#it's not a mistake if I make it YOUR problem

[barcaatthemoon]

priorities || barcelona x teen!reader ||

you being late brings up a lot more problems.

"shit," you swore to yourself. you couldn't be late again, alexia had really been on your ass. there were talks of benching you until you could show the team that you wanted to be there. it wasn't your fault that your parents left you to fend for yourself. their reasoning was that if you wanted to act like an adult, then they'd treat you like one. it didn't matter that you weren't old enough to drive yourself anywhere like to practice.

you were a sweating mess by the time that you had gotten to the stadium. the last four blocks from the bus stop to work had been sprinted. you hated having to make that trek normally, but it was even worse whenever the weather was as hot as it was. all you could do was get ready and hope that jona didn't want to talk to you privately.

"nena, where have you been?" all of the team was staring at you as you made your way onto the field. you searched for alexia's eyes and immediately wished that you hadn't. she was looking at you with a look of pure disappointment, like you had completely disregarded her last lecture to you.

"(y/n), come with me," alexia told you. her tone was stern, nearly as much as her expression. you were practically shaking in your boots as you followed her away from everybody else. if she would have just pulled you to the sidelines, it wouldn't have been so bad, but alexia walked you fully away from the field over to the tunnels.

"alexia, before you start, i'm sorry," you apologized. alexia didn't even acknowledge what you said, which you knew meant that she was angry with you. you shrunk back before she even started yelling at you, glancing over towards where the other players were barely visible on the field.

"that does not mean anything to me when you continue to arrive at practice late. how many times do we have to talk about this? before when you played it was for fun, but this is your job. you aren't just here to practice and play in games, there are more responsibilities that come with being a member of the senior team. i am done with babying you, so until you can prove that you're willing to do what is needed like arriving on time, you are on your own." alexia didn't once raise her voice. she walked away from you and back to the field. you stood there with your lip trembling as tears began to fall down your cheeks.

you just barely managed to compose yourself before you joined the team on the field. jona made you run laps while they did their scrimmage games. during lunch, you sat by yourself. alexia was usually your lunch partner, but you assumed that she wanted nothing to do with you.

"hola, nena," irene greeted you. none of the girls liked seeing you sit and eat alone, but irene was the only one alexia wouldn't get onto for sitting with you during your punishment. if anything, alexia trusted her to lecture you as well.

"hola irene," you mumbled. you didn't look up from your plate of food, which you had been pushing around for the past 20 minutes. there were only ten or so minutes left before you had to move on to watch film and go to the gym, but you couldn't bring yourself to take a single bite.

"you should eat. you ran a lot in practice and we're going to the gym later. it would make me and some of the other girls feel a lot better if you would try to take a few bites," irene said. you glanced up at her, which was a mistake. almost immediately, tears returned to your eyes. you practically sprinted out of there to avoid letting them see you cry.

none of the girls came after you. alexia did a good job of keeping everybody away from you while you all watched film. you had your little notepad to take notes, mostly on your opponents since you already didn't get much playing time. a few of the younger girls kept staring at you, and several times you found yourself meeting vicky or jana's gaze.

the gym wasn't much better. you kept your head down and only used machines so that you didn't need a spotter. you kept to areas where nobody else was, and any time that you thought someone was approaching you, you'd leave. once you finished your required reps in the gym, you went out to the field, knowing that you had to run laps after everything.

there wasn't anybody watching you on the field when you first got out there, but slowly, more and more of the girls filed out to the seats to watch you. you didn't pay any attention to any of them. you wanted them to leave so that you could get home, but they didn't budge. and so, you kept running and running. at least an hour had to have passed, possibly more before your body started to forcibly slow down.

"nena!" mapi called out as she watched you drop down to your knees. you had been mid-run, and while it didn't look like a blowout, mapi was paranoid. she took off in a sprint towards you, as did most of the backline that you had been playing with. "are you okay? where does it hurt?"

"mapi, back up, give her some space," alexia said. at that, mapi shot up and lunged at her captain. it took everybody except for lucy getting between them to keep them away from each other. alexia was pulled away from you completely while lucy dropped down to check on you.

"hey kiddo, just breathe for me, okay? can you breathe with me?" lucy asked. she motioned for you to inhale and exhale with her slowly. everybody had been so caught up with the thought of you being injured that they hadn't really checked on you until lucy. she got you sitting up, which was when you clung to her in a hug.

"i was so scared. i just stopped breathing," you told her. there was no holding back your tears. you sobbed openly into lucy's shirt. the medics were waved off, but they left a bottle of water and some options for a snack with the girls on the pitch. "i don't know what happened."

"you overexerted yourself. it's been a busy day for you, and patri mentioned that you looked a little tired when you got here. did you sleep okay last night?" lucy asked you.

"i slept fine," you promised her. lucy ran through a little checklist of questions before marta interrupted her.

"how did you get here nena?" marta asked. at that, you glanced down at your hands and mumbled out the truth. you hoped that none of them would hear you and drop it, but that wasn't the case.

"speak up." this time, it was irene's stern voice that forced it out of you. there was a gentleness to it that alexia's lacked, which was why you repeated yourself for them in the first place.

"i took the bus, then walked," you answered. you weren't proud of admitting it, knowing how dumb that was. irene and marta's faces dropped at your words. they knew how far your home was from the first bus station, and then the other four blocks was not exactly light travel.

"if you ever need a ride anywhere, you tell one of us, got it?" marta leaned in and cradled your face in her hands. "i don't care if it is for something stupid, you call someone."

"yes ma'am," you said quietly. there was still a bit of wheezing when you breathed, but you had pretty much stopped crying. "i'm not in trouble am i?"

"not for this nena, not for this," irene said. she left you to go talk to jona and alexia. patri and pina offered to take you back with them, promising that the three of you could have a fun sleepover with vicky and jana if you were up to it. you were in the locker room changing when alexia came up to you again.

"(y/n), there are some things that i would like to say to you," alexia said. she seemed nervous, which threw you for a loop. you were so used to alexia being confident and sure of herself.

"go ahead," you muttered quietly.

"i am sorry for being so harsh on you earlier. that isn't fair to you, and i will work to be better in the future. irene informed me of how you've been getting to practice, and i figured that your house is not too far from my apartment complex. if you are okay with it, i would like to pick you up for practice. we may need to come in a bit early some days, but i have full confidence that one day you will have captain duties." alexia cracked a small smile at you, one that helped relax you a little. "you don't have to, but it would mean a lot to me if you accepted my apology."

"i do," you said quietly. a part of you was just doing it because she was your captain and you didn't want alexia to be mad at you. still, you appreciated that alexia sought you out to apologize for being so strict with you earlier.

"nena, are you ready?" pina asked as she poked her head into the locker room. her eyes fell to alexia, and pina stepped fully into the locker room ready to square up with her captain. "is she bothering you, nena?"

"it's fine, pina. ale was just apologizing. let's go, i want to take a nap before vicky's parents drop her off," you said. pina helped you carry your bag out to patri's car. both women kept a close eye on you, seeing you as their responsibility to look after. you were like their child, not that any of you would say it to one another.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #teen reader #platonic fic #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni imagine #barcelona x reader #barcelona imagine

[luuuuucyscorner]

𝐒𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮- 𝐀𝐫𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐧

Info: Tashi takes it too far with art and her protege

Tags: Angst I think? , Kissing, Tashi being a bitch, sort of reader x Tashi

Word count: 1,530

A/n: I'm rusty sorry if this is trash

Art and Tashi are greedy, and they know it. How else had their marriage come about, after all? If not greed, for one another—for different parts, different pieces, different people. And then, you had come along.

You'd practically dropped into their laps. Since Art had retired, Tashi had been itching for someone to sink her claws in, to sharpen raw talent into excellence. You—a pretty young thing, short-skirted and starry-eyed as you wielded your racket like a weapon in the Juniors Australian Open, to France to Wimbledon and all the way to a Grand Slam.

Tashi wanted you. Had to have you—and what Tashi wanted, Art wanted.

You melted like putty in their hands. Art's Career Grand slam was still fresh, and even if it weren't—you've known their names for as long as you've been able to hit a ball with a racket.

Its been a year since then, and under their tutelage; the world has become your oyster—the tennis world, anyways (which is the only world that matters). It's why, currently, you're sandwiched in-between Art and Tashi on the couch of a five-star hotel; TV replaying your game footage as Tashi gives commentary—harsh, but in-fucking-valuable.

Tashi's midway through an extensive analysis of your backhand, when her leg shifts and you're suddenly hyper-aware of the way her thigh presses into yours. Her words bleed away in the rush of warmth to your cheeks.

Art also seems more pre-occupied with kneading his hand in slow, tender circles down your back. It feels nice. Familiar. It doesn't help the way your thoughts are drifting, as if the two people crammed beside you are not literally married, and why would it matter that they're still leaning into your sides even though there's so much space on either side of the couch—

"Hey." Tashi's hand squeezes your knee, nails digging into your skin. "You want to be good or not?" She's sharp, scalding—but a smirk plays at her lips. Your cheeks burn. Art exhales, a low, breathy chuckle. Wife, husband and protégé.

"of course i do" you tell her nervously

'So easy', Art can't help but muse to himself, and his own eyes are drawn to the faintest pink flush of your cheeks. Tashi's face remains neutral. Her eyes fix on the screen. No expression, no expression. The only tells are in the slight, nearly imperceptible stiffening of her shoulders.

“So.” Tashi cocks her head, her dark brown eyes flicking to yours for a moment. “You’re not hitting as hard as you could be from your left side.”

"You know I've had an injury recently" you mutter.

“It’s been months.” There’s a tinge of impatience in Tashi’s voice now. “Do you want to keep making excuses, or do you actually want to fix the problem. Your game today was sloppy—your forehand needs work, L/n.”

your mouth presses into a thin line and you look away from her reservedly.

“C’mon, love.” Art tries to offer some semblance of assurance. His thumb strokes across the line of your shoulder blades, a touch that’s soothing and tender—but also possessive. Greedy.

Tashi’s nails dig just a little harder into your knee. “We’re only trying to help you out,” she adds. There’s a beat of silence. Then— “Do you think we like watching you lose, L/n?”

"I won today Tashi. I was good"

She scoffs sharply. “You were good? Don’t make me laugh. You know, I’ve seen your junior games. I’ve seen your first few grand slams since you started going big. This year? You’ve been—,” Tashi gives a short, dry laugh, shaking her head.

“You can’t even finish a game with less than five unforced errors. Your game today was so full of mistakes… it’s a wonder you even won the second set.”

She's still touching you. both of them are still touching you. tears begin to well in your eyes "I understand".

Tashi sees those unfallen tears, that first hint of fragility, and her expression hardens. “No, no, you don’t understand. You need to be hard—you need to be better. You’ve let too much get to you, L/n, and it shows in your game.”

"fine" you raise from the couch, their hands falling off of you, and walk to the door of the hotel, sitting in the hall outside.

They watch you walk out, and when Art makes to follow you, Tashi’s hand snaps out, latching onto his wrist. “Wait.”

Art raises a brow. The look in her dark eyes is hard and implacable as iron, with a hint of something dangerous flickering within. Tashi leans in, murmuring quietly so they can’t be overheard.

“It’s getting to her. You know it is. She’s too sensitive for her own good—not mentally tough enough.”

