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silkylious · 3 years

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Limbo (Bakugo Katsuki x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: bakugo katsuki x female reader warnings: heavy angst, eventual tiny bit of fluff at the end

omf this request is so nice i feel so bad that my writing is literally garbage in this, but thank you sm for requesting this!! <3 and im so sorry if i didn’t do your request justice (i legit hate my writing here :’))

To say the state of your relationship was unbearable would be the euphemism of the century.

Your thoughts often ran amuck, always hopelessly crawling back to that one despaired curiosity; wondering if he shared the same sentiment about your wishy-washy “friends” status as you did. He probably didn’t. That’s the seemingly unshakable brick wall that would inevitably dead-end your lovesick daydreams, each and every time. Though when his roughed-up hands linger on your skin a millisecond too long, when his steeled stare melts, hard rubies morphing into blazing lava pits, threatening to mar your very heart and soul with their scorching intensity –you’re not exactly certain you’d mind that– that’s when a flicker of something ignites within you. Hope, longing, doubt. Whatever it is, it terrifies you. Because you’re agonizingly aware of what that entails. He’s got you hook, line and sinker, but torturously he refuses to do anything with that. Almost like pulling someone in for a hug then abruptly and without explanation stopping midway, he keeps you at arm’s length. Not too far, not too close. And how that cycle destroyed you.

Katsuki was the type to jump into action and ask questions later. Except a lot of the times when these questions pertain to his own emotions, he didn’t even try to answer them, opting to shove them to the corners of his psyche, collecting dust, steadily accumulating until they become too much to ignore and he (sometimes quite literally) explodes. It’s a vicious loop that he could never break away from, he’d even come to find a sordid comfort in it. His coping mechanism was by no means healthy, far from it, but he’d grown familiar to the toxicity.

Katsuki couldn’t make heads nor tails of his feelings for you. Whenever he impulsively threw himself into the lion’s den that was your affection, caught in the moment, in the glimmer of genuine adoration in your eyes, he never came back the same. A piece of his heart would irreversibly split off and reside in the palm of your hand, he was scared that nothing would be left of it, that he wouldn’t be able to regain his bearings until it was too late. You so effortlessly juggled with his feelings, all with a single smile, it scared him that you had so much power over the fluttery sensation in his chest and yet, in the moment, it felt good. It felt so good to indulge in whatever fucky feeling was messing with his head, to let you hold him in the depths of obscurity with all prying eyes shut and what little words exchanged hushed. It felt so alleviating to feel skin on his own (for once not in battle), gentle, comforting but not coddling. It was unspoken between you that you were both more than friends. You knew it, he knew it. Neither of you ever mentioned it. What neither of you knew, however, was how far the other’s feelings ran.

But as high as your silent love made him feel, he crashed back down into the concrete when he was left to his own devices. Without your intoxicating scent, distracting touches fogging his rationality, Katsuki had all the time in the world to overthink. And overthink he did. His pride picked apart the delicate flowering in his heart, ripping it petal by petal until nothing was left but a garden of beautifully withered leaves, a condemnation to what he considered a weakness.

Katsuki was a taker by every sense of the word. Basking in your wispy adoration, only to brush you aside in favor of focusing on academics once he’d had his fill of your love. It was sickening.

Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t outright confessed to him, maybe that’s what soothed the overbearing guilt that crawled up his throat whenever he saw that dejected face of yours, the one you made because of him. If your feelings for him ran deep, surely you would have said something by now, at least that’s what he thought. Or more precisely, that’s the excuse his mind conjured up in hopes of easing his conscious, trying to convince himself that self that yes, he was hurting you, but at least he wasn’t hurting you that bad. He was infinitely aware that this doesn’t put him in any sort of moral high ground, nor does it justify his actions, but, again, it was a last-ditch effort to relieve his anguish if just by a little bit, even if he knew that excuse was bullshit.

Surely he knew, there’s no way in hell someone as hawk-eyed as him didn’t notice the tyranny he held over the porcelain pitter-pattering of your heart, didn’t notice the fleeting, love-filled glances you sent his way. This was getting ridiculous, you were starting to believe he was taking some twisted sense of pleasure from your heartache, but he wouldn’t do that, right? He didn’t derive some sick kick out of having you indefinitely under his thumb, at his beck and call… right? A few months ago, you would have answered those uncertainties with a resounding “No!” defending his cruel behavior till the bitter end. But now…

Now you weren’t so sure.

And yet you still found yourself in his dorm, on his bed. It was supposed to be another study gathering, but one thing was glaringly missing. Y’know… the gathering. Kirishima was out training and he hadn’t bothered to invite the rest of his brain-dead, self-proclaimed squad. And that’s how you found yourself alone. With your best friend and secret crush. Just dandy.

Your hands were restless. Pulling at the seams of his blanket, cracking your own fingers, picking up your pencil for a brief moment of concentration, answering one or two questions only to drop it back on the mattress again and fidget some more. Katsuki wasn’t fucking blind, and your unease was ticking him off. Though he surprisingly hadn’t said a thing about it just yet, he was clearly nearing his wit’s end. His silence didn’t prevail for much longer, the meek sigh and not so subtle glance you chanced his way being his tipping point.

“What.” It came out as a statement, a demand rather than a question. What was he demanding? He hadn’t thought of that yet, his temperamental limbs already taking the wheel and pressing on the gas without a destination in mind, just being short fused for the sake of it. Was it even his place to be making demands in this situation? Katsuki knew the answer to this one like the back of his hand, a solid no.

“What…?” You really had no idea what Bakugo was expecting with a question like that. He still had the audacity to roll his eyes.

“The hell’s got you so jumpy?”

“It’s nothing…” It was a lot more than nothing, that’s for sure.

“Don’t lie to me, (name). What the fuck is up with you?” Ah, there it is again. That look. His words were as cut-throat as ever, and his mouth was still pulled into that seemingly permanent scowl. But his eyes conveyed something that was whole worlds asunder from his harsh tone. Golden brows furrowed as they usually were, though unusually upturned just the slightest bit. You despised that look. It ensured that you’ll forever be caught in his grasp, forever there for him when he never spared you the time of day.

Your lungs constricted by a force of gorgeously wretched agony. Katsuki wasn’t fair when he bared his soul to you like this, it filled you with such fervent euphoria that torrefied its way through your being, singeing your veins with luminous infatuation. And it hurt. Because you knew he’d cage himself right up as soon as the moment of vulnerability perished.

A crystalline sheen permeated your vision. This wasn’t going to end well.

“I said it’s nothing,” Your voice raised. You hadn’t meant for the words to be as frosty as they came out, but it seemed like your subconscious was utterly done with the tedium of heartbreak he keeps putting you through.

“What is fucking wrong with you? I was literally just asking why you were being so goddamn obnoxious today and then you go and make a big fuckin’ deal out of nothing!”

“Well, maybe I’m just fucking tired of giving you everything I have and getting nothing in return, Katsuki!”

Your chest rose and fell with each scalding breath that entered your lungs. The blood through your veins was pumping. Never had you been confrontational, and your sudden outburst wasn’t exactly welcome to your system. You wanted to vomit. This was not how you wanted things to turn out, you absolutely needed to leave, distance yourself from the emotional strain he was inflicting on you.

Without taking notice of the panicked glint in the cherry red of his irises, you bolted out of the suddenly claustrophobic room, leaving Katsuki to stare at his agape door before flickering his unfocused attention to your supplies still laying on his bed.

Katsuki erupted time and time again, with you being as patient as a receiving end could ever be. It’s specifically because of your godly patience that he never considered what he would do once you erupted.

With your back sliding down your dorm room door, and little friction stopping your descent, you wondered and maybe even wished he’d call after you, come banging on your door with bristling apologies on the tip of his tongue. However, the jarring reality was very clear to you. You’d decided on that day, with your head buried in your tear-stained pillow, that these were the last tears you’d ever shed on him, that you were going to put him through the same wringing hell he’d put you through.

You were going to ignore Bakugo Katsuki’s existence just like he’d periodically ignored yours.

The following week had been bleak at best and excruciatingly bitter at its worst for the both of you. It was so strange having to adjust to the absence of the other, even if your company more often than not had been a quiet one, it was company nevertheless. The most grueling part though, was your shared friend group. They’d noticed that something was obviously awry, but since neither of you said a thing about it, they decided it would be best if they didn’t either. The awkward dead silences during lunch were still purgatory to behold. But after a few more slow paced days, the sun seemed to shine bright again. For you, that is.

You didn’t realize how much of your schedule revolved around Bakugo until he was completely out of it. How much time you spent with him, dreading him, thinking about him… him, him, him. He’d consumed your thoughts from the first sparks of dawn till the hallows of dusk. You had so much free time now that he was out of the picture, it was crazy. The more time you spent on yourself, on your hobbies, getting to know other classmates outside of your immediate friend circle, the duller the ache in your chest. Until it was but a static buzz. Yet you couldn’t deny that, with time, your fury had mellowed out, leaving behind a cold loneliness you couldn’t elude whenever your aimless stare landed on him, almost like it was drawn to him by muscle memory.

He was the exact opposite.

You’d think the throbbing within him whenever you finally gazed his way then instantaneously looked in the opposite direction would knock come modicum of sense into his stubborn head. But nope. And seeing you thrive without him only cemented what he already knew. He really was no good for you. So much so that it barely took anytime for you to readjust to the lack of him in your life, and not only did you adjust, you were the best he’s ever seen you both mentally and academically. In the first week of you ditching him completely, his bruised ego kept him for reaching out to you, but now, seeing that elated grin on your face –the one that had been gradually dwindling over the past few months– he didn’t want to take your newfound happiness away, he’d figured he’d done you more than enough harm already.

Heart heavy with reluctance, Katsuki made the decision to give up on your relationship. Deciding to wordlessly cheer you on from the sidelines and watch you bloom, flourishing into the person he robbed you of being for a chunk of your life, though whenever your spring hit, it would be without him. Until some day in the future where his pride wasn’t as suffocating, where he could genuinely, wholeheartedly repent his grievances and only hope for your forgiveness.

Kirishima never took Bakugo for a quitter, hell would freeze over before he even thought such a thing. So this was certainly a shock. What was even more shocking – and overwhelmingly concerning– was the fact that Katsuki had willingly, on his own accord confided in him, and he’d, in his own roundabout way, taken accountability for being a gigantic douche to you. As much as the redhead respected his friend’s decision to stay clear of you, he couldn’t help but wish you’d just talk to one another for once. Kirishima really was a saint, having to listen to two idiots ramble about how much they miss the other.

“Listen, man. I know you feel bad and all that, but maybe you should just talk to her? I’m sure she’d like some closure on this just as you do, even if that doesn’t mean things will go back to the way they were.” Eijirou tried to reason, praying to whatever higher being out there that Katsuki would just get the fuck over himself and communicate with you.

“Fuck no. That’s not fucking happening, shitty hair,” Kirishima rolled his eyes at the oh so affectionate nickname, thoroughly done with his best friend’s melodrama. Welp, I guess there’s only one thing left to try. He heaved internally, mentally and physically preparing himself for Bakugo’s tantrum.

“Well, you know that if you won’t talk to her, others will, right? I heard some guys saying they’re gonna ask her ou–”

“Shut the fuck up! I don’t give a rat’s ass who asks her out!” He definitely did. Eijirou hid his smile. Checkmate.

“Whatever you say, dude.”

Later that day, three distinctly powerful knocks woke you up. Needless to say, you didn’t think that night would end up with you and Katsuki staring each other down, seated on your bed at one in the morning. Words got stuck in his throat, so he just… noiselessly watched your face, as if trying to telepathically ram his constipated emotions into you, in hopes that you’d make sense of them. Obviously, that didn’t work.

“Did you come banging on my door at one in the morning just to stare at me, Bakugo? I mean I know I’m pretty but still–”

“Shuddup.” Not really the best thing to say to you after weeks of radio silence. You were about to make another salty remark, but he opened his mouth first.

“I fucked up,” The fact that he was acknowledging he was at fault was… something. But that wasn’t nearly enough to pay off the debt off turmoil he’d caused you.

“No shit.” You replied without missing a beat. The ice that tinged your words caught him off guard, but he really shouldn’t have been surprised. He sighed, knowing he’d have to strip himself of everything, including his pride (especially his pride) down to his very core, to have a go at a second chance.

And so, he did.

He poured his everything out for you to observe, without an ego film distorting his words. Syllables reeked of muted agony, he really had rid himself of anything and everything that wasn’t his deepest soul. He finally offered you himself just as you had done countless times before. Katsuki swore that his heart would –and always has been– explicitly yours, he’d roar that fact at the constellations above if you so wished him to. And while it would take a while to heal from coruscating blisters he’d inflicted, you were more than content mending and welting your heart with his.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugo angst #this is so bad :'))#i kinda gave up at the end fuck #i literally hate this so much whats wrong with my writing #is it just me or does it suck idk #im going night night

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nightshade-minho · 4 years

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-A Single Rose-

Happy birthday Lulu!! I know I'm super late but where I'm from, I just woke up and it's the 14th. :3 Take this mediocre fic anyway hhh im sorry @hardskz

Warnings: pwp, unprotected sex, soft dom Jisung, size kink, praise, eating out, semi-public sex, light daddy kink.

The street was quiet, and the night air was chilly. Jisung adjusted his jacket, shivering slightly. He glanced at his reflection in the shop's window, running a hand through his hair to make sure he looked alright.

Taking in a deep breath, he tried to ignore the way his heart was pounding, and made his way into the shop. Almost immediately, his eyes landed on you behind the counter, humming as you flipped through your novel.

Ah...

Every time he looked at you, he'd be blown away by your beauty. God, you were breathtaking...literally. He somehow always forgot to breathe around you.

As he walked up to the counter, you looked up, tilting your head. His footsteps came to a halt as he leaned against the counter in an attempt to look cool.

Han Jisung didn't really have to try to look cool, though. With one arm entirely covered in tattoos, jet black hair and a lip piercing, people always tended to find him intimidating...at first glance. Look a little closer, and you would see his toothy grin, his goofy personality and endearing habits. No leather jacket in the world could hide the fact that he was just a big old softie...and his softest spot was for you.

It was a little bit of a cliché, and he was aware of it. He was the stereotypical 'bad boy', and you were the daughter of the flower shop's owner. You wore pale yellow sun-dresses, liked reading novels and sometimes wore daisies in your hair.

How could he not be in love with you?

"Jisung...we're closed."

"Oh...b-but it's an emergency..." He stared at you imploringly, his puppy eyes burning into your head even as you tried to avoid looking at him. Sighing, you shut your novel, turning to face him.

"Don't give me that look..."

He pouted, leaning in a little closer. "Pleaaaase? You only closed like, a second ago. It's really urgent." The truth was, he just didn't wanna leave yet...he'd spent an hour back home psyching himself up in the mirror, and now he was ready to confess to you...more or less.

You pursed your lips. "What's the emergency?"

"Um...I need flowers for....uh..." he gulped, all his brain cells choosing that very moment to bail on him. "M-my...my girlfriend!" He blurted, immediately regretting it as soon as the words came out.

