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#so nobody really has an idea of my personality i guess
neil-gaiman · 12 hours
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hhhi Neil
*flops down into your inbox like a deflated cat*
you ever think you have some super original idea, one which you really really wanna turn into a novel, and so you get super excited about it and you start planning and plotting and making up all these things, and you start writing it, but then it turns out it's already been done before so now you feel like you have no option but to run from the Obviously Very Real Copycat Lions that will maul you to shreds if you keep writing your Copycat Story, or is this just a newbie thing?
because. i was -wellistillambutyouknow- really excited about this story i'm working on, especially because it's sort of based on irl experiences i've had so even if the characters aren't real, it does get really personal. but it turns out someone has already done a very very similar concept and i can't help but feel exponentially bummed out, but more than anything, astronomically underleveled for this thing, because this person is already a well known writer and i'm Mr. Nobody From Nowhere. and yea i guess i know i'm just being dramatic and The Copycat Lions are probably not real. but. anxiety is a bitch mann
Sincerely,
my imposter syndrome
Write your story. It won't be anyone else's story.
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synthetickitsune · 10 hours
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omg i woke up and saw your post about requests and came running!! you alr know i need all the angst in my life so can i please req dk + come back to me if he hurts you” 🥺🫶🏻
thx for helping me realize i write mostly angst for sunshine boy and continuing the tradition 🫶🏻 akjddsk
DK (SVT) | “Come back to me if he hurts you.” angst | 0.7k | gn!reader
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He stares at you, processing. It feels - well, there’s no way to put how it feels. His chest is hollow. He has no parallel to draw, so he just… stares.
The information shouldn’t come as a surprise. He’s heard through the grapevine that you began dating again. Honestly, should he even care? He does. But should he? Does he have any right to care? The split was amicable, mutual. Friendly even. You’re friends still. You seem happy. He’s genuinely happy that you are happy, so why…
“Seok? Are you alright?” your panicked voice and slowly approaching hand make him wake up and flinch away. He feels his face soften from whatever grimace he was making upon seeing your hurt expression.
“Sorry, yeah,” he clears his throat, “I’m alright. Uh, so things are good, yeah?”
He tries hard to ignore your face morphing into a mask of indifference.
“Yeah, things are good,” you repeat.
The silence that follows is awkward and stretches on. He wants to break it but he has no idea how.
“This was a mistake, wasn’t it?” you laugh, but it sounds empty as you hide your face in your hands, “I don’t know why I told you.”
“Hey,” he protests way too quickly and his hand immediately shoots to your shoulder, and he pulls it back just as quickly. You turn towards him and frown. It’s unusual to see him so serious. “I want you to tell me. You’re my friend.”
Your smile is sad. He hates it.
“We’re more than that, Min,” you sigh. It’s quiet again and he’s just as helpless.
“I guess I want to tell you everything - would that be cruel?” you meet his eyes again, but all he sees is the anxious way you fidget with a loose thread on your pants, “I guess I just want to know if you think we’ll work out. You’re the one who’d be the best judge of that.”
“I’m the worst one to be the judge of that,” he corrects you, his voice slipping into his comedic persona easily, “Seeing how things turned out.”
You do laugh and some of the unpleasant feelings lift off his shoulders. He doesn’t know what would be the best or most appropriate thing to say next. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to feel. All he knows is he has to start talking or this will be very pathetic very soon.
“I’m really happy for you, sorry,” he smiles, blinking away some of the moisture in his eyes, “I don’t know why this-” he motions vaguely to his face, “Happened.”
You chuckle, but looking at you, your eyes are wet too. 
“I get it,” you nod, “I’m so scared it’ll end wrong again.”
He sighs. As if he didn’t know the feeling intimately well. 
“Did-” he stops himself before he can finish, thinking better of it, but you push for it anyway. “Did I do something? Something so bad it makes you afraid now?”
“Oh god, Min, no,” you rush to reassure him and end up grabbing his hand in both of yours. You bite your lit. This isn’t exactly how you expected the talk to go. “If anything you loved me too well. So I’m afraid I won’t feel love like that again. Or that I’ll fuck up and lose it.”
“You couldn’t ever fuck up like that,” he laughs - the idea alone is so ridiculous, “Because you’re the kind of person nobody would want to lose.”
You shake your head, leaning into him with a laugh. He’s warm against your side. It feels comfortable. Comfortable like it used to feel even before you dated, like it did when you were together too. You missed being this comfortable with Seokmin after the breakup. 
Things change, but maybe they don’t need to be all that different. You have too much history to let go. And all of it is good - as much as humanly possible.
“Come back to me if he hurts you,” he outstretches his pinky to you. You huff, but there’s a wobbly grin on your face anyway when you promise with your own.
“You got it, Min.”
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badaziraphaletakes · 3 days
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This may be a bad place to ask this question, but I have a bad headache and feel like making poor choices.
If some fans who have posited this turn out to be right-I will not feel surprised or that the story choice was unfounded or unearned- but at the moment I'm of the personal opinion that Aziraphale really did like the idea of going back to Heaven to fix it from the inside with Crowley and that his face at the end is a mixture of sadness about breaking up with Crowley and alarm at what Metatron has just revealed about the second coming.
If we take the story at face value-I am struggling to see why this would engender quite so much hatred of Aziraphale. In taking the narrative at face value as I am currently doing- I see a being desperate for approval and acceptance in an abusive system that they've believed in their whole lives and breaking out of that is really really difficult and sometimes there are setbacks. I guess one of the emotions I feel for Aziraphale right now is pity.
Given some recent blog posts of your's on my dash, I think there might be something I'm missing though?
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This may be a bad place to ask this question, but I have a bad headache and feel like making poor choices.