Then Tashi raises her eyes to Art's "she's like you"

At this, Art stills. The breath in his lungs hitches, his pulse stuttering in a flicker of panic. A million different insecurities and fears flash through his mind.

He manages a laugh—low, nervous—but Tashi’s expression remains implacable. It doesn’t even waver.

“She’s—she’s not like me,” he insists. "I made it to a Career Grand-slam"

Tashi scoffs again. “Yeah, on your second try. And Y/n’s on the fast track to the same. She’s good Art—great, even. But you know she’s not tough. You know she’s soft—she’s gonna break if we’re not careful.”

"if you're not careful" he says carelessly.

That makes Tashi give him a look, and it’s suddenly sharp, a little dangerous. The grip on his wrists tightens. “Art. Listen. You need to get tougher. Not just with her—you’ve gotten too soft, too. And that’s how you lose—that’s how you lose everything."

There’s something almost pleading under her words. Like she’s saying something more.

"cant you just let me be retired?" he begs, voice almost a whisper.

“No!” The word is sharp as a whip, and Art’s eyes widen in surprise as it rings out. Tashi stands, the line of her body stiff. Anger flickers in her gaze. “You don’t get to do that, Art. You’ve been retired less than a year, and you’re already slacking. Letting yourself go soft—slacking off on training, and working, and…”

She huffs out a sharp breath and turns away, clenching her fists. “I hate it when you do that.”

She turns away dismissively and Art walks over to the door and sits down next to you on the hallway carpet.

You're a pitiful sight. Curled up in the hallway of a five-star hotel, face buried against your knees, shoulders shaking in nearly silent sobs—and as Art settles beside you, the shuddering of your shoulders grows stronger, and your tears run more freely.

Wordlessly, he draws you into his embrace, wrapping you up in his broad, warm arms and pulling you against his chest.

Art lets you cry. Lets his hold tighten a little as you lean into him.

"I-I'm try-ing" you sob.

“I know. I know…shh…” Words soothe you gently, hands rubbing against your back and soothing the shivers in your spine in slow, tender circles.

Art's face is pressed into the top of your head, breath hot against your hair as you're half-curled into his lap. He's so careful around you, always, so gentle—because you're too easy to crack, too fragile, too inexperienced to know any better.

"We have to go back in" he mumbles into your hair, "We can't let anyone see you like this"

He doesn’t have to say the reasoning—it’s obvious.

If the press got a sniff of this? Of a junior player crying in the hallway? You’d be mocked to hell and back again.

Tashi would never let you live it down.

“Hey…shh, come on… it’s alright.” Art’s voice is soft and soothing. His breath is warm against your hair, every bit of him warm and gentle and caring.

He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, a gesture you could almost mistake for affectionate—if he weren’t married, and you weren’t his protégé.

You begin to calm down and allow Art to pull you gently onto your feet.

Once you’re standing, Art’s hands are careful, guiding you back into the room and onto the couch.

Tashi glances at you for a brief moment; there’s no trace of pity in her gaze or emotion. It’s cold, analytical—but you notice the way she takes in the way you’re tucked under the protective shadow of Art’s broad figure. There’s something like jealousy in her eyes for a moment.

"Tashi, I'm sorry." you mumble tiredly "If it's alright with you, I'd like to go to sleep now, I promise to get back on track"

Tashi’s eyes are still fixed on you for a moment before she gives a soft exhale, nodding. “Go.”

Art offers no opposition, and a moment after she’s finished speaking, he guides you out. His palm rests on the small of your back, a hand far too large to be that delicate but still moving with a gentleness that’s almost reverent.

He sends an appreciative nod to his wife as he leads your tired body into the bedroom and helps you position yourself under the sheets. He runs his fingers soothingly through your hair until you begin to drift off, sighing heavily.

#challengers 2024 #challengers movie #challengers #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson #patrick zweig #mike faist #josh o'connor #tashi duncan #patrick zweig x reader #zendaya #tashi donaldson #tashi x art #tashi duncan x reader #angst

[moviecritc]

like the movies ⋆ max verstappen

bonus track of my bewitched department

pairing: max verstappen x actress!reader

summary: even though you've been all your life acting, you never experienced a love like the movies, until max appeared in your life

word count: 1.7K

warnings: none, just pure fluff

a/n: I'm going through a max verstappen phase, so if you have any requests for a blurb or something cute, send them <3

english is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

"Are you breaking up with me over the phone? While I'm on my way to your parents' house? Are you stupid or what?" With each sentence, Y/N's voice grew louder.

"Y/N, I'm really sorry. But…"

"But my ass! Don’t you have any common sense?"

She could hear her boyfriend sigh, and she sighed four times louder than him.

"You are too… cold-hearted for me," he finally said from the other end of the line.

Y/N stifled an exclamation. Cold-hearted? How could she be if she was an actress? She was the warmest person he had known.

"You're always focused on your job and yourself, I need someone…"

"Idiot!" Y/N interrupted him. "Just say you don’t have enough self-love to date an independent woman. You worthless piece of shit."

She hung up after her sentence, not wanting to hear her ex-boyfriend's response. She parked the car and ran her hands over her face. She looked at herself in the little mirror of her car, touching up her lipstick and reassuring herself that she was a good person worthy of love.

She got out of her car and went directly to the bookstore in front of her. She still had quite a few books in her apartment to read, but she didn’t mind. It was her third breakup in four months, and she was starting to wonder if she really was the problem, and the only thing that could distract her from that was spending money she didn't have.

She began to pile books on her arms, and by the fifth manuscript, she started to wobble.

"Do you need help?"

Y/N blinked and peeked her head out from the stack of books, meeting a blonde with a very un-London-like accent and skinny jeans who looked like anything but someone who worked in a bookstore. She didn't know that strangers were now offering help out there.

"No, thanks," She took a step and added a sixth book, enough for all of them to fall. "Shit!"

Y/N felt so embarrassed she even blushed. She knew everyone in the bookstore would be watching her, and that terrified her.

"May I help you now?"

Y/N looked up, having completely forgotten about the presence of the stranger, who was looking at her with a kind smile.

"If you insist…" She smiled a little while rolling her eyes, which made him smile too.

They picked up the books together, which were a bunch of rom-coms. For a moment she thought he would judge her choices, but he didn’t make any gesture.

"I'm Max, by the way"

Y/N blinked. She had no idea what was happening, it seemed totally unreal that a stranger would help her pick up her books and suddenly introduce himself.

"Do you like Sally Rooney?" he asked, holding the last book she'd picked.

Y/N realized that this guy wanted to keep a trivial conversation with her, like those you have in nightclub bathrooms with girls. But this time was a bookstore, not a library. And not a girl, but a Max.

"I’ve never read her, but I saw Normal People, the series, and I was left wanting more," she explained, with a shy smile. "Y/N, by the way."

"Nice to meet you," he showed her a gorgeous smile. "I read the book, I haven’t had time to watch the series yet."

"Oh, it's really good,"

The conversation flowed too easily. She wasn’t used to talking so normally with someone she had just met a few minutes ago and moreover without it being awkward, but that was how it was. Y/N told him about the books she planned to buy and the one she was reading now.

"Excuse me, we're going to close," an employee informed them. In London, shops always closed in the mid-afternoon, for lunch, and although Y/N had arrived around eleven-thirty, the clock was almost striking one. "Are you taking the books?"

"Sure, yes," said Y/N at once and turned to Max. "Hold on a sec."

Max waved his hand, telling her not to worry, that he would wait. She paid for the books and quickly returned to Max.

"Do you have plans for this afternoon?" Max asked directly. Y/N loved the confidence in his voice.

"No, I don’t,"

"Can I invite you to lunch?"

"I'd love that,"

Y/N went to leave the bag of books in her car and she and Max walked to a nearby restaurant, continuing their conversation. It still seemed extremely surreal to her, in what universe does she break up with her boyfriend and moments later meet the nicest guy she had ever known?

"What do you do?" Max asked, once they were seated in the restaurant.

"I'm an actress," she pursed her lips. She was still in the phase where it was hard for her to admit she worked in that field.

"I'm not much into movies," Max commented, scrunching his nose.

"Great because I do theater,"

"Really?" he leaned back in his chair, impressed. "I don’t frequent the theater either, to be honest."

They both laughed softly and Y/N sipped her drink. "And you?"

"I work with cars,"

Y/N furrowed her brow, waiting for him to specify a bit more. "In a repair shop or how?"

That caused a small laugh from Max, leaving Y/N even more confused.

"Yes, exactly. In a repair shop," he continued with a wide smile.

"Well, if you like cars, there's some Prix thing here this weekend. There are tourists everywhere, it's terrible," she complained, rolling her eyes a bit.

Max gave her a goofy smile. That was perfect. Simply perfect.

"Really?" he arched his eyebrows slightly. "I had no idea."

"They do it every year. A silly thing," Y/N shrugged, letting the topic pass.

They continued talking for a long time about how Y/N once almost knocked down the shelves in a bookstore.

"Just like in the movies!" Max said, laughing.

She nodded, also laughing. "I swear things like a character in a tragicomedy happen to me."

They continued laughing for a while, then Max squinted a bit, resting his head on the palms of his hands. "And don’t you think it’s very movie-like that someone picks up your books for you?"

Y/N looked around, with sudden terror. "Where are the cameras, Max?"

He threw his head back laughing with a soft scrunch in his nose. The sound of his laugh felt really warm for Y/N.

"I hope nowhere," Max was right. Too good to be true. Too good to happen to her. Her look darkened a bit, and Max noticed it quickly. "Something wrong?"

She looked up and shook her head a little. "It's just… Is this weird?"

"I don’t think so, unless you want to make it weird. I’m pretty good at that,"

Max got a small smile from her.

"It's just that I’m used to…” Y/N thought about that sentence. “To things like this not happening to me. I haven’t been doing too well in love this past year,"

"Oh, me neither," Max didn’t mention the part about being a famous person and everyone wanting to be with him out of pure interest and not because they really liked him. "It's complicated."

"Quite," she pursed her lips. "Anyway… I have a performance at a theater in Soho on Thursday, you could come by. If you want, of course."

Max bit his lip; he had his first free practice that day and likely several meetings and driver duties.

"Oh, I'd love to. What time?"

They exchanged phones after the meal, which dragged on quite a bit, so that Y/N could send Max the location of the theater. And to exchange several messages throughout the day. They didn't see each other again until the day of the performance, but in that time, they had written dozens of messages. Y/N would tell Max about the series or movie she had watched that afternoon and recommended that he watch it, even though it was more than likely that Max hadn't turned on a TV in months.

Thursday arrived, and Max managed to sneak away from a meeting, arriving just in time for the play.

Y/N was nervous, and her co-star wasn't helping.

"Y/N!" Her co-star approached practically running. "I just heard that a famous driver is watching the play."

"Really?" She didn't care too much. She had been without news from Max for hours.

Luckily, he appeared at the door with a kind smile and a bouquet of roses. "Hi,"

Y/N flashed a smile and went up to him, instinctively wanting to hug him. Max, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, left a short kiss on her lips. She instantly blushed.

"Hello," Y/N greeted, with a silly smile. "Gorgeous flowers."

Max looked at her co-star, who was completely astonished.

"Lily, are you okay?" questioned Y/N, still hugging Max.

"Why didn't you tell me you were dating a famous driver?"

Y/N turned to Max instantly.

"What do you mean, 'famous driver'?"