A small frown appeared on your features.

"Oh...you never told me you had a girlfriend." You said, trying to mask the disappointment in your voice. Somehow, though, Jisung still caught it.

Wait...was it possible that you might be interested in him after all? God, why the fuck did he make up that lie? It had come out of nowhere, almost like his lips had a mind of their own.

"I...um, that was because it wasn't official, yet. Yeah. So...I need to get her a rose...a pale pink one, please."

That was your favorite flower, and your favorite color. You stood up from your stool, trying to hold your emotions down as you went off to the side of the counter, pulling out a long-stemmed rose from one of the baskets and handing it to Jisung. Your fingers momentarily brushed against his as you gave it to him, and he tried to ignore the butterflies rampaging in his stomach.

"H-how much will that be?"

"You don't have to pay. I've already closed up for the night, any way."

"But-"

"No, really. It will just mean a lot more work for me...so yeah. Um, have fun with your girlfriend tomorrow...bye." You waved, biting your lip and feeling tears rising up. You knew you were being a little too sensitive, but you couldn't help it.

Jisung had been visiting the little shop for months, now. You'd found him a little scary at first, but had quickly warmed up to him. He was always so kind and awkward around you...and you'd almost let yourself believe that he liked you. Maybe you'd mistaken his friendliness for flirtiness, all along.

"Wait..." Jisung's eyes widened in horror as he took in the way your eyes had gotten a little misty. "Y/n, are you c-crying?!"

"What? No, psh." You mumbled, wiping at your cheek as you looked away.

"Fuck, you are. Why? Is it because...because..."

He swallowed. Was he reading the situation right? Was it the newfound knowledge that he had a non-existent girlfriend that had made you cry? He didn't want to assume anything...

"Hey..." Jisung stepped behind the counter, tilting your chin up to face him. His heart spasmed as he took in your wet cheeks...and he knew he couldn't hold it back anymore.

"This...this is actually for you." He said, thrusting the rose in front of you. You frowned, sniffing as you looked up at him in confusion.

"You...y-you said this was for your girlfriend-"

"Exactly." Jisung said hesitantly. His mind couldn't believe that he was finally doing it. His heart had taken complete control of his body and his actions. He tried to maintain the confidence as you stared at him, your face slowly twisting into one of realization.

"I m-mean, that is, if you want to be. I just r-really like you, but I don't really wanna force you into anything that you don't w-"

He was interrupted as you threw your arms around his neck, tiptoeing as you pressed your lips to his. Eyes widening, Jisung's hands hovered in the air as he tried to get over the initial shock. Slowly, the shock gave way to a buzzing sensation in his stomach as he melted into the kiss, setting the rose down and deepening the kiss slightly, hands resting on your waist.

He pulled away, gazing down at you and letting out a small giggle. You blushed and avoided eye contact, looking at your feet. The sudden confidence that had gripped you a few seconds ago had completely disappeared. He took your chin, trying to make you face him again.

"So, does that mean you want to be my girlfriend?" He said, cupping your cheek and gazing at you, the affection in his eyes overflowing.

"Y-yeah..." you said shyly. His eyes twinkled as he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours again.

This time, the kiss was less chaste...more hungry. The atmosphere in the room changed palpably, as his tongue hesitantly slipped past your parted lips. The once sweet kiss was now turning into something more intimate, and Jisung's hands on your waist slowly drifted downwards. You tangled your fingers in his hair and kissed him back passionately, tugging gently on his locks and prompting a groan from him.

He pulled away, biting his lip as he looked down at you. "Baby...do you want this?"

You nodded desperately. "Yes! P-please..."

"Okay...will you be a good little girl for me, hm?"

You nodded again, and he clicked his tongue.

"Words, sweetheart."

"I'll...I'll be a good girl for you."

He smiled proudly, molding his lips with yours once again and lifting you up. You immediately wrapped your legs around his waist as he set you on the counter.

"Fuck." He bit at your lips, groaning. "Your lips are so soft..." You whimpered in response, sighing as he pressed himself against you, rubbing your clothed crotches together.

"Ah baby...why did I wait so long to do this?"

"I-I don't know...Jisung...please, I need you..."

He hummed. "Patience, princess..." He slid his hands up your sun dress, groping at your soft skin.

"You're like my perfect little doll, aren't you? In your pretty little dresses...you're so adorable."

You blushed, the way he was talking about you affecting you deeply.

"I think you'd look even prettier naked, though."

He kissed all over your face, slowly sliding your dress up. "Tiny and cute. Just how I like it."

"Mm....'m not tiny." You humphed. He pulled away, chuckling as he pet your head.

"You're half my size, sweetie." He pulled your dress up further. "Lift your arms, baby." You obeyed, letting him pull the dress over your head and discard it.

He ran his eyes over your body, biting his lip.

"You're perfect. So perfect..." Slowly, he pulled down the cups of your bra, licking his lips as your boobs were exposed to him.

"Cute tits." He mumbled, leaning forward to take a nipple into his mouth. You arched your back, keening as he swirled his tongue around the sensitive bud.

With his other hand, Jisung quickly pulled down his zipper, freeing his straining cock. Your eyes drifted to it, and you gulped at its size.

Jisung chuckled at your expression, fingers coming down to pull your panties off. He kissed your thighs as he went down, looking up at you with twinkling eyes. "Don't worry doll, it'll fit."

You whimpered as his face came level with your pussy, tongue darting out to lick your clit. You choked back a moan, clutching his hair as he suddenly buried his face in your pussy. Taking a deep sniff, he proceeded to eat you out ferociously, his hands stroking your thighs in a soothing motion, the action diametrically opposed to the sinful ministrations of his tongue.

You threw your head back and moaned, the feeling of his tongue exploring you so thoroughly making you see stars.

"You're so delicious- such a juicy pussy, I love it~" he mumbled against your folds, pulling away and getting to his feet. He pressed his lips to yours slowly, letting you taste your own essence.

When you felt his tip rub against your entrance, you mewled desperately into Jisung's ear. The innocent yet needy sound was the last straw for him. As Jisung drove his length into your pussy, his face scrunched as he tried to adjust to just how tight you were.

"Fuck...what a delicate pussy-" he grunted, going deeper."Stretching out so perfectly to make way for my cock."

You whimpered and buried your face in his neck as he gave you an experimental thrust. Carressing your back, he kissed the top of your head as he set a slow pace, going deeper with each stroke. "Shh, darling...it's okay."

He pulled you away from him to face him, heart clenching as he observed your wrecked face. "Daddy...your cock is too...too big." You sniffed. His eyes widened. "W-what did you just call me?"

You keened in response, clenching around him tightly. "Daddyyy~"

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, halting his thrusts as he gazed at you in concern.

"Why'd you stop?" You whined, mouth slightly open. "Please...want Daddy to fuck me open."

He exhaled, thankful that you were okay. "Your wish is my command, princess." He began thrusting faster as you clenched around his length repeatedly, making him cry out.

He pulled out suddenly, making you whine in despair. "Shh, baby don't worry..." He moved you over on the counter slightly and climbed onto it himself, crawling over you. Leading his cock back to your pussy, he leaned down to kiss you again.

You felt your heart beat pounding out of your chest as Jisung pulled away, lifting your leg over his shoulder. The new angle let him go deeper, and soon you felt the head of his cock hit your sweet spot.

He kept going, his hands going from your hips to your cheeks, squishing them as he leaned down to plant another kiss on your lips...and then another, and then another.

"I can't get enough of you. I don't think I ever will- oh, fuck-"

You moaned as his thrusts became sporadic, chasing his own high. You felt the flames of arousal lick at you, threatening to turn into a blaze of pleasure. His cock kept rubbing up against your sweet spot, and soon you were clenching tightly, on the precipice of your high.

"Daddy...please, let me cum..."

"Cum, baby-" he choked out, grunting as he felt himself hit his high at the same time you did. He filled you up with his cum, groaning as your walls were painted white. Panting, he continued fucking you through your orgasms, slowing down and collapsing on top of you once the over-sensitivity started setting in.

There was a comfortable silence for a few minutes. It felt almost magical, the way he was holding you so tenderly...the two of you surrounded with beautiful petals and blooms.

"I could stay here forever..."

"I could, too, but we don't want your father finding us like this in the morning, do we?"

"Heh. No..." You paused suddenly, frowning as you remembered something. Slowly, your eyes travelled to the security camera on the ceiling, pointed right at the two of you.

"Ah, fuck."

#skz smut #stray kids smut #jisung smut #han jisung smut #jisung fluff #han jisung fluff #skz x reader #stray kids × reader #jisung fics #jisung imagines #han smut #han fluff

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ayatosmlktea · 3 years

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best boyfriend series | kirishima

A/N: So there is a list me and the gal pals have compiled of who we think are the best boyfriends in the entire world. I haven’t been in a thirsting mood for so long probably bc im mad ✨depressed✨ so the only thing on my mind is soft boys and how amazing they are. This is the most writing I've done in months but I wrote this for Bri’s birthday a while back and am now sharing them with you bc we could all use some wholesome kiripima

I wrote these as the thoughts came to my mind so...its not really organized ANYWAY enjoy!

- Your sense of humour and easy going personality is what draws him in even if he doesn’t realize it to be love in the beginning

- Even when he’s training with bakugou his eyes are always searching you out, the way you handle your quirk takes his breath away he just thinks you look so badass in combat

- Every time you ask if he wants to study together his heart starts racing so fast it feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest and he has to fight back the blush that burns the back of his neck and ears whenever you giggle

- As you and Mina become closer, you start hanging out more with the bakusquad.

- Kiri finds himself getting increasingly distracted by you, he notices every little thing like the way your eyes shine whenever you smile, the way cover your mouth when you laugh which bothers him because the entire world deserves to see how beautifully radiant you look when you’re happy

- He notices the way your body language changes when you’re tired, how your attitude gets a little grumpier when you’re hungry and through learning all of that Kiri steps in to make you whole

- When you’re tired he passes you his notes to copy after class just giving you a knowing smile and ignoring the way his heart flutters when you stare at him like he’s your knight in shining armour

- He doesn’t like the way that Denki and sero playfully flirt with you, it makes him feel weird although he knows he has no right to be jealous so he ignores it

- During your second year you start dating Shinsou and Kiri can feel his world come to a halt, his heart plummets into this stomach but he puts on a fake smile and tells you that he’s happy for you and he hopes Shinsou treats you right

- You don’t seem to notice the way the light in his eyes is gone, how much more time he puts into training now that you’re busy with your new relationship and as bitter and mad as he wants to be he knows you deserve to be happy, even if it isn’t with him so he pushes his feelings down and acts like he isn’t being punched in the gut every time you kiss shinsou and not him

- Your last night in the dorms before summer vacation Kirishima finds himself being woken up by a quick series of knocks on his door

“Denki I told you already pennywise is not under your be-” he stops mid sentence when he finds you outside of his door, sniffling with red rimmed eyes

- He’s barely awake and processing what’s happening as he opens his door wider so you can come inside before one of the teachers catches you out of bed and on the boys side of the dorms

- He can hear that you’ve been crying and are still trying not to when you apologize for waking him up so late but you didn’t know who else to go to and suddenly his entire body is burning with anger when you tell him that Shinsou broke up with you

- He can’t help but let out a broken laugh, Shinsou never deserved your heart in the first place. If he couldn’t see how dedicated you were to the people you loved, how you cared for your friends and put their needs above yours, how incredibly talented and hardworking and beautiful you were then he was the dumbest man alive

- You’re suddenly quiet and Kiri realizes that he’s said all of that outloud and the overwhelming urge to disappear consumes him. He was sure that you were going to get up and walk out and never speak to him again but you don’t

- Instead you ask if he means what he said so quietly he can barely hear it and despite how hot his cheeks are burning with embarrassment he tells you he does

- He stops you when you lean in to kiss him and his heart hurts when he can see the rejection and embarrassment paint your features but he tells you that it’s not because he doesn’t want to kiss you, because of course he wants to, but he doesn’t want to take advantage of your feelings when you’re going through an emotional time

- You two spend the summer hanging out- just as friends, he wants to give you time to get over Shinsou because the last thing he wants is to be your rebound

- But with every day that goes by he finds it harder not to kiss you, not to hold your hand, not to text you every second of the day, not to tell you that he loves you

- The realization that he loves you doesn’t scare him, but it is the first time he admits to himself and accepts it rather than trying to bury it and so after he walks you home and you turn to go into inside he grabs your wrist and pulls you in for a kiss

- It’s not the most coordinated kiss but it sets every nerve in his body on fire and you’re both clinging onto each other like it’s your only lifeline. You break apart with the biggest smiles on your face and in that moment Kiri knows he’s going to spend the rest of his life with you

‧͙⁺˚*·༓☾　　☽༓·*˚⁺‧͙

- Well i wasn’t planning to write all that so now let’s get into WHY he’s the best bf

He’s 100% devoted to you, literally you could be in a room full of fkn models and his eyes would be focused on you because he thinks you’re the most beautiful woman to walk the earth

Any other relationship you’ve had in the past does not even come close in comparison to how Kiri treats you

- He would give up his life to make sure you’re happy, seeing you upset breaks his heart because he cannot stand the sight of you crying. It literally tears a whole in his chest

- If it’s within his power to deal with, he will make sure that whoever hurts you does not make the same mistake again. Maybe its a little unethical to use his pro-hero status to strike fear into the heart of creeps who won’t leave you alone at work, or the girls who enjoy gossiping about your relationship behind your back but he does not give a single fuck

- Your happiness comes before his and if you aren’t happy, he’s not happy.

- If he hears people talking about your relationship and making it seem as though you’re only with him for the fame or money he’ll tear them down with the brightest smile on his face not missing a beat

- While he acts all big and scary fighting villains, when he comes home to you at the end of the day he is the most cuddly person you’ve ever known. It doesn’t matter how exhausted he is, he always grabs you in for a hug and doesn’t let you down until he’s satisfied.

- Kiri is really big on skin to skin contact, expect him to constantly be slipping his hands under your shirt and wrapping his arms around you at the most random times

- When you guys are getting ready to sleep he’ll pull you snug against his chest and bury his face in the nape of your neck,

Your scent helps him fall asleep, not in a creepy way but in a ‘you’re safe and here with me so i can close my eyes knowing that everything is okay’ kind of way.