Hi! Thanks for reaching out! It’s not a poor choice! We definitely want to keep these lines of dialogue open :) We try our best to be respectful when engaging in discussions like these! After all, our goal is to promote a more respectful and inclusive fandom.
If some fans who have posited this turn out to be right-I will not feel surprised or that the story choice was unfounded or unearned- but at the moment I'm of the personal opinion that Aziraphale really did like the idea of going back to Heaven to fix it from the inside with Crowley and that his face at the end is a mixture of sadness about breaking up with Crowley and alarm at what Metatron has just revealed about the second coming.
It’s certainly possible. I don’t blame him for wanting to believe what the Metatrash said - after all, ever since Crowley fell, Aziraphale has never for one moment imagined that there’s any possible scenario where he and Crowley could be safe together, so no wonder he leapt at the idea of them both being able to be in heaven together (assuming that’s what happened and he wasn’t, idk, bluffing or something - but I’m not even gonna open that can of worms lol). Also, I don’t personally think it’s wrong of him to want to try to fix heaven from the inside, either. It’s not like he has any other choice, after all.
I am struggling to see why this would engender quite so much hatred of Aziraphale. Us too! :)
In taking the narrative at face value as I am currently doing Fwiw, I don’t think anyone is or isn’t taking the FF “at face value”. It’s very clear there’s a lot of the FF we didn’t see and a lot of things about it that were deliberately meant to be confusing. It makes sense that some people think Aziraphale was happy at the idea of Crowley going back to heaven and some people don’t and some people think Crowley stopped time and some people don’t and some people think the whole thing was planned and some people think Aziraphale had a bullet in his mouth and some don’t, lol! :)
I see a being desperate for approval and acceptance in an ab*sive system that they've believed in their whole lives That’s definitely one possible explanation and if that is what was going on in Azi’s brain, that’s FINE and NOBODY has the right to condemn him for it.
But here’s the thing: We saw that Metatrash could hear what was being said in the bookshop and that Aziraphale knew that.
Given that, it’s a very safe bet that the conversation was very different because Aziraphale knew he was listening.
(We also have the extremely unsubtle “coffee or death” metaphor and we saw that Metatrash tapped the Coffee or Death logo which just happened to be facing toward Aziraphale and that Aziraphale saw him do it. Metatrash was holding a gun to his head.)
Is it possible that Aziraphale wants Metatrash’s/heaven’s approval and acceptance / still believes in him to some extent? Sure. HOWEVER. We should never assume victims believe the things their ab*sers force them to say. As a survivor, I can attest that that assumption is exceptionally painful and burdensome for victims to have to live with and multiplies the psychological harm. (And sadly, the assumption is rampant in our culture. There have been studies that show that people think victims in hostage videos who read statements prepared by their kidnappers with a gun held to their head actually believe the things they’re being forced to say. It’s deeply troubling. Not saying this is what you’re doing just to be clear lol!)
Victims get into this horrible mental pretzel of thinking that they’re as bad as their ab*ser and must secretly like and/or deserve and/or "cause" the ab*se, and so on, yada yada yada. It plays into the ab*ser's goals of causing alienation from friends and loved ones so that the victim has to depend completely on them for physical and emotional reasons, and of eroding the victim's sense of self, by making them think they're a bad person. (E.g. Victim thinks "I must be a bad person, because if I were a good person, I wouldn't have let [ab*ser's name] make me say that my friend is fat" etc etc). It’s really one of the most depressing aspects of ab*se.
Given that, I think practicing giving Aziraphale (or whatever character) the benefit of the doubt and defaulting to the interpretation of his motives that attributes as much influence as possible to the literal gun to his head lol (i.e. he’s going back to heaven because he doesn’t have a choice and needs to do it to protect Crowley, slash also to save the world, because, let’s face it, it’s not like they have any other options; they were only able to interfere with Armageddon in S1 because Crowley’s official position working for hell gave him an in) is good for us to get into the habit of, so we can make sure we extend the same respect and dignity to real-life victims/survivors. (At this blog we are HUGE believers in the idea that the way we behave toward characters informs the way we behave toward real-life people, and also reflects it).
and breaking out of that is really really difficult and sometimes there are setbacks.
Absolutely. The physical setbacks (i.e. “my ab*ser will kill me if I leave” &c &c) are far too often underattributed, however, with far too much of victims’ motivations for staying being put down to “psychological confusion” or “emotional ties” or whatever. I wish we as a society would pay more attention to how to solve the problem of ab*sers committing ab*se in the first place, and then why they are so much more likely to kill their victims if they try to leave, rather than the question of why some victims are still in love with their ab*sers and so on and so forth. Because that is the only way we'll ever find a solution. Whether you’d want to stay with the ab*ser even if you had the choice to leave is completely irrelevant when you can’t leave because they’d kill you if you did.
I guess one of the emotions I feel for Aziraphale right now is pity.
Us too!
Given some recent blog posts of your's on my dash, I think there might be something I'm missing though?
Hope this helped! :) Again, thank you for a very thoughtful ask! It gave me an opportunity to revisit some points that I think bear re-iterating frequently on the blog anyway, so I appreciate that!
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highlifeboat · 3 months
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Lmao, you really said, "I will have my canon transman! One way or another!"/lh
Nah, but really, you go off :p
Moira deserves more content 💜
I will, and if it can't be Jill (who I still wanna root for because she's still giving the vibe) it's gonna be the 20 year old afraid of fire arms who I've known for like... an hour.
Plus Moira would probably model himself after his dad, and I can actually tolerate Barry. Mostly because I don't remember him very well from the first game but I'm sure he was typical Macho Man Tough Shit.
Even though Moira is 100% giving Emo boy and not Macho Man.
