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sunflowersandsapphires · 7 months

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Hi! Can I request something?

I would love some fluff with Frank with these prompts: thunderstorms, pillow forts and cuddling under a blanket

I hope it's okay that I picked three... I couldn't decide on just one :) Thank you 💕

Hello lovely! I made this a hurt/comfort/fluff fic. I hope that’s ok! I am so happy to give Frank all the gentle things. (Title based on Hold On by Michael Buble)

Stronger Here Together

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: Frank receives comfort after a nasty mission.

Warnings: swearing, implied depression, non-graphic descriptions of violence

w/c: 1.8k

Keeping his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, Frank desperately tried not to let the pounding raindrops drive him past his current stimulation threshold and into total insanity. This mission was the worst he’d had in a while, with the universe kindly throwing every possible worst case scenario at him despite his growing irritation.

First, the target zipped across state lines mere hours after he’d gotten set up in a vacant motel room, meaning he had to completely reevaluate his stakeout location and do a whole other recon session in a new area. Then, the bastard made the brilliant move of teaming up with a local sex trafficking ring to peddle the drugs he’d been selling all over the tristate area. Which, fine, Frank was always ready to rid the world of some fucking perverts but these particular perverts happened to be toting massive amounts of guns, which was why he now had 4 crudely sutured wounds aching across his torso.

Of course this was far from the end of his horrific three week endeavor. After nearly passing out from blood loss, the overwhelmingly understanding agents of the CIA and homeland decided to blame him for shit going south. And that meant he’d received earful after motherfucking earful from Madani about every little misstep he had apparently taken. All of this made up the shit sundae—top that with the pulsing aches from injuries and stiff muscles, the sheer exhaustion from the stress and intense lack of sleep, and the fact that he hadn’t seen you in 19 fucking days? Yah. Pissed didn’t even begin to describe his current mood.

He’d sent you a short, discrete text from his burner, just letting you know that he was coming home and where his mind was at. At the beginning of your relationship, he’d come back from an equally long, equally stressful trip and exploded on you when you tried to dote on him. Though he’d never admit it, he still has nightmares about the hurt in your eyes and the sound of your sobs after he screamed at you to leave him alone. He’d man up and talk about his feelings if it meant never seeing you that upset again.

Letting his mind wander, the tension in his body faded slightly as his thoughts drifted to images of you. His gorgeous, gentle, thoughtful girl who deserved so much better but refused to let him go. After that first rough experience, you’d learned to be less persistent with him, to treat him almost like a feral dog. Lay out some things and let him care for himself before coming to you.

And that is exactly what you were doing while Frank drove home to you—busying yourself with household chores as you tried to make the space as cozy as possible. Though you were a bit nervous about his reaction, you had a few tricks up your sleeve to cheer both of you up on this gloomy Sunday. Once the living room was set up, you finished wiping down the counters, lit a scented candle, and nestled into an armchair while you waited for your boyfriend to arrive.

After a 7 hour drive, and a mile long trek through the pelting rain from the one free parking spot he could find near your apartment, Frank was ready to collapse and block out the world for a week. The rough, soaked denim of his jacket was rubbing at his skin, making him downright miserable as he trudged the last few blocks to your place. Hauling himself up the stairs and in front of your door, he knocked once before resting his head against your door frame.

Opening your door, your sweet smile morphed into a concerned frown as you took in the stiff, sopping wet man before you.

“Oh Frankie, what happened?” Carefully pulling him into your apartment, you let him remove his boots while you snatched your softest towel from the linen closet. Handing over the cloth, you helped him strip off his drenched outer layers as he cleared his throat to speak.

“Couldn’t find a spot. Had to walk a bit.” His voice was more gravelly than usual after being silent for so long. You tutted in sympathy, taking the damp towel and clothes from him.

“Bet that was exactly what you wanted after the past few weeks. I’m sorry, honey. I’ll throw these in the wash. Did you want to shower?” You resisted the urge to pull him into a hug, not wanting to overwhelm him.

Frank nodded, scrubbing a hand over his face as he shuffled to the bathroom. Turning the shower on and removing the last of his saturated clothes, Frank sighed and rubbed at his strained eyes. Taking a moment to look around, his spirits lifted slightly as he realized you’d clearly prepared the space for him. The small tiled room was pristine and scrubbed of any debris, with a clean towel and fresh set of clothes hanging over a towel bar. Christ, he loved you.

The sounds of water bombarding ceramic walls soothed your nervous heart as you started your coffee maker. If you’d been the one to walk a mile in a torrential downpour, you’d be craving a hot drink and some soft fleece blankets when you got home. Thankfully, you already had the latter covered.

There was a small squeak from the bathroom as Frank turned the shower off, shuffling around behind the door before emerging in a tee and sweats. Nodding his head at you, he grunted. “Thanks for the clothes.”

“My pleasure, pumpkin. Make yourself comfy, I’ll have coffee ready in a bit.” Pulling two mugs from the cupboard, you bit back a smile as Frank turned and finally surveyed your hard work.

“The hell is that?”

You couldn’t stop the giggle that burst out of you at his grumpy confusion. “It’s a pillow fort!”

“A…pillow fort?” Frank scratched the back of his head, looking inquisitively at the structure you’d built.

Nodding eagerly, you came to stand next to him. “Yup. When I was little, my siblings and I would always make forts on rainy days. I haven’t done it in years, but I thought we could both use a pick me up today.” Shifting from foot to foot, you looked up at him through your long lashes. “If you don’t like it, or it’s too childish, I can put it all back and we can pretend it never happened.”

“Hey, no, you don’t need to do that, doll.” Frank wrapped his arms around your hesitant form, drawing you into his chest before kissing the top of your head. “I wasn’t expectin’ it, is all.”

“Would you like to sit with me? Or did you need some time alone?” Your words were slightly muffled by his muscular torso.

With a snort, Frank tilted your face towards his. “Fuck no. Spent enough time with myself the past few weeks.” Kissing you tenderly, he brushed a thumb over your cheek. “I’ve missed ya like hell, sweetheart.”

“God, I missed you too, Frankie. So much.”

Resting his forehead against yours, he pressed a kiss to your nose. “Why don’t you show me around the new setup?”

Giggling happily, you took one of his hands in two of yours and tugged him over to the towering stack of cushions. “Well this is the entrance, obviously.”

“Obviously.” Frank’s mouth twitched, feeling the dark cloud over his shoulders begin to fizzle away as you showed him the comfy nest you’d built.

“And, if you come inside…” You scrambled into the fabric cave on all fours, Frank followed in a more rigid manner, his aching joints not pleased about the new posture.

The structure you’d built was quite impressive. You’d utilized damn near every piece of furniture in the living room, but that meant it was tall enough for you both to sit up and sturdy enough to not collapse on top of you. There were strings of small lights hanging from the makeshift ceiling, and a pile of the softest blankets and pillows you owned waiting to be burrowed in. Everything about it was so unbelievably you that Frank could have cried.

“So…” Sitting back on your knees, you gazed at him with wide eyes. “What do you think?”

“It-it’s perfect, doll face.” He pushed past the crack in his voice, hoping you wouldn’t question it. “I love it.”

“Would you like to lay down?” You offered, pulling back the duvet at the base of the pile of blankets.

“Fuck yes.” Frank groaned, making you laugh.

Plopping down on the squishy surface, you made grabby hands at him, earning you a hearty chuckle before your broad-shouldered love crawled on top of you. He peppered your face with stubble-rough kisses as you squirmed beneath him.

“Frank!” You laughed, placing two fingers over his lips. “As much as I love your kisses, you should really lay down. I can see how much tension you’re holding.” You punctuated your murmur with a soft hand placed between his shoulder blades, fingers massaging the resolute knot beneath his skin.

With an appreciative groan, Frank’s chin dropped his chest, his body inadvertently sagging downward as it stopped resisting gravity. Towing him atop your own horizontal body, you gently positioned him so that you could continue to knead at his upper back while he melted into a puddle beneath your fingers.

Letting out a soft sound that was more moan than hum, Frank squashed his face against your neck. Kissing his forehead, your free hand came up to card through his damp hair.

“Better?” You teased, knowingly.

Nodding, your stoic boyfriend remained silent and pliable in your embrace.

Carefully pulling the blankets over the two of you, you grinned as Frank shuddered with a satisfied groan. The poor guy was practically falling asleep, head pillowed on your chest as you tugged at his hair gingerly. “Did you want something to eat or drink before passing out? I think the pot of coffee I started is about ready.”

“You made coffee?” The muscular lump of boyfriend that was splayed over you rumbled hopefully at the notion.

“Course I did. Wanted you to have something to drink when you got home. It’s decaf though, figured you’d also want to sleep.”

“Mmm love you.” Was the only response you received. With a giggle, you nudged Frank so that you could see his face, which had gone peacefully slack thanks to your ministrations.

“I love you too, pumpkin. Sleep first, or coffee first?”

“Sleep. ‘M tired as fuck.”

Chuckling, you pulled the blankets tighter around the two of you. “Sleep well, handsome. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle imagine #frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x female reader #frank castle angst #the punisher x reader #the punisher netflix #the punisher imagine #the punisher #jon bernthal #fc #my writing #leah answers

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veryace-ficrecs · 8 months

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Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano Fic Recs

I'm posting this today for @theadmiralbitch happy birthday!!! 🎂

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

a worthwhile endeavour by wrennette -Rated G

They were currently at nearly 36 hours since Obi-Wan last slept, which meant that tonight, they'd be breaking out the big guns. Ahsoka knew the routine by now, the major points practiced enough that she could improvise a little to keep her Master from catching on. Co-Commanders Tano and Cody have a plan.

Mall Rat Ahsoka by phoenixyfriend - Rated G

Ahsoka falls into the mall fountain, gets fished out by a security guard, and gets Obi-Wan to lie and claim he's her father to get out of trouble. It works.

Diplomacy by Phosphorescent - Rated G

Obi-Wan and Ahsoka's mission to Tatooine does not go according to plan. Anakin's really going to be sorry he missed this... “The Mighty Jabba has been looking for a new dancer ever since our last one… required replacement,” the droid said. It moved closer, head swiveling back and forth between the two Jedi. “You are a fit specimen. Please report to the tailor droid for a fitting of your dancing outfit.” Ahsoka had her lightsaber in hand and ignited practically before the droid had finished speaking.

The Thread That Binds Us by Did_you_see_the_light_in_my_heart - Rated G

Ahsoka is running out of time to get her formal robes for the Yearly Ball For All Sentient Beings and no matter how hard she tries, she can't seem to get Anakin's attention long enough to help her solve the problem. But maybe someone else can help her. “Tell me, my dear, what’s troubling you?” Master Kenobi asks. She lowers her fork and stops, swallowing hard. “I… I don’t have anything to wear for the ball,” she says quietly. Set early in Ahsokas apprenticeship. Relationships are still fresh.

Accepting Emotion by LazarusII - Rated G

Dealing with the stress and anxiety of being a prospective Padawan, Ahsoka Tano struggles to manage her emotions. Obi-Wan Kenobi finds her practicing in the dojo, confidence in tatters. His words make all the difference.

Chosen, not assigned by Lysore - Rated G

"It looks like our problems are solved. Fresh troops, new supplies, and perhaps they brought my new Padawan with them," Obi-Wan had said. Though there seemed to be a misunderstanding regarding the identity of the Master of said Padawan.

carried in your heart by grumpyhedgehogs - Rated G

“I am always with you.” Obi-Wan tells her. Her heart thumps painfully in her chest as her grandmaster rests his palm over it. The organ betrays her, beats away like it can crack her ribs apart and slip between them to leap into Obi-Wan’s chest and stay there with him, always. Slowly, tentatively, Ahsoka lets Obi-Wan guide her to rest her own palm over his heart. It pulses under her fingers, reminding Ahsoka at least one Jedi still lives on. “You are always with me.”

Negotiator's Garden by NyeLung - Rated G

The curious thing is that the clone troopers keep bringing Master Kenobi those cuttings, he accepts them gratefully and then he puts them in soil and waters them and they don't wither and die. They should wither and die. That Alderaani snow zherry cannot withstand hyperspace travel. That Kashyyyk begonia is carnivorous and what Master Kenobi has put into the soil as roots are actually the tentacles it uses to catch prey. The oneshot where Obi-Wan is most likely some kind of space fae, Ahsoka is a botany nerd and there's debatably sentient plants.

these battle scars (don't look like they're fading) by CallToMuster - Rated T

If there was one thing Ahsoka knew about her grandmaster, it was that he hated medical treatment and those who gave it. She just never knew why.

Waiting and Learning by otherhawk - Rated G

During a brief period of time when Ahsoka Tano is working with the 212th under Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ahsoka takes part in a mission to obtain separatist codes. Unfortunately the mission involves a lot of downtime without much entertainment as they wait for an ambush. Along the way Ahsoka gets to know her grandmaster better and makes some new friends.

#ahsoka tano #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano and obi wan kenobi #ahsoka fic rec #anakin skywalker #veryace recs #ao3 fic recs #fanfic recs #ao3 #star wars #star wars clone wars #star wars prequels #star wars fic recs

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aceofshitposts · 2 years

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happy follower milestone!!! <3

for a prompt… hmmm. jaytim, first time one (or both) of them said “i love you”?

i imagine what you were going for was something cute and i apologize deeply. warning for just hurt, baby!!!

It happens slowly at first.

Tim forgets his keys, his wallet, leaves paperwork behind in the office unsigned. It's not like him to forget things like that but he chalks it up to stress, over work, sleepless nights.

Except it only starts to get worse.

"Red, BG needs help at Main and Sixth."

Tim startles from where he was apparently just staring into space. He was... doing something. Surely. But now he can't... doesn't matter. Steph, Steph needs his help.

And he has every intention of going except...

"Jesus, Red, I needed you twenty minutes ago!"

"I..." Tim trails off, blinking back the confusion he feels in his head.

"Ugh, whatever, it's fine, I handled it but for real-" Batgirl cuts herself off, her lips settling into a thin frown and blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders. Blonde?

Did Babs dye her hair? No, that isn't Babs' outfit either... Stephanie. How could Tim forget Steph??

"I think something's wrong with me," Tim says, horror dawning like the sun over the horizon.

There's Poison Ivy pollen in his system. Predictably, Tim doesn't even remember fighting Ivy recently.

She also happens to be extremely MIA.

"You can stay here, until we work out a cure," Bruce says and Tim doesn't have it in him to say he doesn't even know where else he'd go.

There's less to remember at the manor but that doesn't mean things don't keep slipping away. Tim starts writing things down. Anything, everything he can think of. From his mother's hair colour to the patrol route he used to take as Robin.

(Used to...? He still... Wait...)

"Do you know who I am today?"

Tim looks up from where he's been studying old photos.

"Jason Peter Todd, second Robin, current kind of crime lord Red Hood," Tim recites, counting off points on his fingers. "You bring me coffee at work and on patrol, sometimes."