Max pursed his lips slightly. "Aren't you going to call her out on the 'dating' thing?"

Y/N paused for a moment, trying not to laugh at what Max had said.

"Y/N, this is Max Verstappen. The Formula 1 driver!"

She lifted her chin and looked at Max again. "Formula 1 driver?"

Max scratched his neck.

"I think so…"

Y/N paused again for a moment. "And you let me mock your career just like that?"

"It's because you're strangely nice, what can I do," Max shrugged, causing Y/N to laugh.

"Well, I'm not one to deny it," she smiled a bit, then kissed Max's lips a second time. She placed a finger on his chest. "Though we're not dating, huh. We need to have a second date before we throw it all in for each other,"

Max burst out laughing. "Like they do in the movies?"

"Absolutely."

taglist; @theseerbetweenus

#max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x yn #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv1 imagine #mv1 fic #mv1 x you #mv1 x y/n #noraverse 🫧 #f1 #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 one shot #f1 fluff #f1 fic #mv33 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fic #formula 1 x you #my bewitched department

[sickslimez]

STILL IN LOVE! #5 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

It’s been an entire month since your argument with Toji. Neither of you had said a word to each other, not even when he comes to pick up or drop off the kids. He keeps his distance, not bothering to wait by the door with them, instead he waits on the sidewalk and waved goodbye to them when you open the door. It seems like the kids haven’t took notice of the hostility between you and your ex husband and you wanted to keep it that way. You didn’t want them to witness anymore than they already have. Occasionally, Naya asks if she can go over Toji’s more often, growing an attachment to her father, but you always have to explain to her that he’s busy working during the week. It breaks your heart knowing that your children aren’t growing up with a fully family. You know deep down, they question why they have to go back and forth between houses just to see their father, or wondering why their mommy and daddy aren’t together like the other kids. But knowing how young they are, they wouldn’t understand a single thing. Hopefully when they’re older, they’ll learn from the mistakes you and Toji have made.

You and Nanami have been going strong recently, finding that he makes you forget about the hardships in your life. He hasn’t met the kids yet, which you don’t plan on letting happen anytime soon. He’s a nice guy, great intentions, but you want to take things slow before overstepping your own boundaries. He has took you out on two more dates ever since the first one, and each time he impresses you more and more. It feels like you can be open with him, comfortable without getting judged. He’s also a great listener, not saying a word and just letting you vent all of your feelings out until you feel better. He puts a smile on your face when he knows you’re feeling down or thinking about something that stresses you out. And most of all, he doesn’t mention what happened that morning when Toji showed up at your house. You know he heard most of everything and it was embarrassing to say the least. Toji embarrassed you.

“Mommy, can I go see daddy?” You daughter tapped your leg as you were cutting up her and megumi some fruit to snack on.

You looked down at her with a soft smile. “Tomorrow, baby. You’re gonna see him tomorrow.” You popped a raspberry in her mouth, her favorite fruit.

“Dad’s been drinking a lot.” Megumi walked into the kitchen, stealing a piece of pineapple off of the cutting board.

“What do you mean?” You immediately question, placing the knife down.

“Beer. He gets uncle Gojo to buy it for him and drinks a whole bunch,” he explained. Your lips pursed together, inhaling deeply before you let out a frustrated sigh. You shook your head in disappointment, trying not to show the anger flowing through you right now.

“So can we go see him? I’m worried!” You daughter batted her eyelashes at you, a small frown on her face. No wonder she’s been asking to see Toji so much, it all makes sense now.

“How about you guys call him to say goodnight, mommy isn’t driving right now. Plus, it’s late.” You picked up the knife, cutting more pineapple into smaller chunks.

“Please! Please! Please, mommy!” You daughter grabbed onto the hem of your shirt, nearly ripping it off of you with the way she was begging.

“Naya, cut it out! Mom said no!” Megumi slightly raised his voice, an annoyed look on his face.

“I wasn’t asking you, dummy!” Her brows furrowed in anger, her gaze now on her brothers.

“Shut up, idiot!” Megumi shouted back.

“Aye! Cut the shit!” You warned, sharing looks between both of them. Naya huffed, stomping her little feet over to the living room. “I don’t need you guys calling each other names, alright? Naya, I said no, and that means no. And Megs, stop being mean.”

“She called me it first!” He exclaimed.

“I don’t care who did it first! I don’t need y’all fighting. Naya, come here!” You shouted from the kitchen. “Eh, stay here.” You pointed at Megumi when he tried to walk away. He let out an annoyed sigh leaning against the counter. “Naya!” She turned the corner with a frown on her face, eyes watery as she looked up at you. “Baby, what’s wrong?” As soon as you asked her that question she burst into tears. Before you could even place the knife down, Megumi picked her up and held her in his arms while she cried.

“Ny-ny, what’s wrong? I’m sorry I called you an idiot, okay? I was mad, but I shouldn’t have said that,” he said softly, rubbing her back as she cried on his shoulder. The little girl hiccuped softly, wrapping her arms around her brothers neck tightly. “Do you wanna tell mommy what’s wrong?” He asked, looking at her. He brought his hand up to her face, wiping the tears.

“Da…daddy!” She sobbed, trying to catch her breath. “I wanna see…daddy!” Tears streamed down her chubby cheeks as she laid her head back on her brothers shoulder. Megumi turned to look at you, and you could see that he was also worried about his father, even if he wasn’t as vocal as it. “Mommy!” She cried.

You reached your hands out, picking her up from Megumi and holding her to your chest. “You really wanna see daddy?” You asked, wiping off her tears with your shirt. She nodded, still whimpering and sniffling. She rubbed her puffy eyes, little fists holding onto the fabric of your shirt. “Okay, we’ll go see daddy then. Megs, put your shoes on.”

You held Naya’s hand as you walked up the steps with them. She had a little smile on her face, excited to all hell to see her father. Megumi rang the doorbell, waiting patiently with you in the cold. “You excited, huh?” You chuckled, looking down at your daughter.

“Who is it?” Toji’s deep voice spoke from the other side of the door.

“Dad, it’s us!” Megumi answered. You were a little nervous to see him, knowing that this was going to be an unexpected surprise, but you had a very valid reason for showing up here. Toji unlocked the door, confusion written all over his face when he seen you and his two kids standing outside in the cold. He barely had time to register the situation before Naya ran over to him and hugged him.

“Daddy!” She yelled followed by a giggle.

“Hey, peanut!” He picked her up like she weighed nothing, sitting her on his hip and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “What’re doing here so early, huh?” He asked with a smile.

“She’s been asking about you all day…all week actually,” you spoke. “She started crying cause she missed you so much, so I brought her over here,” you explained.

Naya fiddled with her dads lip scar, as Toji stood there and stared at you for a few minutes. It’s like he almost forgot how you sounded, it’s been so long. “Well, uh, would you like to come in or are you just dropping them off?” He asked, clearing his throat.

“Yeah, I’ll come in.” The only reason you accepted was because you wanted to speak to him about his drinking problem that Megumi suddenly brought up.

“Hi, buddy.” Toji ruffled Megumi’s hair, giving him a kiss on top of his head. He closed the door behind you, your eyes immediately taking notice of the four beer cans that sat on his coffee table. A rush of disappointment came washing over you as you continued to stare at them. “Don’t mind the mess,” he awkwardly chuckled, quickly trying to clean up as he sat Naya down on the couch.

You stuffed your hands in your coat pocket, standing in the middle of the living room as he grabbed the cans and quickly took them into the kitchen. “I told you,” Megumi whispered. Toji walked back into the living room, looking at you.

“So, uh, she was crying you said?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “she…she was like full on sobbing for you. Scared me shitless at first if I’m being honest.”

“Ny-ny, you can’t be scaring mommy like that.” Toji walked over, pinching her cheeks until she giggled. You watched the scene in front of you, seeing the smile on your daughter’s face when she was with Toji made your heart swell. “If you want, I can take them early, and come pick up their stuff tomorrow. You look…tired.”

You shrugged. “Just a little. It’s been a long week.” Toji nodded in agreement, standing back up right as all you stood there in silence while the two kids watched whatever was on the tv. “Toji, can I speak with you?”

“Yeah, yeah, what’s up?” He asked.

“In private.” You stared at him.

“Um, yeah. Megs, Ny, stay here, okay? Watch whatever you wanna watch.” He smiled at them.

“Megs, can we watch The Incredibles again?” Naya clung to her brothers arm as he grabbed the remote.

You followed Toji down the hallway to his bedroom. “How have you been?” You asked, shutting the door behind you.

“Me? I’ve been fine. How are you?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. Your eyes were locked onto him as you stood there by the door. Toji had a confused expression on his face. “Something wrong?”

“How have you been, Toji?” This time you asked with more sternly, clenching your jaw.

“I don’t get…I don’t get it.” He looked around the room as if he was being pranked, awkwardly rubbing his hands on his thighs.

“Megs told me about your drinking problem. You got Gojo going out and buying beer for you all the time? Getting drunk when the kids are here?! I can smell it on your breath!” You yelled in a whisper, folding your arms across your chest.

“I only drink enough to get tipsy, okay? I wouldn’t get drunk around the kids, y/n,” he sighed, holding his head in his hands.

You scoff, “like that makes it any better. Naya keeps asking about you because she’s worried, crying her eyes out because of it, because she misses you. Megumi doesn’t say a word about how he feels, but I can tell he’s scared, Toji. You had four beers on the fucking coffee table when I walked in!” You exclaimed, eyebrows raised.

“I know,” he sighed. “I’m sorry. I just…I’m dealing with shit, y/n.” He rested his elbows on his knees, looking down at the floor.

“We are all dealing with shit, Toji, but you gotta be there for our kids! I’m not here to argue with you, okay? I just want to know what is going on. The kids want to know what’s going on.” You looked at him with concern as he avoided your gaze completely, head still hung low.

“I can’t say it.” Toji looked up, finally locking eyes with you.

“Why?” You asked.

“Because it won’t matter, y/n. I’ve made mistakes, and I’m dealing with them. That’s all there is to it.” He bit the inside of his cheek, closing his eyes.

Your expression softened. There was no need for Toji to explain what he was talking about because you already knew. He was talking about you guys, your relationship, your marriage, your family. “It wasn’t just you, Toji,” you spoke softly. “It was me too. We grew apart. It happens.”

He shook his head. “You were only acting that way because of how I was treating you. It’s not your fault so don’t say it was, please. I’m the one who fucked it up. Back then I fucked it up, and now I’m fucking it up. Every time I got something good going on I find a way to ruin it.”

“Toji…” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

He stood up from his spot on the bed and walked towards you, his muscular and tall frame trapping you against the door. “I’m sorry. I miss you, I miss what we had, mama. You gotta understand me.” He cupped your face in his hands.

“No, no, don’t do that.” You shook your head, removing his hands from you.

“Do what, mama?” He asked softly.

“That, Toji.” You kept shaking your head at him. “I can’t. We can’t.”

“Why not? Hm?” He tried to catch your eye.

“I’m with someone else,” you bluntly said. Your heart was beating loudly in your chest, almost deafening in your ears as you stood there against the door. There was nothing but silence from Toji. He took a step back from you.

“Is it him?” Toji asked. All you did was nod. He scoffed. “So y’all are really together?”

“Yeah, we are,” you answered. “He treats me good, makes me happy.”

“So you don’t love me anymore?” Toji questioned.