(That said I promise nothing in terms of content)
It's not like I don't have transmen headcanons for characters that already looks like dudes, but I think a transman who hasn't actually started transitioning at all is... something. I dunno.
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just finished s6 of elementary (finished s5 on sunday. lol) and i’m trying to get my friends to watch it also so unfortunately i can’t drown them in my spoilery rantings so instead everything is going in the tags here so uh. abandon all hope ye who enter these tags, spoilers abound
#im gonna pad these tags a bit actually#so the spoilers go behind a 'read more' or whatever#youre welcome <3#have i mentioned you should watch this show#anyways we're probably safe now su#HOOOOOOOOOLY SHIIIIIIT#that is not at ALL where i expected that to go#gregson was really warming up to me this season. he had never really stood out as a characted before but i think he really shown in s5&6#but man. that finale. honestly idk if i can forgive his character for that. i know he was just trying to protect his daughter but she had to#take responsibility for killing michael because it was not fair for joan to take the fall for that even unintentionally. im definitely gonna#miss him tho. and marcus too. i mean i knew his presence was coming to an end anyways with the marshalls but this finale has really dissolve#d the core cast here. now its jsut sherlock and joan. back in london too; thats quite the move#and in the last season. i guess the total shift is setting and cast didnt do well with ratings? or maybe it was always going to end at 221b#idk. but i think my favorite part of this season was sherlock completely devoting himself to the idea of joan getting a kid#personally idk how i feel about the narrative making her a mother in the end. i could say it has come problematic implications about women's#roles but honestly within the context on the narrative? i dont think thats entirely true. anyways i jsut thought it was super cure how much#sherlock just wanted joan to be happy and fulfilled. 'i would make adjustments for you watson always.' 'we're two people who love each other#they way he develops through her. the way he learns how to love and be loved. the way he becomes kinder and he lets down his walls to laugh#with her and smile with her. the way that they understand each other in ways nobody else ever has. it makes me som emotinal#HE NAMED A BEE AFTER HER#im never going to get over that#anyways 'uncle detective' is maybe the cutest thing ever. he cleaned up his murder dollhouse for a kid she didnt even have yet :)#ok i think im done. for now. its 1am and i have class at 8:30 so uh i guess  i'll just die about it but oh well. i was gonna watch one more#and then i realized the one after that one was the season finale so you see how i did what i had to#anyways. good night#:')#will tags this far in even get registered? oh well#elementary#cbs elementary#please someone talk to me about them
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strohller27 · 2 years
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#so I guess it’s time for one of those late night posts where I basically write a diary entry#but like anyway being lovers with someone is such a wild concept to me#and maybe it’s because I’ve never met a person who has been willing to love me the way I’d like to be loved but like…#how do you get somebody to care about you so much that they want to be around you all the time#ask you about your day and listen and then tell you about theirs#someone who I share interests with and participates in things with me#who also understands that it’s cool if I go off and do my own thing once in a while#how do you get someone to trust you enough to be open and vulnerable with them and vice versa?#I’m not sure I’ll ever find someone who’s willing to put up with me just as much as I’m willing to devote myself to them#it just seems like such a person is too good to be true#like people tell you that there’s someone for everyone but that sounds like a comforting lie if I’m going to be honest with you#is it just that I’m in the wrong place? or that I’ve been depressed for long enough that I never developed a healthy sense of optimism?#(at least where it concerns the idea of love)#like I was watching MASH the other night and Hawkeye said something to Margret that really hit it on the head#he said something like ‘why are you looking for something tailor made in an off-the-rack world’#and I thought yeah damn#nobody can be tailor made for us. we’re stuck with what’s out on the sales floor#and sure we can make alterations to garments but with people you can’t do that#so like where does that leave us?#do we really just kinda go through life settling for whomever we’re willing to put up with at the time??#I guess I gotta hold out until I find someone who’s worth working with and making alterations to my self for#but like. I’m unfortunately still super skeptical that it’ll ever happen.
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tareloin · 2 years
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Self-insert/persona of mine. Chen (陳), they/them.
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disneyprincemuke · 6 months
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midnights, 4 * mv1
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you’re woken up in the middle of the night in cold sweat and max’s name at the tip of your tongue
pairings: max verstappen x reader
warnings: sad again :(
notes: i’m almost at 2k followers!!! i’ll be doing a sleepover event soon, so do look out for that!!!
(prev) // (next)
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it feels so real, the way his hands are cupping your cheeks with his thumbs rubbing circles against the skin. “my darling.”
“max.” you come out in a whisper, your hands clutching onto his wrist. “don’t go.”
“i wouldn’t ever dare.”
wouldn’t ever dare.
that’s the words that woke you in a jolt, met by the darkness and stillness of your own bedroom. you stay in your position for a little bit, the weight on your chest making is slightly harder to breathe.
the effort to steady yourself is constant, but slow. there’s a tingling sensation where you think he last touched you, on your cheeks and by your neck. your lips are numb that you have to graze your fingers over it to make sure you’re really awake.
you exhale shakily, finally turning over to your side. you sigh and snuggle your face into the blanket. the picture frame of max kissing your cheek stands tall. it was his championship race from the 2022 season, right before he left the garage to start the race.
you couldn’t bear the thought of putting this one down. it had been a special moment with him, the thought of winning back to back championships seemed so silly in the beginning.
max doesn’t haunt your dreams often, even when you’d been pining for him. watching the championship sprint race wasn’t the best idea. you’d fallen asleep on the couch before it started and woke up with max’s face zoomed in on the screen.
it took everything in you not to send him a message, congratulating him on a win that was undisputedly his. every fibre of self control not to give him a call and ask him how everything has been.
you were curious yourself how the sprint had gone — you watched clips of him after the race looking drained. it almost brought you to his contact to call him, drowning him with questions laced with concern.