‧͙⁺˚*·༓☾　　☽༓·*˚⁺‧͙

- In my humble opinion, once kiri catches feelings for you they’ll never fade

- Even if you fight, it only reminds him of everything you two have built together and that you’re worth fighting for

- You hear a lot of your friends complain about how their boyfriends never listen to them, or how they don’t know what they like, you watch them shamelessly flirt with other guys and wonder what it must be like to be in such an unsatisfying relationship

- Kiri knows you better than you know yourself, he’s so in tune with you and your body that you don’t even need to ask him to do anything, he just knows

- He remembers little dates that most boyfriends dont, your first kiss, your first date, the first time he said “i love you” outloud

- He also is the first one to say it and it happens when you’re just hanging out in his room

- He’s known that he’s been in love with you for months but didnt want to say it too soon and have you freak out but after nearly six months in it’s driving him crazy not being able to tell you he loves you

- When he does your eyes glisten with tears and he freaks out thinking that he’s said too soon until you’re crushing him in a hug and tell him that you love him too

- When you’ve had a bad day at work or life is just becoming too stressful for you to deal with he puts everything else on hold to comfort you

- Makes you your favourite meal for dinner, gets your favourite show ready to watch after your shower and massages your feet while you snack on some ice cream for dessert

- Ever since you’d started dating Kiri had a habit of “accidentally” forgetting his hoodies at your place, spraying them with a bit of extra cologne while you were in another room

- He loved it when you wore his clothes, it filled him with a feeling he couldn’t quite describe but it solidified in his mind that you were his

- After almost four years of dating he knows that he can’t spend another second without you being his, forever

- He stays up all night looking at engagement rings but none of them are good enough for you so he does a little more research and finds a place that makes custom rings and has the date the first time he kissed you engraved on the inside of the ring

- He 100% cries the second he sees you walk down the aisle, if he thought you were beautiful before, there’s nothing else that compares to you on your wedding day

- Everything else drowns out around him and the other thing that matters is you, sliding your rings onto each other fingers and sharing your tearful vows and then you’re pronounced husband and wife and his entire being is elated

- He kisses you with a passion and fervour you’ve never felt before, like he’s pouring his soul into the kiss , every promise he’s ever made and will make and all the things he can’t find the right words to say are transmitted

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between-two-fandoms · 3 years

Text

Who We Used To Be (Ray/Rose/Trevor)

As told by myself and @thesevenumbrellas tag teaming the whump in the 18+ JatP discord. Sev I swear we operate on the same braincell levels, we do be clowning. @bobbywilsonsupremacy let us know what you think of this! I know you and I both hardcore ship Raybse.

Cover was created by @thesevenumbrellas. Please don’t steal it.

This post got long so fair warning.

We wrote this in a discord server over the time span of hours so there’s some mistakes but i’m too lazy to go back and fix it all. Basically we tag teamed on a Raybse Trevor Wilson-centric whump story and can destroy a fandom with a single touch.

You’ll understand once you click the cut.

Don’t Steal Our Writing (but please reblog this to spread it around).

Trauma Time.

major whump warning

(Ren) Okay so if we're gonna be starting at 90's ot3 my children ray/bobby/Rose know that Ray is a panic bi and loves both of these humans very much with his whole ass heart.

(Ren) He takes pictures of his girlfriend and boyfriend while they’re on dates because he wants to capture the moments he was happy the most. Bobby always shed away from the camera burying his face in Rose's shoulder or leaning in for a kiss. Anyways as time goes by Ray notices Bobby's change in behavior. From being his go-happy-trauma boyf to being caught up in the music scene, often out at all hours to parties and label meetings only to come to to sleep on the couch, not even sharing the bed like he used to. It reminds Ray of the time when Bobby was grieving his boys. Ray hates it, but he loves bobby so he pushes his feelings aside to try and arrange more dates for the three of them to go on together.

(Sev) Ray waking up to only Rose in the bed and not Bobby, and it feels too cold in bed without him. So he'll try to call him, because it's 3am and he's supposed to be home and he's not. And Ray remembers what happened to Bobby's bandmates, and he can't admit it out loud but he's worried. Because what if that happens to Bobby? He knows it was a freak accident! What are the odds of it happening again?? But he can't shake that feeling when Bobby doesn't come home at night and Ray stays up all night worrying. Anyway he tries to call Bobby and Bobby doesn't answer. He'll leave loads of voicemails, trying not to be pushy because he knows Bobby doesn't respond well to that. But he's worried. He'll say "hey please call me when you get this." and then ten minutes later try again "hey just text me that you're safe okay?" He can't sleep because Bobby still isn't home. It's 5am. He has to go to work in two hours. Rose keeps telling him to go to bed but he can't.[2:58 PM]Bobby finally texts back. "I'm okay! Was playing with some friends, the gig went over time and then we went to party." Ray wants to be angry because seriously? No phone calls because he was at a party? But he knows that'll just push Bobby away more!

(Ren) And so Ray has all of these festering emotions that boil down to worry and concern at the core but he's just so scared hes losing Bobby cause he never really had his own family to begin with and then one day when Ray comes home early from a photoshoot he can hear Bobby and Rose fighting over Bobby signing the contract that says he wrote Luke's songs but Ray just hears yelling before he even opens the door with his name thrown into the mix and then he gets even more scared because what if he loses Rose and Bobby? if he lost both of them he'd be destroyed. So he doesnt knock. He doesnt go home. Instead he walks around the city until he was supposed to go home originally and he opens the door and there's a sort of eerie silence in the air.

(Sev) Trevor’s unable to shake the feeling that something terrible will happen to Rose and Ray because he's with them. His entire family were killed in 1 night because he wasn't there with them. So at first he's clingy as fuck to Rose and Ray because what if something bad happens when he's not there? What if what if what if... But as time goes on the thinking flips. Maybe it's the music industry that's the problem. It's these weird connections in his head of if he's too successful, bad things might happen. But he can't quit music like that, he can't give up on Luke's dream. He owes his boys to become successful. So instead he distances himself from Rose and Ray. That way they won't be caught up in whatever bad thing is going to happen to him. He distances himself and he waits for it all to drop. He waits for the universe to punish him again.

(Ren) And the universe punishes Bobby when the tension between him and Rose tightens so much he knows there's no going back from it but he's not admitting to stealing the songs because he didn't. He helped Luke write all of the songs more than Alex and Reggie ever did, staying up late with Luke after fights with his mom and Bobby didn’t want Luke to be alone so yeah, he wrote the songs. Maybe not as much as he claimed but he sure as hell made sure his brother wasn’t alone so that counted for something right? And it did. Until Rose kicks him out of bed because she's pissed he'd even consider stealing music and he cant tell Ray because of the NDA the label got him to sign at a party when he was drunk and the only reason Rose knows about it is because she was there when he signed the damn thing and so Bobby pulls away from Ray because isnt it going to be easier in the long run? If he doesn’t attach himself to Ray who'll just get angry at him like Rose did?

(Sev) It's the guilt that grows inside of him every passing day. They're my songs too he tells himself over and over again. But during the dark nights, three glasses of whisky in when the world is getting hazy... even he can't believe the lies he tells himself. He fucked up Sunset Curve. He fucked up his friends' memories. And now he fucked up the only good thing he'd ever had. Ray texts him nonstop. He doesn't understand why Rose kicked Bobby out and he doesn't understand why Bobby listened. Bobby can't take Ray away from Rose. He's fucked up and a terrible person, but even he can't do that. He doesn't give Ray his new address. He refuses to meet up even for Ray to give him his stuff back. All Bobby can do is hold onto Ray's sweatshirt he stole away and a bottle of perfume the same brand Rose always wears. He cradles these things in his arms and cries.

(Ren) And that's the last he sees of Ray for all of 5 years, 20yr old puppy-dog eyed loving precious ray who Bobby would run to the second Rose says its okay. But rose never does. And then Bobby meets a cute blonde and six months later the barista shows up on his doorstep shoving Carrie into his arms calling her a bastard child. Carrie is not a bastard child Carrie is his and he loves her the second he sets eyes on her and so Bobby turns into Trevor when the new year rolls around and he starts his own album. It doesn’t do as well as Luke's his first album did but it was his. And then one day Trevor signs Carrie up for dance because Trisha from first grade made fun of her for not being able to do the splits and on the way out of the dance studio Trevor bumps into Ray, a terrified looking girl clutched to his leg. Carrie doesn't miss a beat. "Hi! I'm Carrie let's be friends!" and Carrie drags Ray's daughter off and Trevor shifts awkwardly and is suddenly 17 again but Ray's eyes still twinkle like the did when they were kids and he's still wearing eyeliner so Trevor almost missed it when a flicker of recognition crosses Ray’s face and a smile quirks at the corners of his lips and he says, "hi im Ray, thats my daughter Julie. Wanna go out for a drink?" With that same mischievous glint in his eye that made Bobby fall in love with him in the first place.

(Sev) Trevor almost stops breathing. He should say no. He knows he should say no. He's an awful person. He doesn't deserve someone like Ray. He never deserved either of them. He knows that. But can't force himself to say no. Maybe it's the twinkle in Ray's eyes. Maybe it's the soul crushing loneliness he's felt ever since he left them. Or maybe it's the way Carrie and Julie are giggling in the corner like they've known each other all their lives. He says yes. The drink ends up at a family friendly restaurant with both the girls in tow.

(Ren) Rose shows up because Ray the asshole apparently texted her while he was in the car saying he met one of Julie's friend's parents and wanted to go out on a date (keeping things pg ofc) aklsdf. And when Rose does show up Trevor sees how... sick she looks. How much paler she looked than she did all those years ago how - he still knew he loved her even if she still decided she hated him.

(Sev) The mood drops quickly. Trevor wants to ask about Rose, but not in front of the kids. Ray wants to ask about their past, but not in front of the kids. Rose... Rose who holds all the answers... doesn't know where to start first. She had never regretted not telling Ray the truth. She never wanted to change Ray's perception of Bobby like that. Ray who looked at their boyfriend as if he'd hung the moon. Ray who stayed up worrying all night until Bobby came home. Ray who held Bobby through countless nightmares... But that makes the truth staring them in the face so much harder. Because she never gave Ray the choice. She realized that a few years too late after she catches Ray staring at old pictures of Bobby in their photo albums. She'd made the choice for him. And then there's Trevor... still beautiful, staring at her with so much concern her heart breaks all over again.

(Ren) The tension doesn't fly over Carrie's head like he hoped it would, she talks to Julie about My Little Pony and Pokemon and High School Musical and their mutual hatred for Trisha from school but Carrie's hand never lets go of his and he finally plucks up the courage and stretches his arm out and says "we're vegetarian for the most part, hope that's okay." And a smile quirks at the corner of her lips and she asks "for the most part?" and Trevor nods and Carrie pipes up from her seat saying "daddy hates hot dogs,” in that blatant fact kind of way kids say things without realizing how problematic it could be. It wasn’t her fault though, Trevor has yet to tell her about her uncles, about how he was in a band, about how they were going to be legends.

(Sev) Rose and Ray both freeze at Carrie's voice. He doesn't know if the girls notice, because he's too busy trying to fight back the panic in his throat. It's been a long time since anyone had brought up ... what happened. It's easy to pretend it didn't happen when his name is Trevor and no one knows him. But these two people know him. They know him more than anyone else ever has. Even the boys. The truth hits him hard at that moment. A truth he'd been avoiding for almost two decades. Ray and Rose know him better than even he knew himself. Maybe that was why Rose had been so furious with him, or why Ray continued to chase after him even months after he moved out. Trevor hides the building panic and sudden realization with a smile. "What an I say," he said as causally as he can. "I'm a picky eater." A few hours later they end up back at the Molina's house. Bobby has no idea how it happened. -No, Trevor has no idea how it happened, he scolds himself. He's Trevor. He has to be Trevor. Trevor got him this far, Trevor made the difficult choices. Bobby was the one who got his friends kill and destroyed the best relationship he ever had. Still, it becomes harder and harder to remind himself of that. To stop himself from slipping into the comfortable shoes of Bobby, boyfriend of Ray and Rose as if the past 17 years had never happened. He finds himself on their sofa, a sofa that brings back memories both good and bad... he finds himself in a familiar home, his old studio just a short walk away, his ex's giggling in the kitchen as they make his coffee the way he's always liked it without asking for a reminder.

(Ren) Trevor can remember the day he stopped drinking the coffee Ray made for him, the morning after his first fight with Rose, when he wakes up cold because Rose basically cocooned herself around Ray's body, keeping her back turned to him and as much as he wanted to reach out to Ray, to hug him and comfort him and tell him it was all going to be okay... everything was too stuffy and too tense and deciding he just had to leave because he was going to suffocate otherwise.

(Sev) He should leave, just like last time. What was he even doing here? He should take Carrie and- Then Ray's in front of him, pushing a hot cup into is hands. "The girls are playing upstairs," he says. His voice is so calm, so understanding. "We don't have to talk if you don't want to." Trevor almost laughs. Because that's so like Ray. Almost a decade without answers and he's giving Trevor the option to ignore it all. To pretend like nothing ever happened. But he can't be that selfish again. So he shakes his head. "I'd... like to talk to you... to both of you."

(Ren) And then suddenly rose is eyeing him sus but he's been putting this off for to long and honestly fuck his label because they screwed him over one too many times for him to still even consider their relationship anything other than employee-client1[4:06 PM]and so Trevor takes a sip of Ray's coffee holy shit how did go so long without it?! and he explains it. he explains everything.

(Sev) Ray doesn't speak as Trevor explains. He never interrupts or even look surprised. His face is completely unreadable. He doesn't move until Trevor's done. And then once he is, he only stands up to start pacing the room. Trevor's oddly reminded of Alex as he does so, and the memory is enough to make him flinch. "This... this is what you two have been hiding from me for so long?" he asked, voice brittle. "This is... this is what cost us... I mean..." But he can't finish. Ray just shakes his head, back to both Rose and Trevor.

(Ren) Suddenly he's seventeen again. Seventeen and a mess in Ray's arms burying his face into the man's chest finally feeling the weight of the world lift off of his shoulders and suddenly Rose is hugging him from behind, her too-skiny bone arms snaking around his chest and hugging him tightly threatening to never let him go saying "amour," and pressing a kiss to the back of his head, "amour we never stopped loving you."

(Sev)It's like no time has passed by the time he's done crying his eyes out. They're all huddled on a sofa that was always too small for three. Trevor's in the middle, clutching at them both as if they're going to disappear on him. Ray sits with his legs underneath them, his arms pulling the both of them into his chest. And then there's Rose, suddenly so much more delicate than Trevor remembers. She sits half on his lap, curled into them, her fingers knotted in his hair. "I can't believe you two kept this from me," Ray whispers. There's no anger. He doesn't think Ray's ever been capable of being angry. "I'm sorry," Trevor whispers, throat raw from tears. Ray answers with a firm kiss to his temple. "We wasted so much time..."

(Ren) Trevor just lays between them in their bed, nothing sexual and nothing tense it’s just them being together and Rose playing with his now-long hair, braiding it right down the middle despite it being too long for others to braid. Her fingers feel nice as they tug at his roots, familiar and a sense of calm washes over him. He lets ray fop on top of him like they used to, burying his head in his chest just listening to his heart beat, his steady constant breathing because Ray used to be afraid one day he'd wake up and Bobby would be dead too. Rose humming lightly, soft lullabies that chased away dark thoughts and Trevor just finds it so comforting, a feeling of home he hasn't had since the day he left and so he wraps his arms around Rose and Ray tight, promising himself he won't screw up his second time around.