Jason sits down heavily on the bed, causing Tim to bounce. "That's certainly an improvement over yesterday."

"It comes and goes," Tim shrugs, feigning indifference. He goes back to the photos, trying to remember where and when he took them... Robinson Park, maybe?

"Hey," Jason says, pulling Tim in until he collapses against Jason's side. "I know it's scary, but B is gonna find you a cure, alright?"

It hits Tim, suddenly, what if they don't? What if Tim is like this, worse than this for the rest of his life. Tim will fade away, living on only in the memories of the people he loved, and some blank slate will take his place.

It becomes suddenly important Jason knows. Knows exactly what Tim thinks, has thought, about him for years now. He can't let Jason think something of him that isn't true.

"Jay," Tim says, the urgency building like a coiled spring. "Even if I forget, you can't, okay? I love you so much."

Jason presses his face into Tim's hair. "I won't, Babybird. Promise."

Tim blinks.

"Promise what?"

#THEY DO CURE TIM i wouldn't do that to you guys not really but #sometimes the hurt part is the most interesting part LMAO #jaytim #250 follower special #astrix writes #i'm so fucking sorry lmao #also if u wanna really wrench the knife this is only what tim thinks is the first time ;)

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smileyside-up · 1 year

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Last dday of classes before Christmas break but I got obsessed with a book too early and now I can't focus so here are my thoughts

UUFHFBFBHDHD I LOVE ROTSGE SO MUCH THIS IS MAKING ME FEEL LIKE A CHILD AGAIN BUT GODDAMN INSTEAD OF BEING HAPPY BECAUSE I'M READING SOMETHING PRECIOUS TO MY CHILDHOOD I'M SO STRESSED BECAUSE IT CHANGES EVERYTHING WE KNOW ABOUT THE BROTHERS AND I DONT HAVE ANY FRIENDS THAT HAVE READ THIS BOOK SERIES SO HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO COPE

Okay drank some water to calm down going lowercase now

(Bullet points cuase idk how to string these in a coherent paragraph)

ji0PARALLELS. I though the parallel between Soph + Aggie and Raf + Rhi was that there's like one evil, one good, and that they're siblings and they're like leaders of their schools kinda? (Agatha being Camelots queen and Sophie being evil's dean) BUT NOO THE FACT THAT THEY WERE SWITCHED?? I MEAN NOW THAT I THINK ABOUT IT IT WAS A VERY GOOD POSSIBILITY BUT IDK MAN I NEED TO REREAD THE MAIN SERIES

RHIAN NEED S TO BE PUT IN THE DOOM ROOM FOR BEING A GULLIBLE GAY WHORE LIKE BRO EVERYTIME HE MEETS A REMOTELY PIRATE-LOOKING PERSON AND SWOONS I JUST WANT OT SERIOUSLY SHOVE THE STORIAN UP HIS ASS BUT I WOULDN'T BE SUPRISED IF HIS HOE ASS WOULD LIKE THAT

I dont actually think hook was that bad tbh, I feel like he was JUST about to find that he was evil and when he had a piece of Rafal's sorcerer soul he developed a taste for it and realized he was evil early etc etc and he thought to use that power to defeat pan but the magic fades over time because it's just a piece so he went for his gullible ass brother(btw that was the shittiest and most obvious manipulation tactic I have ever seen but it worked on rhian somehow)

ALSO I almost said "wait if Rafal was the good one why was his soul frosty and cold and... evil??" it wasn't. he was just salty and determined to the mission at hand and Raf feels like the type to internally shut down emotionally when he's upset so yeah that explains the coldness

Vulcan is THE walking "ick" like this mf really thought calling Rhian "duckling" was seductive enough to get him to betray his brother(it worked for a split second though)

THE POSEUR THEORY (it isn't officially called the poseur theory but it's my name for it). the theory that main series Rafal is actually Rhian is absolutely. just holy shit. THERE IS SO MUCH EVIDENCE TO BACK IT UP. My personal addition is when Vulcan was first introduced I was like "OHHH lolz the brothers have a type for stylish villains" BUT NOW, I THINK ONLY ONE HAS A TYPE. Also I don't know what would be worse, if the theory is true, or Rafal went through some shit and went mad over the hundred years after he's killed his brother and in some sick twisted coping mechanism he becomes him/unwillingly became like him personality wise.

THE FACT THAT THERE ARE 2 FICS ON THIS BOOK ON AO3(NOT COUNTING THE ONE INCEST FIC) LIKE COME ONNNN GUYS PLEAAE GIVE ME CHARACTER STUDIES!! POST-BOOK THEORY FICS!! FUCK I'LL EVEN TAKE OMEGAVERSE SMUT IF IT MEANS CONTENT

WE NEVER GOT TO SEE ALADDIN MAKE A TRUE FRIEND AND IM MAD

I should have made a "gay" counter while reading

MAIN SERIES RAFAL(?) DEFINITELY SAW HIMSELF AND HIS BROTHER IN AGATHA AND SOPHIE AND THAT'S WHY HE MEDDLED IN THEIR TALE SO MUCH EVEN THOUGH YOU WOULD THINK THAT HE'D HAVE LEANRED HIS LESSON NOT TO MEDDLE IN THE FAIRYTALES

Justice for Rafal if the Poseur theory is true his name has been dragged through the mud so much because of his stupid ass brother and justice even if it isn't STILL because of his stupid ass brother

Thats it for now but I'll be back

#ROTSGE #rise of the school for good and evil #rafal mistral #rhian mistral #sge spoilers #sge #the school for good and evil #new drinking game: read ROTSGE and take a shot every time you want to strangle Rhian #actually nevermind that's a new suicide method

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har-rison-s · 2 years

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your good will: 34

never too much

a/n: hi guys. an update. this is the latest chapter i've written, and i wanted to publish it now so it'll be something for a while. because...... my diploma work is gonna take me the next week or more to finish, and it's A LOT of work. i'm exhausted and stressed out of my mind already, but i can do it, so i have to sacrifice writing and other things for just a short while, and then i'll be back. so have this while i'm gone for a bit. what do you guys think about argyle? i honestly can't wait to write him into this story as a side character, he's soooo fun and i feel like maggie would have fun with him, too (no cheating, i promise). so happy reading!

masterlist

series masterlist

stranger things masterlist

previous part next part

word count: 6.7k

warnings: none, really, maybe hints of anxiety towards the end

gif credit goes to owner! and yes i love steve in the yellow sweatshirt ashfdgsdjhkjds

It seems each night is easier than the last, for both Maggie and Steve.

Sleeping together has made their slumber heavier, and Steve hasn't had a nightmare since that first night Maggie stayed over, which he counts as a big success when he wakes up calmly and realizes his dreams were nothing but pleasant. He blinks his eyes open and rubs his face over with his hands, a way of waking himself up faster. He knows he's got a sort-of a busy day ahead of him, and he knows himself and his ways of sleeping in late very well, so he knows he has to get up as early as possible.

The clock on his nightstand tells him it's just a few minutes past nine am, and Steve is pretty pleased with that. He turns back around in the bed to still lay in it just a little longer, and he finds Maggie waking up, too. Wordlessly, he withdraws his arm from underneath her to let her have the regular morning stretch, knowing her well enough to be able to tell when and how she does it. He just lays next to her and looks out the window while she stretches, wondering how she feels today.

Maggie turns to lay on her stomach by Steve's side, and she greets him with a gentle smile, her fingers picking at each other afterwards. Her eyes seem more serious than usually, so something must be on her mind. “Hey there,” Steve tells her and moves his body slightly over onto its side so he'd have a closer look at her, “penny for your thoughts?” He asks as he continues to study her serious face.

She gives Steve a shrug at first. “Nothing interesting, really,” she says, but Steve can tell it's not true. Well, to her, maybe, but to him - every thought of hers is interesting.

“Come on,” he pokes her leg slightly with his own, “you can tell me anything. And you always have something interesting on your mind, anyway.” Steve says and tilts his head. That compliment makes Maggie smile.

“Alright,” she says, “I was just thinking of uh, the last… normal day, so it seems, before all of this. I'd visited Hop during the day,” Maggie admits and lays her head back on the pillow it was previously resting on. She sighs deeply, staring at the headboard in front of her, “and then you and I went to Lovers' Lake, remember?” She looks to Steve, and he nods. A soft smile tugs at Maggie's lips. “I told you I was already missing that day, and for good reason. That was literally the last day before shit hit the fan again.” She sighs heavier. “I brought Hop lunch to work, and… we had made plans to, uh…” she makes a chuckle, “I was gonna teach him how to make pasta carbonara at the cabin.” Maggie smiles, but an absent look paints across her face. Steve nods, listening intently. “We were supposed to do it last saturday, I think. Couldn't have been this Saturday because of LiveAid, so… last Saturday.” Her smile fades. “It just hurts, you know?” Maggie looks to Steve with the hope for understanding from him. And there's plenty of that.

“Yeah, I can imagine,” he tells her quietly, “you know you can talk to me about him, right?”

Maggie gives him a nod. But at the thought of Steve and Hopper, she has another chuckle. “He never really liked you, you know?” She tells Steve, and he raises his eyebrows. “I didn't even realize I never told you that, but it wouldn't have made a difference.” She breathes a light chuckle.

Steve shakes his head, confused. “Wouldn't have made a difference? He's like a father to you, Mags, he was a very important man to be liked by.” Steve makes a point, and Maggie chuckles whole-heartedly now. “Why didn't he like me?”

Maggie shrugs. “I don't know, really,” she says, “maybe not you exactly, but just… disliked the fact that you were with me.” She looks at him again. “He's very protective of his kids, and the women around him. I was like a daughter to him, as well, just like El was.” She looks down at her hands. “Maybe he just doesn't like his girls having boyfriends. He didn't like Mike very much, either.”

“Oh?” Steve raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Interesting. But yeah, sounds about right. No father is happy to let his daughter go off with a boy, or a man–whatever.” Steve shrugs, and Maggie gives him a sneaky glance.

“Hey,” she calls out to him, and Steve looks at her, “thought we'd established yesterday that we both deserve each other.” Maggie says, and Steve shakes his head with a laugh in response.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Look,” Maggie scoots closer to Steve, “Hopper is important to me, always will be. And as much as his opinion is important to me, as long as I'm happy with you, I won't take his or anyone else's grumpiness about us to heart.” She assures him. “Okay?”

Steve's face cracks into a grin. “And you are happy with me?” He makes sure, and Maggie just gives him a sure nod without hesitance.

“I'd tell you if I wasn't,” she says and cuddles into his side. Steve lays his arm lazily across her form, “you make me the happiest girl in the world, Steve.” That makes the boy smile.

“I'm glad to have that honor,” he tells her and lays a kiss in her hair, “Hopper's a complicated guy. Very intimidating, too. Those times when I was over at your house on the birthday parties, and he was there, too, I was mostly scared to talk to him.”

Maggie groans with a shake of her head. “Ugh, you're just like him, Steve!” She says and laughs. “What is with this prejudice and weird opinions of each other, I don't get it…” she lays with her back facing Steve now. “You men.” That makes Steve burst out laughing, even though the words kinda hurt his pride. “Always have to over-complicate everything with these weird things…” Maggie sighs. “You're also a complicated guy.”

“Wh–how am I a complicated guy?” He's in disbelief, and Maggie shakes her head. She turns back around to face him.

“How are you not,” she tells him, “your feelings and how you express them and don't express them–that is all very complicated. You think you shouldn't feel this or that, when it's completely human to feel every single thing under the sun! You'll just… make everything more complicated if you don't express exactly what you feel in the most fitting way possible.” She turns to lay on her back. “And then you assume you shouldn't show certain things when I'm around, and you have a complicated relationship with your parents, you know… all of that.” She mumbles.

Maggie knows Steve's watching her with a goofy grin all the while. She also knows that he loves it when she's feisty or very passionate like this, worked-up maybe. He's told her a couple times, because that's exactly how rarely he gets to see her like that - just a couple times. She's not one to stand up for herself, she'd rather just ignore any blow or bite towards herself from others rather than stand up and say something in return. So when she does get a little pissed off, worked-up or just feisty, it's a sweet sight for Steve.

Right now, she just tries to ignore that grin and look of his, but it's not working. Even though she's looking away, she can't help but smile, and Steve sees that, too. He knows he's irresistible, and that its extent sometimes really annoys her. So when he leans down to lay a kiss on her cheek or wherever else, Maggie is quick to shake her head and sit up in their bed. “Come on, we have to shower so you can take me home,” she tells him and stands up on her two feet on the carpeted floor. But Steve doesn't move for the next few moments, he just watches her walk across his bedroom to his bathroom, nothing but underwear and his shirt clothing her body. When she notices he hasn't got up yet, she pauses by the bathroom door and looks over her shoulder at him.

Steve pouts. “Don't want you to leave so soon,” he tells her. Maggie shakes her head and chuckles. This man…

“We'll see each other on Saturday, Steven,” she says and uses that nickname for him she knows he hates. And it shows now. His playful expression dropping immediately makes Maggie, in turn, giggle harder. Steve hurriedly gets the covers off of him, and then he's in a full sprint towards Maggie. A smile stretches his serious features even now, as he makes to tackle her down for that nickname as payback.

And so the both of them fall to the floor of the dark bathroom, limbs entangled together, laughing like hell, laughing until their stomachs and even bruises hurt. And Steve's tickling her, as well, not letting her rest, only aiming to annoy her more but to make her laugh while he annoys her. That plan is going well so far. “Don't,” Steve says between tickles and both of their laughs, “call me that.” He says, but Maggie only laughs even harder.

“St–stop, stop!” She protests against his tickling mania, but Steve doesn't let. Only after a few minutes does he stop, and Maggie feels like she can breathe again. God, he makes her breathless in more ways than one. She sighs heavily as she looks up at Steve, her hand running through her own hair. “Won't do it again, I promise.” She tells him, though the grin on her lips promises otherwise. Steve shakes his head at that.

“You tease,” he tells her. Maggie only sticks her tongue out in response, giggling like crazy afterwards.

“I'll be all yours Saturday night, I promise,” she says, “that I can promise. After everyone leaves.” Maggie sends Steve a wink, and that makes him raise his eyebrows slightly. They'd agreed to that already, but just a reminder of it makes him pleasantly surprised. He leans back so he'd be sitting beside Maggie now, and she gets to see his toned, bare chest in all its glory above her. Her teeth sink into her lower lip as she looks him over, and her hands fidget slightly as she somehow feels nervous again, as if it was her first time seeing him without a shirt. She remembers that time very well.

Steve grins. “Like what you see?” He asks, one hand on his thigh and the other running through his mess of hair. Maggie nods, and now is Steve's turn to make a teasing grin. “Let's shower, then. Fun's over.” He says and helps her stand up. Maggie chuckles.