you wanted to be the one to press the cold towel to his forehead and essentially wipe him dry of his sweat.
you felt like a stranger to his life, and it’s killing you. you don’t know if he’s celebrating the championship with some other girl on his arm, sharing a tradition that only you two were aware of.
you can’t help but wonder if his champagne flavoured lips has been tasted by another woman and it makes your stomach churn at the thought of someone else having that luxury. a luxury that you seem to have dismissed too easily during your relationship.
but you realise it’s not really your problem, now that he’s just another ex-boyfriend; you’re just another ex-girlfriend.
your phone lights up on the nightstand, illuminating the picture frame. a small smile stretches your lips when you catch a glimpse of his lips smushed into your cheeks. not knowing what max is up to almost drives you crazy when you let it get to your head.
you now know nothing of the person you knew everything about.
it’s a bigger change than anyone cares to elaborate after a breakup. it’s a lot harder to deal with, but it’s something nobody ever talks about.
they tell you about the crippling pain of losing the love of your life and how empty the bed will feel without them. but nobody ever tells you how directionless and painful it will be when you feel yourself start to become a mere memory to them.
you slide your phone off your nightstand, reading the notifications that flooded your phone. you hadn’t expected anyone to be texting you so late, but you remember that half of the people you know are in another timezone.
danny ❧ not here for championship weekend? :( ❧ oh nevermind :/
the texts were 3 hours apart. you’re guessing that somewhere between those two messages, max had confessed about what happened.
alexandra ❧ did u text him?? ❧ it’s ok if u did…
but you still didn’t feel like talking to anybody. you drop the phone behind you and close your eyes.
a shaky breath passes your lips, max’s face flashing for a second — the face he makes when he’s across the room at a function and he spots you in the crowd unexpectedly. it’s very gentle and you can almost see the love oozing out of him when you’d caught it.
you open your eyes. you turn to your other side, now facing the empty half of your bed. you stretch your arm out and try to imagine the feeling of max next to you.
you try to remember what it felt like to be cuddled into his chest with his strong arm wrapped around your back. but it’s been so long since you’d been in such an intimate position with him, even before the relationship had come to its end.
sleep never came that night, the image of your love creeping up every single time you kept your eyes closed for too long. the sun had risen before you fell into a slumber, but max never left your mind even then.
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taglist: @merchelsea @leclercdream @labelledejourr @laneyspaulding19 @lpab
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novalizinpeace · 2 months
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Remember when you explained the hierarchy of the heretics? I really love this pyramid. It was made in such a logical way, but seeing this pyramid brought this question to my mind. Is there a hierarchy system (pyramid) of those on the Prototype's side? So, for example, creatures like Catnap and Huggy Wuggy are on the side of the Prototype, if I understand correctly. So do you have a hierarchy system for them?
(Personally, I think Catnap would be at the top of this pyramid. But I would like to hear your opinion more)
yup, i actually had it at the same time that the other one, but i was waiting for someone to ask for it.
Just so you know, all classifications and stuff like that was made by Alba, she like to keep track of everything, incluying the other side of the factory. Since she know the cult has a strongly religious view, she decided to classificate them in a ''religious'' way
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1- The prototype ''Lucifer''
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''Never had fully she him, but we all know his image is more that our eyes could deal with, forming himself with everything he can found, there's no limit for the creature that call himself the owner of the true. I know his intentions weren't wrong at the beginning, but now... I can't call him my saviour nor my angel, no when he has become blind with pride, just like the one that create us all''
2- First PJ ''Lilith''
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''There's a reasons Play.co started to make all experiments genderless, they try to give reproductive organs to a experiments once, and the result was Lilith, a Pug-a-Pillar that only need Poppy serum to survive, but that instead of grown would produce new ''baby pjs'' that came from eggs similar to a kinder surprise. It was a success in the beginning, they thought she was the answer to the financial problem, and the possibility to sell the babies as pets was even in paper, but... she start to morph, the babies start to come out bigger, hunger, and dangerous. She was caged underground without serum in hopes to stop her transformation and the egg production, but after the Hour of Joy the prototype broke a Pipeline and create a source of food for her, making her grown to the point she's now. Yeah, we all get to eat the babies to survive, but the idea of her existence under us is even scary that the own prototype.''
3- Catnap ''Paimon''
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''So loyal to his superhero, that he's unable to see all the crimes the prototype has send him to commit in his name. His claws are dirty with children blood, and that something nobody can come back, but... I think there's still someone inside him, someone that Nell also know, but i don't know is theres even a way to reach to that child, a child that is deep sleep in the red smoke''
4- Candy Cat ''Beelzebub''
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''The only reason we hadn't a Pug-a-Pillar infestation in the factory, he's so big but at the same time is till able to get into place he's not supposed to be, i guess is a cat ability of sort. He eat everything, no matter what, no matter if is ally or enemy, he just eat. Somehow, he eat a full beam from the playcare construction, said beam broke his skin from his stomach, and still, he's alive. No sure what can kill this beast.''
5- Boxy Boo ''Leviathan''
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''The gatekeeper of the prototype's room, he's more intelligent that it show, an actually dangerous predator, he knows how to be really quiet, to the point of make you release that you're fucked when the music box start, but luckily, he's also only like human prey, so is weird to see him attack us. Daddy was a idiot and tried to show off by dare him into a fight, he thought that would impress Mommy and make her interesed in him (she wouldn't, he was too chatty and weepy in her eyes), what a way to make Mommy a ''widow'', but Boxy was a good winner at least, just taking Daddy body and leaving us alone.''.