(Sev) It's a few hours later when he speaks again. The girls are asleep in Julie's room (delighted at their surprise sleepover.) Ray's almost nodded off, head resting against Trevor's chest. But Rose is wide awake. She's laid out, tangled between them, eyes focused on something far away. He can see it more clearly now. The tremble in her hands, the way she's so still, the circles around her eyes. He takes her hand in his. "What is it?"

(Ren) And Trevor wants it to be a prank, he wants the sinking feeling in his gut twisting around his heart, the same feeling he had the morning of Sunset Curve's Orpheum performance coiling up his spine to go away. He wants everything to be okay, that he told the truth, that he was forgiven, that the universe was finally on his side for once but of course it's not because when has it ever been. Rose's fingers run lightly over his knuckles and Ray wraps his arm around him from behind, his hands resting against Trevor's chest, something solid for him to focus on and as a tear starts to roll down Rose's cheek he reaches up to brush it away, running his hand through her hair only to pull out a clump as he pulled away but he couldn't run when his instincts to run kick in like they always used to do when situations turned emotional, bury it in his mind and lock up his worries like he always did but this wasn't going to be something he could run from.

(Sev) Life is not the fantasy or a fairy tale. There are no happy endings, only happy moments. He'd like to say they picked up right where they left off, Rose lived until a ripe old age, and they never fought again. But he'd be lying. It was hard to fold their lives back into place again, especially with Carrie and Julie. To just pick up after their seventeen year old selves was an impossible dream. But they could do breakfast. And breakfast became dinner. Dinner became one date which became two which became many. It took trouble and care, but they slotted themselves back into each other's lives again. There were lunch dates, and movie nights. There were late night wine dates and early morning coffee dates. They found their happy moments. A decade of separation had smoothed out the rough edges. If Trevor stormed out after a harsh argument, he'd return the next day with flowers and apologies. If Rose snapped and lost her temper, she'd take herself off for a walk to cool down. If Ray was bothered by something, he'd speak up instead of pushing it all down. They found their happy moments. And when 1 month became 1 year, they celebrated with moving boxes and a new, bigger couch. When 1 year became 2, they celebrated with promise rings and whispers of a better future between light kisses. 3 years became 4, became 5, and so on... They found their happy moments. But life is not a fantasy or a fairy tale. Their story ends in a hospital. Rose dies with both her husbands at her side, with both her daughters and son clutching on her hands. She dies with a smile on her face, knowing she is not leaving them to suffer alone. Ray and Trevor grieve together.

(Ren) And this time the girls are the ones who get into the fight but Trevor and Ray are there for Julie and Carrie no matter what they're fighting over carrie told julie she liked flynn but julie said flynn was hers first and doesnt understand how she can feel squishy love for two people. And this time the girls are the ones who get into the fight but Trevor and Ray are there for Julie and Carrie no matter what they're fighting over carrie told julie she liked flynn but julie said flynn was hers first and doesnt understand how she can feel squishy love for two people. They stick to their daughters through the worst of it but they don’t let the girl’s fighting rip into them too. It’s not what Rose would’ve wanted for them, it’s not what she would’ve wanted for Julie or Carrie either.

(Sev) And when Julie plays with her ghost band, it's much earlier that Trevor recognizes who she's playing with.

(Ren) Luke’s mad at first, ofc he is but after everything is explained and out in the open Trevor finds himself at home in a building that never felt like home despite the fact he grew up in it.

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

Text

Writers Block

pairing: todoroki shouto x reader

warning: upsetti-spaghetti, fluff

word count: 1,454

a/n: so, I wrote this last night as something super self-indulgent. I had a second thought as to whether I should upload this, but I think this is something that all of us writers experience at one point. writers block. since october i’ve been heavy in writers block and entailed in this story below is every frustration I have, every annoyance I have. it’s hard and its frustrating. I wish that it wasn’t something that is as common as it is, and I want to get over this writers block because I love writing. im getting there I know it, just not quite there. thank you for reading this, and hope you enjoy. this is also for any and all people experiencing some sort of block.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

You stared at the blank screen in front of you.

Your fingers hesitated above the worn keys as you contemplated what to write next. What should it be? Who should it be about? Why were you writing this?

Why were you writing?

The screen fades into subtle darkness as you’re unable to think of anything, and your frustration rises as you slap your hands against your face. Why couldn’t you write? Were you out of inspiration? Was this a writer’s block that seemed to weigh on you for months now? Are you writing because you loved it or because you wanted the recognition?

Countless unfinished drafts sat in your documents, untouched prompts swam in your head, and yet whenever you sat in front of your computer ready to work, your creativity diminished. You had no inspiration and every word you thought about leaving you questioning if what you were doing was correct.

Writing was among the hardest things you’ve ever done. It was your saving grace and it was your downfall.

Were you writing for you or for them?

“You know, you don’t look okay, love,” a voice whispers in your ear.

Your body is tense with suppressed annoyance, suppressed anger, and bitterness. The tension in your jaw comes undone and the pounding headache eases, but as you move to speak you realize how thick with emotion your throat is. So, you stare at your boyfriend who stands behind the chair you sit in. His fingers resting on your shoulders as you lean back onto him.

“I’m just trying to write,” you murmur as you stare at the blinking line of the cursor. You need to write something— anything really. Yet you couldn’t think of a single word to write.

Everything seemed too cliche when you tried to write and you were sick of it.

“Why do you write?” Shouto asks as he gently massages your terse shoulders.

A sigh escapes your lips as he works out stiff knots in your skin and you shudder as his hand warms up pleasantly around your spine.

“I don’t know,” you groan as he works out another knot.

“Don’t you like writing?”

“I guess,” your eyes fall as tears prick the back of your eyes.

Why would you say that? You loved to write, it was calming and therapeutic. It was an escape from reality and it was something that gave you joy to see others appreciate as well. Right now it seemed that you couldn’t remember your excitement. It seemed you could only focus on the nonsensical reasons for your turn off to writing.

“Then why do you continue?” Shouto continues to prod as you moan softly against his touch. “If you don’t like something, why do you keep forcing yourself to do it?”

“I-I don’t know,” you barely manage to speak as embarrassment and sadness fill your being. No one would care that much if you left after all. Sure, maybe one or two would be sad and express that fact, but they’d move on. They would manage. “...it’s an obligation.”

“You write for random people on the internet who have infatuations with an anime character,” Shouto chuckles as he gets you to stand and sits down, pulling you back onto his lap. You’re silent as you curl into his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck. Your cheek lays against the soft material of the sweater and you can only hear his steadily beating heart. It’s quicker than normal, but again, his heart rate was always much higher when you were around. “While I’m not sure if I regret making you watch the anime with me, you’re certainly not obligated to write for them. You are busy with other things, you are busy living your own life. They can and have to understand that your life comes before them.”

His hand strokes your back as tears silently fall down your face, “It’s n-not that, Shouto.” He nudges you softly with his nose and you give a wet snort as you sigh. “It’s just… I don’t feel competent anymore. Everything I write is out of place, nothing I write seems to gain any attention, and it’s disheartening. I hate feeling this way— I hate feeling like I’m ungrateful for what I have, but that’s how I feel.”

“What’s wrong with feeling that way?”

“People have it worse than I do! My achievements aren’t entirely normal so how can I complain when people don’t have it the same?!”

Shouto’s lips pursed at your exclamation, his eyes searching your tear-soaked gaze intently as he tries to figure it out. Your eyes flutter closed when he presses a soft kiss to your chapped lips, a soft sob shoving out from your mouth as you pull away, your head shaking.

His fingers, however, move to your face, gripping your tear-stained skin as he forces you to look at him. “There was this annoying, wise, and beautiful woman who told me that your griefs are valid, no matter how much more significant the pain is. Y/n, you’re in a slump right now, you’re not feeling okay! It doesn’t matter if you have one follower or one million, your feelings are valid. If you want to be upset, be upset! There’s always something upsetting when you go out of your way for things and they do not have the recognition you want from it.”

“That was a ‘this rule doesn’t apply to me’ rule,” you weakly giggle as he buries his nose into the crook of your neck. “But I know that, yet every time I feel upset I remember that people struggle constantly, and I can’t do anything about them. I’m lucky to have what I do, so my problems are just so… so dumb!”

“It’s okay,” Shouto promises as he rubs circles into your back, but you’re not done yet.

“And I’m in this fucking slump! I’m exhausted from writing! I put in so much effort into everything I do, and everyone expects that I don’t! I’m fucking sick and tired of people not liking my things, I’m tired of people not fucking sharing my shitty writings, I’m tired of seeing a lack of goddamn comments. I want more but no one seems to want to give it to me?! Am I that fucking horrible that no one wants to uphold those standards to me? Am I just some shitty-ass charity winner in the author category?! I want to be more but I’m not good enough and I’m just so tired!”

You’re sobbing into Shouto’s shoulder as this wave of pressure releases from you, and you shrink against him further as you feel light again.

“Then I’ll support you,” Shouto whispers after some time. “I love your writings, and I’ll do more to make sure that you’re seeing that I love it too. But how do we get you out of this slump?”

You sniffle in gratitude and embarrassment as you slam a hand against his chest.

“I’ll cry if you do that…”

“It’s a good thing I have so many tissues then.”

“I think… I just need to sit down and write,” you mumble, addressing the slump part of your questionnaire. “I just need encouragement.”

“Well,” Shouto chuckles as he shifts you around so that you can face your laptop on the table. “I think I can handle the encouragement, you handle the amazing writing.”

Your fingers fall onto the weathered keyboard and key by key you type. This is a piece for you, a piece to make you feel like you can write again. Writing is your domain and it’s something you were destined to do, or else why did you start to begin with?

The world went silent as the story flowed mindlessly from your head to your fingers, and Shouto’s calming whispers and touches only fueled you on as one sentence became a paragraph. One paragraph became a page. One page turned to many and soon enough you had typed your last word.

Everything felt like it was frozen in time as you realized what you had managed, and tears welled back into your eyes as Shouto hugged you in pride and excitement.

You did it.

Maybe you weren’t out of this slump right now, but you managed to get something done. That was more than what you had expected of yourself and you screamed in delight as Shouto picked you up and spun you in his arms.

Delighted giggles escaped your lips as he peppered kisses against your face, words of encouragement heavy on his lips as he kisses you again and again. It wasn’t until you had started crying again did he stop.

“...Shouto?”

“Hm?”

“I l-love you.”

“... I love you more.”

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

message to be apart of my taglist

#todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki imagine #todoroki scenario #todoroki shouto x reader #bnha writing blog #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha todoroki #mha #mha x reader #mha imagines #mha todoroki #todoroki fluff

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billhaderlovebot · 5 years

Text

beep beep (3) - richie tozier.

(how fucking babey is this man?? i??? hhhh???)

@ceruleanrainblues @the-star-above-you @a-second-hand-sorrow

ok! so! some like, violence type stuff? some fluff, some angst, richie being babey, bad language, sex references. here we go lesbians.

---

it had taken richie everything in him not to break when he had returned from the arcade. not to just unravel in front of you and let himself go.

but he didn't. he couldn't.

and he couldn't, now, either.

when pennywise, with gnarled, elongated hands and fingers that almost looked barbed, lifted you from the ground.

ripped you from richie's arms and held you struggling in the air.

"always the hardest to scare." It said, and you groaned in discomfort as It's hot breath fanned the back of your neck, its clawed, twisted hand tightening around your waist. "always the fighter."

"you get the fuck off of her, right the fuck now." richie gritted his teeth, clenching and unclenching his fists. yeah, he was probably going to throw up.

richie loved you.

obviously.

he had loved you every single day of his life since he was fourteen fucking years old. every single day.

he knew, now, staring at you, your body curled around his protectively even though you were so much smaller, that his wretched heart would continue to love you for every moment of the rest of his life (plus two or three weeks, for good measure.)

often, when you were kids and you'd nap together in his bed because his parents were out (they were always out) and you needed to be near each other, he would fall asleep after you, just so he could lay awake and watch you breathe. watch you exist so serenely and look so fucking soft in his arms that he could have cried. you looked frightfully vulnerable when you were asleep, though, which always bothered him.

now, years later, you were no different. breaths coming slow and warm and ghosting across the crook of his neck where you had buried your face. so small. so vulnerable.

richie subconsciously held you a little tighter.

he would do anything for you, good lord.

even if it killed him.

you'd been asleep for about a half hour, but richie couldn't drift off.

richie hadn't told you about his artefact because the guilt that came with it sat on his chest like a fucking dumbbell. guilt, because he hadn't told you something very, very important.

you were not his first love.

but eddie kaspbrak was.

and he was guilty. guilty because he had moved on and because he had hidden such a huge part of his life from you. you, who wasn't his first love, but would undoubtedly be his last.

you, who was the love of his life.

eddie had been the first person he'd ever felt any sort of love for. when they were young, before you, and eddie would obsessively straighten the collars of his hawaiian shirts and clean his glasses for him and put band-aids on cuts and scrapes and used curse words that rivalled his own. eddie was the only one to care about him when his parents didn't. richie loved him so, so much and it had awakened a part of him he'd been ashamed of ever since.

it had been a sort of relief when he had met you, really, because he could pass himself off to the world as a normal guy with a normal girlfriend and a normal life. normal.

and oh, how he would do anything for you.

the girl who swore like a fucking sailor and held him tight and got so stoned she couldn't walk while listening to the cure on her portable radio. you'd been his distraction, to begin with, but he found himself falling fast and hard for you.

it scared him, how much he loved you. he'd never fallen so hard. he'd never given so much of himself to another person, bearing his soul to you because you were the only person he wanted to see it.

he'd come to you for solace and comfort, and had ended up loving you so much that nothing else mattered to him. and the day he'd kissed you in the clubhouse was perhaps the best decision of his life. the towering tsunami that was his love for you, crashing over him in almost overwhelming waves, kept him going for two fucking decades.

there was a smaller wave, though, too. smaller, but potent, lapping at his ankles and reminding him that he was not, by any stretch of the imagination, as normal as he wanted to be. as normal as he willed himself to be. because... he loved you, but once upon a time, he had loved eddie kaspbrak. so much.

he had carved your initials onto the kissing bridge the same day he had kissed you for the first time, bigger, and far away from eddie's, as if it would erase what had used to be.

it couldn't erase it, of course. erase what was, and always would be, a part of him.

richie tozier was...

he was different.

and he couldn't, for the life of him, figure out why it had happened to him. he had always been told it was wrong.

wrong, wrong, wrong. run, you fucking fairy.

and he had run. so fucking far. even now, when his job was to be controversial, he couldn't fucking say it. he could think of nothing more controversial than being b...

than liking both.

i mean, he could, but after years of being told how fucking weird and perverted and wrong it was by people who didn't even know him, he expected a certain reaction. richie glanced over to his jacket hanging on the back of the door, where the arcade token sat in the pocket. well, fuck.

you stirred a few minutes later, looking up at him with sleepy eyes and a tired smile, and, in that moment, everything was okay.

he kissed you, then. softly. ever so softly and almost like he was afraid you would break.

"what was that for?" you asked after he pulled away, heat rushing to your cheeks.