“That's definitely the opposite of fun stopping.” She says. “With you especially.” That comment earns her a kiss on the head from Steve, to which she can hardly respond to because next thing she knows is he's pulling that shirt of his she wore to bed up and over her head. Once they're face to face again, Steve gives her a loopy grin, and Maggie giggles at that expression. She's so in love with him. Anything he does amuses her.

“Love you, you know that?” He softly asks before they rid themselves of their underwear. Maggie laughs. Of course she knows that. She's reminded of the fact all the time when she's with Steve. When he helps her undress before the shower, when he turns on the hot water for them both, when he holds her close to him as they stand in the shower. And the way with which he looks at her. And how he always has the thought to be affectionate with her, at all times. His constant touches anywhere, wherever he can reach–it's his love language. All the gestures, and the thoughts behind them. They're proof of his love for her, and so many more things are, too, and Maggie adores them. Just like she adores him.

After their shower, the pair of them get down to the kitchen to make some breakfast. They find the kitchen in slight disarray from the past few days, and though Steve makes a point that he'll clean everything up, both of them are too famished at the moment to think about cleaning. After they're done eating, however, Maggie insists on helping him pull the house together.

Steve shakes his head. “It's my house, and I'll clean it,” he tells her, a dish sponge already in hand, “I do know how to clean, you know.” He reminds her jokingly, a pointed index finger in the air.

Maggie sighs with a slight smile on her face. “I know you do,” she answers, “it's just that I've been here, too, and it's my mess, too. Kinda.” She shrugs. Steve turns back around to face her, his hips leaned against the counter that his hands are gripping.

“You're my guest, baby, okay?” He says. “I don't mind, I never do. You gotta let me do something for you once in a while, too, you know?” Steve points out with a sheepish grin and turns back around to continue doing the dishes.

Those words sit on Maggie's mind. They're similar to those her mom told her a few days ago. That actually seems like eternity ago, but it's just been a few days. A few days since Maggie called Steve, a few days since she and her mom had their long conversations about everything. She told Maggie something about… letting people take care of her for a change.

But it is in her nature to take care of everyone around her. It's a crucial part of her dna, and she can't shake it as easily as people would want her to. She wants to help, wants to take care, wants to tend to everyone, whoever they are. It's some sort of motherly instinct she can't quite explain the roots of. But Maggie knows that Steve and her mother are both right. She does need to take a day off sometimes. The world's not gonna fall apart if she doesn't lend a helping hand for a day or two.

So she says, “okay,” and leaves the kitchen to get her clothes and other little things from Steve's room together. While she does that, the tune from one of the songs in Back to the Future playing on repeat in her head so much so that she starts humming it, Maggie lingers on this packing process. She picks her clothes up one by one and folds them to stuff them into her bag. And she realizes that it's what she'll be doing very soon. Not just packing away these few clothes, but packing away everything she owns.

She stalls a little in her way, just for a few seconds, while she really takes that in. Her eyes blink slowly. She doesn't know how soon yet, but in some time this is all she will be doing. Packing her clothes, her books, her photo albums, her type-writer, her records. Wrapping some things in bubble wrap, putting them into bags and boxes and marking them as fragile and not fragile, marking them with a color for the room they'll be going in. She'll probably have to help El and Will with their stuff, as well. Though mom will probably volunteer for that position, too. And something tells Maggie that Steve could, too.

It's probably gonna be hard on him. As it will be on all of them. Those four walls in her room, and all the other walls and corners in their house here, in Hawkins, is the place Maggie has called home her entire life up until now. Though, truth be told, she'll probably still call it home, and picture it absent-mindedly when she thinks or speaks the word 'home'. How can she ever truly leave that place? And how can they give a house full of memories, childhoods and adventures to complete strangers?

Maggie will have new routes from home to school in the new town or city. Maybe she'll even have new woods to explore. It would sound a lot more appealing and exciting to her if it wasn't for the grim side of the situation. New things and places and people to discover is exciting, but… she's attached to Hawkins. Very much attached. And not just geographically.

She holds the last article of clothing to be packed to her chest and gives Steve's bedroom a look-over. These dark blue walls and this carpeted floor. That king-sized bed, clothes thrown around carelessly and some scarce posters on the walls. Pictures on the nightstand. She'll not be seeing these four walls for some time, too. Her chest makes a heavy sigh as a pout grows on her lips. Looking at each corner and spot in the room, different memories spark up like drops of color in clear water. Laughter, focus, teasing, intimacy, earnestness, closeness, freedom. All of those things were felt here, were experienced here, in many different ways. Such fond memories have been made here.

How will she be able to look at a completely new room, a new house, and feel nothing? Nothing but dread, sadness, and maybe even remorse. Move to a stale new house that's completely estranged to Maggie and her family, a foreign ground. It will be weird, to say the least. But maybe good memories will be made there, too. Eventually…

The radio is playing at medium volume as Steve sits behind the steering wheel and Maggie stares at the road ahead in the passenger seat beside him. Her eyes blank and tired, mind and heart filled with thoughts, conclusions, wonderings. She sighs quietly. Steve looks over at her for just a moment, knowing how important it is to keep his eyes on the road in this particular part of town.

“Hey, I was thinking,” he starts to say, and glances over at Maggie once again, to see if she's coherent and present, in a way. She turns her head to look at him, and her eyes hold nothing but wet and deep sadness, “maybe I could come over for dinner after that Gremlins screening,” Steve suggests. He knows Gremlins and the thought of watching it again will cheer her up. He raises his eyebrows for slight effect.

Maggie nods subtly. “Sure,” she agrees, “if it's not gonna be screening too late.” She makes a pause of silence, thinking the offer over. “Do you remember the date?” She looks up at Steve from her hands.

“Um…” he squints his eyes in the sun as he tries to remember, “it was nearly a whole week that they were showing it. From… next Wednesday to Saturday.” Steve says and gives Maggie a confirming nod. “Not a week, but…”

Maggie makes a gentle smile. “I got it,” she says and turns her eyes back to the road, “well…” she sighs heavily, “we could do Thursday, maybe, a week from now? I'll have to ask mom.”

“Thursday? Hmm,” Steve says and raises his left hand as if to look at a wristwatch. Maggie furrows her eyebrows, “Thursday might not be very good for me, actually. I have… nothing at 10am, nothing at 2pm, and then another nothing from 4 to 9pm that day.” He looks over to slightly-amused Maggie with a scrunched-up nose, putting on his best performance of disappointment. She giggles, her cheeks blushing up, immediately making Steve's acting façade drop. He can't help but melt into a smile at the sight of hers.

He turns back to look at the road, that smile still on his face. And Maggie's lips are still curved into a smile, as well. “As funny as you are,” she says to him as he pulls up on Old Cherry Road, “we need to do it before mom breaks the news to everyone else. I don't want the mood to be… off, I guess.”

Steve glances at Maggie as he makes a turn. “Oh,” he says, “uh, yeah, okay.” Maggie's glad he understands.

“I know she wants to do it as soon as possible, so we have to move in quick.” She concludes and peels off her seat as they drive up to the Mayfield's house. There's two little heads poking out of the front door already. Maggie unbuckles her seatbelt, and looks over at Steve. “I'll go get her.” She tells him quietly, and seconds after isn't even sure why she said it. Steve nods at her words either way. “Unless… you wanna try to?” Maggie offers.

Steve's eyebrows raise. His eyes switch between Maggie and the view outside her door's window. “I–I could try,” he agrees, “could use the chance to invite Max to LiveAid, as well.” Maggie nods with a subtle, slightly-proud smile on her lips. She slinks back into her seat as her eyes are still on Steve's all the while. She can see he gets a little nervous, and only after a few moments remembers to unbuckle his seatbelt. Maggie stifles a chuckle, and hopes Steve just won't chicken out of this. “If you see me bolting back to the car, take that as a sign to take over.” He says before moving to open his door, but he stalls. Steve turns back to look at Maggie, at Maggie, who's looking at him cluelessly, unaware of his motives. She pats his hand, but then is surprised by a quick kiss from him on the lips. When Steve pulls away and looks into her wide eyes, he grins. “Just a little courage.” He says and kisses her again. How she wants to make him stay here for the rest of the day and not move an inch away from her… She grins into the second kiss. “You know, some men need alcohol for courage.” Steve states with an important air to his voice. Maggie raises quizzical eyebrows at him and tilts her head, as if asking him something. “But I… just need you.” Steve finishes, and his words make Maggie chuckle.

She pats his chest and pushes him slightly away, so he'd be on his promised way. “You have me,” she assures, “now go.” Maggie gives Steve a certain look, because she just knows his ways too well. “Go on,” she urges when Steve gives her the second series of those lovey-dovey eyes he usually does when something's on his mind, such as procrastination or a wicked plan B. He grins and shakes his head at how well she knows him, and finally does pull away and get out of his car. The thud of his door closing introduces silence to Maggie, but she knows she won't get bored. She turns to sit more on her right side and watches Steve through the window, watches him approach the two girls on Max's doorstep.

A smile stretches her lips as she sees Steve moving to hug both girls, and he actually succeeds, though Maggie sees from here how unexpected a little awkward that exchange is for both girls. She laughs into her hand, nearly getting second-hand embarrassment from the scene. But with half her face hidden by her hand, she raises her eyes and continues to watch what's happening.

Steve's conversing with the girls, hands on his hips. Then he offers to take El's bag from her, and she accepts, so he throws the backpack that looks a little silly and small on him over his shoulder and nods. After a bit more conversation which Maggie can't hear, he gives Max a high five and begins walking El back to the car. As she feels that either or both of them might be looking towards her, she slowly shifts in her seat so it would look like she wasn't watching everything. A playful smile still tugs at her lips, and she just stares ahead while Steve helps El get in and settle inside nicely.

Once she's sitting down and Steve is making his way around the car, Maggie turns around in her seat to see El. She looks… better, if Maggie might say so herself. Her hair looks a little different–Max has done a hairstyle on it that looks pretty good, and natural. El's still wearing her own clothes, and she looks a little more up-beat than the last time Maggie saw her. That natural stoic face she was taught to wear in her earlier years has been replaced by a more natural expression, one that looks like El is about to start smiling any next second. Maggie smiles wide at the girl.

“Hey,” she says in a soft voice, reminding El of a whisper. She gives Maggie that smile she was waiting for.

“Hi,” El responds and tugs nervously at her seatbelt, “thanks for… coming to get me.” She says and Maggie just gives her a shrug.

“Always, sweetheart,” Maggie tells her, and the sounds of Steve opening the door and getting inside interrupt their conversation a bit. But Maggie doesn't turn away from El, “how do you feel? Have you eaten anything today?”

Eleven shrugs. “Cereal,” she says, and at first Maggie thinks she's dodging her first question, but then she's proven wrong. She chuckles at the choice of meal El had, “I feel… okay.” Maggie sees her glancing from Steve to her hands, and it makes her realize that the poor girl probably feels exposed in front of him. Last time the three of them were together, El didn't say much. But she's talkative when she's alone with Maggie. So that explains it, she guesses. She feels awkward talking about her feelings and overall herself in front of someone else who isn't Maggie. Who isn't someone she trusts that much.

“You wanna go home?” Maggie asks her, and El gives her a nod. “You sure you don't wanna stay with Max?” Maggie teases.

Eleven gives her a quiet laugh in response, Steve starts the car up again. “Max needs… to be alone, too,” she says and looks outside her window as Steve begins driving. Maggie and him exchange a quick glance, and then Maggie looks back at Eleven. She's so much more… in touch than the both of them expected.

“Okay,” she tells her and turns back around in her seat, so she'd be sitting correctly, “you're right about that.” Maggie looks at Steve again, and they giggle at seeing that the both of them have that same certain smile on their faces. Maggie shakes her head and Steve pulls his car onto the road again.

“You have your seatbelt on, El?” Steve asks, glancing at the younger girl through his rear-view mirror. Maggie just thought to ask that question. Eleven gives him a look in return, complimented by a smile, and nods while tugging the seatbelt in question upwards, so that Steve would see. “Uh–huh, good.” Steve says in response and gives El a big smile. Maggie chuckles into her hand and keeps looking out the window. Always the baby-sitter.

“What did Max say?” She asks Steve after a couple moments. There's that silence settled between the three of them in the car, which Maggie knows that Steve hates. So because she's genuinely curious and wants her boyfriend to not feel on edge during this wonderfully simple car ride, she thought of the first thing to ask him.

“Oh, uh… I asked her whether she wants to come over for LiveAid on Saturday,” Steve starts to say, “she… didn't seem very excited, but… she told me she'll think about it.”

“Mmm,” Maggie nods along, “well… I'd love for her to be there, but I understand if she won't make it.” She says and looks over her shoulder at El again. “What do you think, El? Wanna watch some musicians dance around on stage to raise money for children who need it? Saturday?” She gives El a subtle smile.

She returns one, though she looks like she's not fully here right now. Maggie can understand that. “Sounds funny,” she says, which makes Maggie laugh again, but in an affectionate manner, “will Mike be there?”

Maggie exchanges a look with Steve. He shrugs. “If he wants to, yeah,” he says, “I'll ask the boys today, alright, El? Maggie will let you know.” Steve gives Eleven an encouraging smile. Maggie glances between El and Steve, and she notices the subtle blush and smile on El's face. What could it be for? Steve calling her by the nickname probably. He's charming even her now, is he? Maggie looks at her boyfriend and leans her head against the seat's headrest. He gives her an oblivious look with raised eyebrows, but diverts it back to the road soon, after Maggie makes a smile and a shake of her head at him. It's nothing. To her, it's just a little amusing.

But that's Steve for her. The naturally ever-charming Steve Harrington, who was King of Hawkins High. Able to woo girls with just a smile or a single word. And that's younger girls for Maggie, too, of course. She knows how she was at El's age–which, she assumes, is 14 or 15–when an older boy talked to her. Even if it was just a prank, it made her all flustered.

Now Steve is in the role of older sister's boyfriend, which is the right material for a kind-of intimidating and charming role. And, of course, he's very charming naturally already, so those two factors just add up. So now you've got this older guy, big sister's boyfriend Steve who'll swoon any girl he looks at. Including El, though she only appreciates that he's nice to her and includes her in the conversations he has with Maggie.

The adults or older teenagers in this top-secret Upside Down group have always cared for the kids, of course, but they've never really been inclusive to the younger kids. Maybe it's because of the age difference, that could be. But Maggie has always tried to blur that line drawn between these two groups, no one else has before. But El appreciates that Steve is doing that, too. What with his friendship with Dustin–the younger boy once said Steve's like an older brother he always thought he wished for–and with everything that happened last year and this summer. And now his intention to talk and maybe even bond a little with Eleven. She sees all of that, and she appreciates it. Not really her intention to blush and smile, that's just a natural reaction she can't help. Taking the way she was raised – by very cold and controlling people – she really appreciates any sort of kindness.