6-Miss Delight ''Astaroth''
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''The only reason she's still alive is 'cause Catnap feel pity for her, and 'cause we found her useful, since she know where are all Play.Co documents, and is full of random information that has help us more that in one ocassion. Her mind is completly gone, but by just giving her a piece of food she become docile. Just for the note, never mention or ask for Barb, 'cause she would speak for hours about her, to the point of force you to speak with Barb and follow the ''conversation'' she affirm the pointy shit is making with you. Nell make the mistake once and was enough to never make him put a foot in the school again, and that was 6 years ago, and Delight keep saying ''where's the doggy coming back? Barb want to resume their talk with some tea'', i can't even tell him without laughing.''
7- The followers
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''they're just hungry, and desesperate. The Pjs were born in the cult, and are blindly loyals, while the rest are just broke enough to don't give a fight, they just follow the prototype and hope, pray to be the next sacrifice to stop their misery, to stop the hunger''.
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fairuzfan · 1 month
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I don’t ask this expecting you have THE answer or that there is one, but I follow a non Palestinian white man on insta (in addition to many Palestinian folks in diaspora and in Palestine) who mostly shares things from Palestinian ppl/sources.
He has several times criticized / shared criticism of charity dinners, music festivals etc raising funds for Gaza with the perspective of, it’s not appropriate to have a dance party or dinner while people are undergoing genocide, but also that in this moment, art isn’t resistance because there needs to be physical resistance, blockades of weapons, etc.
I’ve seen this echoed from some others especially critiquing white folks trying to claim “joy is resistance” right now, which makes sense to me, but i also wonder if it’s reductive to say art or music is not resistance because I feel like it can have a lot of power especially alongside social movements… was wondering if you had thoughts on this or perhaps knew where I could look to learn more.
Please ignore if this is too much, and thank you
I think things like writing and illustration and music feeds into the spirit of revolution and is necessary in that way. You have to energize the masses somehow, and to ensure that your message spreads as far as possible. A good way is to make art, or to sing a song, or write a story.
That's why Wisam Rafeedi wrote his book and different resistance factions make posters and videos — to spread their ideas and garner support among the masses.
It's not as important as putting yourself in immediate physical danger to incapacitate the colonial entity — but I think for Palestinians and other colonized peoples, they do need to make art to really process their thoughts. Of course there's a difference when a Palestinian in Palestine, a Palestinian in the diaspora, a nonPalestinian ally of color, and a NonPalestinian white ally do this. I won't deny that there's a nuance when it comes to this.
But writers who write about Palestinian Liberation historically have been assassinated because of how they participate in liberation actions and also spread ideas of liberation themselves. I don't know which white guy you're talking about but I feel like this is mostly a conversation that should be led by Palestinians if we're talking about Palestine because they understand the nuance of saying statements like "the only resistance is physical." I understand what he's saying to an extent but that does erase a lot of Palestinian resistance the past few decades by making sweeping statements like "art is not resistance" and kind of simplifies the issue at hand.
Charity dinners and galas and that stuff... I don't know what I think about them, I think that people are going to do it either way so my opinion doesn't really matter. Hey, if you're going to raise thousands of dollars for Palestine, I'm not going to stop you at all. I personally think you should try to avoid posting pictures and stuff like that from the gala itself if you're going to host one just out of courtesy.
I guess overall what I'm trying to say, art resistance becomes physical a lot of the time. I think its really reductive to say "art isn't resistance" and also personally insulting considering I have family members and friends who were journalists, creative writers, and artists and killed/targeted for their work.
Here's this article by Fargo Tbahkhi about the role of writing during a genocide that might be a good read. They also mention how Israeli propaganda (calling Palestinians "human animals"/"Amalek" as an example) is specifically a use of culture and writing to energize people to commit genocide. An especially poignant part that I completely agree with, and am trying to get at:
Palestine requires that we abandon this catharsis. Nobody should get out of our work feeling purged, clean. Nobody should live happily during the war. Our readers can feel that way when liberation is the precondition for our work, and not the dream. When it is the place we stand, and not the place we shake ourselves towards. In this way, what the long middle of revolution requires, what Palestine requires, is an approach to writing whose primary purpose is to gather others up with us, to generate within them an energy which their bodies cannot translate into anything but revolutionary movement. This is what Boal modeled for us in his theatrical experiments, which were dedicated to empowering audiences to act, to participate in a creative struggle to envision and embody alternatives. For Boal, theater was not revolution, but it was a rehearsal for the revolution, meant to gather communities together in that rehearsal. Creative work readies us for material work, by offering a space to try out strategies, think through contradictions, remind us of our own agency.  
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hwasoup · 2 months
Text
Tale As Old As Time
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Playlist !!
art credit: Marbipa
OMG GUYS IM SOSOSO SORRY FOR SUCH A DELAY, COLLEGE REALLY DEVOURED ME IN THE MOMENT. AND TUMBLR REMOVED THE OPTION TO MAKE THE TEXT YELLOW...SO THE COLOR WILL NOW BE ORANGE. However, this is a double update week bc I owe you guys bc of your amazing patience with me!! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter
like always don't hesitate to lmk if you would like to be tagged:')
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warnings: talking objects, borderline assault, Canis Lupus
word count: 3.3k
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Chapter 4: Dinner is served
However, in the village’s small tavern….
“UGH, WHO DOES SHE THINK SHE IS ?!” 
“Uhh Ben, chill out here you’re drunk.” Eddie says, while trying to take away his beer. Ben looks at Eddie extremely furious and annoyed “So? don’t you see that- that woman has messed with the wrong MAN ?!!” Eddie winces at his words a little and says “erm…. sure…let's say that she did.” Ben, who was moping in front of the tavern’s fireplace, takes another swig of his beer. “Dismissed, publicly humiliated, How DARE she! Nobody says NO to ME!” he says in a growl. Eddie sighs and rolls his eyes a bit and cracks his knuckles. “Well, you’re not a bad person... And besides forget her, you have tons of admirers in this tavern anyways” he says with a remark. Ben groans “Ugh, EDDIE LISTEN... My rustic cabin, my latest kill roasting itself on the fire, the children playing with the dogs ...and a pretty wife rubbing my feet…And what does Y/N say?? she says NO” he says throwing his beer into the fire.