“I didn’t say that!” You looked at him in disbelief.

“That’s not what you said the last time we spoke to each other. What you said fucking hurt me. You hate me. You wish you never married me. Remember that?” Toji cocked his head to the side.

“I was upset, Toji.” You rolled your eyes.

“You just don’t say shit like that, y/n. Never once in our entire relationship together have I said some shit like that to you.” He stood there, waiting for you to say something, but you didn’t.

“Well, I don’t know what you want me to say! I came here because Naya was worried about you and Megumi told me about your drinking problem. That’s all I came to talk about! I didn’t come to talk about what we had going on, okay? So just fucking drop it. I’m happier, I’m better. I’m getting treated the way I deserve to be treated for the first time in my life." You snapped.

“For the first time in your life? Are you hearing how you sound right now? I know I wasnt perfect, but I did everything I could to make you happy. Yes, there were some things I could’ve done better, but I loved you like you were supposed to be loved. Why else would I marry you?” Toji walked towards you again.

“Then you should’ve showed that love. Just know I’ll be better without you.” You opened the bedroom door, walking down the hallway.

“Y/n!” Toji shouted. He followed after you as you ignored him. “Y/n!” He shouted again.

“Stop following me, Toji! I’m leaving!” You screamed.

Megumi and Naya looked over at both of you, seeing you two yelling. “I’m not done talking to you!” Toji grabbed your wrist, pulling you back.

“Well, I am!” You snatched your arm back from him.

“Stop it!” Megumi yelled, covering his little sisters ears.

You and Toji looked over at the kids sitting on the couch, Naya’s eyes watery, lip wobbly as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Megumi shared looks between both of you, concern and fear written on his face. “Come on, let’s go back home. You’ll see daddy tomorrow.”

“I wanna stay!” Naya pouted.

“Naya, please, get in the car.” You sighed in frustration, grabbing her hand.

“No! No!” She started screaming, dropping to the floor and kicking around, throwing a tantrum.

“Get up, Naya! I’m not gonna ask you again!” You lifted her off of the floor, grabbing her hand again. She pulled away from you, running over to Toji, hugging his legs.

“Fine. Fine. Stay with your father. I’ll see both of you in a few days. I love you.” You grabbed your keys from your coat pocket, walking to the front door, slamming it shut behind you.

“Come here, baby girl.” Toji picked his daughter up.

“You two always fight! I hate it!” Megumi stormed out of the living room and into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him, making Naya jump. Toji stood there in the living room with his daughter, a lump forming in his throat. He let out a choked sob, immediately hiding his face from his daughter.

“Daddy, don’t cry.” She wiped his tears away.

“I’m sorry, baby girl.” He sniffled. Your family was falling apart right in front of Toji’s eyes. Megumi is looking for a way out of this family at such a young age, indulging in video games and tv to drown out the real problems. Naya conflicted with her feelings, crying constantly because of the state both of you were in, affecting her. Nothing is like it was before. Toji hated this was happening. This is was last thing he ever wanted.

You sat in your car outside of his house, wiping your tears from how overwhelmed you were. You were at a loss on how to fix this. Each time you tried, it ended the same. You were fearful it was going to keep getting worse, worse until there was no way to reverse the damage done.

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[padfootagain]

Only an Almost (XV)

Chapter 15: Aftermath

Hi! Here comes a new chapter!

We’re still dealing with a lot of angst! Sorry (not sorry)!

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 2387

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

You had called a dozen times, and Andrew had refused to answer.

After a night spent at his parents’, he felt better, although he was still devastated. He reckoned he would need a long time to get over this. Over you…

His brother stopped by the next day, just to check on him, but Andrew put on a brave face and played it off. Jon was everything but fooled. He stayed for dinner and well into the night. Sam was the one dispatched the next day to keep an eye on Andrew, who was beginning to be seriously annoyed at this game of babysitting.

Sam had been trying to get a conversation going for the last twenty minutes, but Andrew wasn’t in the mood to socialize and make an effort to fight his introverted tendencies.

Besides, there was a question on the tip of his tongue he was afraid to ask. He didn’t want to be angry at his best friend…

“Have you heard about the next rugby match? They say we’re up for a proper challenge against the French!”

“Hmmm…”

Sam finally heaved an annoyed sigh, but his voice was still gentle when he spoke.

“Come on, Andy! Say something! You haven’t spoken more than three words since I’ve arrived.”

“I’ve never asked you to come in the first place.”

“I’m just trying to be supportive. And a good friend. So… talk to me. Cry on my shoulder, I don’t know…”

A heavy silence followed, while Sam stared at his friend, sitting on his comfortable couch, the crackling of a fire in the hearth and the distant chanting of birds the only sounds to disturb the silence. Andrew was staring at the pine trees on the other side of the window, how their branches swayed in the wind.

“Did you know?”

Andrew’s question came out of the blue, making Sam frown. He was still staring at nothing as his deep voice cut the air like a knife. Calm, cold, deadly so…

“When you called me the other night to tell me to speak with Y/N… did you know that she wanted to dump me to date someone else?” he went on.

Sam didn’t answer, it was only then that Andrew turned his gaze to him again.

“You knew,” he let out in a bitter chuckle.

“I didn’t,” Sam defended himself. “I didn’t, I just… She told Daphne that someone had asked her out, but we didn’t know if she had accepted to go or not. I just… we just wanted you to have a chance to tell her how you felt before she would take a decision.”

“A little late for that.”

“Oh, come on! Don’t put the blame on me, that’s unfair! You’ve known Y/N for years, you’ve been head over heels for her for so fucking long, and you’ve been sleeping with her for months! You had plenty of time to tell her…”

“And I shouldn’t have!” Andrew answered with anger shaking his voice, turning it into a booming sound that echoed through the living room. “I shouldn’t have kissed her that night, and I shouldn’t have slept with her, and I should have kept my bloody mouth shut!”

“Of course not, you were right to finally act on your feelings!”

“Was I? Look where it got me!”

He heaved a frustrated sigh, almost a groan. Damn, he wanted to tear his own lungs apart…

“Talking to her was never the problem, Sam. She doesn’t love me. My feelings aren’t reciprocated. That’s the problem.”

“She’s making a mistake…”

“Didn’t you hear me? She doesn’t feel anything for me. She doesn’t want to be with me. She only wanted a fling, I was around, and she got one. End of story.”

Sam shook his head, but didn’t know what to add.

“I’m sorry, Andy. It makes no fucking sense to me. I was certain she felt the same… it was obvious.”

“She doesn’t want to be with me. She doesn’t want to wait around while I’m gone touring. I’m not good enough…”

“Now, stop it! You’re just wallowing in self-pity and indulging in some self-deprecating bullshit! You are good enough.”

“If I were, she wouldn’t be dating someone else,” Andrew spat back, and Sam wasn’t sure how he could counter that remark.

“You should have told me the truth,” Andrew went on after a short silence. “You should have told me there was someone else.”

“We didn’t even know she had accepted that date!”

“You should have told me. I went there hoping we could be together… that we could change it all to a proper relationship. And the next second, I’m out of the goddamn picture. It’s like… like my whole world crumbled down. You… you should have told me.”

Andrew blinked tears away, averting his eyes to hide his reaction. But his voice sounded more like a croak than a composed tone. Sam nodded.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you. I just… I’m sorry. Do you want to tell me how it went?”

“I went there. I wanted to talk, but instead we had sex. And the pillow talk that I thought was going to turn into an invitation for a proper date ended up in me running away so she wouldn’t see me cry.”

“Damn, Andy… that’s brutal.”

“Yeah…”

“I don’t understand why she acted like this. It doesn’t sound like her, it’s…”

“Cruel. Disgusting. Unfair.”

“Yeah… kind of…”

“I don’t know. I don’t understand anything. I haven’t understood a thing since we’ve started this.”

“Maybe she’s scared…”

“Stop. Stop trying to see something where there’s nothing at all. She wanted sex, and I was around. And I was foolish enough to think she cared. That’s all.”

Sam heaved a sigh, but nodded anyway.

“Have you talked to her since that night?”

“No.”

“Has she reached out?”

“Many times. I’m hesitating to block her number.”

“You should talk things out, though.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You ran away, you said it yourself. Perhaps… perhaps if you talked, you could understand why she did this to you. Not why she doesn’t feel the same, but… why she acted like that. Why she hurt you like that.”

Andrew weighed his friend’s words. They sounded wise, but promised a lot of pain too.

“I’m not sure I want to know.”

Sam nodded again.

“Can I do anything to make you feel less terrible?”

“Not really, no. I just… I just need to process everything that happened.”

Sam rested a comforting hand on Andrew’s shoulder, but he didn’t react.

“You’re a good man, Andy. I know… I know it’s hard. But… don’t let this make you feel bad about yourself, okay? It’s not your fault. And you’re a good man.”

Andrew’s gaze followed the branches swaying back and forth with the wind.

Not good enough for her to love me…

Two weeks passed, and it was time to buy the suits for the wedding. Andrew was doing his best to smile and look the part of the perfect best man, but he was nothing but numb with pain.

You shouldn’t be there, Sam had promised that; even though the same shop was taking care of the dresses and the suits, they had different areas, to make sure that the future bride and groom would not be able to see each other. Anyway, Daphne’s appointment had begun almost two hours ago, Andrew expected that she and her bridesmaids – including you – were long gone by now.

It was a fancy place, all wooden walls and shelves of silk and wool. The style of an old, traditional tailor. The carpet was a deep shade of green and blue, leathered seats around a large room with a set of mirrors and a long wooden table at the centre. It could have been a set for some old spy movie.

If all his friends knew that something was off with him, Andrew was grateful that they didn’t insist when he answered that he didn’t want to talk about it. Sam was the only one who knew about you and him, and Andrew was set on keeping it this way.

Sam was nervous as he tried on different suits. Andrew couldn’t hide that he was entertained by it, while a tailor was taking his measurements as well. They had all agreed on some colours and models, and Andrew had answered with a polite smile to the usual joke about his height.

It was an emotional moment when Sam stood in front of a mirror, wearing the suit he would wear for his wedding. A few adjustments were necessary, there were tiny colourful pins here and there, but it was the suit. Andrew patted his shoulder with a fond smile on his lips.

“Congratulations, Sam,” he said softly, voice warm and sincere. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks, mate,” his friend answered with tears in his eyes. “God… it’s really happening. I’m really going to marry the love of my life. What a lucky bastard I am, huh?”

They both laughed. Their three other friends who were there were chatting behind them, comparing a set of belts.

“A handsome fellow too,” Andrew complimented.

“Right? Not ugly enough to make Daphne run away?”

“Nah… you look sharp. Besides, she’s smitten with you… for some weird reason.”

“She must be out of her mind.”

“Without a doubt.”

Sam brushed a tear away.

“God, I’m so fucking happy…”

Andrew gave him a warm smile, an honest one, the first earnest smile he had given to anyone since that night.

“I don’t know about that thing, though…” Sam added, pointing at the blue pocket square.

He had chosen a deep shade of burgundy for his suit, while his groomsmen would be wearing brown. Andrew and Sam were to share the same shade for the pocket square though, as Andrew was his best man.

“Green could be nice,” Sam mumbled, trying to picture another colour.

“You want me to go ask for another sample?”

“Could you? That would be grand. Thanks, Andy. We should compare it to your suit too.”