“Okay, girls, we're here,” Steve states the obvious as he pulls up in front of the Byers' house. Maggie's eyes fall onto the repaired wall with the hole in it, and memories from one certain night splash up in her mind like water thrown suddenly from a glass. Maggie unbuckles her seatbelt and spins around in her seat to look at El, giving her a smile.

“I'll be right there,” Maggie says, hinting to her sister that she needs a couple moments with Steve. Eleven understands without hesitance, and nods. Maggie watches her unbuckle her seatbelt and grab her bag, pushing the car door open and getting out by herself next. Steve would have opened the door for her, but he's in a bit of a misunderstanding about what's happening here, so he stays put in his oblivious state. Once El is out of the car, Maggie watches her walk up to their family home and then turns back to Steve.

“What's that all about?” Steve asks with a nervous chuckle.

“Wanted to say goodbye without making El feel… awkward,” Maggie says and then leans closer to Steve, her body still rested in the seat. Steve nods, realization crossing his face, “so,” Maggie says quietly, “Saturday? What time do I have to be there? With El, hopefully?” She makes a sweet smile.

Steve doesn't catch on at the first instance, but when he does, he nods. LiveAid. “Well…” he reaches a hand towards Maggie slowly as he talks, “REO Speedwagon's gonna be on stage at 10am already…”

“That early?” Maggie's face scrunches up slightly. She's not exactly a fan of waking up early. Steve nods.

“It's not that early,” Steve defends, “it's REO Speedwagon, after all.” He makes a point as his hand now rests atop Maggie's on her thigh. She smiles at his point, and nods along. Steve catches the far-away look in her eyes with which she glances out of the window, and he reaches his hand out to stroke her cheek with his finger softly. Maggie turns her eyes to him once more at that gesture, now holding a sort-of questioning gaze in them. “You sure you want to do Saturday? With everyone?” he asks her quietly.

Maggie furrows her eyebrows. Steve's anxieties have risen again. He worries he's putting too much on her again, having forgotten it's in her nature–like he said himself–to take care of everyone. Such a sudden attack of those nervous thoughts, sudden and out of thin air. “Yeah, I'm sure,” Maggie assures and then tilts her head at Steve, her eyes squinting at him and lips holding a slight nervous smile, “why? I know I'd forgotten about it, but I want to watch LiveAid with you, with Robin and the guys… Why the question now?”

Steve shrugs his shoulders, and gives Maggie a dismissive shake of his head. Dismissive towards his suspicions and worries. His eyes drop to his lap. “No, it's–it's nothing, I just…” he sighs, “don't wanna put too much on you now, you know,” Steve looks up at her again. Maggie searches his eyes, fondness overtaking her features, nearly making her tear up, “if you'd… rather be home with your mom and with El, it's no problem, we can watch LiveAid… another day.”

Maggie chuckles. “We don't even know when it'll be out on VHS, Steve,” she butts in.

“I can cancel the LiveAid watch, I can cancel my birthday party–I don't even know if I want it, you know–”

She furrows her eyebrows, “Woah, woah, woah. Slow down, Steve,” Maggie requests, now more genuine worry setting into her features. Steve's hesitant eyes find hers again, “you don't have to cancel everything, okay? Not for me, at least.” She makes a nervous chuckle. “And you're not putting… a lot on me. I promise.” She assures him.

“I just don't want you to feel like you have to do all these things as if nothing happened, you know,” Steve continues with a shrug, “you can stay back any time. I don't know how it feels to go through what you're going through right now, but I do understand if you want some… alone time, or time at home with your family.”

Maggie hears his words, takes them into account, but looks out the window again to really process them and come up with some decent response. It seems like Steve's under pressure, and he's worrying too much about things he shouldn't be worrying about. These anxieties have creeped into his mind out of thin air. She thought they'd settled all this without really doing it already, that everything was plain to see. Maggie breathes a short sigh. “I had some alone time already,” she tells him finally, “and I will still have it onwards,” she looks back at Steve, “and I'll have all the time in the world with my family because we're moving away. I'm sure I won't see anyone else for some time except them.” Maggie makes a breathy chuckle. Maybe those weren't the best words to say, but… she did say them, because it's what she thinks will happen. “Just… if I didn't want to do all these things with you, I'd tell you. I want to watch LiveAid with all of you, and I want to plan the best birthday party for you with Robin,” she smiles at the idea of it, “it's not too much. Nothing with you could ever be too much for me, okay?” She looks into his eyes strongly for understanding.

Steve's eyelids flutter, he considers her words and plays them over again inside his head. And eventually he nods. Thank God. “Okay,” he tells her, and suddenly feels very emotional, as if there's a knot in his throat threatening to itch more and more until tears start spilling. Steve's eyes fall to his hands again, looking at the figures he draws on Maggie's skin with them, “I'm sorry I ever asked, I just…”

“No, it's okay,” Maggie says and instinctively reaches her hand towards Steve's cheek, cupping the side of his face and stroking his cheek gently afterwards. That makes his eyes immediately connect with hers, “you're looking out for me.” She states in a whisper, and Steve nods, though bashfully. Sometimes his pride doesn't let him feel good about people acknowledging his feelings. And he hates that pride for doing it sometimes. Maggie's thumb still softly caresses Steve's skin, and then she leans in closer to lay a kiss on his forehead, putting her other hand on his other cheek, too. Steve closes his eyes at the gesture, and realizes Maggie's never that before. Sure, she's kissed his cheek, and his neck and many other spots, but never his forehead. What a weird realization.

His arms wrap around her waist as they sit there awkwardly, Maggie's head rested atop his, their bodies slightly uncomfortably leaning across the car's console. “I'll call Robin and Dustin up,” Steve says dreamily, “tell Dustin to tell Mike and Lucas,” he continues, and Maggie chuckles at his words, “and I'll see you… Saturday.”

Maggie pulls slightly away and looks at Steve with a wide smile, “bright and early,” she confirms and boops his nose with her index finger, “I could bake something for all of us… a pie or something,” Maggie suggests. Steve scoffs, but with a grin.

“You think those teenagers eat anything other than chips and M&Ms?” He asks, and the question makes both of them burst out laughing. “No, but they'll love it. They love anything you make, actually.”

“They do?” Maggie asks. “I've never heard that…” Steve just smiles up at her at that confession.

“They do, I promise,” he says, “make whatever you like, and they'll eat it up. I'll buy some things, too, go proper grocery shopping. Mom and pops called a few days ago, and said they'll be out of town longer. Thank God, actually.” Steve laughs nervously.

“Oh, business trip?” She asks him. “I actually met them that day I left your house, before… everything went down.” Steve nods.

“Yeah, they mentioned it,” he says, “won't even be in town for my birthday.” Steve says quietly, a breathy, sad tone over his voice as he speaks. Maggie looks at him sadly. She thought he didn't want to celebrate his birthday, but parents not being there for the celebration or even acknowledgement can sure hurt, even or especially if they're not the best parents in the world.

“They'd just ruin your mood if they were there,” she points out, hoping that it'll cheer him up, or at least make him look at the situation more realistically. Steve nods with a sad chuckle, “but I'll be there. And Robin. And a lot of people we're not particularly friends with, but… it'll be fun, I promise.” Maggie assures. “I'll ask Will about LiveAid, and I'll see you then, okay?” She makes sure, wanting these to be the first of their parting words. Steve looks at her after they've slinked back into their seats and Maggie's now getting out of the car slowly. “Nine thirty am, Saturday.”

Steve nods with a wide, tight-lipped smile. “See you then, baby,” he says in response. Maggie's cheeks heat up with a blush, and she gives him a smiling nod. She takes her bag, pulls it over her shoulder and gets out of Steve's car by herself. Steve watches her close the door, smile and wave at him, and make her way towards her family house, her white sneakers contrasting her tan legs and the colors of her dress just the right way. He watches her up until the moment she disappears into her house through the front door, and he drives away from there with a single thought in his head. She's the best thing that's ever happened to him.

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holocene-sims · 2 years

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may 28, 2021 2:00 p.m. newcrest counseling center

(tw for suicide mention)

[grant] do you mind if i rant? because, um, my fiancee cheated on me. i'm definitely going to rant.

[margot] go ahead!

[grant] she cheated and then i broke up with her. i had to. i could barely find the strength to do it but i had to. i can’t stay with someone i don’t trust.

[grant] and i–um, it’s really messing with me. i don’t know if i have ever been so angry in my entire life. like i do not get angry. i don’t. it takes a lot for me to feel that way. the last time i was this mad, it was...no, i'm not going there. but i am furious right now. also really depressed and anxious and afraid of her but that’s kind of fading by now and all i feel is that rage just, like, simmering inside.

[grant] and that’s not even it! i don’t know why she did it. she didn’t explain it to me. maybe it’s not necessary, like i guess she doesn’t owe me that, but why? why cheat on me? it’d be nice to have an explanation! i thought…

[grant] i really thought things were okay with us. she seemed happy. at least i thought she was. she told me she was. i was definitely happy. i mean, we bought a house together, we had all these plans for the future with the house and our wedding, and...it’s just...it’s over.

[grant] i mean it. i thought things were okay, nothing gave me mixed signals...but then she comes to me two weeks ago and tells me she cheated on me with her best friend–who, by the way, i met for the first time in march. her friends came to visit from finland and she was telling me how excited she was for me to meet them and that they wanted to meet this guy she was so in love with. and then she FUCKED one of them behind my back and apparently got pregnant. i had dinner with this guy and we were nice to each other! how are you going to sit at a table with me and then fuck my fiancee? and then she waited months to tell me about this, like waited until she couldn’t hide it anymore. i feel for her, i do, but i don’t know, honesty would be nice!

[grant] and there’s more. there’s all the stupid conversations we’ve had since then. there’s all the thoughts i have. i can’t stop thinking about this, like it’s infesting me. i've totally temporarily ruined my life over it. i relapsed, was binge drinking and stealing benadryl from her to either sleep or overdose and i was, i think, feeling suicidal again. i've had regular PTSD flashbacks to my childhood. i've isolated myself and mostly stopped talking to my family and friends since i saw them last week. and then the stress has made my chronic illness so much worse. even though i stopped a lot of this, i still feel like reset all the progress i've ever made with myself over this one thing.

[grant] but how could i not, like, self-destruct over this? the person i wanted to marry…

[grant] i love her with every fiber of my being and trusted her with my entire heart and i wanted to be her husband more than anything...

[grant] but she betrayed me, hated me when i got upset with her, and basically gaslit me. though she’s never been like that. sometimes she’s a little mean but she’s never...no, she’s never treated me that way. not really.

[grant] and i don’t know what i did. i must have done something for her to betray me. i keep trying to figure it out. either last year was too much or i was doing something wrong or not a good enough partner...or...

[grant] i don’t understand. i don’t know what i did wrong.

#ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 screenshots #sims 4 story #hlcn: everything the stars promised #this made me so sad fjdsjfsdklfs #grant...my poor sweet boy...#holocene.png #holocene.docx #hlcn: margot #hlcn: grant

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writingisartdarling · 10 months

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I am not surprised, but I am slightly disappointed in myself. For, I had planned on writing one prompt every day and I have not even nearly managed to do that. However, now I felt like writing just like these random pieces so I tackled on three individual prompts. And as always, these prompts are from 365 Creative Writing Prompts - ThinkWritten . You can find my takes on the three prompts right under the cut.

Dancing: Who’s dancing and why are they tapping those toes?

Dancing has always been what I love, one of my passions. My only passion really. Whether it is in a dancing studio or a stage or in my kitchen late at night, it doesn’t matter. The way my toes tap against the floor when I twirl around the room makes all of those bad thoughts go away. All of my many bad thoughts. Some would say I am torturing myself by making dancing my whole life, they say it’s not healthy for me. But I don’t agree. I would not be standing here today, if I wasn’t devoting my life to those twirls and those taps of my feet. Nonetheless, they call me the depressed dancer. Quite the right usage of words, even if you ask me.

Food: What’s for breakfast? Dinner? Lunch? Or maybe you could write a poem about that time you met a friend at a cafe.

“For breakfast I would like dinner, perhaps pizza. Pizza has always been my favorite. I’d have a soda with it, a coke preferably. And then for lunch I’d like pancakes. My mother never let me have pancakes other than on the weekends. And it is now Tuesday after all and I don’t need to obey my mother anymore,” I voiced my thoughts before stopping when thoughts of my mother completely invaded my emptying mind. “And for dinner, miss?” the older man standing in the doorway hurried me on - his foot was tapping against the stone cold floor. “Just ice cream,” I whispered and the man turned away and another closed the cell door. I had just described my last three meals before I’d be hanged for murdering my own mother. Hopefully I would manage to annoy her one last time with my choice of meals. You see, she didn’t approve of too much sugars.

Eye Contact: Write about two people seeing each other for the first time.

When I looked into your eyes for the first time, I knew I had found my match. My better half. You looked so beautiful with your eyes smiling just as brightly as the rest of your face did. You were glowing, almost, and anyone beside you looked as if they were jealous of your happiness. I couldn’t take my eyes off you and it worried me you would think I’m a creep for staring too long. But in the end, I sat down near you and looked at you for so long I forgot how long. And now, two years later I am still thinking about you.

The first time I looked into your eyes was an accident. Staring at someone’s eyes has always stressed me out and I prefer to avoid it. But that day, I wasn’t able to look away as your gaze pierced mine. I could feel your eyes on me as if you were just inches away from my face, your eyelashes almost gently touching mine. When I looked up I was met with your hungry eyes and my bright smile from before faded away. Though, had you realized that, you would have looked away. Only it seemed your gaze only got more and more interested in me as it roamed around my face. I felt like it was hard to breath and I sat down on the closest bench I could find, panic tugging at my heartstrings. Now, even two years later I am still haunted by your gaze.

P.S. Do not repost as your own, though, reblogs are appreciated! Thanks!

#writing #writing prompts #365 days of writing prompts #writer life #live my life with me

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someoneimnot-composed · 5 months

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Black Girl...

It's been so long since I used tumblr and I think I've deleted every meaningful tumblr that I ever had. This one takes it's namesake from my original, someoneimnot/some1imnot (?) I can't remember the original spelling. It was a sort of depression-cum-teenage-angst blog, full of poetic and suicidal violent references. I'm not sure how much in actuality I have changed, over 10 years later.

I've been saying ever since I started thinking about working towards my two shows next year with H and DPG that I should start a tumblr. As a way to remove myself from social media and as a way to keep a diary of pictures and influences somewhere cohesively. I guess, now I have actually set the thing up. I regularly keep a physical journal but you can't really record imagery with ease in that.