The flame bursts a bit startling Eddie, but he proceeds to maintain his composure. “Listen to me ben…listen to the tavern…they’re all here because they’re admirers of you...” One man yells “NOBODY BITES LIKE BEN OR CAN WIN AT CHESS LIKE HIM” 
Another man yells “HE CAN EASILY WIN SPIT CHALLENGES” The tavern eventually comes together as they spew out all of their favorite qualities of ben. Especially the women, all of them gushed over his blonde hair, his brawn, his charm, and even his chest hair. (for some reason) Ben’s mood lifts and he smiles as he cheers along with the tavern of the glorification of his achievements and assets. People get together and eventually dance and drink as a small trio plays some music to add more to the cheerful atmosphere. Ben sits beside some ladies and brags about the number of eggs he eats in the morning. “TEN CHEERS FOR BEN RILEY !!” the tavern yells After a while of just fooling around, with a brightened mood Ben sits back in his lavish chair and looks at Eddie “that was very fun, thank you… but how come not a single woman has approached you?” Eddie chuckles and simply scratches his hair “well…I’ve been told I'm either too bored or too clingy .... I have no idea why though...” Ben just stares at him and clears his throat, looking back at the crackling fire.
Suddenly, the joy got sucked out of the room when Mauricio came waddling in tattered clothes, unruly hair, and barefoot. “SOMEONE, PORFAVOR QUE ME AYUDEN!!” The people in the tavern whispered to each other as they stared at him. Mauricio runs towards Ben and other customers in the tavern as he yells “SHE’S LOCKED IN A DUNGEON, EL LO TIENE CAPTIVA !!” 
A man asked, “but who?” Mauricio looks at this man with his eyes filled with fear “...who?... WHO?? MY DAUGHTER Y/N< WE HAVE TO GO SAVE HER NOW !!” Ben raises an eyebrow and looks at Eddie as he tries to stifle a laugh, not believing his words. He gets up and approaches Mauricio and pats his back “calm down Mauricio, now tell me… who is it that has Y/N locked in a dungeon?” 
“UN MONSTRUO! A BEAST !!” 
Crickets could be heard in the entire tavern as it went silent… 
The entire tavern bursted into laughter at the idiocy of his words. 
“Lemme guess! He’s a huuuggee BEAST.” 
“HE’s got an UGLY MOUTH WITH TEETH” Mauricio in his fears nods his head vigorously as he confirms each person’s questions about his so-called ‘beast’. He looks around and trips and falls on the wooden floor “Will you help me?” he asks with tears in his eyes.  Ben rubs his chin as he rolls his eyes as he decides to say something sympathetic to him “alright, alright, Mauricio relax, we’ll help” Poor Mauricio looked up with hope in his eyes as he thanked Ben for his courage to step up and help him. It didn’t last too long since he shortly got thrown out of the tavern by the owner due to his “madness.” 
Little did he know that Ben was already devising a plan with Mauricio’s plea for help…that may or may not have to do with marrying his daughter.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
On the other hand in the Castle..
After what seemed to be a few hours after that nasty confrontation with Miguel, A starving Y/N emerges from her room. She looks around as to see if she would see Miguel, but she ultimately decides that he has very much retired to his room. Wherever it may be. As she walked down the halls, she didn't notice the sound of giggling coming from behind a curtain.
“Miles nooo, stay away” 
“Ok but I just wanna hug, Gwen” “Miles, the last time you hugged me, you literally burned my feathers” she says with a sigh. Miles sighs and just pouts “It’s not my fault you got turned into a feather duster, ok?” Gwen rolls her eyes and chuckles at his antics. Miles then looked up as he heard the sound of footsteps and his flame burst a bit more “Hey look !!” he says pointing at Y/N “she emerged !!” He left Gwen in a hurry as he quickly hopped his way to Y/N as he followed her to the kitchen. In the kitchen, Peter was putting Mayday to sleep in the cupboard. Once she fell asleep, Peter closed the cupboard only to spot the cook, who was angrily huffing his stove top with fire as he whined over his cooking going to waste. Peter sighed “shh, come on I just put the little one to sleep, it’s been a long day.” Lyla however hops in and sighs “Honestly, I think she was just being headstrong, I mean...Miguel did say PLEASE” Peter sighs and says, “Really Lyla? you know that Miguel has a temper…and if he doesn’t control it, things won’t work out for him.” 
They were interrupted when Y/N walked in. “Hey, you showed up, a little late but that counts!” Peter says. Lyla turns around and greets her “Hello, I don’t think we properly introduced ourselves, I'm Lyla, you already know Peter of course, and in the back over there trying to get everyone in check is Jess and-” Miles butted in the conversation as he smiled at Y/N “and I’m Miles, nice to meet you senorita” he says wiggling his eyebrows. Jess waddled over smiled at Y/N “If you need anything to make your stay more comfortable just tell us honey” “Well ....I am hungry,” Y/N says with a sheepish smile. Peter grins and starts directing the kitchen to quickly cook something up for her. Lyla escorts her to the dining room, while Jess sighs “ok, but we have to be as quiet as possible, or else Miguel will flip. Miles just hops around happily as he says “aw come on, we gotta get Pav here! Actually, Imma go get him” he says as he hops off out the kitchen. 