"i just... love you. that's all." his voice was quiet. "im so fucking in love with you."

you didn't notice anything out of the ordinary until tears welled in his eyes, his lips shaking as he held something back.

"richie? what's-"

"marry me." richie whispered, wiping his eyes and leaning his forehead against yours.

"huh?"

"let's get married, baby."

"yeah. yeah, okay."

----

you had gone absolutely fucking mental when richie had been caught in the deadlights, his eyes clouding and his face devoid of any emotion. beverly had had to hold you back to stop you from going right after him, screaming for him at the top of your lungs because he was floating.

he was floating away and you were going to lose him to the jaws of hell.

"RICHIE!"

"stop!" bev had pleaded. "stop it, you can't do anything! he's too far up!"

you hated her for that. for just a split second, you hated her. and you were kicking and screaming and crying, hot tears sliding down your face faster than you were sure you could make them.

and before you knew what was up:

"BEEP BEEP, MOTHERFUCKER!"

eddie had yelled, launching the monster-killer right down Its fucking throat. and then richie was on the ground, disoriented and spluttering, and, bev, with a sigh of relief, let go of you. out of the corner of your eye, you saw It, struggling and vomiting what might have been actual lava but also looked strangely like blood. your mind cast back to richie and then you were by his side, shaking him awake.

"richie! fuck!" you were aware of just how loud you were sobbing, grabbing him and holding his head to your chest. "you fucking idiot, oh, fuck, i love you." and he was wrapping his shaking arms around you, panicking and probably crying because he had been caught in the deadlights and what the fuck.

"rich!" eddie was ecstatic, kneeling beside the two of you. "i did it, richie. i think i killed it, guys!"

"EDDIE, LOOK OUT!"

you didn't know what was going on, really, until a colossal, razor sharp claw dug itself into the rock where eddie had just fucking been.

and you were sure you'd never been more thankful for ben hanscom and his intuition.

"holy shit, eds." you just about shrieked.

"it's not dead!" richie was suddenly alert, dragging the three of you to your feet as pennywise crawled up from the ground, the spikes it had fallen on making a wet crunching sound as It tore itself off of them.

everything was happening so fucking fast, and you must have zoned out or something, because all of a sudden you were in the fucking air, torn away from a screaming richie. the sharp, jutting bones of it's long fingers dug into your torso as you were lifted, flailing.

"always the hardest to scare. always the fighter." pennywise all but giggled.

"you get the fuck off of her, right the fuck now." you knew what it sounded like when richie was trying to keep his cool, and right now, he was not doing a very good job.

"are you scared now?" It asked you, grinning from ear to ear. "are you scared, richie's girl?"

"FUCK OFF, YOU BIG DUMB ASSHOLE!" any attempt to kick and struggle was cut short by It's tightening fist, and the sharp ridges of It's fingers cutting into you.

oh, and, yeah, ouch, that was a cracked rib. fuck.

"you are." It growled. "i can smell you."

the losers on the ground stared up in frantic horror, flocking around richie and eddie.

"maybe i should take him, instead. your richie."

"YOU STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM!"

"i told you i'd get you, richie's girl."

it flicked a long, black tongue over its razor teeth.

"AND I TOLD YOU THAT IM NOT FUCKING AFRAID OF YOU, YOU STUPID CLOWN."

it's face dropped.

its eyes rolled back into its head.

it fucking smiled.

and then, as if you were a ragdoll it was tired of playing with, it tossed you aside.

richie heard it. the fucking sound. the crunch as your body collided with the jagged rocks at the other end of the sewer. he retched and heaved and his legs didn't seem to be working anymore.

he saw your body crumple, and the scream that erupted from his throat wasn't quite human.

---

"you need to wake up." richie held your hand in his own, the wires protruding from your wrist making him feel sick. "you gotta wake up, baby." the steady beep of your heart monitor was the only thing stopping him from going completely fucking insane. "cmon, we're getting married, so... so you gotta come back to me." richie ignored the bile rising in his throat at the sight of you with tubes and wires spilling from every part of you that wasn't cast in bandages. you looked so fucking broken. "we've already lost so much time... and we need to catch up." richie couldn't find it in himself to crack a joke. this was the first time he'd been really, truly happy since he was seventeen, and now it was all hanging in the balance.

richie had heard from bill the morbid account of your injuries. the doctor wasn't able to tell richie, directly, as he was going on a fucking rampage outside, throwing trash cans and yelling and such.

you'd almost died in the operating theatre twice, he had also heard from bill.

"sh-she had uh, bad in-internal b-b-bl-bleeding. they almost c-couldn't stop it."

but they had stopped it. and now you were here. you were alive. but you'd been out for a good three days, and every hour that passed, richie was less and less sure you'd wake up again.

beverly had had to coax richie into a bathroom to clean himself up, bringing him a clean outfit, because he flat out refused to go back to the inn and shower and change. he wouldn't leave you here. she allowed him to cry on her shoulder, and she knew that he only cried in front of you, which threw her, but she held him and let him cry until he couldn't anymore.

"mr tozier?" the nurse who came in regularly to change your feeding tube and medicine and such was stood by the door, clipboard in hand.

"yeah?" he croaked, not making a move to stand up.

"there's someone here to see you."

richie was sure it could have been the queen of fucking england, or freddie mercury risen from the grave, and he would have told them to fuck off.

"will you, uh, send them in?" richie requested. he hadn't left you for more than ten minutes the whole time you'd been admitted. "i don't wanna-"

"of course, mr tozier." said the nurse, nodding sympathetically and backing out of the room. the door clicked shut behind her.

moments later, richie heard a voice.

"sorry, but, who exactly are you?" said the voice. richie looked up from your hand, which he was still holding, by the way.

a smallish, mousy brown-haired man stood at the door, his hair slicked back with far too much wax that didn't do anything for his terribly receding hairline. "and why are you holding my wife's hand?"

ah. the husband. fuck.

"oh, yeah. right." richie didn't let go of you. "you must be, uhh... umm..."

"timothy. timothy milo." the man said with an air of superiority. richie would lay this guy the fuck out.

"oh, yeah, of course." he nodded, squeezing your fingers gently.

"forgive me," said timothy, pulling up a chair. "forgive me, but, my wife has been missing for almost a week, now, and i get a call saying she's here, in... in derry? is it? battered, and... and comatose."

richie had only known the guy for all of thirty seconds, but he'd knock out those perfect, sickeningly white teeth in a heartbeat. "yeah, there was... an accident-"

"and richie tozier, big-shot comedian from malibu, is holding her hand and looking like... his whole world has been torn down."

timothy was becoming increasingly irate, and richie found it more than a little bit funny. he raised his hands in defense.

"look, man-"

"i ask you again, tozier, who exactly are you? to her, i mean."

and richie had... no idea what to say. for once in his life. no sarcasm, no witty comebacks. nothing.

"well... i fucking love her, man." was all he could think.

and then, with a crunch, timothy milo's manicured fist collided with the side of richie's face.

---

you didn't remember much.

the only thing you could fathom was a faint beeping sound, and a warm, calloused hand on top of yours. you cracked one eye open (with great difficulty) and sighed in relief. it was him.

your richie. disheveled and distraught, but your richie, all the same.

"r-r-r-" your throat was so fucking dry. it hurt to speak. "rich..." was all you managed, your fingers twitching under his hand.

"holy fuck." the smile that lit up his face was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen. he had a rather large bruise on his left cheekbone, and his eyes were red and puffy, but he grinned so big and so bright that you could have burst into tears. "you're awake."

"and y-you're... beautiful." you croaked.

"woah, how hard did you hit your head?" he joked, sniffling, a tear slipping down his cheek. he kissed your hand, mindful of the tubes.

"that... that looks like... a punch, richie." you noted, eyeing the purple bruise that started on his cheekbone and ended below his eye.

"you should see the other guy." richie sniffed, a sad smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes. it hurt you.

"wh-who?"

"timothy fucking milo." richie scoffed, rolling his eyes in a manner that reminded you of stanley.

"he was... he was here?" your head fucking hurt.

"yeah. gone now. after i told him what was what. fucking asshole."

"wh-"

"another time, babe. you're not up for it."

and you knew he was right. you'd only properly processed about half of the words he'd said.

"i've been outta my fucking mind waiting for you to wake up, yknow. don't do that again." richie said, dragging his hands down his face and rolling his shoulders. his back hurt from sleeping here for just under four days, leaning over the cot and holding your hand.

"it wasn't... my fucking fault... you asshole... it was... oh my god. It."

"we won't dig that up now, huh?" richie interjected. "you rest up a little, i'll chat to you about boring shit, you'll perhaps give me a sympathy hand-job, and when you're a little less drugged up, we can talk about the heavy stuff."

"okay." your attempt at a nod was feeble as fuck. "and... sympathy hand-job?"

"yeah. for making me fight your husband and cry for three days. in no particular order." richie explained, as if it were obvious.

"do you want me to... pull your dick off with my medicine tubes?"

his eyes widened.

"no, ma'am."

"then... shut up." you whined, breathless. your chest burned and your side hurt and you didn't even want to talk about your legs.

"i need more drugs, trash-mouth." you groaned, and he leaned over you to press the red button to alert the nurses.

"believe it or not, you've said that to me before." richie snorted. "no chance of a hand-job, then?"

"beep beep, richie."

#it richie #adult richie #richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #it chapter 2 #it 2019 #losers club x reader

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night-rhea · 4 years

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MC House Challenge! ❤️💛💙💚

This is @kyril-hphm ‘s amazing idea! I wanted to do it daays days ago but... Some shit happens everyday right? And ı also wanted to try different style to draw hairs, ım sure one day ım gonna figure it out. (ı realized ı made their eyes color wrong...damn.)

So here ı am with my girls!

İts turn out a bit long, so ım putting this button here. İf you want to know girls better, just click it!

Gryffindor Night ❤️

She is LOUD. You think Slytherin Night is loud enough? Just wait to hear this Gryffindor's voice. Bill use her in the mornings when a few Gryffindor couldn’t wake up in the time. Also need a silent moment in the common room? Just ask her, ım pretty sure even Ravenclaw Tower can hear her "Shut the fuck up!"

Also yes, this Night is not shy about swearing. But she is mostly creating absurd swear sentences. "For the fuck sake Merula, ı dont give a fuck about your fucking power GO AWAY AND FUCK SOMEBODY ELSES EAR WİTH ALL YOUR SHİT" As you can guess, she is bff with Merula.

İf you cant hear her voice, there is 2 possible place she can be. Quidditch Pitch and detention.

She is playing as a Chaser and this is the one of the only way to shut her up. Like Rath, she let her skills speak for her. Even its just a practise, Night is always so focussed in game, sometimes her looks scaring Charlie away. She really loves Quidditch, this adrenaline. Oh and she loves the victory of course. That makes her second Skye. Poor poor Orion..

For the detention part, she is in there more than she is in her own dorm room. Unlike Slytherin Night, she is a fan of Tonks and Tulip's pranks and loves to mess with grumpy Filch. Also detention is not that bad. With Jae here, there is always a way to have fun. Charlie always says that one day Night and Jae's closeness will blow their towers up. Everyone is just waiting for this day. Even McG.

Lets talk about her relationship with Jacob. They were really close when they are little. Because of their last name's bad popularity (ım planning to explain this later), they didnt have any friend other than each other. When Jacob left home, she lost not just her brother but also her best friend too. (Lucky for her, in Hogwarts there will be Rowan)

She dyed her hair red right before coming Hogwarts. To show everyone how she is gonna be Gryffindor just like her brother. Also while everyone talking shit about Jacob, Night refused to believe her precious brother can do something bad like that.

giggles Wanna gossip about her? Like her best friend ,she has a big fat crush on Bill. You should see how she blush when Bill compliment her. She cant help it he is "too fucking cool"!

Night and Rowan spend so many nights to talking and fangirling about him. But after realizing that he see her as a sibling, not a lover, she was a little heartbroken and tried to date some other guys who is like him. She ended up single of course, because no one can be perfect like him.

İf you want chaos, Gryffindor Night is your girl!

Hufflepuff Night 💛

My favorite thing about this Night is her smile. İts so warm and full of love..I should admit she is the purest Night but she is too good for her own. This is the why she is entire Hufflepuff's little sister. Especially Diego's. But nor she or me can decide that he fancy her or just love her as a little sister. you know, because its Diego...

Not so suprisingly ,She loves to take care of her friends, just like Orj Night, but this girl is doing it more serious. She is the mom friend of their group. She is gonna make sure you eat all your meal and drink enough water. And if you didnt, well you need to deal with her. Also Night will remind you to take right books for your class if you two have same class. "Did you study for todays quiz? Oh why didnt you?! Come on ı can tutor you! We only got 11 minutes but nevermind that!" Dont worry she got you. Aand One more thing, she has best shoulder to cry. Im not kidding, she will hug you until you feel better and ı can guarentee you that her kind hug and angelic voice will help you calm down.

İn the other hand, Huff Night is not good at handling her own bad emotions. Her anxiety level is a little higher than other Night's.

She is not a "so different" person. İts her words not mine. Being Rhea makes her a little bit special of course but not in the good way. She is just average girl with a unlucky family, thats all. She loves her loved ones more than she loves herself, and always wish that she can be powerfull just to protect them. But sadly she dont believe she can, she is not like Merula. Not that brave or confident . Or Tonks. Not that talented. Or Penny. Not that pretty and popüler. Aah ah, this pure girl has a lot in her mind(or should ı say her heart?) but so shy to talk about them. Damn girl, go and talk about this to Rowan (While you still can...Can you imagine how she break after she cant save her best friend..?)

Enough, İts time to tell you happy thing about her life! She was very suprised and happy (but mostly suprised) when Merula ask Night to be her date. They started to date in fourth year. (Everyone thanked Night for making Merula more calm and tolerable. Night said that Merula dont need to be tolerated) Well they have their up and downs of course. Before Rakepick betray them, fifth year was pretty good (Night cried for her girlfriend when she learn about Merula's parent) but unfortunate thing that happened in buried vault, made their hearts to apart. Night still love her deeply and wishes she was powerfull enough to save her from Rakepick so they would still next to each other now.(I know ı said "happy thing". Thats why ı wont tell you that after Rowan's death Night thinks maybe its best if Merula far from her. No ı wont tell you that)

But dont worry about her! She is gonna smile no matter what because her smile can make someone else smile too! İf you love tea and cookie, please let her know your favorite cookie. Her mom sending her delicious Turkish tea and she will be happy to share with you!

Ravenclaw Night 💙

After Slytherin Night, Ravenclaw Night is my second favorite. I really love her general mood.

As you can see, she is the only Prefect Night. And there is simple reason for that, she is perfectionist. She didnt became Prefect because she wants to help others, she became one to make sure everything is right. All other Night helped their Rowan to be Prefect but Ravenclaw Night dont believe that other Ravenclaw's will listen Rowan. She herself is more suited, just like Chester. (She really respect Chester) But dont get me wrong, Night dont underestimated Rowan. She just believe Prefect should be more serious and Rowan's heart is so pure for that.