I just finished watching Ousmane Sembene's 'Black Girl' La noire de... I watched it on the first day in a long time that I have gone to bed in the afternoon out of stress and depression. I used to do this frequently when I felt down, just get into bed and sleep in the afternoon and then I would sleep again at night time. It's quite ironic given the main character in the film Diouanna slips into a depression, after travelling to the French Rivieria to take care of a white families children, and instead finds herself becoming a maid. Suddenly, I think as I write this, darkly, of my closest friendships with white girls and it's not so hard to posit myself in the position of a maid within friendship dynamics, as cruel or egotistical as that may seem, or hateful towards those said friendships. Diouanna (spoiler) eventually commits suicide to take back her autonomy, released from her confines, between the 'post-colonial' confusion of Dakar, and France, it's conqueror. My own self has entered into friendships with white girls that I thought were prettier and more confident than me. I was the silent but unrelentingly, internally opinionated side-kick. Though, not upon my own personal abuse of the freedoms of intoxicating substances. In these dynamics I felt I faded into the background, just as I had felt I had faded into the background of my own perceptibly white family, unless being heralded as particularly good at art or a good listener or source of support. I write this from the position of someone who has recently and continually fallen out with her closest white female friends, over not being able to support them enough or being available enough or not staying in her lane enough. Someone that feels very sorry for them-self, and who all to readily identifies with the idea of the black maid or that black is a representation of sadness. A black hole, a full stop.

*Who's trauma out weighs who's and who's feelings are more valid, I undoubtably seek validation amongst the feelings of drowning within my own head.*

I watched Black Girl after I woke up from this depression nap, that I took right after I felt debilitated by the financial confusion and obligations of my successes, as my accountant didn't write me back quick enough. The original and only response from my accountant with a French name, was without any sense of human to human interaction, and then not at all. You make from the soul and it becomes a commodity, both your freedom and your imprisoning, profiteering off my own identity crisis and self-righteous sense of individuality.

Black Girl is a remarkable piece of cinema and I felt upon discovering Ousmane Sembene, a sense of shame that I had not heard of him before. Then as a woman who paint's Black Girls, how could I have not come across the film before now. I am glad that I found it, though it is both depressing and complex. I am happy that it exists. I intend to watch more of Sembene's films. I hate how sad I often find the portrayal of black people, especially the portrayal of Africa.

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valdederon · 8 months

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FLAMES JOURNEY CHAPTER #17 the angry pup and the un mooving mountian

after a week in the medical wing the little angry riolu begins to rouse up and whimper arm in a cast as it had been fractured in several spots that couldnt be healed by oran berries and she tries to stand up before evergreen pushes his paw on her chest setting her in the nest.

evergreen-- NO.. STAY IN BED… your in no shape to moveyour arm needs to heal and thats going to take another 2 to 3 weeks .

the riolu growls at him and he sjust flicks her nose with his vines making her yelp and tear up as she sits back down and evergreen checks her fire burns and puts more oran berry cream on them and wraps them back.

evergreen-- whats your name hun.

nova--- my name is nova you overgrown plant.. let me out of here.. that damed fire type is going to pay.

evergreen--- settle the hell down you are severely injured.

she pouts but lays back and looks around the room seeing valdederon asleep against the wall as draggo comes in

draggo---hows the pup evergreen.

evergreen--- shes cranky and not happy but over all she will heal.

draggo--- what happened to her she was so angry at val.. she attacked him out of the blue and..

evergreen--- she had severe burns …sighs… probably was attacked by another fire type its not uncomon for some fire type pokemon to become outlaws she may think val atacked her we dont know.

nova--- that dam fire type will die.. no mater what..

ever green sighs and gets her straped down into the nest making her angry as she squirms trying to escape but ends up sighing un able to get loose. after awhile valdederon goes to the training hall and begin to medittate wanting to talk to his old master the golden fox beast kin named raykore. after a few hours he manages to enter a state of spiratural tranquility and finds his master.

valdederon--morning master… ugh ive got my self one hell of a situation.. i find my self in your situation when you first met me.

raykore---- ha ha ha ha whats that mean.

valdederon---just met a riolu recently shes pissed and out for revenge and openly tried to attack me so. yea i need advice on what to do i dont want her to do anything ive done. im seriously stressed out here.

raykore chuckles and takes a drag from her pipe and blows out a bit of smoke.

raykore--- so my student has grown..i say train the kid hun. you know your mistakes. you made your peace with them and you even regret them youve moved past them and gained a new family your so much happyier now then youve ever been.. just rember one thing shes going to be a brat be hard on her but dont over do it. be flexiable when needed become a mountain when shes out of line but never harm her.

valdederon-- i dont intend to. right now shes in the medical wing healing.

raykore looks at valdederon and walks over and puts her paw on his fore head

raykore--- im so proud of the man youve become hun when she is rady accept her into your family… your pack she needs some one she can rely on in her life now more then ever but shes going to fight you all the way like you once did with me.

she kisses valdederon on the side of his cheak and walks off into the distance slowly fading into a rolling fog as valdederon opens his eyes dragon trying desperately to catch his attention.

draggo--- what the hell man you were surrounded in burning red flames.

valdederon--- i was meditating and talking to my old master.. i needed her advice on a verry important decision.. follow me .

he gets up and heads back to the medical wing and opens the door firmly with a heavy thud against the wall.

valdederon-- whats your name riolu..

nova-- its nova you murderous psychopath.

valdederon--- im not a murderer hun.. and im no saint either what i am is some one whos been were you are now..seaking revenger not caring about anything else but that revenge thinking the justice of it will feel like sweet honey .. its not.. revenge. its rotten meat rancid havint sat in the sun for weeks surrounded by rotting corpses fed to a troll and regurgitated out.

evergreen gags at th sound of the description.

nova -- what do you care you dont know me or what ive

valdederon cutting her off--- I KNOW ALL I NEED TO KNOW your pissed.. angry full of rage and hatred for who ever or what ever ruined your life ive seen it in your eyes ive lived it.. i got my revenge news flash.. it didnt fill my with pride it tore my soul int ribbons and corrupted it.. people here say im good but only a select few have heard about my past.. the guild master and his wife.. zelania.. a training instructor and dungeon team observer. draggo has seen my wrath first hand.. when i snap. i go to a dark place .

draggo--- its true ive seen him when he….uh..

valdederon-- i singlehandedly killed 2 demons and 4000 imps in a mater of seconds my past. i was a human in a nother world. i lost my family, my home.. my home town… all of my friends.. my baby sister.. all wiped out in a day. it hurts like hell and it never goes away.. it never gets easy living past it. but here i made a new home gained a new family. i can help you.. but you will obey my evry command listen to my evry word do as i say and we can bring justice with out corrupting your soul.

evergreen stares at valdederon and nova speachless ast to whats happening.

nova-- and if i refuse what then.. are you going to kill me.. like my master.

valdederon-- no i wont but ill make sure you never set foot out of this guild ever.

draggo desperately tries to interject but evergreen shakes his head.

evergreen-- nothing we can do draggo.let it be.

nova looks into valdederons eyes and sees his aura pink with blackened smokey swirls cracks of white in the black and senses no malice no intent to kill and she sinks into her bed turning her head away silently.

valdederon--- understood when your ready come find me. once your healled up anyway

he walks out of the medical wing and draggo looks around utterly confused and bewildered.

draggo--- what the hell just happened.

evergreen-- i have no clue ive never seen him like that..his eyes they..were filled with regret and…hapyness at the same time i dont undertand but i think they agreed to somthing as to what i have no idea.

nova--- his aura.. he.. hes…he didnt ..who did this to me.. if not him.. ughhh..

the next few weeks pass by slowly as valdederon patiently waits meditiating in the training hall waiting for nova to find him and when she does she charges at him with bone rush valdederon sensing it and floating to the left making her fall flat on her face with a yelp.

valdederon--- your rage anger and hatred are a beacon giving your position away.. even a todler could dodge you at this point.. reign your self ind child..

she growls angerly.

nova--- your eyes are closed how could you have possibly seen me comming.

valdederon-- like i said before i was once human in another world my master trained me in the ways of magic.. aura. can be classified as magic to some cultures a magic use can also utilize aura the same wa an aura user can.. though not nearly as efficiently. im still anovice compared to my master..

nova---so what you a magic user or somthing.

valdederon-- a wizard yes. any way are you willing to become my aprentice.

nova growle fists clenched but nods staring at him.

valdederon-- good then we will begin by developing your ability to use aura.. you once created a blade out of bone rush.. show me what you can do but foucse only on th task i asked of you.

she sighs and pulls out a bone rush and pust one paw on the end and focuses her energy into molding it when vladederon uses his staff to trip her.

nova--- what the hell.. you messed me.

valdederon-- SILENCE.. YOU MUST LEARN TO IGNORE OUT SIDE DESTRACTIONS.. in battle no one cares if you mess.. up.. its do or die in battle. you will not have time to react if youfocuse sowly on one action.

she gets up dusting her self off and chages at valdederon. to witch he side steps her for hours the cycle continues untill shes able to at will create a small bone blade dagger lunch time finaly ariving as she collapses exausted and in need of the litter box.

valdederon-- go take a break and meet me in the mess hall.. youve done well so far after bathroom break and lunch we will work on some aura training.

nova--- ho.how…a..are ….you…. so… nimble…

valdederon-- thats irelevant to the situation.. break time and lunch time.. now

she pants and nods heading to the bathroom as valdederon heads to the mess hall and begins gathering food drinks and some pasteries for nova and evergreen walks in to talk to valdederon

evergreen-- vall i hope you dont over work her..

valdederon-- im not after shes finished eating were going to work on her aura.. after that she can rest up and relax shes stuborn but smart..i just hope she doesnt try anything stupid..

nova comes into the mess hall and yawns softly sitting down when valdederon sets 2 piles of food on plates one for her and one for him.

nova---uhhh… the hell is this ??.

valdederon--- eat it up you need this after having worked out so much. and rember were doing aura after this no more physical activities for the rest of the day.. unles you want to wind up back in evergreens office

evergeen-- for the love of mew dont wind up back in my office. i like you but i dont want to have to strap you down again.. and you just got out today .

nova tucks her tail between her legs lowering her ears realizing they areboth right.

nova---..y..yes sir.. i.ill keep that in mind.

valdederon-- any way my name is valdederon most people call me val or valdederon so either one is fine with me you dont need to adress me as master

nova--- yea i do you are training me so your my master.. my real master is dead thanks to a fire type.. he was old but kind..you your just an ass hole.

valdederon---i may be that yes but im here to make sure you dont repeat my mistakes.. understood. nova

she bites into a berry and growls

nova--- yea yea yea what ever MASTER FLAME BRAIN…tsch.

valdederon sighs and begins eating as evergreen leavs with his food to his office.

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idiot-unmasked · 1 year

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My mother’s flaws were small, but they piled and piled. Even if they weren’t small, they just couldn’t impress upon me the true weight they carried.

The inability to speak, instead opting to storm away from the most minuscule of conflicts became like a running gag. It was almost a game to sit still and wait for the sound of a door slam into its frame. What an unusual reaction to being incorrect on my opinion of barbecue sauce, though.

The disregard of our interests was frustrating, yes, but what parent does care? Well, that was my thought until my father could name some of my favorite television shows, or would ask me about the new cartoon in the “recently watched” section of our shared streaming account. My father has his own glaring flaws, but showing me the bliss a simple “didn’t you mention this movie before?” can bring is not one of them. It’s hard to go back to the blunt “I don’t know what you’re talking about”s of my childhood after that.

For some incomprehensible reason, the final straw of our relationship was the day I moved out. My mother and father were helping my new roommate and I shop for groceries, but the stress and my indecisiveness were getting to me until I could no longer speak. Each simple choice, all the way down to “do you need granola bars?” was a mountain I couldn’t scale. My mind was shattered, the spaces between the shards impassible canyons for the travelers of my thoughts. It was all too new, too fast, too much for my splintering brain.

How dare she lay a hand on me. I felt a winding forest grow between my roommate and I in that instant. I don’t think it was ever cut down. I tried desperately to stay composed until out of the public sight, but I could not steady the teetering within. How dare she create weapons against me. At least we were away from the crowds, but it’s possible my roommate watched between our trees. My memory fades. How dare she cast such threats in my presence. Now we were fully out of view, but I soon realized the lack of eyes was a prison in its own right. The only other witness to this was the camera I used. I would need it if the threats came to fruition. I am thankful for the stuffed bear I brought with me for helping me find sleep in the following week. I would like to be thankful to my father for attempting to check on me, if it hadn’t escalated her rage.

Curse my memory. It fails me as though I have been alive for centuries. Even if I can remember events, the details and, more importantly, the feelings escape me. How could the decades of my life be so close to nonexistence?

My mother and I are on good terms. I stay with her when I have time off, where we watch trivia shows and drama series together, joking and talking and hugging and loving as a mother and child should. My experiences have tainted not me, but others around me. Those that have seen her, or heard the stories I’ve shared not unlike these ones here, have all formed an agenda against her. Every one of them. I must defend her. It’s my fault they have this bias. As my pain that prompted this recount recedes to the background and my joy that brings along happy memories takes charge, I realize I have been biased once again.

Do not hate her.

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loorain · 1 year

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Sims 4 Fontenot Legacy - Gains and Losses

One evening, Sigrid made a visit to the house to spend some time with Robin. They greeted each other and he took her to the backyard to enjoy the summer night.

Robin: What do you think about us?

Sigrid: Us?

Robin: I mean, what do you see our future to be?

Sigrid: I mean... I see us happy. Whatever that ends up being.

Robin: You don't think you're missing out on anything being with me?

Sigrid: What's there to miss? You're handsome, smart, loving, did I mention you're pretty handsome?

Robin: I mean, what if I can't meet all your needs?

Sigrid: Well, it hasn't been a problem so far. Robin, don't worry too much. Let's just enjoy what we have.

Robin sighs.

Robin: Maybe you're right.

Sigrid: I know I am.

Sigrid closed the gap between them, solidifying her words to her boyfriend.

Meanwhile, Sabrina sat in their room, ruminating over their own relationship. The initial crush stage has passed, and Sabrina suddenly finds themself not really interested in Bernard anymore. It may be rash, but they think they know what they need to do.

They give him a call.

Sabrina: Listen Bernard, I've enjoyed the time we've spent together. It was kinda crazy how we just sort of clicked. But I'm changing. I'm going to be aging into a young adult soon, and I'm just not the person I was when we first met. I think I need some time to figure myself out.

Bernard: What are you saying?

Sabrina: ...I think we should break up.

Bernard's heart shattered into a million pieces. He was blindsided. They were doing great, right? He was even invited to Anya's wedding as Sabrina's plus-one. They were each other's first time. What caused Sabrina to suddenly toss that all away? In all honesty, Sabrina has spent most of their teen years feeling completely foreign in many aspects. They look largely different from the rest of their family, they've struggled to find their niches and interests, and they feel like they're in a huge shadow of their very successful mother. With no true dad, they have always felt a little out-of-place, even in a household where Armani did take on the fatherly role for the kids, even for them in some forms. It has always been just them and their mom. Nothing wrong with that, but seeing the example of Armani, even with the loss of Kira, and his family made Sabrina feel as if they pale in comparison. Bernard was the first sim to make them feel truly desirable, but it isn't enough. They need more time to figure out who they truly are. It's not his fault, but Sabrina can't lead him on anymore. What they felt for him, though genuine, has faded.