Andrew merely nodded, walking out of the room in search for the tailor. He walked down a corridor, reached the hall and easily spotted the man he was looking for. He was talking with someone…

… and as he walked closer, Andrew recognised you.

Your gazes met before he could turn around and leave, and all he could do was stare with an agape mouth and a shocked expression. You froze as well, and your sudden silence made the tailor turn in Andrew’s direction.

“Can I do something for you, sir?” he asked, and Andrew forced himself to swallow so he could summon back his voice.

“Yeah… erm… sorry to bother you, we wanted to see other colours for the pocket squares, if it’s possible…”

“Of course, sir. I’ll fetch them right now.”

He added a few words to you, but Andrew had stopped listening. What the hell were you doing here? Daphne’s appointment was three hours ago…

You were so fucking beautiful… in a simple pair of blue jeans, an emerald shirt, and the sun coming in through the large shop windows. His heart was going a thousand miles a minute and he hated himself for wanting to kiss you. You had broken his heart, his soul, him… in a million pieces and his first reaction was still an urge to kiss you, and hold you, and never let go…

The tailor was gone without Andrew noticing. You took a couple of steps towards him, and he tried to walk away, but he didn’t have the strength for it.

God, he missed you so fucking much…

“Hi,” you breathed, looking quite stunned to see him there.

“Hi.”

 “How is Sam doing in there?”

“Good. Daphne?”

“Grand.”

“I thought you would be gone by now.”

He saw you clenching your jaw, noticed how this must have sounded… but he didn’t apologise for it.

“Yeah… well… Daphne and her mother are taking forever,” you joked. “And you can’t just ask a future bride to hurry, so…”

“Yeah…”

He cleared his throat, tried to look away. If he looked away, perhaps he could remember what you had done to him, and then he could go back to wanting to never see you again…

“Look, I… I know that now is obviously not the right time but… do you think that we could talk? Like… properly. You… you kind of stormed out last time, and I’m not blaming you for it,” you added in a hurry, as if to hold him back. “I… I understand. But we should talk about this. Could we do that?’

“I really don’t know what we could discuss,” Andrew shrugged, his voice growing harsher even if it was still low. “You’ve met someone else, there’s nothing to add.”

“You haven’t answered a single phone call since that night.”

He let out a long exhale through his nose, clenched his jaw. Still, his voice was soft when he answered.

“I… I don’t think we should see each other for a while, Y/N.”

“But I…”

“Please, just…”

“We should talk about this! Before taking any decision, we should talk about this! Andy… please…”

There were tears in your eyes and he was so angry by the sight. He was the one with a broken heart in this, with the unrequited feelings and the shattered self-esteem. Not you. Why the fuck were you crying when he was the one who felt betrayed and used?

“Look… Just one time. Let us talk about this, just once. And then, you can never see me again if you want.”

Andrew averted his eyes, buried his hands in the pockets of his trousers. But he nodded still.

“Alright.”

“Are you free tomorrow night?”

He nodded again.

“Alright, then… come to my place tomorrow, okay? We can talk this through.”

He nodded, unable to look up at you again, he knew he would start crying if he did.

And then the tailor was back, talking about the colours of pocket squares, and Andrew followed him in silence back to Sam, and the happiness of a friend Andrew was determined not to taint with his own sorrow. He was smiling when he looked at the green fabrics the tailor had to offer.

#andrew hozier byrne #hozier #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier x fem!reader #hozier fanfiction #hozier series #fanfiction #fanfic #hozier fanfic #hozier imagine #series #writing

[princessamericachavez]

Say Don’t Go | 911 7x10 spec

Based on the stills and my brain not shutting up

“I hate you!”

Christopher’s voice resonates through the hallway until his door slamming cuts it off. Eddie flinches and Buck’s heart breaks.

“Chris-“

Eddie moves half a step forward and Buck stops him by the shoulder before he can go after his son. It’s not going to help. If he knows anything about angry teenagers (having been one particularly angry himself) is that Chris needs a moment away from his dad.

The problem are those big brown eyes. Because when Eddie looks back at him, so lost and heartbroken and desperate, Buck knows he has to do something. Because this is wrong, it’s just wrong, and Buck knows he cannot fix everything for the people he loves but he cannot —will not— stop trying no matter how impossible it feels.

“Let- let me try and talk to him,” Buck asks.

“What?”

Helena and Ramon both turn to him with equal disbelief, but Buck doesn’t even bother looking at them. They’ve been so ready to take this opportunity to rip Chris away from Eddie. And, sure, they are worried and Eddie should’ve handled this a lot better, but they aren’t even giving him the chance. So he doesn’t look at them, he keeps his eyes on Eddie who gives him the smallest, pleading, nod.

That’s all Buck needs. With one final squeeze, he lets go of Eddie and moves across the living room with long strides before the Diaz’s can stop him.

Who does he think he is? What gives him the right to intervene? How dare he even be here? Whatever they are thinking, comes second to Chris and Eddie.

Buck knocks gently on the door.

“Go away!”

“H-hey, buddy, it’s me. Can I come in?”

There’s a long terrifying pause that nearly shatters what’s left of Buck’s heart before the reluctant “okay.”

With a relieved sigh, he pushes in.

Christopher is sitting on the edge of his bed, a packed backpack by his side. For a second, Buck thinks of another day, years ago, when he found him just like this. Back then, Buck’s biggest fear was that Eddie’s heart would stop. Today, he’s terrified it will break beyond repair.

“Hey, Chris.”

“Hey, Buck,” he says, looking down at his hands.

Awkwardly, Buck makes his way to the bed and sits on the edge next to the boy. He’s so big now, older and taller, but he can still see the same child that had to comfort him after the shooting.

“Chris, are you sure about this? Leaving your dad, even if it’s just for a while… that’s not going to fix things between you.”

“I don’t want to fix them,” Chris snaps, sharply. “He lied to me! He lied to Marisol, to you, he lied to everyone!”

And that’s not something Buck can argue.

“Yeah, he- he screwed up, Chris, but you need to understand.”

“I understand! Why would he that! He’s- he always told me to tell the truth and to be good but he was a liar.”

“Hey, hey, that’s- that’s not fair. One mistake doesn’t make him a liar. He just- listen, Chris, you know your dad loves you more than anything in the whole world, right?”

He’s met with silence.

“Right?”

Chris gives a noncommittal shrug.

“Right,” Buck nods. “Because he does. And he would never, ever, do anything to hurt you.”

“But he did! It hurt! Seeing her and thinking it was her… it hurt, Buck.”

“I know, buddy… I do. I just- I meant, he would never hurt you on purpose.”

“He had to know it would hurt.”

“He did. Which is why he lied…”

Christopher huffs and Buck has the horrible feeling he’s not being as helpful as he hoped. What was he thinking? Just because he loves Chris with his whole heart it doesn’t mean he knows the first thing about being a parent. He only knows what Eddie taught him.

The memory hits home like a wave. Sunlight, a warm hand on his shoulder, his heart twisting from guilt to relief and to something bigger he couldn’t name.

“You know, your dad isn’t perfect.”

“No, he isn’t,” Chris scoffs.

“He isn’t perfect,” Buck repeats, tone pleading Chris to let him finish, “and he knows it. He told me once himself, that he’s failed many times as your dad. But he also said that he loves you enough to never give up, to never stop trying to be better… for you.”

Chris is quiet, but by the way his shoulders hunch and his head tilts, Buck thinks he might be getting to him. So he pushes on.

“And- and the thing is, Christopher, your dad is very hurt right now. It’s- it’s nothing like the time he was shot… it’s something… deeper, older. Because, you see, when Shannon- when your mom died, it really hurt your dad. He loved her so much… and I don’t think he ever healed from it, not really. I think that’s why he did all this. Because he’s in pain…”

Christopher peers at Buck from under his curly fringe, reluctantly making eye contact.

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

“No, it doesn’t. But- but I think your dad really needs us right now. He- he needs you,” he corrects quickly. “This time, I think your dad needs you not to give up on him.”

“But I’m still mad.”

“And- and that’s okay. You can be mad. You get to be angry or sad or confused, I just- I just hope you can fight for your dad, like he does for you. Because, Chris, if he loses you… I think the pain will be too much this time.”

Chris is quiet. And Buck is exhausted.

“I don’t wanna make you feel responsible for him, Christopher. I promise, whatever you choose, I’ll have his back and make sure he is okay. I just- I think he needs both of us right now.”

“Why are you defending him? Aren’t you mad too? He lied to you too.”

“I- yeah, he did. But he’s my best friend, and I love him. I’m not quitting on him, he’s never given up on me.”

“Hmmm.”

It takes a couple minutes before Chris decides to get back up. Buck stays only because he isn’t asked to leave and, only when he sees the boy step outside does he dare follow cautiously.

In the living room, whatever Eddie was talking in hushed tones with his parents dies down immediately. He only has eyes for his son as he approaches.

“Mijo-“

“You have to promise that it won’t happen again,” Christopher demands, voice shaky. “You need to try to do better and you have to promise that you won’t lie to me again.”

Eddie walks towards his son like he is in a dream, eyes tearful. Buck can see him trembling even from afar, where he’s found a corner to tuck himself into and disappear.

“Christopher,” Eddie says, kneeling before his son and gently holding him, “I swear- te lo juro por mi vida. I will do better. I will- I will be better for both of us. I will spend every day trying to be a better father for you.”

“Okay,” Chris says.

“Okay?”

“I’m staying.”

Eddie leans forward to hug his son, but is met with a gentle push back.

“I’m still mad at you, dad.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Of course,” Eddie mumbles, but the relief in his voice is still palpable.

Eddie looks past Chris’s shoulder and his eyes find Buck. The look in his face… Buck knows Eddie like the back of his hand but he cannot quite place what it is. Thankfulness and relief and hope… but there’s something else behind it that makes Buck’s heart twist painfully.

So Buck looks away, tries to find something —anything— else to focus on and lands on the Diaz’s faces. Eddie’s parents look at him with… well, it isn’t quite anger, but there’s a confusion there and a bewilderment that somehow makes Buck even more uncomfortable. He ducks his head and beelines for the kitchen. He should let them be alone…

“Buck!” Eddie is rushing after him before he can get to the door.

When he turns around, he finds Eddie standing there, shaking and shocked. Buck waits, but Eddie doesn’t seem to have any more idea than he does about what he planned to say next.

“Sorry, I- I should probably go.”

Eddie takes a step forward, with that look still on his face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Buck goes on. “Just- just be with your son tonight.”

“You sure? You could stay.” Eddie steps closer.

“No, it’s- it’s okay. I wouldn’t want to intrude, with your family-“

“Buck-“

“And Tommy is waiting at my place, so…”

Eddie stops. He blinks.

“Right, yeah. Of course. Just- I- Thank you.”

Buck smiles, even if the air between them still feels charged.

“I have your back, Eddie. Always.”

And before anything else can get his head spinning he steps out the back door. Only once outside does he stop and finally breathe. That was… that felt like… but it cannot be. It wasn’t. Even if Eddie looked like he wanted to-

No, of course not. Better get going, before his heart can manage to fool itself once again.