And unlike Hufflepuff Night, this girl have a lot faith in herself. When Night is doing something, she knows it will be perfect because she wont stop untill its perfect.

I should warn you about her, she loves to complain. "Damn ı have to do all work. Why cant you do anything right on your own? İt was easy, even for you. Go and do something else ım gonna finish this one. No stop wait dont do anything. Just. Go."

Just like this,she can easily tell "rude" words. Even if she didnt trying to be rude. She is just saying whats true! İts not her fault that truth is more bitter than lies. And sorry but truth has to be told. Even if someones heart can get hurt. Lies can make everything worse than a little heartbreak. İts like a poison that tastes good and late effecting. They should thank her for not poisoning them.

Her friends? She dont have a lot. Because of her rude attitude, a lot of people dont get near her often. Fine by her. She dont want "extras" anyways. Her little group of friends is enough for her. Also she have Rowan, right? Rowan is her true soulmate. This two girls can spent hours in library and this is their favorite hang out. Honestly all Night need is Rowan and some book, she can live without any other people, thanks. But she can admit Talbott and Badea are pretty good too. Especially Talbott. He is her second best friend, if she has to give it a number. (This two became friends a little too fast. They have so many similarities. Biggest one is "Fuck Peoples" motto. They even have a ugly t-shirt that saying that. Andre died when he saw it for the first time.)

I think her mom Selina is responsible for Night's reckless behaviour. She was already angry to Jacob for leaving her behind and being ignored by her only parent makes her..ıdk, like that? She tried so hard to make Selina to notice her daughter is still with her.Tried to make her portrait with her pastel pencils, tried to brush her long hair and dressed like a princess, tried to write " I love you" in her mirror. But little Night's little heart couldnt understand that pain of losing her son (just like how she lose her husband.) When she came to Hogwarts, she give up about her mom." İf a mother dont need to worry about her own child, then ı dont need to worry about anyone else too." But of course, she is not that heartless like she likes to think.

I think you can imagine that other students calls her names. Like "freak" or "selfish" or "egoist". She mostly just ignore them (because she dont believe they are worth to explain why she is not these name) and pretend like nothing had happened, Talbott and Rowan know she actually care and wants to be more "good". More "likeable". She is just making everyone uncomfortable when she walks in and she know it. But there is nothing she can do. İts in her blood. She is just like her mother.

I feel like ı talk too much about bad thing. İts time to tell moments when Ravenclaw Night smile. She dont have a normally smiley face but of course she smile. And you know what? İts mostly because of her boyfriend. This girl has a big soft spot for Barnaby. She literally melt every time he talk. İn the beggining she thinks he is just some stupid Slytherin and not worth lose any time but after being friends (which is a miracle) she can punch you in the face if you call him stupid. (Dont test about how hard she can punch.)

How the heck this boys heart can be this beautiful? Like, boy your parents nothing but shit to you how did you turn into biggest and cutest puppy in the world? And again, how did he love her? I mean, look at Night and look at Barnaby. They are so different and he can be with literally every witch in schooli and yet he is with Night. She dont know what she did to be this lucky but she is not planning to let him go. Just watch her.

(And ı dont know if she will notice you if you dont talk with her. She will talk with you politely at first, dont worry. Just try to not say something about her being bad prefect or something bad about her friends or boyfriend, you will be fine.)

Slytherin Night 💚

It's finally Original Night's turn to shine. How about starting with why she is most masculine looking Night?

İt was because of Selina. After Jacob left, he was the only thing Selina talk about. She talked about how she misses him playing violin, his eyes that he took from her husband, his gentle voice. Unlike Ravenclaw Night, this didnt make our Night angry. İt made her jealous. She decided that if she wants to make her mom happy, she should remind her Jacob. Maybe if she can do this, her mom would miss him less and smile more to Night. So she asked Selina to cut her hair like Jacob's.

While she growing, she tried to act like Jacob. She learned violin, wore his old clothes. She even answered when Selina called her "Jacob". And it worked. Selina started to smile more, started to talking with her more, even she cook special meals sometimes. Menu was always full with Jacob's favorites but it doesnt matter to Night. Her mom did it for her!

İn Hogwarts, she learned that she is nothing like Jacob. Hello, dissappointment. She was too loud, too energetic, too friendly. She learned that she can't be Jacob for her mom. At first, it freaked her out.

Thats why she didnt want to go Celestial Ball. Didnt want to wear dress and made her hair longer. (She did want. She just didnt let herself.) And when Andre and Rowan keep asking about,, Night finally tell them everything. You know what happened? Her two angel friends talked about hours how they love her in the way she is, how she dont need to be Jacob because its her own life and she deserved to be happy.

After a lot of hugs and crying, Night wore the dress that match her name, kept her hair short.

I made this too longer ı guess ( ı was planning not to tell about Slytherin Night...) but ı always wanted to explain why ı love her. İm proud of that she can make her peace with herself. Selina is still problem for her, and still will be problem in the future too but right now Night is free from the cage she made it herself. Of course sometimes her anxiety hit her and made her feel like she is all wrong but its not a something a few late night flying cant solve.

Am ı gonna make it longer because ı wanna talk about Night and Talbott relationship? No, there will be another time for that.

She is always open for more friends. Wanna play quidditch or make/ listen music or drink tea or cook something? Night will be happy to join you in literally everything.

#night rhea #hphm #hphm mc #hogwarts mystery #mc house challenge #Jacobs sibling

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docholligay · 4 years

Text

DEFINITELY AU TO MY UNIVERSE

This is based on the idea @rhiorhino came up with in her ask of having Pharah and Tracer live together after something happens to Emily and Mercy. I worked on this A LOT A LOT, so I hope you enjoy! its not at all perfect but I think it’s good! 3,300 words.

Tracer and Pharah had been opposites from the first day they had met, and while they had grown warm to each other, they certainly had not grown any more like each other. Tracer was impulsive and quick, going in with her whole self, a tiny firework of a human being, exploding and lighting the entire sky in one moment. Pharah was thoughtful and measured, tracing out the steps in her mind, a clear line from one to the other, carefully lighting each corner like a candle.

So it made a certain amount of sense that when Emily MacNair, who would have been Oxton, was murdered, Tracer immediately and quickly lost her mind. Emily had not even been laid to rest when Tracer skipped the country in pursuit of her murderer, and anyone who got in the way discovered that Tracer was sunshine, and the sun is more than capable of killing without mercy. They said she beat Widowmaker to death with the butt of her rifle. Tracer would only say that probably did happen, but truthfully she didn’t remember a thing. It was hard to argue against that point, when she returned to London and descended into what a physician had called “brief reactive psychosis.” It was difficult to charge her for the death of someone wanted dead or alive by several countries, in any case. Born under a lucky star.

It was four months after that, with Tracer finally more or less in touch with reality and functional, that Overwatch continued its disastrous year.

Perhaps it had been that there was no one to blame, no villain to pursue, that it was just one terrible moment. An accident. There had been the terrible accident, and Pharah had held Mercy, and Mercy had died, and that was all there was to it. Who could she hate? And so, perhaps it was these things, but perhaps it was that different quality to Pharah herself, that she did not explode into loud and keening grief.

She buried her wife, exactly according to her religious wishes, and calmly laid a hand on her coffin before it was laid into the grave. She went back home, and cleaned and folded and scrubbed the floor, lined up the shoes at the front door in a neat line, and went to bed. She went to work, and redid the filing cabinet, and wrote a detailed schedule on the board, and shined her shoes. She carefully settled Mercy’s affairs, and mostly remembered not to bring up a cup of coffee in the morning. And, repeat. Fareeha Amari was doing very well, by most standards.

Even Tracer, in that first month, as people told her how unwavering Pharah had been in all this, had grumbled “Right, because Fareeha’s bloody fucking perfect and don’t I know it.”

People had mostly stopped asking questions with concerned faces, three months later. Anyone looking at her would have seen how stable and steady she was.

“Bit worried about Fareeha.” Tracer had said, leaning against Winston as they watched TV in his living room.

Tracer had given up on living alone, sold her house to her cousin, and decided, simply, that she was going to live with Winston for the rest of her life. It was more than big enough for three, if it came to it, hope never leaving her even as she grieved, and it made the most sense to have herself there. She loved Winston, and he loved her, and Tracer was a bit frightened of her own recently-discovered fragility. He’d welcomed her happily.

“Did she say something?” He snuggled her in a little closer.

“No, and that’s part of it,” She sat up, gazing over the top of the TV back into her own mind, “she hasn’t snapped at me, or teased at me, in months. I spent all morning doing things I know drive her absolutely mad. It’s like she’s not even there, Win.”

Winston shifted uncomfortably. “She knows you’re--well--she’s trying to--”

Tracer sighed aggressively. “Win, it’s been months now. Not even on medication now, Doc’s really quite happy with me, and no one sniping at me did it in the first place. Don’t treat me like--”

“I’m sorry,” he touched her back softly, “I’m just,” he gave a sheepish laugh, “Myself, all the time.”

Tracer shook her head. “She comes in, same time every day, she puts away her papers, she cleans something, always, she tidies up my desk, as well, without a word, ‘ardly. She does her work, ‘as a three pound meal deal for lunch, same time every day,, works out, and I ‘appen to know she goes to the Tesco every night, same time every day, gets a ready meal, goes ‘ome, cleans and organizes something, again, eats it, and goes to bed.”

“Lena, how do you know that?”

She tossed her hands in the air. “I followed ‘er, obviously! Multiple times!”

“We have to get you a constructive hobby.”

“And she didn’t even notice I was bloody fucking following her. Fareeha.” Tracer gave a little frown and flopped back against Winston. ‘She’s ‘orribly depressed, Win. I know it.” she closed her eyes,

“I don’t want ‘er to live this way. Or not live, right? Or worse, I don’t want to wake up one morning and find,” her eyes popped back open, gesturing wildly, “Commander Fareeha Amari, precise and disciplined in every way, ‘as done a very precise and disciplined job of offing ‘erself.”

“You don’t think--”

“I do think!” She jumped back up again, a creature in constant emotion. “She’s so bloody logical, to the point of being stupid, and she’ll, “ Tracer drew her hand widely across the air, slipping into a terrible Egyptian accent, “find it most reasonable that I will never find happiness again, and my lack of passion makes me a liability, and so, I will make sure not to leave a mess.” She snapped her fingers and jumped toward Winston, eyes locked. “That COULD happen, Win, I can bloody well see it in me mind’s eye!”

“Lena--”

“Know what she bought at Tesco, Win? Bangers and mash, a ready meal from Tesco for one. Of bangers and mash.”

Winston put his hand on her back, and drew her into his shoulder. He said nothing. What was there to say? Tracer was right, of course, and he felt terrible not having noticed. But Pharah was so good at being stoic, at keeping herself straight, at convincing the world that she had always simply been this way, and he had forgotten how her speech had lost some of its formality, how she had laughed easier, how she had teased. How she had been happy.

It was easy to ignore Pharah’s coping, because it was not drinking too much, or getting into fights, or hallucinating, but her absolute sense of control and order that guided her through difficulty.

“Also, she isn’t eating enough,” Tracer shook her head, “She’s lost ‘alf stone, at least. Maybe more like a stone, really.”

“What should we do?” He said softly.

“Well,” she rocked back to sit on her heels, running a hand through her hair, “We ‘ave to ‘ave her come live ‘ere, with us. Break her out of it all, right?” She grinned. “Bunch of the sadsack bachelor types, that’s us. We can ‘elp ‘er, Win, I know we can.”

Winston had no idea how Tracer was going to get Pharah to agree to this. He wasn’t sure if she knew how she was going to. But Tracer believed she would, and she could, and that it itself made him believe.

____

It wasn’t nearly so hard as Tracer had thought it was going to be. It took only two weeks of wheedling and begging and claiming that she and Win couldn’t possibly afford the place without her, being everything that had happened. It would be a proper favor to them, if Pharah would come and live with them. Besides, wasn’t Pharah so good at all the things she wasn’t? She’d be so much more help to running the house than Tracer was, after all.

Pharah was scrubbing the office floor, as she did every single Thursday, when she finally broke. A person could only avoid Tracer’s attempts at something she truly wanted for so long.

“If you and Winston need money, I will give you money.” She did not look up at Tracer. Back and forth across the boards. Check carefully for a scratch the needs filling. RInse the brush. Repeat. “I have little need for extra income.”

Tracer sighed heavily. She kept trying to give Pharah a graceful way to accept, and Pharah kept throwing it back in her face. It was aggravating to keep inventing new disasters for her and Winston to be having, particularly given that they were doing quite well, all told.

She thought of the solution, and hated it just as quickly. Tracer had worked hard. The odds of any sort of relapse were exceedingly rare. She had just now gotten to the point where it seemed like people weren’t whispering about it behind her back at the greengrocers, that her reputation was beginning to shine up near to normal again. Life was full of bloody fucking sacrifice, wasn’t it?

She knelt in front of Pharah. “Fareeha.”

“What?” Rinse out the brush.

“Win’s taken care of me, so much, over and over and--” It stuck in her throat, and she hated every inch of it, “I worry I might be too much for ‘im, if it ‘appens again, and ‘e’ll try to do it ‘imself, all over again. You know how Win is, about these things, and I thought, if you were there, you could reason with ‘im. Day by day. Might be best to send me off, but ‘e won’t, but, you know ‘e trusts your judgment.”

Pharah looked up at Tracer. “I doubt I could convince Winston of this.”

Tracer’s fists balled at her side. Pharah had always said Tracer had a way of working a person’s last nerve, but she wasn’t giving herself enough credit.

“But,” Pharah continued, putting the brush in the bucket, “he is also unlikely to see an early sign. I would notice.”

Tracer smiled and nodded.

Sure you would, Fareeha, as my general early signs are jot off to Paris and kill someone, which I think Win might also pick up on, but all right.

She sighed. “I will rent the apartment, until you feel secure. I will also pay rent at Winston’s, to assist.”

On some other day, Tracer might have tried to tell Pharah that she could always buy another apartment, and it might be better for her to do that. But it was enough to know that Pharah would move out her things, even if every single box of Mercy’s scattered notes was going to the wide expanse of leftover warehouse they used as a storage unit in the back of Winston’s place. She had Emily’s things there as well, and was only beginning to realize she needed to begin to sort through them, so what could she possibly say?

“Thank you.” was what she chose.

_____

A new living arrangement is always difficult, even without the added difficulty of a person not realizing the are going through a certain amount of emotional trauma. Pharah had been living with she and Winston for six weeks now, and while they had managed to put her weight back on, and she had even managed a smile or two, Pharah still lived her life within the lines of her planner with rigidity and focus. She never looked up.

She never spoke Angela’s name.

Tracer began to spend the night in Pharah’s room, chatting to her about her day, asking questions that would almost certainly go unanswered. She had liked it, when she was struggling, and people had talked to her. Parvati had once recounted an entire night at the pub as a one woman play, and Tracer had managed to laugh, and so she knew there was some medicine in it. Whatever Pharah might think.

