is about the wellbeing of the ones he loves.
He would probably leave Kisame to watch over his s/o, while he was away, despite their initial fear of his teammate. With how often he was away, however, an unlikely friendship would form between them two.
I feel no matter what they say or how fast their condition worsen, Itachi would not give up searching ways to save their life and would even become angry, when they try to convince him otherwise.
It takes a long conversation with Kisame for him to realise that his lover doesn't have long left and it is best for him to remain by their side during that time.
Before them, he would act like everything is okay - he would try to bring as much normality as he could to his s/o life, but they would still be able to hear him cry himself to sleep at night.
cc artwork: "Wheel of Time" Concept Art
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ladyloveandjustice · 2 days
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You mentioned haruka kissing usagi when she was still dating michiru in the manga, and it got changed in the anime. Can you explain that to me and why it's bad?
I'm not really clear on the question here? To give further details of what happened, At this point Usagi didn't know Haruka's true identity, but had pretty much guessed, and she also didn't know her gender. Haruka really randomly kissed Usagi out of nowhere as Sailor Uranus while warning her to ~stay away~, Usagi had dreams about the kiss and wondered who Haruka really was, seeing Haruka in both her school uniform and the more feminine clothes she sometimes wore in the manga. When she woke up she was flustered and wondered if this counted as cheating...so yeah, dreaming about both aspects of Haruka turned her on. Then Haruka and Usagi meet up the next day, Usagi asks if she's a man or a woman, and Haruka leans in perhaps for another kiss, saying "does gender really matter?" But the Mamoru comes by, Usagi and Mamoru have a heart to heart about how he's been jealous and vice versa and then the plotline is just. dropped. forever. No impact on Haruka and Usagi's relationship going forward, no indication of how this affects Haruka's actual gf.
I'm really glad the 90s anime didn't do this (I'm not sure if they would have been able to, tbh, don't think the kiss would have been allowed'). It was big to see girls kissing in the manga and I think it gave a lot of young queer people so much of a thrill we didn't really unpack what else was going on, myself included. But it falls into a lot of unfortunate trope and make Haruka a despicable character-first in that she basically assaulted Usagi even if the narrative doesn't really treat it that way, checking off a predatory lesbian trope, and then she's remorselessly cheating on her actual girlfriend and we don't get any indication of what that means for their relationship because apparently that's not important. And then there's the aspect of Usagi leaving her lesbian dalliance behind to reaffirm her commitment to the heterosexual relationship, which feels gross. The plotline being introduced and dropped without any consideration for the impact on the characters makes it badly written.
In contrast, the 90s anime gave Haruka the habit of playfully flirting with every cute girl she sees, not just Usagi. It also hinted at Usagi's (and the other girls') attraction to Haruka without her needing to be assaulted, and there's no indication Haruka is interested in Usagi in particular. Haruka loves to hit on girls, and it's a habit Michiru's aware of and tolerates with an eye roll or quip, but both of them know she's never actually serious about her flirtations, and in contrast, as the season goes on, she becomes VERY serious about Michiru. It keeps the ladykiller who makes all the girlies question their sexuality aspect of Haruka without sacrificing her integrity or relationship with Michiru. The anime centers their relationship, and never forgets Michiru exists.
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shorthaltsjester · 9 months
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the mighty nein - critical role
this is a place where i don't feel alone. this is a place where i feel at home.
#also with softer vibes. i offer They#every silly little brainheart found family deserves a to build a home edit#the mighty nein maybe most of all. thats my family#also the lyrics deliciously well suited to m9.#when jester pulls that. stupid tarot card for fjord. home or traveler. and there's a carnival wagon. and veth says Thats Us! . them#i just think about . the tower is their home the xhorhouse is their home the lavish chateau is their home the balleater. the mistake.#the nein heroez. veth and yezas apartment. the dome. fjord and jesters living room floor.#a bar with a silly name on rumblecusp#also like. the song has stone and dust imagery. gardens and trees.#the inherent temporality of life and love and how that holds no bearing on how greatly people can love. im losin it okay.#ive been making this edit for days straight with my computer screaming at me for trying to shove 143 episodes of cr into a 2min20sec video.#crying becuase. theyre a family do you get it. they were nine lonely people and most of them had given up on seeing their own lives#as something that might be good. something that might make the world a better place. and in the end they're heroes.#and it doesn't matter if no one else knows because They know they're heroes. and they wouldn't've believed that was true when they met.#rattling the bars of my enclosure. to be loved is to be changed#posted on twitter and want to get in the habit of posting here too bc.#general reasons but also bc . i have noticed some of the ppl liking/sharing it are also ppl who shit on my ops by vaguing about my posts#which is in general whatever but does leave a funny taste in my mouth.#critical role#the mighty nein#cr2#caleb widogast#caduceus clay#jester lavorre#fjord#veth brenatto#yasha nydoorin#beauregard lionett#mollymauk tealeaf#my posts
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dangerousdan-dan · 5 months
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I’ve been thinking a lot about how Cass’ journey as Batgirl (more specifically after losing her abilities) directly relates to her perspective as a martial artist.