#Buddie #911 spec #911 fic #Buddie fic #911 on ABC #Eddie Diaz #Evan Buckley #911 spoilers

[moonshynecybin]

you’ve talked about Laguna Secq being iconic but what about Valentino’s reaction to the first time Marc pulls one of his moves (Jerez, 3rd race of the season)

okay this was initially supposed to be BIGGER and include ASSEN 2015 and JEREZ 2013 but the beautiful sirens call of laguna seca 2013 is the only one i got to before i ran out of steam… small teeny weeny (1.5k) fic about marc using vale’s moves pun INTENDEDDDDD:

“You keep using my moves.” Vale says, coming up behind Marc on the balcony. His breath hits the back of Marc’s neck as he leans against the railing. Close.

They’re alone, shoulders brushing, outside the party— and Vale sounds happy, which Marc thinks is a good sign. He shrugs.

“I told you— I’ll pay the copyright.” Thumbing some hair behind his ear as Vale settles next to him, he lets a smile stretch over his face. They’re away from the party out here, alone, and Vale’s been— Vale’s been amazing, these last few months, as Marc’s rookie season has taken shape. The best, really. Exactly like Marc thought he’d be.

The lines of Vale’s body are impermeable— trending almost impressionistic in the dark— bright patches peaking through the window and painting streaks of light on his skin. He’s smoking as he talks, cigarette flaring orange in the dim light as he takes a drag, cheeks hollowing, and normally Marc can’t stand the smell of cigarette smoke, but right now it’s just good. Smells sexy. Adult.

“Ah, well that makes it okay, then.” His palm lands on Marc’s shoulder, shaking him around, a nod to the play-choking earlier in parc ferme. Just like then, Marc lets himself be moved, a laugh exploding out of him as Vale manhandles him. His fingers curve, covering Marc’s shoulder entirely, warm and heavy. He loves this, loves the way it feels— Vale putting him where he wants him, bringing him on the inside of a joke only the two of them get to enjoy.

“They’re good moves.” He protests, breathless when Vale lets him go. His narrow shoulder stays close, and Marc doesn’t think he’s stopped smiling once since the checkered flag was waved, cheeks starting to hurt.

Vale’s playing.

“I know they’re good moves, I made them! I never expected I would have to say fuck!” All the emphasis on lands on fuck, accent liquifying the word into a short, sharp sound. Marc thrills, absorbing it. A whole party full of people and Vale came to him. “—they are being used on me!”

Marc laughs again, tilting his head. He raises a bitchy little eyebrow, wry. “You know, you are taking it better than Jorge, I don’t think he liked your moves very much.” Marc copying his move again, from Jerez 2010 this time. After the race there this year, Marc had tried to shake Jorge’s hand three separate times, and had only managed it on the plane ride home, once things had cooled off a little bit. It’s not— Marc doesn’t exactly blame Jorge. He knows how he can get, sometimes, on the track, even if he doesn’t regret any of it. But he’s not unaware of the blinders he can have, when a win is in reach, and the problems other riders can have with it.

But he hopes —thinks— that Vale is different. Because he’s right: it’s Vale’s moves that Marc has been using.

“Allora, he will get over it, he’s just sad he lost.” Vale comes back with, immediately, shoulder still clamoring into Marc’s, clearly pleased with the vein of conversation, with ragging on Jorge just a little bit, and Marc beams. Vale understands, of course he does. It swoops through his stomach, better than a wheelie. Almost as good as an overtake, as a podium. Marc’s found another.

“And he’s never liked my moves, anyway.” Vale adds, dancing his eyebrows, innuendo happy on his tongue.

Marc cackles— Jorge wouldn’t—but still needs to be sure. He asks, clumsily, eagerly:

“You’re not mad, that I repeated your pass on Stoner? It wasn’t on purpose, or anything. I didn’t plan it.” It wasn’t really— he had already overtaken him coming in. Vale had made the mistake in the breaking and Marc had already been half a bike ahead. But it had happened like that anyways, thrilling. Fate. A passing of the baton.

Vale considers, takes a drag of his smoke. Waves a hand around once he starts talking.

“It’s different, yes? My pass in 2008 was one of the best— I want to say of all time?” Marc nods, Vale keeps going. “I mean, for the win. A lot of drama. And you know, coming up on Turn 8 I heard you behind me, but I expected you on the other side— so you were very smart. And it’s my move so I can’t say anything. But today, the Honda was—“ He makes a sound effect, blowing air out of his mouth to imitate the speed of Marc’s bike. “You would’ve passed me two turns later no matter what.”

Marc nods, biting his lip. He’s right— his bike was fast.

“So. You say it wasn’t on purpose?” Vale follows up, a sly bent coloring his expression, like he thinks Marc isn’t being 100% honest, but wouldn’t be mad if he told the truth.

“I mean, maybe a little bit.” He says sheepishly, head down in a shrug. It hits Vale, and Marc watches him blink and smile— charmed, Marc thinks, almost despite himself, shaking his head. He scuffs marc’s arm, and Marc feels like he must be glowing. The new model, he had said, earlier in the press conference. Just with more upgrades.

“But now if I do it to you, you can’t say anything.” Vale hits Marc’s chest with a lazy tap of his knuckles. “What is it they say? Rubbing is racing?” He adds, pulling another drag of his cigarette. There’s some scruff at the edge of his jaw, and his little finger is slightly crooked, won’t bend all the way. It makes Marc feel bold—

If he sees an opening, he’s going to take it.

“Well,” He lets intent carry into his voice, hand edging Vale’s on the railing. “Not just racing.”

Vale’s eyes pin him, a split second of surprise. He points at him with his cigarette, makes a face, it zings through Marc like an over-fast corner. “That’s a bad line.”

Marc plays coy— it’s worked so far. “To be fair, if I learned all my moves from you— I haven’t really seen you do this part yet.”

Vale’s shifts, considering, but Marc thinks he’s right there with him, on the line— high on endorphins and that huge, shivery feeling of finding someone who gets it, that same way only someone like them can get it. Vale’s got to be able to feel it too—

The mood thickens, sticky sweet, making Marc hyper aware of everything in the room, making him try and commit it all to memory— the first time they ever do this. He wants to savor it, preserve it like a picture in a frame, review it in the years to come. The quality of the light, the smell of Vale’s cologne, the grain of the railing. He digs his fingers in a little, rolls up on the balls of his feet. He wants to feel everything that he can, as much as he can.

Vale—like always— is still into the joke, skirting around the heart of the issue, performing for an audience of one. He nods, rubs at his chin, looks like he’s considering him.

Marc bites his lip.

Vale moves slowly, like he’s in no hurry at all. He stubs out his cigarette, stepping into Marc’s space, and Marc has to tilt his head back to meet his eyes. They’re half-lidded, lazy. Confident. His pupils are blown, huge in the dim light, and his gaze drops unerringly to the slash of Marc’s mouth. Marc grins. Got him.

“I think you have a lot to learn.”

A hand lands on his waist.

“Will you teach me?” Marc thinks his voice is higher than he wants it to be.

Another hand, low on his back.

“If you want.”

A nose traces the edge of his cheekbone. Teasing.

“I do.” Marc presses them together. “Want.” His breath hitches as Vale responds, leaning into Marc and bringing his thigh up, smooth and firm, so that it presses against Marc’s cock, a shock of sensation. His hand stays where it is, low and possessive on Marc’s back, hot as a brand under his shirt, five fingers against skin.

“Well fuck, Marc, I can see that.”

Marc laughs, hitching his hips forward, dragging against him. They haven’t even fucking kissed yet. “That one of your moves?”

Vale shrugs, eyes still caught on his mouth. Marc licks his lips. A hand drifts to grab his ass.

“Yes.”

“Don’t teach it to anyone else.” Marc asks. Really this should just— this should just be for the two of them.

“Okay.” Vale laughs, sounds surprised, delighted, turned on. It makes Marc rock up on his toes, makes him smile, makes him dig his fingers into the fabric of Vale’s shirt.

Got him, he thinks when Vale leans in, lips meeting Marc’s in a messy clash. He tastes like liquor and smoke.

Got him.

#motogp #callie speaks #rosquez #asks #prompts #my fic

[cryobabyy]

Realistic predictions/analysis for the dynamic between Syd and Carmy for s3 and what the writers will potentially do with Claire.

Pls keep in note that my sydcarmy brain was OFF and the Film/Television production student brain was ON when I wrote this. I am trying to imagine their potential romance in the most realistic and grounded way possible don't be mad at me please I'm sensitive sjhdsajdsjdhsfafafjskdlfh okay lets get into it

Carmy is back in a high-end kitchen environment, which means toxic ocd perfectionist Carmy is back because he has yet to deconstruct that part of himself

that being said, he wants that star, not only because it'll justify the pain of gutting his dead brother's restaurant and perhaps soothe his self-loathing, but also because Sydney wants it- and Carmy wants to keep Sydney. He wants to see her get what she wants.

Carmy still has the toxic mindset that success is defined by how much you suffered for it, and how much pain you've endured. He is back in an environment where he will forever be chasing perfection that doesn't exist. He has an incessant need for control that makes him difficult to work with.

Carmen holds the staff, especially Sydney, to impossible standards of perfection

IMPORTANT TO NOTE THAT CARMY IS A VERY EXTREME PERSON

HE WILL BE PLAGUED BY BLACK AND WHITE THINKING THIS ENTIRE SEASON (as opposed to the wishy-washy, one-foot-in-one-foot-out vibe we got last season)

Enter the partnership contract lol

To Carmy, the contract is a testament to his commitment to Sydney. He would have a professional and legal obligation to operate at the highest standard. You have my full focus, and I have yours. He's basically trying to correct his mistakes in s2 in the most extreme way.

The problem is that Sydney knows this means she would be legally and professionally bound to Carmen. It means she would have to subscribe to his toxic standards and warped ideas of success to uphold her end of the contract.

Sydney will be forced to reevaluate if the path to success Carmy has laid out will be worth the suffering. We saw last season that the stress literally made her vomit. She is asking herself: does it have to be like this? Is this really the only way?

Sydney will be presented with alternative opportunities because of the attention she's received from being professionally associated with Carmy.

They will become increasingly tempting as The Bear continues to bring out the worst in Carmy

Maybe Carmy catches wind of the attention Sydney has been getting, which he thinks explains why she has been stalling signing the contract.

Carmy feels rejected. Of course, he doesn't realize it's rejection that he's feeling. He confronts her from a professional angle. It devolves into a fight because he'll probably end up lashing out.

"This is what you wanted! I'm giving you what you want!"

It is, in fact, not what Sydney wants. LMFAO

Sydney, of course, wants Carmy. But she wants a version of Carmy that doesn't exist, and she's not sure he ever will.

Sydney's relationship with failure is important for her character. She initially wanted the success Carmen has.

At the end of s3 she realizes she just wants Carmy. As a friend and a creative partner (and in my most unhinged fantasies a lover :P). She wants the Carmy she gets when they're riffing off each other's ideas in his kitchen. She doesn't want the tunnel vision perfection machine version of himself when he's in his chef whites. She grows to resent that version.

s3 wraps up with their relationship on rocky terms

Best case scenario, Carmy tries to change

worst-case scenario, Sydney steps back from the bear

CLAIRE PREDICTIONS

Carmy operates at extremes. He either pursues a personal life or his professional life. In his mind, it is impossible to have both.