So Tracer threw herself against Pharah’s brick wall, and she fell down, and she got up again.

Until a Friday night on the sixth week. It was Shabbat, and Pharah had remembered it was Shabbat, because someone had greeted someone else in the grocery store as she got her three pound lunch. Tracer had noticed her quiet sternness, even more pronounced than usual, as they went through the store together, as they stopped for flowers, as someone had asked Tracer if she was planning to pop by the pub this week.

Pharah said nothing, but Tracer was undeterred.

“I do not entirely understand why you are in my room.” Pharah turned onto her side and shut her eyes. “Again.”

“I slept with me dad for something like two years after Mum died,” she scoffed and shook her head, “I know that sounds all sort of funny, least, the looks people ‘ave given me make me think so.

But it wasn’t--just ‘aving each other, right there, as we were scared to lose each other, and--and well, it felt a bit lonely, and a bit cold. ‘Ard to explain, but there was something very comforting in it.”

She laughed a little, chewing at the end of her nail. “Truth is, I only needed for so long, but somehow I knew ‘e needed it longer. To ‘ave me at ‘and, right? To know I’s safe? So I stayed there, a while longer.”

Tracer looked over to Pharah, whose back remained turned to her, silent and still in the dim glow of moonlight, outlining her shoulder like a headstone.

“We did mend, Dad and me.” Tracer shifted under her blanket. “Took time, but we did mend.”

Pharah lay staring at the wall, jaw set in a hard line, arm tucked firmly under the single pillow she used. She said nothing. There was nothing to say, just more of Tracer’s rambling in the darkness.

“There’s nothing in you that’s broken, Fareeha,” she said it with such confidence that for a moment, Pharah nearly believed it to be true, “rather, not forever. I know because there’s nothing that can be mended in me. There’ll be scars, of course, but,” she giggle and shrugged at the ceiling, “Isn’t as if you and don’t ‘ave plenty as it stands.”

“You do not understand.” Pharah’s voice came like a command in the night.

Tracer swallowed hard as the anger built up in her. Pharah was hurting and Pharah had a hard time with things, and Pharah did not mean to make it sound like the way she’d loved Emily wasn’t as strong, and she was going to pop Fareeha Amari in the face right FUCKING now.

And she sat up to do it.

But before she could, Pharah pushed herself up to her side. “You, maybe, will mend. You do not understand,” she turned to face Tracer, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, steam rising from a kettle, “because you are the sort of person people love. They remember you, they--they cherish seeing you, you make them laugh. You are the sort of person who has romances, a woman talks about you at brunch with her friends, and everyone says,” she began a very poor imitation of the East End, “well isn’t that Lena so very cheerful and what, right?”

There is--” They were nearly nose to nose to now, but Pharah had the floor, and Tracer sat quietly even as her brown eyes glowed with fire. “There is nothing of that, for me. That is for people like you!” She slapped the bed in frustration. “And you will never, ever understand me, because you are some...Turkish rug, or a carved chair, and people notice you in a room, and they love you! Plenty want you in their homes.”

Tracer moved to say something, but found the anger had left her, and she was filled instead with a deep and unyielding sorrow for all they had both lost, and all Pharah had learned she could lose. Tears slipped down her face, only to find Pharah’s had matched them.

Pharah tapped her chest.”I am--a broom. A filing cabinet. I am useful, and needed, and diligent. I am necessary, and valued. But I am not loved. Except by her.”

They sat in the terrible London quiet, the one that shouldn’t be real but had made itself known in the long, cold, sharp blades of that night. Both them looked down at the small expanse of cotton between them.

“I love you. Course I do.” Lena’s voice was soft, but it did not waver. Then, quick firework that she was, her head popped up and she grinned, “Fuck’s sake Fareeha, why do you think I lay in here next to you every night and tell you stories, me own ‘ealth?”

It was her sunshine, always her sunshine, that broke the darkness, and even Pharah had to offer a weak huff of what had to pass for laughter now.

“I’m scared, as well. I miss Em every single day. I wonder what might become of me, sounds a bit dramatic, but that’s how I think of it.” She rested a hand on Pharah’s knee, “You ain’t the only one with plenty to take on. We’re soldiers, right? It’s ‘ard. And me ‘aving me,” she touched the place where her CA rested, “and Ang, well, she did know me best, ‘ard to say if this friend of ‘ers will ‘ave a mind for it. Just--a bit of an ask, innit? For me, as well.”

Pharah put her hand on Tracer’s. “You will find love again. It is very hard to know you, and not love you a little.”

“Fareeha,” she waggled her eyebrows, “is this you proposing? Flattered I am, but--”

In one smooth movement, Pharah swept up the pillow and batted Tracer in the face with it. She fell to the mattress in a flurry of bubbling laughter, and Pharah was forced into a smile.

“Well,” Tracer’s voice was peppy as she folded her hands and grinned up at Pharah, “I think, that when you’re ready, there’ll be someone wonderful, you know Fareeha there are women who go just mad for closet organizational systems and all that, proper filing, I don’t think you’re ‘ard to match at all, and besides all that, Ang was never any of that, but she saw, well she saw what I see, in you.”

Pharah shook her head a moment, and waved it off almost out of habit.

Tracer caught her eye, made sure she saw the genuine truth and belief in it. “You ‘ave a good heart, and a more tender spirit than you let on. Ang always said so, even when I didn’t believe it, that everything you do is a kind of love. That you’re terribly loving. She saw that, in you. She--”

Pharah turned away and pinched the bridge of her nose, tripping over her words. “Let’s please not speak of her more. Tonight.”

“Course,” Tracer nodded, “Sometimes I can’t talk about Em, neither.” Tracer reached gently, carefully, and rubbed at Pharah’s shoulder. “You always ‘ave an ‘ome with me, and Win, ‘ere, if you want it. We love you, Fareeha. We love you ever so much.”

Knowing it was true, and knowing that it could not possibly repair the deep chasm in her heart, the one that cried her name when the wind blew, Fareeha Amari forgot herself, unmade, in an instant, every lesson she had taught herself about how to be in this world. She began to cry. No, to sob, choked breaths flashing the memory of Mercy’s broken body, her smile under their wedding chuppah, a thousand small touches and loving words falling on her like rain.

Tracer held her. Tracer held her, and whispered that it was all right, and that she wasn’t a filing cabinet, until they both fell asleep.

#april showers writing

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raendown · 7 years

Note

idk if u still do the 3 sentences fic or fic request at all but im feeling a lil down today and maybe ur fic can enlighten it! what if kakashi jr. find his parents are quarrelling and its like, a very huge fight?

Technically the three sentence prompts are done but what’s this about feeling down??? How dare the world???

*straps on writing hat*

I don’t know why I have a writing hat or why it has straps

Also I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t actually name him Kakashi Jr. just because it would get really confusing referring to them by the same name. Enjoy some really quick writing and I hope you feel better soon! Edit: You can also read it on AO3 now as well!

Takashi’s mom was kind of famous for having a temper, and a destructive one at that. The whole village was familiar with just how loud she could be when riled. So it wasn’t really the volume of his mom’s voice that was bothering him right now so much as what she was saying.

She’d been yelling at his dad for what felt like forever and, like he always did when confronted with this kind of blunt accusation, Takashi’s dad had shut down and was not responding. The young boy wasn’t even in the room but he could picture the Rokudaime Hokage standing utterly still, hands deep in his pockets and both eyes half lidded in a misleading expression of detachment. He could also picture his mother, Sakura, with her thunderous expression and her strong arms waving madly through the air while shecontinued to throw words like knives, seemingly uncaring of the wounds they inflicted.

And the worst part wasthat Takashi knew it was all his own fault. His dad wasn’t to blame yet he’d said nothing in his own defense. Takashi wasn’t sure if it was because Kakashi always said he would back him in anything he did in life or if it was just because he didn’t appreciate the way he was being spoken to and refused to engage. Either way the thirteen year old recognized the very serious dilemma in front of him: to tell or not to tell.

On the one hand, owning up to what he had done was the right thing to do and both of his parents had always taught him to do the right thing whenever possible. On the other hand he was terrified. His mother would turn her anger to him and most smart shinobi tried to avoid that exact situation; it had spelled death for many people before him. He shuddered to think of what she would do to him upon finding out what he had done. More terrifying, however, was the thought of her finding out some day that he had allowed his dad to take the fall for him and that decided it. He would have to tell.

Takashi gulped as he swung open the door to his room, feeling a little like he was marching to his death. He gathered every scrap of courage he had and placed one foot in front of the other, step by step, until he had reached the center of the storm that raged through their house.

Sakura looked as if she had run home straight from the hospital upon hearing the news. She was still wearing her Head Medic uniform and there was a small bloodstain on the hem, wrinkles on the arms, stress lines on her face. Across from her Kakashi looked as if he were pulling farther in to himself than Takashi had ever seen and it broke his heart to be a peripheral cause of that. He knew very well the hard life his dad had lived; he didn’t deserve any more unhappiness, no matter how fleeting.

“-still a child Kakashi, how could you!? Do you not care about his well-being? His life? Do you want him to be like you so badly? How dare you!”

“Mom?”

Sakura’s voice cut off at his quiet, pathetic call. The quiet in the absence of her words was like a ringing in his ears and he trembled under the weight of it. Kakashi seemed to slowly rise from a stupor, his eyes sliding over to rest on his son with a flat, dead look to them.

“Takashi,” Sakura grunted, “you can tell we’re in the middle of something. Now is not the time.”

“Mom, it’s important.”

He watched his mom lift a hand to rub the bridge of her nose. She sounded as if she were barely controlling herself as she asked, “What is it?”

“It’s…you shouldn’t be mad at dad.” Sakura looked at him sharply and he rushed through the rest of his words, knowing if he faltered then he would lose his courage and not say them at all. “You should be mad at me. It wasn’t dad who signed the form, it was me. I forged his name.”

He swallowed thickly, shaking and scared and refusing to cry as the ire built up again in Sakura’s face. Her fists clenched and un-clenched rhythmically.

“You forged his name?”

“Yes.”

“On a form stating that, in his opinion, your team was ready to take on a B-rank mission meant for seasoned chunin?”

“…yes.”

He’d known that Naruto-sama had asked his dad to help oversee the missions being handed out, to help assess each team and assign them appropriately. He’d also known exactly which genin was carrying the assessments and where they were filed. It had beeneasy for someone in the know to switch one of them out so that his team was noted as being highly skilled, ready for advanced missions.

It wasn’t the greatest plan he’d ever come up with, in hindsight, but it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

Sakura had already looked ready to start spewing steam from her ears when he had come in to the room. Now she seemed about to breathe fire. The full weight of the wrongness of what he had done came crashing down on Takashi like a doton burying him in an avalanche.

“Do you understand what could have happened!?” Sakura screeched. “Your team is not ready and there is a reason for those assessments! You could have died, Takashi! Your teammates could have died! Your jonin-sensei could have died trying to protect you! Do you want that on your conscience? Do you want your teammates to come home with scars and trauma? For every time you look at them to be reminded that it was your actions that led to those things?And all for what? To look cool!?”

Takashi was crying before she had gotten through her third sentence.

“And that’sjust the personal implications! You-you-look at yourfather Hatake Takashi. You look him in the eye and tell me what part of your genius plan seemed smart to you. To lay the blame for your stupidity at his feet.”

Sakura railed and ranted and by the end both she and her child were weeping messes of emotion. Of fear and anger and relief - such strong relief that nothing bad had happened. That he was alive and whole and safe to do something just as stupid on another day.

He hated to see his mother cry, to know that he had caused her pain, but Takashi stood still like the strong shinobi he wanted to be and let her storm wash over him. He had brought it on himself and he would take the consequences.

(He would never never do something this stupid again)

When it was over Takashi had been grounded for a month, had his video game privileges revoked, and been warned of the overwhelming list of chores he would be sentenced to attending to around the house for the foreseeable future. All in all, he felt almost as if he had gotten off lightly considering how serious the consequences could have been.

He shuffled back to his room when his mother stormed off to the forest behind their home to vent the rest of her emotions. He tried desperately to stem the flow of tears and nothing seemed to work until the door to his room creaked open to reveal his father standing there.

Kakashi looked nothing more than tired, exhausted, like shutting down had taken all of the energy from him and he wasn’t sure how to get it back. Takashi looked up at him helplessly, not knowing what to say.

“That was very brave,” his dad told him quietly. “Very brave of you to tell the truth knowing what would happen if you did.”

“I’m sorry, dad! I’m sorry!” Takashi burst in to tears all over again, burying his face in his hands. He felt like the scum of the earth.

He was surprised to find arms winding around his shoulders, pulling him in to his father’schest and letting him cry there like he had as a child with a scraped knee. Takashi sobbed, clinging to his dad’s shirt and burrowing in to his embrace. Nothing was safer than Kakashi’s arms and they had always held the power to make the world disappear no matter how old he got.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again after a long time had passed, when his weeping had become a steady slow trickle of tears. He felt Kakashi pet his hair soothingly.

“Yes, I know. And you should be.”

“Why didn’t you tell mom that it wasn’t you?” he asked. Incredibly, considering how little emotion he had seen in his father when he’d come in, Kakashi chuckled.

“Your mother has always been…spirited, I think I’ll call it. When she’s angry she’s not very willing to listen to reason. She knows that and she’s been trying to work on it for years. But this involved you and your safety. You are the single most precious thing in both of our lives. Loves makes us all irrational, but especially your mother. She needed to yell and scream. She needed to vent. I thought it would be best for her to get it out first, then when she had calmed down enough she might listen.” Kakashi pulled them apart a little to look in to his son’s eyes. “Better that she yells at me than you. I knew what her temper was like when I married her and I have accepted that part of her, ugly as it is.”

Takashi puffed up automatically. “Mom’s not ugly!”

“Her temper is,” Kakashi pointed out. “No one is perfect, Takashi. Every person you meet will have ugly parts but loving someone means that you accept their ugly parts as well as their beautiful ones. You don’t have to like it, only accept it. I love you very much but that doesn’t mean I have to like the fact that you are a giant squish-face knucklehead.”

“Daaaaaad!” Takashi scrunched up his nose. “I’m not five anymore! Quit calling me squish-face!”

“Never!” Kakashi turned his eyes up in a smile and even though he was still full of grief and terror and guilt and annoyance, Takashi smiled back, just a tiny bit happy.

“I love you too, dad,” he said. “And I’m really, really sorry.”

Kakashi’s eyes opened to give him a very long look. Takashi bore it in silence until finally his dad told him, “And I forgive you.”

And he felt like everything might be okay after all.

(When Sakura came home and he heard her whispering apologiesto her husband over and over, Takashi kept his ear pressedto the wall and made himself listen to every single word. His dad was right. Sakura’s temper was an ugly thing but that didn’t make her less of a beautiful person. He could only hope to be more like her some day.)

#replies #rae writes #i accidentally a thing again #:\#kakasaku #kakashi #sakura #oc babies #fanfiction #naruto shippuden

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scummy-writes · 7 years

Note

I made this request days ago, and I think tumblr ate it 😨 bisexual mc? Im not feeling very validated at the moment because of this...