Sabrina genuinely feels bad about things. They wished they could appreciate the good person they had. Sabrina couldn't stay at home. They needed to step out for a bit. They found themselves going to see someone they never expected to really speak to again.

Gideon. Sabrina doesn't know why, but they needed to see him. Talk to him. Explain things. They babbled on and on while Gideon listened calmly. Quietly. Sabrina felt a lot of weight lift off their chest being able to just talk. It feels nice to just be in his presence again. Sabrina finds themselves leaning in...

...but Gideon refuses.

Gideon: Whoa, whoa, not cool Sabrina.

Sabrina: Oh... sorry.

Gideon: Look, it's okay. You're obviously under a lot of stress right now. But remember, you broke things off with me, right? I've moved on. I thought you did too.

Sabrina: I did, but... I don't know. Things are weird. I can't seem to do anything right.

Gideon: Hey, don't say that. You're a good kid.

"Kid." That's how Gideon saw them? A naive kid? After everything they've been through together? Sabrina is just a "kid"?

Alina: Everything okay out here?

There she was. It all came flooding back to Sabrina. How could she forget? Gideon's girlfriend. Gideon's older girlfriend. She surely wasn't a "kid" in his eyes. Speaking of kids...

Sabrina: You're pregnant?

Alina: Yeah. Go on, feel.

Sabrina hesitantly placed their hands upon Alina's stomach. Alina beamed from ear to ear.

Alina: Amazing, isn't it? We're building our little family.

Sabrina: Yeah, it's great... Congratulations to you both.

Gideon sat in awkward silence. Sabrina fought back tears.

Sabrina: It's getting late, I should go. Thanks for having me.

Alina: Anytime. I hope you two had a good time catching up. Have a good night.

As Sabrina left the house, they realized what they almost did. They could have ruined Gideon's life. The family he's building. It was selfish. Childish. Maybe they really were the kid Gideon referred to them as.

#simblr #sims 4 #sims 4 legacy challenge #sims 4 legacy #sims 4 fontenot legacy #sims 4 modded

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honeyhellsbells · 2 years

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hi ! can i please request a romantic mystic messenger matchup ? i’m 19 my pronouns are she/her, and i would prefer a male match !

i’m 5’5-5’6, and have a quite tanned, olive skin tone with freckles, one brown and one green eye, and while i dye my hair every couple of months it’s currently black with a white piece in the front. i tend to dress quite grunge/emo and i have a fair few tattoos, probably too many ear piercings, and two nose piercings, but i’m always planning on more eventually.

i’m an aries, and i tend to be pretty impulsive, which can be a downfall with my lack of patience. i also can have a temper but i cool down pretty quick. i can be stubborn, but i’m also pretty determined and quite a hard worker, and i’m a very competitive person and usually try and be the best at what i do, which can also turn to a flaw when i don’t meet my high expectations of myself. i’m also the person who never turns down a dare. i can be loud and energetic, but i also honestly thrive in stressful situations and i am far too good at winging things i honestly swear that’s my only talent. i’m pretty playful and my parents tell me i’m too childish in that regards, but i’m really good at taking charge and being serious when needed. i’ve struggled a lot with mental health for pretty much all of my teen years so i like to do little things that bring happiness and try to romanticise a lot of things in my life so i can be pretty sentimental at times and try to be as optimistic as i can.

i’m currently studying forensic science, and have had a curiosity for true crime since literally ever. i’d say i’m really adventurous and i love when people want to do things with no planning, but i’m not opposed to doing anything by myself if i can’t drag a friend along. i live a couple of minutes from a beach and i tend to find myself down there most nights watching the sunset, especially in the warmer weather (which is literally all of the time where i am anyway) and i find it a place to escape from everything for a moment. i also love going on late night drives when i can’t sleep, or just on a whim. music is a big part of my life and unless i’m watching tv or a video i’ve got music playing. i listen to a bit of everything but usually i’ll be playing pop-punk/alternative/metal and while i prefer heavier stuff i don’t really hate any genre that i can think of. i also play guitar and bass guitar and sing a bit, even though i’m not super good. i also enjoy reading and painting, and i’m a pretty active person as well and absolutely love running because it feels so free.

i don’t really know if i have an exact type, but i think i want someone who i can joke around with and will match my energy but keep me grounded as well. i am a bit of a hopeless romantic and can fall for someone so quickly but move on just as quick (which isn’t as good at it can sound). i can be a bit of a flirt but most of the time i don’t mean to do it and i don’t realise i am. i think my love language is physical touch and words of affirmation but i also to value quality time, despite being pretty independent.

i have literally written an essay but thank you so much i really appreciate it !!

A good Match Up for you would be…

Hyun Ryu, aka Zen!

Like you he is a person that catches feeling like some people catch colds. It happens fast and unexpected, but a lot of times it only takes a few days to fade away and leave you feeling worse for wear for weeks afterwards. When it comes to flirting, he can take the hits as well as he can dish them out, often enough weirding out the people around you, even though it is always only meant in good fun. That is until he realizes that this is not another of his three day crushes, it's been weeks now and his feelings for you have only gotten stronger.

When it comes to his personality, there are many factors he can find in your demeanor as well. While his impulsiveness has evened out over the years, he is still easy to rile up, especially when it comes to topics he is passionate about. Knowing that this facet of his can get him into trouble easily, he tries to find ways to even himself out, gladly inviting you to participate if you choose to.

Your tendencies to overwork yourselves is something the both of you might be able to work on together. While he is just as committed to his work, he is also worried what your determination might do to your health. Ruining his own sleep schedule and the like with overworking himself is one thing, but to see you slumped over your desk with half empty cups and ramen cups surrounding you is another.

He won't pressure you to take it easier, he knows full well that this might just have the adverse effect, instead he invites you to something you both enjoy beyond anything else. Having you sit next to him in the car with quiet music playing as the lonely road stretches before you in the late night gives him the time to collect himself for the talk to come.

He wants you to know that above all else he cares about your health and happiness, talking about the many happy shared memories you had already spent at the deserted beach he had taken you to. The sand was warm beneath your bare feet with the cool water splashing along your ankles. It was the perfect night for a proposal under the bright full moon, or in that case, a tear filled intervention.

While the both of you were aware that neither of you could afford to give less than 100% at work, but the two of you also knew that this determined energy could be invested in time together. Zen might not be too creative when it comes to the ideas for dates that give you the rush you need to be content, he always participates happily. Whether it is hiking, bouldering or bungee jumping, as long as it is the two of you together, he is on board.

But he also lives for the quiet moments you two share. Whether he is watching you paint, following the strokes of your pen or paintbrush intently while asking questions, or having you rest against his chest as you read to each other. Your relationship is as turbulent as a roller coaster, but in the best way and if asked, that was just the way you liked it.

I hope you like your Match Up!

#anon #match up #mystic messenger #mysme #mystic messenger zen #mysme zen

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saad-days · 2 years

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April 7, 2022

I really don't want to embarass myself or self-sabotage but I want to just keep gushing about him.

I really don’t want to count my eggs before they hatch but this feels….different. Like I don't know how to explain it - but intuitively I just get this “knowing” or feeling when I start seeing someone how to describe it but I always just know if it's gonna last or be a fizzle and fade. And this time idk how to explain it but - I’ve never felt this way, like maybe sort of when I first met Wil but it's still different than even that. All this weird physical stuff has been happening to me - like I've been only sleeping around 3 hrs a night and I have this weird constant energized elated feeling. The only way I feel I can describe it is that it feels like wearing Moldavite all the time, even though I am not.

You have quickly become my favorite person to hear from and my favorite person to talk. The way our conversations flow is so natural and so vibrant and fun and just the vibe - as the kids say - is immaculate.

And just I feel so lucky that not only do we have so much in common, we both adore talking with each other, are attracted to each other, but you're older and have your shit together. I just am very into the fact that you're 32, that you have financial stability, a place you can afford, pets, just all of this maturity is so fucking nice and such a massive shift from the people I was dating - who almost always just made me feel I was taking care of them or they were interested in me because I was far more stable than them.

Darling you are so pretty it hurts. Really a boy this beautiful is just so very very rare. Beautiful and handsome all at the same time. You have the feminine qualities I like and look for in cis males, with the soft perfect skin, nice eyebrows, earrings, painted nails, like boy you are perfectly andro for me ugh. And I cannot get over how hot you are. I usually don't care THAT much about a slim and decently-built physique but holy shit do you blow everyone I have ever dated out of the fucking ocean.

I cannot stress enough how disappointed I am that I'm going away as you're returning and we can't see each other this weekend. Like I barely know you yet I find myself longing to be with you again - missing you, thinking of you constantly.

I think you feel the same? At least, it seems you do. But I'm terrified to get attached just to have you leave. I want you to the one that sticks around. Because, the truth is - I think we could really build something real together. I can see us having a life together, like really truly I don't get that "red flag" feeling whenever I start to think of the future with you. And I've had that with everyone else before you and chose to ignore it. But that is not the feeling this time and I feel like I'm finally happy again and I actually have so much to look forward to every day. Compared to life in January, I am a completely different person. I'm not thinking about death and not wanting to be alive. I've let go of what held me back and down forever. And I wish I had done this a year ago, I wish I had listened to everyone instead of acting like I was going to fight fate and reality.

It's almost hard to recognize myself, slowly I've changed, turned into someone else. And yet also found my way back to who I am.

The last year was maybe the hardest one I've been through and yet I'm grateful for the lowest lows because I became stronger and can appreciate this joy and love that is entering my life now.#journal#journal entry#journaling#getting over someone#moving on#new love#realtionships#happiness#self love#self care#saad days1 notesaad-days

Scotty

I can't believe I'm writing about a boy. I didn't expect our meeting to be anything honestly. I thought I was into someone else until you walked up to my door in your black docs and ripped black jeans, pushing your curly brown hair out of a perfectly sculpted face, meeting my eyes and smiling big, showing off those fucking adorable dimples.

After everything since summer 2020 I really didn't have any hope or expectations for romance - especially with a cis, straight man - if I'm being completely honest. I really thought I was done with y'all after my ex, but my sexuality is fluid and I like who I like. But here I am, hoping !

So for myself - and I guess whomever is reading this - let's take this back to the first day we met after I managed to re-hinge my jaw from the floor where it dropped when I first saw him.

April 1st and if you weren't a Virgo I might've thought it was some type of sick universal joke on me. Because there is no way I would have such luck. I actually ghosted him when I started talking to Malcolm in February and I just stopped responding. But when I went back on tinder recently, I felt weirdly compelled to respond to him again and get to know him more. So I did something I almost never do: I gave this stranger on the internet my number. I know right? Absolutely wild of me! No one does this! (lol) And I'm so glad I did.

**this is my journal so I am allowed to ramble without making this make sense as some sort of "piece".

Immediately I felt extremely comfortable around you - despite being incredibly self-conscious and nervous after meeting you in the flesh. You surprised me with your nice smile, your nice car, your aesthetic matching my own, your mature and somewhat stoic nature, and yet your ability to quietly and smoothly insert compliments and niceties that knock me silly and make me blush. The fact that you not only actually listened to the playlists I forcibly sent you, but that you LIKED them and then went on to enjoy the bands that you didn't know in them, tell me about them, and then PLAY MY PLAYLISTS FOR YOUR FRIENDS?!

Like BOY. You have got to be kidding me with this one. My whole heart is full.

Not only that but he was so into Horror movies and had watched all of Pretty Face and knew Henry Zebrowski. Just green flags left, right, up AND down. We even talked about Aliens man.

Just everything felt right. And for days before meeting him I was barely sleeping, my heart was constantly beating out of my chest and I felt so anxious and weird - as if something huge was coming. These are actually all things I experience before something life-changing happens to me or someone very important is coming into my life.

I went in expecting the usual tinder date. A guy that wants a lot more from me than I from him. A guy who is usually far more interested romantically and physically in me than I could ever even have the capacity for in return.

But this was not that. I immediately could tell this was different. The energy between us seemed to vibrate and I felt those butterflies beating at my ribcage and rising up into my heart, giving me palpitations. You made my cheeks flush and my brain-to-mouth connection was rendered completely useless by just your presence.

Going back to my place after kava was unexpected honestly, I was not going to have you over after, but when you asked it just felt right. I will say I was nervous because I then started to think you just wanted to get into my pants and....at this point - after getting to know how absolutely fascinating you as a person and your experiences and background were, and the fact that we hold the same love & family values and are in similar situations in terms of our families - I wanted more. And when you went to put your arm around me and asked if that was okay my heart skipped maybe 6 beats. And then to hear that you were so nervous just to do that - wow.

Lighting cupping my face in your hand and kissing me so softly - I felt this white-hot electricity between us and if I'm being honest I never thought I would feel what you awoke inside me again. I never thought anyone other than my ex could stir this type of feeling - this feeling that I know turns into love, in me ever again. I thought everyone else would be nothing compared to that love, that I would never feel this way again.

Is this real? Can I trust this? Can I trust you not to use me, hurt me, ghost me? Waiting this out until we can speak again Saturday is kinda killing me because then I get stuck with all these what-ifs? What if you meet some hot babe on the cruise and decide fuck this 27 yr old chick and I never hear from you again? I don't think so but that hooded emperor palpatine version of myself tells me he's gonna find someone better and I'm nothing. I know that's not how he feels but that part of me still shows up to haunt my joy sometimes.

You're away this week and I just hope that I will hear from you as soon as you get back on the mainland on Saturday.#dating#romance#journal#journal entry#saad days#tinder#first datesaad-days#cat#kitten#tongue#cat tongue#dopey#doofus

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April 22. 2022

And I have entered my 28th season. I felt like I had moved into this new chapter months ago though. But I can't believe how much has changed. I feel like I've become a completely different person, and yet found my way back to who I really am and what makes me truly happy and fulfilled. I feel like finally my dreams and goals for myself are manifesting currently.

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shorkbrian · 3 years

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I swear I ain’t in it for the money, but I can’t stop thinking about sugar daddy shoto. Maybe he sweeps a cute little college kid or barista of their feet, just something fun and casual. But this man starts falling harder, needing a way to lock them down to him. Money isn’t quite cutting it anymore, so he decides fucking a baby into her would do the trick. Shoto would push her down into the mattress, large frame twisting her into a sweet mating press. This way they could stay together forever and Shoto would have absolutely no problem providing for his sweet family <3

but fr tho I feel like Shouto is NOT the type for kids.

Mans will tolerate them when they babble or wave at him, but he very actively Does Not Want them.