Claire and Sydney/The Bear are on opposite ends of the spectrum

If he commits to Claire, he can't commit to the restaurant

If he commits to Sydney/The Bear, he can't commit to Claire

Instead of trying to find balance, Carmy throws himself into Sydney/The Bear

Fak obviously observes that this makes Camry worse, and decides to talk to Claire to suggest some sort of contact between the two. He probably thinks this might keep Carmy from nosediving further. I don't have any guesses for the context of their conversation though. It could be anything. I think it would be hilarious if Fak hurts himself during dinner service and has to go to the ER and the convo unfolds that way lol.

Meanwhile, Carmy thinks he's doing the right thing by presenting his most extreme and professional self to Sydney because he thinks it's what she wants. He wants to give her his full focus.

What Sydney actually wants is fucking BALANCE. Which is exactly what Carmy NEEDS, but doesn't think is possible.

Sydney potentially walks away to find it elsewhere with someone else.

Carmy is angsty about it, obviously.

Carmy and Claire will probably reconcile, before or after his potential falling out with Sydney

If they do get back together, I don't think it's sustainable for Carmy. They both have very demanding careers, and Claire triggers trauma associated with his past. They might like each other, but they are incompatible, IMO.

I do think Sydney and Carmy will end up together eventually tho lol. Eventually, Carmy will realize that Sydney is his balance. The problem is that Carmy currently is incapable of providing Sydney balance. But if he learns that he can be that for her, he might realize that he wants her beyond professional partnership. Fingers crossed lol.

#the bear fx #sydney x carmy #carmy x sydney #Listen #I think it's gonna happen #but we'll have to wait for it #they both need to figure out what they want #my bad if u read the version of this post with all the spelling and syntax errors i forgot to proof read before i published :P

[sgiandubh]

To your previous anon. When this side and mordor side are in 100% agreement about this latest stunt gone stupidly wrong, you know it's gone stupidly wrong! We don't agree on many things but with this we're all in agreement.

Dear 'Previous Anon' Anon,

Well, he screwed it up BIG time. He could have thought things better than reacting knee-jerk style in the spur of the moment. Holding hands was completely unnecessary, as it made him look as a disingenuous consumer of cheap company AND a fool.

His Mommies are, for the most part, Christian conservatives (this is a simple, but reliable descriptor, not a judgement) who came and stayed for the book first, then for that innocence. Of which they ALL wanted a part of. They wanted a part of the dream. But oh, now JAMMF (the confusion and the struggle are real, for the aging Onlies) canoodles with hookers in the streets of London. This is not 1744, there is no Bonnie Prince Charlie, no Murtagh, no Fergus and they are no Claire. I feel for them. And it is not the first time I am telling myself the whole agitation down here eerily mirrors particular book tropes - as if fiction seeped into their lives, somehow. Strange, to say the least.

How is he going to come out of it? I bet he hopes for the effective virtues of collective oblivion and prays for small mercies. But this is Season Eight in the making, already and both he and C are running out of time.

No underpants twisting from the *Ur-Troll will make this palatable to that public and the people still buying that particular brand of bullshit in shining wrap paper WANT to LIE to themselves. For the sake of the above fantasy only.

The Disgruntled Tumblrettes will snarl on. It is their moment of dubious grace, Gay Brigade included. At least Liberace had Sonja Henie, the Norwegian figure-skater Olympic champion. That woman is no Olympic champion (her discipline is not included in that club) and this will seal the deal to them.

What about us? I do wonder. Don't worry: I am not about to jump ship. I have better understanding of human nature than that and I am anything but shocked by what happened. However, I also do think that this man cannot go on like that, from blunder to blunder, from OL to LOL.

I will not post anything else about that woman. Anything about that woman, reblogs included, will give her traction and a raison d'être. My inbox is full with pleading Anons I am deleting. Go somewhere else for gossip, ask yourselves what happened to you in the process and why you are interested by a hooker.

I am still considering Landcon 7. I have not made my final decision and I think it's understandable. There is a fine line between being benevolent and being an idiot with one's own time and money. I will tell you very soon what my final thoughts on this are.

Tell yourself they are people like me and you. Good people make mistakes. This is a horrible mistake I am not finding excuses for. His problem to solve.

#anon #fandom #shitshow

[brazenautomaton]

Could you go into more detail on the "feminism made men's shelters not exist" thing? I have no idea how the causal chain there works. (Also just fyi there ARE men's shelters - at least in my country - but you're not capital-W Wrong, it's legit weird there aren't way more.)

I mean because feminists get extremely, extremely upset when anyone talks about male victims of domestic violence and then start screaming and threatening and harassing everyone in range?

the woman who opened the first women's shelter was Erin Pizzey, and it did not take her long to notice that a lot of the women there were just as violent as the men they escaped, and that it was obvious they needed a men's shelter just as much. feminists flipped their shit about this, protested her, lied about her, tried to get her fired and blacklisted, threatened her, and killed her dog. All of the people who did this were feminists and none of them were not feminists; feminists did not oppose the people who did this and no feminists attempted to help her.

Earl Silverman tried to open a men's shelter in Canada after being domestically abused by his wife and seeing the only resources for men were all predicated on men being the abusers. Feminists lost their shit. They protested him, lied about him, harassed him, went out of their way to strip funding from him, and eventually drove him to suicide. All of the people who did this were feminists and none of them were not feminists. Feminists did not oppose the people who did this and no feminist ever attempted to help him.

Feminists demanded that arrest be mandatory when police showed up to domestic abuse calls. Then all of a sudden, a whole bunch of women got arrested, because domestic abuse is not a gendered problem. Feminists could not accept this. They created a thing called the "Duluth model," which became the standard view of how to deal with domestic abuse, that literally states only men are abusive and any behavior from a woman that appears abusive is due to how a man abused her. The organizations who deal with domestic abuse run off a world-model that literally states men cannot be abused and women cannot be abusers. Feminists pushed for "primary aggressor policies," which meant that when the police showed up on a domestic abuse call, they should consider the "primary aggressor" to be the male, and arrest him. Men who call the police to report being abused are far, far, far more likely to be arrested than the women who abuse them. This is the explicit goal of a policy that was made by feminists, all of whom were feminists and none of whom were not feminists, who used the political and social power of feminism to make it happen, who had free access to that power in order to do so, who enjoyed complete support from feminists, and who did not face any opposition from feminists.

Feminism gets a pass because of the deep-rooted sexism it appeals to. Feminism claims to be synonymous with womanhood, and women are so precious that anything that claims to be aligned with them has to be good. And women have so little agency that this thing can't have possibly DONE anything in the world that is bad, it has to be a mistake, or a lie you told because you hate women so much! You can't remember all the ways that feminism is wrong and hurts people, because they're women, and women don't DO things! You forget it the moment it leaves your vision cone because it doesn't fit the biased narrative. And you just keep going "well, but real feminism is for real equality, and feminism is definitionally good!" no matter how many times you see it isn't. No matter how many times it's proven that yes, feminists do hate men, and yes, feminists are wrong, and yes, feminists are cruel, and yes, feminists care more about hurting men than helping women, and yes, if you mention these things to your "real feminist" friends who are for "real equality" they will expel you and harass you... it just can't stick. The narrative is too powerful. No matter how it's proven, we're going to hear "well I know real feminism is for real equality so we should all still be feminists and give power to feminists and support people who use the mantle of feminism without ever looking into what they believe" over and over and over.

[kagamesayu]

more on...

shidou who hates leaving bimbo!reader's side.

c/w . implied female reader, implied smut, fluff, angst ??, possessive shidou wc: 1 k a/n . ngl this took forever and it's cause it ESCAPED me oh my... it might get messy at some point and i am SO SORRY . also im slowly becoming a shidou x bimbo!reader blog this is crazy, they're just so fun to write ugh reblogs and comments appreciated ✧*.

from my shidou x bimbo!reader pt 2

it's already a problem when you have to leave to go grocery shopping or anything of the like. he tries to find every excuse under the sun to go with you, even if he doesn't have to and you live right beside a convenience store.

"ryu baby i just need to go out and get that tiktok hair mask! you don't have to come-"

"yeah yeah shut yer trap doll i'm comin'. what if my baby needs a big strong guy to help her take her things?" he flexes his muscles, smirking as you gulp.

and you're too sweet and dumb to remember that you only need to get one thing, lowkey wanting shidou to be with you cause you always forget what you wanted to buy.

"mm...but i don't wanna waste your time ryu..."

"what if ya chip a nail-"

"omg you're so right! thank you baby, you're the best!"

he'll insist on going with you and it's all fun and games until he thinks someone's looking at your cute sequence miniskirt or your tight Barbie tanktop too long.

seems like some people can't take the hint - even with his arm snaked around your waist. one thing leads to another and he's in a fight for your honour, grinning madly and thoroughly fucking up the person staring you down.

because of his reactions you tend to sneak out and get the things really quickly - this doesn't usually work out though cause shidou always has tabs on you. he's obsessed after all!

this always ens with you getting a 'punishment' which can range from having to sit on his lap and feed him grapes to letting him have all the fun he wants with you.

if you get what i'm saying ;)

it's even worse when he has to leave you for a whole different country. he regularly goes overseas for matches and you almost always go with him.

but your scatter brained self will forget the dates and there are times you can't go with him because you forgot to take the days off.

and when he finds out he's so, so sad - never mad because he never gets mad at you. loves you too much.

"doll~ oh my cute, dumb baby doll~!" he squishes your face till your lips pucker, making you look at him as he pouts at you. "why'd ya gotta hurt me like this baby~?"

"didn't mean to ryu!" your speech is muffled, fingers wrapping around the wrist of the hand holding you hostage. "forgot..."

he sighs exaggeratedly before pecking your pouted lips, pulling away with a grin. "it's okay baby. it's ok," he sounds like he's saying that for himself. "just spend all yer time with me now, kay?"

as the days creep by, he becomes much more clingy. he becomes more quick to anger on the field, scoring much more and becoming so much more aggressive in his plays.

he never brings that energy home though, he treats his baby doll with so much care, he wouldn't dare make them cry.

he only brings that drive with him into the bedroom 🥵

you've been trying to make up for your mistake by pampering him more. leaving more lipstick kisses on his face and neck and making more beaded bracelets. you'd even made him an altoid wallet with polaroid pics of you two!

not gonna say he cried when he saw this but....

you pack some pink bandaids and hair clips in his luggage, and even let him take your favourite stuffed rabbit.

"please look after mr hannah montana! he can't have gluten and seafood and he hates the colour green so please don't put him in green clothes."

"okay baby-"

"and he also needs his fluff brushed in the morning!"

"yes-"

"and he hates being in a luggage so you have to hold him in your arms!"

"anythin' for you doll~"

and when that fated day arrives he gets so, so obnoxiously clingy. singing 'i love you's and 'i'll miss you's as he hangs off your shoulders, arms snaked around you. it was like he was trying to be a part of you.

he was :) he always wants to be inside you, sexually or not

he holds you like you're his lifeline. kisses you like it's your last.

you're both in the airport, a hand holding his duffle bag, the other holding yours, mr hannah montana in your arm as you try your darn hardest not to cry. your nails are digging into shidou's hands but he doesn't say anything.

he needs to feel you clinging to him. needs to feel you need him. cause he won't be able to have you for a week and he thinks he might die thinking about it.

who's gonna kiss his 'boo boo's when he gets into fights? who's gonna paint his nails and blow dry his hair while talking about what happened at work?

who's he gonna kiss and hug and fuck?

fuck, he's going to die.

"ryu..." your whiny tearful voice breaks him from his thoughts, his grip tightening around your hand. "gonna miss you so much-!"

your mascara falls with your tears, jaw quivering as the time for his flight comes closer and closer.