A little while later, Miles came back with a large piano, “come on Pav, you haven’t played for someone in forever!” Pav smiles as he warms up quickly playing his keys “yep i’m all good” Jess walks in and spots him “Please…play quietly” Pav looks at Jess with the biggest stank face he has gave her “oh no yea..sure..softly… are there ANY more tasteless remarks to my artistry?” Jess says no and walks off back into the kitchen. In the dining room, Y/N was quietly sitting until she saw Miles come up to the table with a smile. He signals to Gwen who’s hovering over the window with a mirror to create a form of stage lights. Pavitir is playing his tunes, and Miles looks at her and smiles happily “It is our pride and pleasure that we all welcome you here tonight. Stay seated in your chair as you relax, enjoy what you see, as the dining room proudly presents…. your dinner!” Y/N smiles in amazement at all of the food that has been placed on the table, she had never seen so many foods from different regions in such a long time. If she had to be honest, it was better than the cooking she had seen from the local restaurant back at the village. She was handed a napkin by Miles, and she took it and placed it onto her lap to catch any food that would hypothetically stain her dress and fall to the floor. Each dish was kind enough to explain to her what each dish was. She had some gray stuff, Beef ragout, Chilaquiles, Asopao de Pollo, Arepas, Mofongo, Congri, Tequenos, Tostones, Pupusas, Camarones al ajillo, Quesadillas, and even Enchiladas. She had never tasted such a culinary cabaret in her life before. As Y/N ate, she chatted with Miles for a bit as he told her how it has been 10 years since they had a guest like her. She chatted with Gwen a bit and found out she’s the feather duster that snuck into her suite while she was busy crying to collect the dust that was piling up. She learned that Lyla is actually a relative of Miguel and learned about all the staff as well. Y/N found herself creating a friendly bond amongst the staff as she happily ate to her heart’s delight. Peter came in after a while on his serving cart with some tea for her to drink “one lump or two?” he asked. Y/N giggled “Just one please” She takes a cup and sips it as she sighed in content as the soothing flavor of the tea. 
After Y/N ate her fill she clapped in awe “this was wonderful, please give my compliments to the chef!” Jess smiled at her from a distance and looked at her minute and hour hand. “Oh dear, look at the time…it seems to me we should all get some sleep” She approaches Y/N and tries to escort her back. “Oh, but Jess…after such a meal, I can’t just go to sleep, besides it is my first time in such an enchanted castle...” Jess nervously laughed and looked around trying to divert her attention, “oh why who would say such a thing..I mean-” Lyla hopped in and heard what they said “Yyyyyeeeaaa…. totally not enchantteeeddd” she says to Y/N. Jess turns around to look at l
Lyla and muttered “it better not have been you” Lyla looked at her in shock at her accusations and was definitely going to retaliate until Y/N diffused the situation. “Oh guys please…I figured it out myself...” she says with a smile. She then gets up from the chair and approaches the door “I hope you both don’t mind If I look around, if that’s okay” Lyla perked up and hopped to her “wanna tour girlie ?” “AH AH AH…. we can’t let her... She might you know... go someplace else?” Jess says sternly. Y/N giggles as she looks down at Jess’s frown “aww come on, I bet you know a lot about the castle…how about if you tell me all about it?” Jess sighs as she gives in “alright then...”  —----------------------------------------------------------------------------
An hour later…
Jess was happily giving her knowledge of the castle, adding her expertise and explaining how old the castle truly was. She gave some stories on how she lived in the castle, as well as her years of service. Y/N looked around in awe as she marveled at each painting and each intricate design of the castle. It might have looked scary at first, but now that she’s taking a closer look. The castle itself is truly beautiful.  They passed by a hall of empty armor, each head turning around to take a peek at Y/N, finding her curiosity quite charming. Jess heard the squeaks of the rusty armor and turned around and with a silent hiss “Turn Around”
She looked back to her direction and noticed that Y/N was nowhere to be seen. Jess wanders around until she spots her trying to go up the west wing. “Lyla damnit go stop her !” Lyla notices and hops as quickly as she could to stop Y/N from going any further, Jess running along behind her. The two eventually reach Y/N and stand in front of her making halt gestures. “What’s up there?” she asked. Sheepish smiles were both seen on both women’s faces as they try to make up some excuses.
 “Oh nothing there just storage, Rubbish, Dusty, Boring, absolutely nothing in the west wing” Lyla says Y/N chuckles as she was able to trick them and says in a coy voice “Oh so THAT'S, the west wing” Jess groans in frustration and looks at Lyla “nice going idiot...” Y/N keeps on staring up the stairs as she wonders what Miguel is truly hiding in the west wing.  The two women then started blabbering as they started to try and convince her to go and see the library. She nods and slowly follows them until she notices that they sped so quickly that they were almost down the hall. She took this opportunity and quickly tiptoed up the stairs and into the West Wing.
The more she went up the stairs, the more she noticed how the hallway had cracks, claw marks, shattered mirror pieces, and broken gargoyle statues. Y/N looked around a little concerned and debated if she should stop. However, her curiosity got the best of her nature, and she kept on going. She eventually made it to the top and walked down a hall to two double doors. “This must be Miguel’s room” she whispered to herself. Y/N looks back behind her just in case Jess followed her but didn’t see anyone. With a deep breath she slowly opened the doors and walked in to see an almost dilapidated room. Everything was broken or at least about to shatter. “Probably from his anger issues” she says softly to herself. After walking inside and looking around she spots a portrait, she slowly approaches it to see claw marks on it. She couldn’t make out who the man painted in the portrait is, but she could tell that he was handsome, but what struck her the most was his piercing crimson eyes. 