Always uses condoms, and even though he’ll threaten not to, it’s never a legit thought in his mind to cum inside. Shouto doesn’t want to be a dad.

-----

You’ll be sittin on a park bench, fading sunset dark and pretty in front of you yet all you can do is cry. There’s not really any people around so it’s not like you’re bothering anyone - you hadn’t wanted to cry in your shabby apartment (half the cause of your worries) just in case you received a noise complaint.

“Are you alright?”

A somber, smooth voice is heard. You’re swiping at your tears quickly as you look up, trying to laugh off your state of distress. “Oh, haha, yeah I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” It’s hard to smile with your puffy cheeks and red-rimmed eyes.

The man in front of you frowns, hands in his coat pockets, scarf draped around his neck. “You don’t look fine. Mind if I sit?”

He’s already claiming the spot next to you on the bench before you can say a word, turning to you with a passive expression. “Why are you crying?”

And that’s all it takes to have you breaking down all over again, tears streaming down your face. Just one person offering to listen to the heavy burden you have to bear.

‘’M sor-sorry...” You sob, wiping at your eyes with frigid fingers, successful in doing nothing more but smearing tears around your face.

“Here.” The man’s taking off his scarf, gloved hands offering it you.

“I ca-can’t use your sc-scarf sir.” But he’s insistent, pressing it into your hands up by your face.

“I’ll just get another one. Keep it, you’re in need of it more than I am.”

The kindness makes another fresh bout of tears roll down your cheeks, but this time you're able to dab them away with soft fabric as you sniffle.

It takes a moment for you to calm yourself. When you do, you can finally engage in conversation with the man.

You tell him about your job hours getting cut, how you’ve been turned down or ignored by every single place you’ve applied at for a second job. How you’re barely affording to wash your clothes - you have to hang them or drape them across things in your apartment because you don’t have the money to pay for a dryer cycle.

And to top it all off, you’re still short on rent, despite how you scrimped and saved and even forced yourself not to buy groceries this week - you’ve gone hungry for the past three days.

“You haven’t eaten?”

You glance up at the man and his incredulous expression, shaking your head. “I’ve been trying to save money, I thought I could afford my rent if-”

“What kind of food do you like?” The man is pulling out his phone, swiping and tapping immediately.

“Thank you, but I’m not-” looking for charity is what you want to say. Plus, you shouldn’t accept favors from strange men.

But the handsome man is waving you silent. “I’m cold, plus I’d like to grab a bite to eat before I head home. I don’t like eating alone though, you’d honestly be doing me a favor.”

You take a moment to process. Is he telling the truth? He sounds like an honest guy.

“Seems like the only place open around here is “Joe’s 24 hour Diner”.... You mind burgers?”

So that's how you end up in a booth opposite the man (”Shouto” he had told you as you both headed to the diner), munching away at warm food. It tastes so good, you hardly have time to worry about the man watching you as he eats.

You’d been shocked at his looks the moment you’d seen him in the light of the diner. Pretty two-toned hair, different colored eyes, perfect skin, expensive clothes. Why was he even talking to you? It’s obvious the two of you led very different lives.

“How does everything taste?”

“Delicious.” Is your response, and Shouto seems pleased, nodding before taking another bite of his meal.

Maybe it’s stupid... but you feel weirdly safe with this man. He doesn’t seem to bear any ill-intent towards you, nor has he made any comments about your body or let his hands or eyes stray. He seems like a gentleman.

Conversation flows easily between the two of you, even sharing a few chuckles at times. He’s some fancy rich businessman, you learn, and you share about your own life, laughing at the comparisons. Shouto can’t fathom growing up in a house with less than five bedrooms and a personal servant.

He asks for your number, and you’re hesitant in giving it - he surely can’t be interested in you? But he seems so sincere, it’s hard to say no.

When the two of you part ways, Shouto gives you a wave, “Hope to see you again soon, and under better circumstances.”

“You too! And sorry for being such a mess and stopping your walk-”

Shouto shrugs, cheeks beginning to pink from the cold air as you two stand outside the diner. “You needed help. I like to assist.”

-----

The next morning you wake to find an atrociously large sum deposited in your Venmo account by none other than a Shouto Todoroki.

Immediately, you’re calling him. “It’s too much, we just met. How can you give away that much money to some low-life?”

You hear him sigh on the other end of the phone. “You’re obviously struggling. I was wondering what your hours are this week, perhaps we could talk about this over dinner? Or lunch, if that fits better with your schedule. I’m flexible.”

It’s a few days later, days spent questioning yourself, questioning his intentions, before you see him again, both of you deciding to meet for lunch to further discuss... whatever had just happened.

“Was what I gave you adequate to cover your rent?” Are the first words out of Shouto’s mouth after you greet each other.

“Yeah, more than enough-” You squirm. “But I need to ask.... why?”

“Why?”

“Why me.”

“Oh.” Shouto’s expression clears. “That’s easy. I told you a few days ago - I like to assist. I’m quite lonely, and it feels nice to use my money on someone other than myself. I think providing for someone brings me... I wouldn’t quite say joy, but... contentment.”

You contemplate his answer for a moment.

“Well... you saved me with my rent, I don’t really know how to thank you.”

The man leans forward. “Well.... I know it might be a bit sudden, but how would you feel accepting me as a.... benefactor of sorts?”

“You mean like a sugar daddy?” Is your immediate, blurted response. You want to slap yourself for speaking before you have the chance to think about your words, but luckily Shouto just lets out a light laugh.

“If you’d like to call it that. I’m willing to provide financial assistance for you, in exchange for companionship, if you’re willing to give it.”

Your face heats up as you drop your eyes, fidgeting nervously in your seat. “I don’t feel comfortable with a... a sexual relationshi-”

“That’s perfectly acceptable.” Shouto cuts you off before you can continue. “I wasn’t trying to insinuate a contract of that nature. I’m thinking more along the lines of accompanying me at meals, sharing experiences with me, providing company and friendship to a lonely man. If it seems that we’d like to progress further than that after we get to know each other, well, that will be addressed then. For now-” Shouto meets your eye, dipping his head a smidgeon so he can look at you directly. “All I ask for is a simple, non-intimate bond between two people.”

This is crazy.

And yet you accept.

The situation may be wild, and completely absurd, but you’d be a fool not to say yes.

Shouto is charming and handsome, respectful, courteous - you could go on and on about his positive qualities. He just seems like a sad, lonesome man swallowed by work and responsibilities, too stressed and busy to put the effort into making friends the conventional way.

-----

Months pass by.

You’re eating at every meal, sated and never going hungry. You’re able to move into a new place, one that doesn’t smell like cigarettes and sits right next to a railroad.

Clothes aren’t a worry anymore, you have your own washer and dryer in your new apartment (Shouto offered to buy you a house, or a penthouse at the least, but you couldn’t justify it to yourself). You’re able to afford new things, and pretty dresses, shoes that are comfortable and fashionable and that fit.

You no longer have to wear clothes down until they have holes in them. You’re able to go to the doctor’s when you feel sick, able to pay for health insurance.

Life is good.

Shouto is a personable man, serious, but he can be rather funny and even crude at times.

The doubt and thoughts of “Why is he doing this for me?” and “I’m not good enough for this.” plague you, but Shouto always seems to catch on, reassuring you that you’re exactly what he needs - a friend.

And you’re more than happy to be that.

You think sometimes, that even if he wasn’t paying you, you’d still like to be friends with Shouto Todoroki.

Until he starts acting weird.

“You should just stay at my place. I have more than enough room,, it’d be easier for both our schedules. We’d get to see each other more often.”

“Uhm...” You don’t really know what to say. You like your freedom, and having your own place where you can walk around in your (expensive) underwear without being bothered.

“I think it’d be nice, don’t you? We could have breakfast every morning, you wouldn’t have to worry about traveling to and fro, we could spend more time together. We don’t see each other nearly enough.”

He’s pushing, insistent. How are you supposed to tell him no? He’s paying for your entire life. Plus, it wouldn’t be that bad to actually live with him. Shouto’s an amicable man.

So you move in.

“I bought you a few things, they’re on your bed.”

Shouto’s striding into the kitchen where you’re making coffee, buttoning up his shirt as he comes closer. You’ve found that the man likes to sleep in nothing but boxers, shrieking and flushing an embarrassing shade the first time he’d come to wake you up with a sweet “welcome” breakfast in bed.

It’s taken a while to adjust, but you finally feel that you’re fully settled in.

“Oh, you really don’t ha-”

“I wanted to. I went through your closet - your clothes are nice, but your underwear seemed to be lacking.” He’s so matter-of-fact.

All you can do is stare at the back of his head.

“Could you pass me a spoon please?”

-----

Shouto had splurged on expensive, fancy lingerie.

At least eight different sets were laid out on your bed. It was overwhelming. It also felt.... a bit intrusive? They were all in your size, in a complementary color for your skin tone.

Weird.

Not as weird as the onset of Shouto’s casual touches.

You’d be reading, or drinking tea and watching cars race by on the street so far below, and Shouto would come up behind you, caress your sides before intertwining his fingers with yours on one hand. He did it as if it was a normal thing, but it felt anything but normal.

Or you’d be on the couch together, and Shouto would shuffle closer until his large body was pressed to yours, almost curled around you. The faux-cuddling was a bit more off putting. How do you tell him no?

The touches became more and more intimate, Shouto’s gifts more and more frequent until you weren’t even spending a penny, the man taking care of everything.

The arrangement was beginning to make you uncomfortable.

Shouto’s bi-colored eyes seemed to always be on you, tracing the shape of your body, watching you move, or breath, or sit. It was distracting, and you felt bad for feeling this way towards the man who’d pulled you out of poverty, but it was so unnerving.

He seemed to notice.

“You’ve been so stressed these past few days. Is something wrong?” Shouto’s rubbing a hand into your shoulder, hovering over you at the dinner table.

“No?” Is all you can manage, wiping your hands on your napkin as you finish your food.

Shouto frowns. With a sigh, his hand drops from your shoulder and the man leaves your side, heads toward the kitchen.

You clear your plate from the table, following after him so you can wash it and put it in the dishwasher before you head off to get ready for bed.

But Shouto is rummaging in a cupboard, pulling down two wine glasses to accompany the bottle of wine that’s standing proud on the island. It’s your favorite, a sweet wine that Shouto knows you like, always brings it out when he decides to drink whisky or bourbon after dinner.

He pops the cork and pours you a glass while you finish with your dishes, handing you the glass when you turn away from the sink, pressing it into your hands. “Let’s relax a little bit, it’ll be good for both of us.”

You’re fine with that, knowing that a little wine won’t hurt you, especially when it’s of such fine quality. You’d never dreamed that you’d be able to taste such richness in your lifetime, spend frivolous amounts of money on wine and fine eateries. Yet here you are.

Shouto pours himself a glass, barely a sip filling the bottom. The man raises it to his lips and takes a swig, grimacing a bit in his flat, unexpressive way. You giggle a little.

“Too sweet?’

The man nods, setting the glass back down. “I’m not entirely sure how you can stand to stomach it. But if it makes you happy-” He shrugs, before pulling on of the bar-stools out from under the island so he can sit facing you, long legs stretching out before him.

You look at him, and he looks at you, and then you take another sip of wine to avoid the awkwardness.

“You’re distancing yourself from me.”

The accusation is quiet, Shouto’s eyes focused on your fingers wrapped around the stem of the glass.

He’s always been straightforward with his words. “Is there a reason you keep drawing away?”

The wine disappears from your glass, sliding down your throat and settling in your stomach. You fill your glass again before speaking, struggling to find the right words without upsetting your... benefactor.

“Well, Shouto... I don’t really know how to...” You trail off, hoping Shouto will say something, change the subject, say it’s alright and move on to something else.

But the man stays silent, eyes appraising you.

Taking a deep breath, and another gulp of sweetness, you try again.

“Sometimes the closeness... like, physical closeness? Makes me, well, uncomfortable.”

Hopefully, that would satisfy his curiosity for now. That wasn’t the only reason you’d been avoiding Shouto seeming distant, but you didn’t think sharing the others would result in anything good.

Said man accepted your response, dropping his eyes to his lap as he mulled it over. More wine was consumed, glass re-filled. You felt nervous.

“You’re saying that my touch isn’t something you’d prefer.”

Biting your lip, you soften at his confused expression, at the hint of sadness swimming behind his eyes. “Kind of. I don’t mind you Shouto, you’re really kind, and you’re good company, and a wonderful friend. I just don’t think the.... the intimacy is for me.”

Shouto raises his head, stares at you with those pretty eyes, lips parted as he comes to terms with your words.

“It sounds like you don’t trust me. I would never hurt you, you know this.”

You scramble to assure him. “I do! I do trust you, and I know you wouldn’t.” (at least you hoped) “But I guess I just... Coming into this agreement I wasn’t ready for that type of... thing. I don’t know if I ever will be.”

The man rises, shakes his head as he steps closer to you. “Don’t worry, I remember our first conversation about that aspect. I see that for you, that type of relationship would only begin after you really cared for the other person, trusted and wanted to see them happy, am I correct?”

“Oh, Shouto-” You rush. “No, I care for you, and I trust you, and of course I want to see you happy. I think it’s just, y’know, my last relationship like that went really bad, and it sucked. I don’t want to go through that again.”

Shouto nods, understanding. “I see. You don’t have to worry about any of that with me then.”

A smile crosses your face, and you feel relived that he accepted your rejection with grace and understanding instead of violence or anger. “Thank you, it means a lot to me.”

The mood of the room shifted, from tense and uncomfortable, to easy and light, and you poured another glass of wine, laughing a little at how worried you were about the conversation with Shouto, only for it all to turn out fine.

“I’m going to go drink some of the liquor that’s kept in my room. I could mix a few drinks for you to try, you might like how sweet they are. I know hard alcohol isn’t quite your thing.”

You beam a smile, nodding your head eagerly. Before, you’d feel apprehensive about going into his room with him to drink alcohol. But with the conversation the two of you just had, you knew - things would be fine.

-----

The room was spinning and you felt giddy and light. You were definitely tipsy.

“You can lay down on my bed, you’re getting wobbly on your feet.” Shouto had offered, and you’d gladly accepted, flopping down onto his comfy bedspread with a laugh at how the motion made butterflies rise in your tummy.

Shouto leaned against his dresser, swirling whiskey in his glass as he watched you, a half-smile across his face. You smiled back, before closing your eyes, a little bit tired as you realized that you might be a bit more than just tipsy.

Shouto had mixed quite a few drinks for you, and you’d drank each one eagerly, impressed with how little alcohol you could taste in each one. You don’t remember how many you had, but it didn’t really matter.

The next thing you know, hands are on your waist, scooting you further up the bed so your legs no longer hang off the edge. Cracking open an eye, you’re met with the visage of red-and-white, eyes soft and warm as they regard you, Shouto’s face tinged a bit pink from the few drinks he had consumed. The man had never been too good at holding his alcohol.