I’m convinced that her choices wouldn’t have been the same if she weren’t a martial artist. The thing is, when you love fighting, and when you’re good at it, you become addicted to a lot of things. To winning, to discipline, to having absolute control over your body, to enduring pain for the sake of greatness. And as someone who, same as Cass, lost all of that without consent because of someone else, I totally understand why when given the choice to be “mediocre for a lifetime or perfect for a year,” she chose the latter.
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That’s what training is, after all. Your legs shake and burn to get that stance just right, your knuckles bleed because you can’t afford to let the skin get soft, you practice that kick a hundred times because you can always make it faster, harder, smoother. In the back of your mind, you know that you’re dooming yourself to the aches of the future, but you keep going because the idea of not achieving perfection is worse.
When Batman tells her “it doesn’t matter how long it takes, what matters is that you give it everything you’ve got”, the most painful part is that she had already given everything. Cass gave her childhood, her happiness, her sweat and blood. When Cass lost her abilities, it was the equivalent of dismissing all the sacrifices that got her where she was, like saying none of it was worth it. She was the best because she had earned it. So, even if she tried to achieve that same greatness again, the I could’ve been more would’ve haunted her forever. She would’ve mourned that potential for the rest of her life.
Lady Shiva herself is a martial artist, and she was perfectly aware of what had been taken away from Cass and what offering it back would mean. Refusing her offer was never an option. The proof?
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Just look how happy she is immediately after getting her abilities back. She doesn’t even care that she’s going to die.
She’s great again, she has agency over her body again.
Her sacrifices matter.
Batgirl (2000) #9
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fromiftowhen · 1 year
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Bradley's a real sunset bitch and Jake's a real sunrise ho, and nope, I won't elaborate any further.
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madhushala · 6 months
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everyone prioritizes their family and that means even extended chacha ke chacha fufa ke tau etc and i can't even prioritize my sagi one i hate myself
#and its not that they're bad or anything#but im such a people pleaser i feel validation from strangers is more important than family#its because maybe ive watched them too closely and nothing about them fascinates me anymore i know the pattern#and my fun is meeting new people cracking the code#but still#i hate that people will cut your calls leave your message unread kyunki aaj poora din bua mausi aaye the#wish i was that focused on my relatives#ill literally text call anyone even in a middle of a fucking apocalypse#idk yall should tell me if im doing something wrong do yall keep your phones away and forget to text your friends#but i can't focus one thing for too long i cannot physically see messages decking up and not reply#i hate this#do people simply not check. there phone as often or am i an addict#or have i still not learnt to be in the moment#and tomorrow night i leave for home and my friends have planned a meet up#now frn 1 comes to home for one month in her holidays so giving one day or even two days to friends doesn't matter#frn 2 lives in hometown so there's no problem but mind you if she comes she has to leave in 2 minutes because her mom calls every five#minutes just to get her back to home for nothing#frn 3 comes home same as me aka 4-5 days so giving 1 day to friends is parents saying tumhe hamse matlab nahi hai tyohaar mei bhi har baar#milne jaana hota hai#etc#but im home past 4 days ivd literally done nothing papa bhai se utni hi baat hui jitni phone par ho jaati hai#haan for mummy i spent time with her#but most of the time i was on tumblr or scrolling insta to kya hi matlab hua mere ghar aane ka#that means unhe bas meri physical presence chahiye#na ghar par bua aayi na mama na koi#lekin ab kal mujhe jaana hai to kal mama aa jaayenge#why are things this way
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