"oh doll." his coo makes you pause, his hand let's go of yours only to come up to your cheek. "'m gonna call ya everyday and yer gonna send me pictures everyday, right?"

"yeah..."

"and ya got that pile of clothes in case ya get lonely?"

"course!"

"good. i'll be back so fuckin' fast baby you won't even have time to miss me~" his handsome smirk is splayed on his face, "and don't forget," he leans in close and kisses you passionately, tongue sneaking in your mouth as his hand moves to hold your throat.

when you pull away, you're breathless, panting and gasping air greedily, a string of spit connecting your lips. you don't even think about the fact that you're in an airport with his teamates staring at the two of you. you can't think about anything other than shidou ryusei.

"'m yours and yer mine, no matter where i go."

#bllk x reader #bllk imagines #✧. bllk #shidou ryusei #x reader #shidou ryuusei x reader #shidou x reader #x bimbo!reader

[outlanderskin]

Hi, I'm the Anon who asked why you didn't believe Sam would be in a serious relationship with Sarah. I haven't been in the fandom that long and this time I really believed Purv because everything she said made a lot of sense. Now I'm very disappointed to know that she was lying the whole time.

Hello and welcome back. I know it's hard for a newbie to understand everything that's been going on here for ten years, but Tumblr is full of posts with information that proves this person lies all the time. It was easier to ask someone on our side and then draw your own conclusions rather than blindly believe someone who has an incongruous speech and lives in a distorted reality. It's not the first time that such "sources" end up being revealed as voices in her head. She is someone who speculates, like most here. Her problem is that she posts speculations as truth and doesn't accept anyone questioning them. Her role in this fandom is the same as she had in the other: to build wild theories without any basis of truth and fall for the PR bait. The "insider information" she says she receives is also sent to other blogs, but only she believes it. On this side, at least we are smart enough to make it clear to the agents that if they want to spread rumors first hand, pay a gossip site. And we also make it clear that we will not do anyone's dirty work by exposing children, family members or private details of the lives of people who are just people, like you and me, regardless of whether they are famous or not. Well, while answering your Ask, I ended up remembering a lie told by this person a long time ago that gave us a good laugh afterwards. She had "inside sources" that said C knew T since L.A. where they even shared an apartment. In fact, C shared an apartment with Simon. How anyone could mistake Simon for T, I will never understand.

#outlander #shipping #fandom is for fun #thehardlifeofshippers #welcome to the shitshow

[maryrouille]

Tips for good studying

I must admit that I am shocked at how helpful the post about Toxic romanticization of studying was for you, so I decided to expand it with a second part. Here I will talk a little about examples from my own experience with studying.

1. Take small steps

Even tiny, but keep moving forward. I know it's a very clichéd phrase, but it really works. Especially in the case of very complex theories or extensive material. Then it is worth starting by understanding the basics and expanding this knowledge based on the information that we can best learn first. This way of learning looks like creating increasingly wider circles around one dot (which was our basis).

My practical advice: when I learn very difficult things, I start by finding starting points and writing them down on a small piece of paper (e.g. names or dates). Then I try to combine it in any way possible. When I find connotations, I look for more information about them, which I transfer to a larger piece of paper. This creates charts of varying levels of connection and complexity.

2. Clearly divide time for studying, rest and fun

Of course, studying can be fun, but sometimes we need a moment to relax and do nothing. It's good to divide these moments, which will allow us to either focus completely on work or on rest. Combining learning, especially the kind that is a burden for us, with some form of relaxation makes both activities ineffective. And we still get tired of all this.

My mistake: the countless times I've worked on something and wasn't happy with the results that day. And the evening came, and instead of letting go and resting, I tried to combine "relaxation" with further work. It ended up that I didn't do anything productive, nor did I enjoy a glass of wine or a movie that I watched because she stubbornly tried to do something else.

3. Stimulants are always harmful

In this case, stimulants can be understood in many ways. It may be coffee, alcohol, nicotine or even illegal things. Culturally, we don't see anything wrong with another cup of coffee when we need to concentrate. Or another cigarette, or champagne when we need to relieve stress. However, it should be remembered that all these substances affect our perception and brain functioning to a greater or lesser extent. And isn't it great and healthy to know that we can achieve a lot without these boosters?

My weakness: as I mentioned earlier about a glass of wine, It's nice, but it doesn't help me study. However, I read undemanding books with a wine in bed for pure pleasure.

4. Take care of your neurons

First of all, you need to understand that our brain is responsible for studying. And the brain is an organ and our will is not always enough for its proper functioning. We need to take care of our neurons so that they continue to develop and expand their connections. How to do it? In addition to maintaining overall health, you also need to get enough sleep, have access to fresh air and sun, discover and experience new things and take care of your diet.

My tip: discovering something new every day seems to be an extremely difficult challenge, but it may just be tiny things done in a different way. Changing the place helps me gain a fresh perspective when studying. Sometimes I go to another room, sit by the open window, move everything to the floor or go outside.

If you have any examples of mistakes, good advice or similar problems with studying, you can share them below. There is nothing better than exchanging experiences and having a joint discussion that can bring new solutions to problems!

#studying tips #healthy studying #study inspo #study motivation #studyblr #dark academia #light academia #studyspo #study inspiration #study aesthetic #study blog #studying #productivitytips #studyblr community #tips and tricks #studying inspo

[acecroft]

if you spent less energy on blocking people who did you no harm you would have been okay

i block people for many reasons, one of them just being annoying. and i see absolutely no problem with that. internet is a vast space, which mean even more annoying stuff and people. i have a very stressfull life, here is my little safe space, and if i have tools to hide and block any kind of annoyance, you bet i'll do it

i didn't argue with anyone, i didn't bully anyone, i didn't harass anyone. i simply silently blocked. if that bothers you, it's your problem not mine

i feel like just because i happen to make a lot of gifs on this site for more than a decade consistenly and made tons of gifs, and i made them from variety of fandoms, some people mistake me for some fandom blog. it's not. it's my PERSONAL page, diary if you want. i make those gifs (and always did) first and foremost for myself. if other people like it - great, but i don't make them for them or to be popular here or for notes or for something like that. and btw i do it for free and just share it here. but that doesn't mean i OWE you or any other person here anything

"who did you no harm" i didn't do them any harm either, i just blocked them without any argument even. or you think you or them somehow entitled to see and reblog my gifs??? like i'm some fucking faceless and emotionless, opinionless machine that just makes gifs for yall?!

edited: realized that "if you spent less energy on blocking people" comment was about my recent text post about my depression. well fuck you then

#ask

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

Shanks stayed behind for Buggy when he was sick, but if the roles were reversed, would Buggy do the same for Shanks and miss out on Laughtale? I'm 50/50 but my opinion means nothing because I'm not a One Piece fan (I just love Shanks and Buggy). I'd love to hear your thoughts. You're much more qualified to answer 😂

ooh.

my first thought is: no, he doesn’t stay behind, but he regrets it almost immediately.

justifications below the cut.

see, i’m mostly thinking about this in terms of the character traits that mirror best. shanks is optimistic and passive, his decision to stay put and wait for another opportunity makes perfect sense to me. it makes no sense to buggy, who is impulsively active and a pessimist, assuming the worst and doing things without thinking his actions through, usually with terrible consequences.

but how can going to laugh tale come with consequences?

well. what if buggy feels the same way as shanks—i don’t want to go there without him—but doesn’t realize it until it’s too late?

standing on the last island, watching the rest of the crew walk into the cave that’s supposed to hold this incredible treasure… buggy wants to see it! he wants to take it! but there’s a pit in his stomach that grows bigger and bigger the longer he stands there, alone.

this is wrong.

there’s supposed to be someone else here.

he’s made a terrible mistake.

i don’t think anyone notices that buggy didn’t come in with them until they’re packing it in, done with their laughter (and maybe carving a message for the future at the bottom of that last poneglyph). but rayleigh spots buggy at the entrance to the cave, hunched over in a shuddering, weeping ball, and he realizes what’s happened.

“you didn’t want to see it without shanks after all, huh?”

buggy startles, tries to pretend that he saw it, that he’s fine. he’s just—allergic to something in the air here, yeah! that’s why his eyes are watery!

rayleigh isn’t fooled, but he lets the excuse lie. he gives buggy a reassuring pat on the shoulder and leads him back to the ship. “i’m sure he’ll understand.”

and shanks probably would understand… if buggy ever told him.

because the second key part to this au is that i cannot see buggy ever admitting to this flagrant weakness. he was at the site of the greatest discovery in history! and he turned his back on it because he felt bad that shanks wasn’t there???

he can’t say that!

especially not when they return to that island where shanks has been waiting to find him recovered nicely, pretending that he wasn’t absolutely miserable on his own eager to tell buggy all about the fun little adventures he got up to while he was waiting for them to come back!

he can’t tell shanks the truth now, not when shanks clearly had no problem having a good time without him.

so buggy lies through his teeth, tells shanks that joyboy’s treasure was so cool and it’s too bad shanks was sick and missed it—but hey, they can always go there together someday! buggy already knows the way, so it’ll be easy! plus then buggy will be the only person who’s ever seen it twice, and won’t that be something!

shanks’ eyes are still a little red after whatever captain roger said to make him cry. he manages a small smile. sure, buggy. whatever you say.

and maybe buggy shouldn’t be surprised, the day roger is executed, when shanks tells buggy he doesn’t want to go to laugh tale. after all, shanks was never the kind of pirate who wanted treasure, was he? and what could it matter to buggy? he’s seen it already.

words dry up in buggy’s mouth.

later, the shame will curdle to rage—how dare shanks refuse to go! when buggy turned away from glory and riches for his sake?!—but in the moment all buggy can do is run away.

#asked and answered #one piece #shuggy #shanks #buggy #*shuggy miscommunication #*narrative foils #*buggy’s bad choices #i hope you were looking for pain here anon because that’s what you’re getting! 🙃

[eth3reai]

LOA, thats it.

LOA, which stands for Law Of Assumption. now, you may be asking "wtf is loa and what does it do" -> you assume = it exists. its here, right now. that's it. ITS AS SIMPLE AS THAT! When manifesting, people always make ONE mistake. what is it? PERSISTING. they spend half of the day trying to affirm over and over and over again, but when they check the 3D, their hope is shattered. "I've been affirming the whole day. why are my desires not here yet?" THAT. that is the problem, you are assuming that your desires arent here so now loa AND the 3d will do its thing and not give you your desire.

Focus on the 4D.

the 4d is just your imagination, and the 3ds job is to BE A REFLECTION OF THE 4D. and i wont spread lies, the 3d is most def real, but it is also changeable and that is EXTREMELY ez, that's why the 4d is so important. your present reality now is just a mere reflection of your past thoughts, if you change your thoughts, you change your reality, its so SIMPLE. just. assume. THATS IT! YOU DONT EVEN NEED TO FUCKING AFFIRM. you don't need subliminals, journals, scripts, wtv "techniques" you are doing to manifest your dream reality, its just there to help you and ur manifesting journey. just assume and focus on the 4d, its already urs so why stress? just assume and then live ur amazing, exciting life

ur limitless, don't let nb tell u otherwise x luv from ethai <3

#loassumption #loa #master manifestor #loa blog #manifesting #affirm and persist #manifesation #law of assumption