When those hands started to slip beneath your shirt, you wiggled like a little worm, not really comprehending the situation. Maybe it was a dream.

Your shirt was discarded, then your pants. It felt much more comfortable now, and you mumbled a “thanks” to the man helping you settle for bed. He was so nice, Shouto took such good care of you. You still kind of couldn’t believe the turn your life had taken with him, the good luck pushed into your path.

Someone was kissing you.

With a grunt of surprise, you kissed them back, meeting their feverish pace and trying to keep up, soft lips puckering and pushing against your own with intent. Kissing felt good. You liked kissing.

Then a hand was cupping your face, stroking tenderly over your cheek before it began sliding down, down your neck, into the valley between your breasts, trailing over your bra. It felt funny.

Pushing back for air, you gasped when the hand on your chest started squeezing at you, eyes flying open with the startling, sudden sensation.

Shouto was hovering over you, lips puffy, panting as he stared at you with lusty eyes, an uncharacteristic look on his face. This... this wasn’t supposed to be like this. You knew. Hadn’t the two of you just talked about something... important? Was it important?

You didn’t feel panic until a hand cupped your sex, feeling your skin through your panties.

This wasn’t right.

Alarm bells were ringing, dull and far away, but you didn’t think that Shouto should be touching you in such a way. you should be going to bed.

“Mm, Sho, can you stop?” But your words felt funny on your tongue, and Shouto didn’t stop. Maybe he didn’t hear you.

His hair tickled your chin as the man bent to mouth at your tits, pulling the cups of your bra underneath them so he could feel your hot skin, let his saliva drag slick and wet against your chest.

Your hands instinctively rooted themselves in his hair as you gasped again, not expecting such a move, tugging lightly at his head to pull him up. Shouto just groaned, teething gently at your breasts and not moving an inch. His hips were grinding against the bed though, as he stood between your spread legs.

Before you knew it, your panties were gone, bra clumsily unclasped and discarded, and you were completely bare. Shouto was undressing before you, struggling with the buttons on his shirt before giving up, easily ripping the fabric of his body with one tug, grumbling.

You didn’t feel so tipsy anymore.

“Shouto, what’re we doing? We shouldn’t be doing this, we need to stop-”

“Stay down.” Was his firm command, a hand splayed across your naked chest and pushing you back into the mattress as you tried to sit up. It made you breathless, the growl in his voice, the dominance emanating from the man. You stayed still.

“This’s gonna make us a stronger couple.” The man slurred, eyes dark and hands wandering, effortlessly keeping you pinned against the bed as he ground his hips forward against the edge. You were getting scared.

“Wait-”

You fell silent as one hand pushed down his pants, his underwear going with them, pink cock bobbing free. He was so pretty down there, and it made sense, all of him was pretty, but you suddenly realized the weight of the situation, what was happening.

“Shouto, no, oh my god. We gotta stop right now, we’re drunk, we’re-we’re-”

“Don’t care. Not gonna let you hide away from me this time.” Shouto shook his head, taking his cock in one hand and giving it a long, slow pump, flushed tip weeping precum and wetting his hand.

“No, no, this is wrong. I don’t want this, I could get pregnant!” You cried, beginning to panic for real, pushing against the one strong hand anchoring you to the bed.

Shouto just chuckled, letting go of his cock to crowd against you, getting up in your face to press a wet finger to your lips, the salty taste of his precum threatening to slip into your mouth unless you kept it shut. “Shhh, shh. If you stay nice and still, if you do what I say, I’ll use a condom.”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“You’re gonna listen to me, you always do.” The man nodded to himself, once again dragging his cock against the bed between your legs, as if he couldn’t stop himself. “Or else I’ll fuck you raw.” The finger was pulled from your lips, only to be wagged teasingly in your face.

You couldn’t believe how he was acting.

“Be nice.”

Shouto tapped your nose with a neatly manicured finger, before groaning as he heaved himself upright, red cock bobbing against his stomach, desperate for attention. The man gave you a look, as if to say “don’t move” before he took his hands off you, heading for his dresser.

Once you saw him pulling out a strip of condoms, you were on your feet, stumbling toward the door.

Although panic had sobered you somewhat, you were still struggling with the effects of the alcohol, so your reaction time was maddeningly slow. Slow enough that you weren’t able to truly fight against Shouto when he grabbed you from behind toned arms wrapping around your middle and heaving you into the air, only to throw you back on his bed.

You were almost sick on the bedspread, world spinning and stomach protesting, but you were able to calm yourself.

But then Shouto was on you, flipping you onto your back, a soft hand pressing against your throat threateningly.

“You want to have a baby? Want me to cum in you so you’ll get all fat with kids? Hm?” He was so intense, almost choking you, straddling your waist and keeping you pinned. It was too much

You were able to manage a tearful, desperate “No!” despite the hand around your throat, and Shouto backed off, releasing the pressure to instead stroke his hand against the sides of your neck.

“Stop acting like this, it’s the next logical step for us. You said you cared for me, wanna make me happy. This’ll make me happy. I won’t be like the last guy.”

His cock was pressed against your stomach, and you could feel it twitching. Shouto clambered off of you, letting go of your neck so he could grab the condoms he’d tossed on the bed before snatching you up.

“Do what I say and I use these.” He waved them in your face before tearing one off, beginning to open it.

You stayed still, gazing at him blearily, limbs feeling fuzzy, mind feeling the same.

The condom was rolled onto Shouto’s cock, the man spitting into his palm and giving the latex a few rubs to make it slick before reaching for you.

He dragged you to the edge of the bed - the perfect height for him to fuck you - and you didn’t fight, terrified of his threat. You couldn’t stand the thought of a baby.

(You didn’t know, but neither could he)

“Wanted to do this since I met you.” Shouto mumbled, pushing your panties to the side with a few fingers so he could guide his tip to your hole. “Want you so bad.”

You didn’t know what to think of this side of Shouto. This unreserved, uncareful, slurring mess of a man that loomed before you, gaze dark and wild, limbs everywhere as he groped and squeezed and appreciate the shape of your body.

But he must’ve gotten impatient, because then he was pushing inside.

It hurt, stinging pain rippling up your back and you keened, causing Shouto to pause. One of his hands darted down to wrap around your calf, hauling it up on the bed so he could lean forward and press it to you chest, sinking his cock a few inches deeper.

“You’re gonna take it.” He hissed before messily kissing you, pressed so close together that it was hard to breathe. “I’ll make it feel good after you do.”

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tsukishimas-shortcake · 3 years

Text

Relationship Headcanons

↦ Character(s): Hakkai Shiba x fem!reader

↦ Rating/Warning: No rating though there are some light mentions of abuse (if you have read the manga you are aware of what I am talking about, I’m not going very deep into it though it literally just mentions it), mentions of anxiety attacks (no detail though), fluff, not proof read

↦ Word count: 1.8k (longer than planned, sections are bolded)

↦ Your Momo’s Receipt: Hello~ I’m post yet another TR headcanon and this was requested by the lovely @strawbub I hope this doesn’t disappoint, it did get longer than planned but I enjoyed writing it. I'll prob do a part two that's more of a scenario based on your first date or something since I didn't go into it here. Please note: for those of you who don’t know my blog is currently under construction, meaning I will not be updating my masterlist for the time being.

So how did you guys meet, well mostly because of Yuzuha,

One day in like elementary you’re walking home and you see this super pretty middle school girl just like yelling at this small group of guys

The guys end up running off just because they don’t wanna deal with her or the attention she's drawn to them

Behind her was a boy, taller than her but obviously younger. You didn’t assume they knew eachother though.

The boy and yuzuha began walking in opposite directions because one was going home while the other was going to pick up something like groceries

You’re so entranced by how she stood up to them yet she’s a girl who was far smaller and you end up catching up to her, almost stepping on her heels

You end up absent mindedly following her into the grocery store and eventually she just freezes, turns, and stare directly at you

Your eyes widen since you must’ve been staring and she just goes “may I ask why you’re following me?” And you explain how cool she was earlier. She invites you over for dinner (esp since her older brother won’t be home) and figured it’d be good for Hakkai to meet someone his age

You end up going over but Hakkai didn’t come down to eat so you never actually got to meet him, though from then on you would see Yuzuha every so often, visit every other weekend or so

But no matter how often you came over the next few months, you never once met hakkai,

That was until you both reached the end of your middle school education and we’re about to begin high school

You had gone over because you were going to borrow an old work book from Yuzuha, and when you go to knock on the door the door opens before your closed fist could hit it, instead hitting a firm chest

You blush and quickly apologize but the person in front of you doesn’t move at all, doesn’t say anything and almost looks like they drifted into space with their dead stare

You assume this is yuzuha’s older brother because you’ve also never met him and you immediately turn to walk away but Yuzuha calls over hakkai’s shoulder

“Y/N-Chan! You just got here where are you going?” This was def not yuzuha’s older brother. There’s no way she’d be that happy with him around; oh my god. Realization hit, the guy who you hit (though it was more of a tap) was hakkai.

The hakkai you had only caught a glimpse of in yuzuha’s photos, never talked to or actually seen in person despite going to the same school and living in the same neighborhood

He must hate you. That’s why he avoids you. That’s def why - is what you think

Yuzuha drags hakkai back inside and invites you in; you sit down with them in the living room and watch hakkai visibly relax now that he’s inside his house, his own space, with a pillow behind him and a blanket covering his lower half, he almost curls up into it as he continues to avoid your stare

“Hi hakkai…Kun? Im L/N Y/N” you say and you see his face dead pan once again

Yuzuha can be heard laughing from the kitchen as she comes back in.

She leans over and begins explaining that hakkai literally just freezes with any interaction between him and girls who aren’t in his family

You nod, thinking maybe it’s an anxiety thing? Which is the case with you, but only because he’s been watching you since you’ve come over (not in a creepy way) wanting to and working the courage up to talk to you

The 5th or so time you came over after that encounter he was inches away from introducing himself before the house phone rang causing everyone to kind of “wake up” in a sense

Every time since then he gets closer and closer but isn’t able to say anything; he even realizes he has a crush on you.

The way you sit when you do homework and how cute you look when you’re focused.

How your forehead scrunches up when you’re trying to figure something out and you end up just sitting back with a small huff followed by yuzuha’s signature laughter.

It’s also a huge thing that you get along with Yuzuha.

So enough with first meeting time for the confession.

He ends up confessing accidentally. He didn’t know you were coming over to begin with so he was flustered out of his mind. And how was he supposed to know you hadn’t actually fallen asleep and you could hear him over the tv

The tv was more white noise than anything and the day was hot since it was the middle of summer causing the window to be open and the sound of soft wind and small birds to drift in; this was the hot that makes you tired so you were all sprawled out of just sitting in a daze

So while resting your head on the table you’re dozing in and out but then you hear hakkai begin to speak, something he never really did around you

Now did you and hakkai text? Yes. Did it take him an hour to reply because his brain would explode when you replied to him? Yes. But was it a start to communication? Also a yes.

You hear him say your name quietly before he moved closer, you can feel his gaze on your features

“I like you” is all he says. Simple and sweet. But you sit there in shock, trying not to blush so he’ll have no idea you heard him but he can tell because your forehead scrunches

You heard him and are focused on if you should reply or not. And he knows that.

You open your eyes and just look up at him, he’s closer than expected. His hand close to yours on the floor and he reaches over and grabs it lightly. Hoping you’ll also return the gesture by holding his hand instead of leaving your hand limp inside his.

And you do, thank goodness, and Hakkai almost mentally can’t handle it.

Once you start dating it’s more so just hanging out at his house or yours; however he talks a bit more and you text a lot more. He’s gotten better at replying. It usually takes him like 15 minutes now

He’s kinda stressed about your relationship but not due to anything you or him did

He’s stressed because of the mentality his older brother gave him

Is he even allowed to be this happy?

He finally has someone thats small enough and naive enough that he can protect you; compared to constantly being protected it’s a sudden, strong, yet good change for him

He’s touch s t a r v e d

Yes Yuzuha shows affection; but he stopped accepting her hugs when he was around 8 just because he physically wasn’t able to handle it due to his bruises and such

But with you, even with his bruises and all you take care of him. Able to coax him into using medicines and toning down the physical violence (that he can control himself)

He also finds it super soothing when you lightly brush over his scars (especially those that his brother gave him), it helps him believe that scars are only physical and can fade with help

One thing that stresses him out the most is trying to hide you from his brother. Any time you leave something at the house its easy to pass it off as yuzuha's but when it comes to things like photos he has with you, he can't hang them up, show them off, or have them as his phone Lock Screen, etc. because he just really doesn't want his brother to know and target you since he'll then know that you're his weakness (aside from yuzuha as well)

Sometimes won't explain why he can't hang out and has legit pushed you out of his house before at the last minute notice of his brother coming home

Will always make sure you get home safe though, usually by having Yuzuha go with you since then she can just say you're a friend from school

Your parents love him, though they were a bit hesitant it became a "you always have a place to stay" because they learned about their family situation from you and yuzuha. So expect him to spend the night when he's too scared to deal with his brother. Same with yuzuha. (yes I know this isn't yuzuha head canons but its hard to write for him without mentioning her when they're so close)

We're talking three person sleep overs. Yuzuha and you of course share the bed and Hakkai takes some time to even set foot in your room much less sleep on a mattress that's on the floor

He has a small heart attack every time he comes into your room because he's overwhelmed with everything, he's never been so comfortable and it makes him feel restless. Like he's never and I mean n e v e r been less stressed and slept better than when he does so in your room

The smell, the colors, just being surrounded by you is something that completely changes his mood

Once showed up after he fought with his brother, tears in his eyes and clothes a bit tattered and you just pulled him to your room, and sat down with him.

You laid on your bed with him laying down onto of you, head on your chest as you rubbed his head and only said a few words "its not your fault"

He ends up crying so hard he falls asleep and gets dehydrated and you have to make him drink a bunch of water when he finally wakes up.

NSFW

super fucking careful w you

almost annoyingly so, but you're understanding

He knows that he might be taking things frustratingly slow but he knows that since you understand and know his history that you can help him get through it

Your first time you think you'll have to call it off because he's shaking so bad

"baby... are you sure it won't hurt you?" he keeps asking.

pretty sure that's the longest its ever taken him to finish because he was so anxious

despite being so slow and hesitant, late he isn't too scared to get a bit rougher

but im not talking anything crazy im talking like he's willing to pull your hair a bit or nip a bit harder at your neck.

Please never ask him to do anything like degrade you or some type of harsh physical rough shit, he can't

like literally im 99% sure that if you ask him to choke you or something he will pass out because of the anxiety attack he would have at even the thought.

in short with nsfw though he is sweet boy. He's a switch through and through. Loves when you take care of everything because then he doesn't have to be scared of hurting you.

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