∑(;°Д°)ᵒᵐᵍᵎᵎᵎ It did eat it!! I’m sorry about that. I wish tumblr could get the messaging system working right...

Before I get this HC started, I do want to say a few things. You mentioned you weren’t feeling validated due to you being bisexual? That’s what i’m assuming from how its worded.

I want you to know that It Is Okay. That’s a very cliche thing to say, but you matter and are valid. It took me years to find out I was bisexual, and I was scared at first.

You are not being ‘Greedy’, you are not being a ‘thief’. You are not ‘confused’. You are YOU. Don’t let others tell you how you are just due to your sexuality. You are not hurting anyone, you are not hurting the world. You are existing, and you have every single right!

We can’t control who we fall in love with. Just because it happens to be more than one gender does not make you a horrible person. It just means you’re able to open your heart in ways others can’t.

I’m always here to talk to you if you need it, anon! I love you, don’t feel so bad about yourself, okay?

Here’s how the crew would react! o(*^▽^*)o

Zen

-You were kind of scared to tell him. Sometimes guys could react badly, or in a gross way and immediately bring up the idea of threesomes.

-It was about a month after the RFA party that you told him. You didn’t know why, but you felt like you just needed to get it out in the open.

-You sat him down and took a deep breath, starting-stopping-starting again. God, you had admitted this to friends before! Why was this so hard?

-He noticed you tearing up, and he reached over and held your hand. He wanted to pull you to him and hug you, but he didn’t really know if this was some break-up moment (He Was Scared) or if something was wrong.

-”I...I just thought that, since it’s clear we’re going to be a couple, that i should...I should tell you that I’m bisexual.”

-Oh. Oh thank god. He was so scared you were going to break up with him. He even let out a shaky laugh until he saw the tears in your eyes. Bad move bad move!

-”Hey, heyheyhey.” Now he did finally pull you into a hug, his hands lightly rubbing up and down your spine. “I wasn’t laughing at you, I was just nervous, don’t worry.”

-”A-Are you okay with that?”

-”Okay? I’m more than okay, mc. It’s fine. I still love you just as much as before. You’d have to kill someone to get me to dislike you, and hell, that would just depend on the person, okay?”

-He cupped your face and kissed the corners of your eyes.

-”Bottom line, mc, is that I love you. I love you for you.”

Jaehee

-You really, really wanted to tell her this.

-You weren’t sure how it happened. You were just relaxing with her, drinking some nice decaf coffee she made while the two of you watched a DVD. She was letting you lean against her in a friendly cuddle.

-Maybe it was how relaxed you were? The coffee? How the temperature was just perfect and had you in an almost sleepy state?

-”Jaehee,” You started, holding your coffee lightly. “Would you still like me if I was bi?”

-Poor baby was so shocked by the sudden question. She sat up and immediately paused the movie.

-You, on the other hand, were shaking with how careless you brought it up. You clutched the coffee cup, too scared to move or else your jerky movements would cause it to spill all over you.

-”Mc? Why do you think I wouldn’t?”

-Oh god. You blinked back oncoming tears. “I. I don’t....Know. I’ve had a few friends leave after I-”

-Jaehee was having None of that. She hugged you tight, your back against her chest, and she put her cheek on top of your head.

-”Who you are isn’t going to change our relationship. I still love you.”

-Now you were actually crying. You really loved her too...You didn’t know if this was also a confession from her, since the two of you still hadn’t established what you...were? Yet.

-After a few moments, she loosened her grip.

-”Actually...Mc...I think I may be bisexual too.”

Jumin

-You were trying to give him tips on how the two of you could make your relationship better.

-Because, let’s face it, Jumin did manage to mess things up every now and then. He sometimes couldn’t gauge your emotions, and that led to some intense moments at times.

-But you two were working through it. You loved each other and wanted this to work. So, for some examples, you were talking about your exes.

-”He was a mess... I think the only decent relationship I had been in, before you, was with Sarah. I mean, obviously things didn’t work out between us, and I don’t want to get back together with her, but some things that helped my relationship with her was-”

-”Sarah? Mc, you’ve dated a woman before?”

-Instantly, you froze. You just got so in the zone of trying to be Relationship Counselor (with your own relationship for the first time, too), that you completely forgot you hadn’t brought this up with Jumin before.

-And you were scared. Out of all the people you knew, rich types seemed to be the worst when it came to Out Of The Norm things. Especially sexuality.

-”I...Yes. Yes, I have.”

-”Interesting.” He paused, and with each second you felt your eyes water up. “Mc, are you crying?”

-You nodded, trying to wipe the tears away. “Is. Is that okay? Are you mad?”

-”No. Why would I be mad?”

-He pulled your hands away from your face, looking intently at you. “Did you think I would dislike you for that?”

-”I-I don’t know. You paused for so long and I w-was just scared!”

-He pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

-”If it’s any consolation, I was thinking on if we could use that experience of yours to help me understand you more. I thought maybe your perspective on dating a woman would help me understand more on how...Women think? Does that sound sexist?”

-”You’re okay with me being bi?”

-He kissed your forehead. “I don’t see how it’s an issue. You’re in a relationship with me now. Your past relationships, regardless of the genders, don’t bother me. I love you.”

-He went on a bit about his earlier musings over if his statement was sexist or not, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You ended up burying your face against him, crying a bit as you were so thankful he didn’t toss you aside for being yourself.

Yoosung

-The two of you had been going out for a couple of months. Nothing hot and heavy, just cute, innocent, loving relationship for the moment.

-This was his first time dating seriously. He wanted to take things slow because he was too scared he’d mess it all up, and you respected that.

-So, a lot of the times, your dates did center around gaming. I mean, games are fun! And it’s fun just to cuddle up with someone and play too.

-This gaming session, the two of you were playing computer games. Him on his computer playing a special event for LOLOL, and you browsing your folder of indie games.

-You found one you were excited to play, but had forgotten about due to...Well...The RFA. It was a cute dating sim you found! You could even choose to be a girl while romancing other girls! Yess!

-You weren’t used to these games allowing that, so you plugged in your headphones, laid back on his bed, and gamed away.

-About an hour later, you were so focused on the game. You had almost filled up the first heart with this girl! She was so cute!

-Yoosung had finished the event, and looked at you so intent on your game. He smiled and walked over, leaning down and nuzzling your hair.

-”Whatcha playing?”

-”A dating game,” You mumbled, “I gotta get this date! She’ll tell me more about herself if I make this good!”

-”A dating game? And...You’re dating a girl?”

-”Yeah, she’s super cute! Look at her!”

-Wait wait wait wait. Reality finally caught up to you- You weren’t just talking to one of your friends who lived for these games, you were talking to Yoosung.

-You felt panic wash through you and you tensed.

-”You...Like girls?” He said it so confused, so unsure.

-”Uhm....Y-yeah. I mean, I’m in a relationship with you, s-so I’m not like. You know. Trying to...Get with a girl...Now...”

-”Ooh, okay. Is the game fun?”

-He said it so casually. What??

-”Yoosung, are you okay with me..Also liking girls?”

-He smiled and kissed your head. “Yeah! I don’t mind. One of my favorite characters from my games is bisexual! She kicks ass!”

-He slipped down to his knees, resting his head against the mattress as he angled to watch your computer screen better.

-”So, what’s her name? What do you have to do to get the dates to go right? Is it fully voiced?”

-God he just...Didn’t mind. You let out a shaky breath, trying to calm yourself down from the sudden rush of nerves.

-”Y-yeah! Here, let me pull up a summary...”

-You felt so, so fucking lucky to have found Yoosung. He literally could not be more amazing.

Seven

-He knew. Granted, not from you telling him, but from an old profile of yours he found when doing that background check on you.

-He didn’t bring it up, or teased you that he knew. He didn’t want to make you think it was bad, so he waited until you felt comfortable.

-But...

-”Hey, mc?”

-You looked up from the onion you were cutting for dinner (You were going to make this man eat something that wasn’t those damn chips god help you), feeling a bit confused with how serious he sounded. “Yeah?”

-”Would you still want to be with me even if I was bi?”

-You almost dropped your knife. “W-What??”

-Oops. He looked a little hurt. “Don’t freak out, I still love you-”

-”Nonononono!” You rushed out, putting the knife down and grabbing his hands. “No, no! It’s okay! It’s so okay! I was. I was just surprised. I’m like that too!”

-He gave you a big grin. “Yeah?”

-”Yeah! So I’m okay with it!!”

-”Good.” He pecked your forehead. “I’m okay with you being bi, too.”

-You couldn’t help yourself- You gave him a tight hug and giggled a bit. “I was wondering when to tell you myself...”

-He’d probably be the type to point out cute people with you. You two just going “Ooh, he’s cute. Oh wow, she looks so pretty!” together without being jealous. You two just appreciated how people looked at times!

♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ) Hey anon, did you know Jaehee and Seven are bisexual too? That might also help you!

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worthlesswordss · 7 years

Text

Getting Better Help

May 3, 2017

I’ve been struggling with my mental health (more than the norm) for the past few months and it surprised me how good I was at lying and hiding it from everybody (even though I’m trying to not do that so that people will know what the hell is going on with me - bad habit, I guess). There was this day when I was about to talk to my mom about how I was feeling and to be honest to her about the other stuff that I was intentionally hiding. I kept giving her hints but she’s not picking them up. So I finally bulked up the courage to tell her and I didn’t. I was about to tell her when she sidetracked me about being a responsible adult. I felt frustrated and just gave up on my motives of telling her, thinking she won’t believe me anyway because she’s stuck on her traditional ways.

Anyway, it’s not a secret that my parents are hard to talk to. I basically rant and cry about it almost every single damn day of my life. And I’m pretty sure I wrote a lot about that here in my worthless little blog. The harder part is actually talking to someone about it. When I was regularly going to therapy, everything felt lighter in a way and I think its because I had someone to talk to about it without biases or without taking it personally. Someone who just listened and gave her best objective advice or support or help because it’s her job to help me get better. But since I stopped going to that - and my parents approve of me not needing it anymore (they’re seriously damaging my mental health and emotional well-being) - it’s been hell for me these past months.

Yes. Months. The last time I went to therapy was last December 2016 before we left for our trip to San Francisco / Los Angeles. I actually thought I was getting better and now I understand how people rely and become dependent on the pills their psychiatrist gives. I haven’t slept a good night’s sleep in 4 months. My under eyes (eyebags) are sagging more and more everyday and I just feel more and more tired and sad and helpless when I go to work. It’s depressing! What has become of me?!

I’ve tried to contact my therapist so many times already and I can’t seem to get a hold of her... or her busy schedule. I haven’t seen my psychiatrist either. The last time I saw her, she said I had depression but she doesn’t know the severity. She said it’s getting worse - that’s what she’s sure of. And she also said I had mild social anxiety. And I might have depersonalization or something much worse than that. That’s the reason why she got me have my brain scanned and blood drawn - which she hasn’t seen the results of and neither have I.

It’s all so screwed up! I was getting help and getting better then I stopped and my parents support it. I DON’T! I AM STRUGGLING. WHY CAN’T ANYONE SEE THAT. And don’t get me started with the whole 13 Reasons Why Craze. *vomit* WHY IS IT SO HARD TO TELL MY PARENTS?! OH YEAH BECAUSE THEY WON’T BELIEVE NOR ACCEPT IT ANYWAY. THEY’LL THINK IM BEING OVER DRAMATIC OR “TOO SENSITIVE” OR BEING NEGATIVE. WELL PISS ON THAT MOM AND DAD!! YOU THINK I WANT TO FEEL THIS WAY!?! I DONT!!! THATS WHY I BEGGED YOU TO GET ME HELP IN THE FIRST PLACE!! BUT YOU PISSED ON THAT IDEA! AND I WAS ACTUALLY GETTING BETTER. BUT YOU PISSED ON IT! YOU DIDNT EVEN TRY! YOU DENIED! AND DENIED! AND DENIED! WELL LOOK AT ME NOW. IM A FREAKING WRECK. I AM SWALLOWING ALL THE PAIN I BURIED A LONG TIME AGO AND SPITTING IT OUT AGAIN AND EATING IT. OH? THATS DISGUSTING? WELL ITS DISGUSTING THAT YOU SAY YOU LOVE ME BUT DONT LOVE ME ENOUGH TO GET ME THE HELP I NEED! DO YOU EVEN LOVE ME AT ALL?! I DONT WANNA DIE, OKAY??! BUT THATS ALL THAT I THINK ABOUT!!! THATS ALL I WISH FOR MYSELF!!! THATS ALL THAT I THINK I NEED BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT DOING ANYTHING TO HELP ME RELEASE THE ALL THE PAIN AND SORROW AND DEATH THAT I FEEL INSIDE!!!

I don’t mean to yell or rant. I’m just tired and I’m trying to release all these things in my last resort - this blog. I know no one reads this except for me and a couple of strangers from the internet who just loves to read or maybe looking for comfort for their own problems or the haters who just want to bring people down until they actually commit suicide and say “I didn’t do anything. He/she killed themselves.” or “He/she shouldn’t have read the comments then.” or whatever stupid excuse they have. Yeah, I’m talking to you, you murderous bully. Deny it all you want but you’ve killed people. You kill people everyday.

Where am I going with this? What was the point of this post? Well, yesterday, I saw this ad on Facebook and clicked the link and researched about it. I read the whole entire site and reviews about it in other sites. It’s called BetterHelp. And if you’re anything like me or in just dire need of someone to talk to; you’ve probs seen this somewhere. It’s an online counseling service where you chat or video call some professional counselor/therapist and help you with your problems. It’s like 7 Cups of Tea or Blah Therapy, both I’ve tried before and disappointed me - one of the two made me suicidal so I don’t recommend.

So in BetterHelp, you have to register first - which I didn’t mind because it was free and it has this quick evaluation test or whatever to match you with a counselor (which I thought was really cool). After doing that, I had to wait 24 hours or less to get verified or matched with a counselor. So when I opened my email today, I was excited to finally talk to someone about all this baggage I’m carrying around.

But I got this message instead:

WAT.

ARE THEY SERIOUS?!

I’m so angry and frustrated and I wanna cry but also want to smash my head on a glass window and cut myself with the shards stuck to my head all over my body so that they will see how much I need their services.

THEY DENIED ME THE HELP THAT I NEED?! HOW DO THEY KNOW IF THEIR SERVICES WILL HELP ME OR NOT?! I HAVENT TRIED THEIR SERVICES!!! WHAT IF IT WORKS??? WHAT IF IT HELPS ME???

HOW DO YOU KNOW?????

WHY WOULD YOU DENY???

WHY WOULD YOU REFUSE???

I THOUGHT YOU MADE THE SITE SO IT WOULD HELP PEOPLE LIKE ME???!?! NOT DENY THEM OF THE HELP THEY NEED!

WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY??????????????

What now, you may ask. Well... there you go. 👇🏻

#amccdrama #depression #rant #betterhelp

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