She then turned around to notice the window completely open and a table with a mirror and a beautiful glowing rose. Amazed at its beauty she took the glass encasing off of the rose and watched how it sparkled, it was mesmerizing. Y/N then reaches a hand to touch the rose but stops as she feels a shadow loom over her. She looked up and gasped in shock to see Miguel.  He angrily huffed at her and snarled as he quickly made his way to reach for the rose’s glass encasing and protectively covered it. Miguel then slowly looked at Y/N with such rage in his eyes and blocks her from the rose “Porque Viniste” Y/N slowly stepped back as she raised her arms to protect herself from harm without realizing. “I’m..I’m Sorry” she says softly. Miguel growled and rolled his eyes “Sorry? I warned you to NEVER COME HERE” Y/N flinched and moved back even more “I didn’t mean any harm; I Apologize if I offended you” Miguel enraged clenched his paw into a fist “DO YOU REALIZE WHAT YOU COULD HAVE DONE?” He takes his anger on a broken chair and punches it. “I- No, Please, stop” she said worriedly. 
“LARGATE DE AQUI” 
Y/N didn’t hesitate and ran out as quickly as she could. Miguel raged and punched anything in his sight that was breakable in his room. His eyes widened as he realized he scared her off again. His heart ached at his own actions, and he lowered his head in shame feeling just awful about himself and worried for her...
Y/N on the other hand has made a run for it and somehow found her coat as she was running down the stairs. Miles was playing chess with Pav and spotted Y/N running “HEY, Y/N!! Where are you going ?!” Y/N looked back at them and fearfully said “Promise or not, I can’t stay here for another minute!” She left the castle and, in a hurry, looked around for the stables and found her dear old Felipe, despite the heavy blizzard that was occurring outside she managed to saddle him up and rode him away and out of the castle grounds into the black forest. 
After a while of horseback, she realized that she had no idea where to go, everything was covered in snow. Felipe whinnied and panicked as he fidgeted left and right where to go. Y/N tried to calm the horse down but gasped in terror when realizing there was a pack of hungry and vicious wolves ready to hunt them for their next meal. Felipe regained his control and immediately turned back to the castle’s direction to run away from the wolves. Y/N grasped tightly onto the reins and tried maneuvering Felipe through the woods. The wolves nipped at Felipe’s legs, and he would only run faster. Y/N was hyper focused in getting away that she didn’t completely register the frozen lake in front of her. The two fell in with a splash in the icy water, Y/N kept on holding onto the reins and Felipe quickly swam to the other side, the wolves still following behind. Eventually the other half of the pack caught up to both Y/N and Felipe in the front and spooked them, Y/N fell off the horse’s back and Felipe’s reins got stuck onto a tree branch. 
Y/N quickly got up from the snowy ground and found the nearest thick stick that she could find and stood in front of Felipe to help protect him. She swung the stick left and right, battling the canines on her own, but the stick was split in half when one of the wolves' sharp teeth gnawed into it. Y/N stood there in shock not knowing what to do..she was about to get eaten along with her beloved horse. A wolf leaped out of nowhere and took a bite of her coat, throwing her off her balance and making her fall to the ground. She screamed in terror, as another wolf leaped at her ready to bite. Until she heard a loud thud from the wolf’s body and a loud roar. She looked up and saw Miguel who stood beside her and protected her with his large body on top of her. He then jumped away from her leading the wolves far from her reach and fought them on his own, he scratched, bit, he harmed, and almost killed. 
The wolves, intimidated by his dominant presence, whimpered and scurried away from him.  Miguel let out one final growl until he looked directly at Y/N, his eyes showed relief that she was fine, but quickly rolled behind his head as he weakly fell down onto the cold icy ground. He was bleeding with many bites and scratches from the wolves. He panted heavily as the pain from his wounds slowly enveloped him. Y/N was going to take advantage to run away but stopped…she would be no better than a crude human to leave him out there. He saved her life…and she owed him. She slowly walked away from Felipe and kneeled down to Miguel and whispered. “Hey, I know it hurts…but you have to help me...” 
She was able to somehow get Miguel to stand up and mount the horse. His body however limped on it as he was too weak to sit properly on the horse. Y/N bit her lip in worry as she took off her coat and wrapped it over Miguel’s wound. 
Y/N slowly united Felipe’s reins from the tree branch and slowly led him back to the castle.
With the beast on his back.
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taglist: @cupcakeinat0r , @miguelhugger2099, @mcmiracles, @xxsugarbonesxx,@codenameredkrystalmatrix,@deputy-videogamer,@lxverrings,@miguelzslvtz,@itsameclinicaldepression,,@ricekrisbris,@loser-alert , @thedevax, @uncle-eggy, @m4dyy, @freehentai, @synamonthy, @razertail18, @s0lm1n, @badbishsblog, @faimmm, @keendreamknight, @texanadmirer, @stargirrls, @itzsab
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abbyromanoff · 9 months
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I've got a request. Not really sure about the details, but I'm sure you could work that out, being the amazing writer that you are :)
It's a really vague idea, I guess, but something along the lines of wanda being a fallen angel who has sided with heaven, and Nat being a fallen angel who has sided with hell. They both fall for Fem! Reader and try to get them to support their respective sides
Let me know if this isn't something you're comfortable with writing. Thank you so much :)
YOUR DECISION
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PAIRINGS: Wanda Maximoff x reader, Natasha Romanoff x reader
WORD COUNT: 2,704
WARNINGS: R cheating (not really), making out, “bad boy” Nat, church girl!Wanda, self-homophobia, hidden relationships, Wanda cheating on vision, love affairs, love triangle, small sexual themes, think that’s all :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
“C’mon, can’t you stay the night just this once?” The redhead begged, holding your hand in order to keep you close. She tried pulling you closer to no avail as you started gathering your clothes.
“You know I can’t, Nat.” She groaned, flopping back on the bed and exposing part of her nude body. You bit your lip, forcing your gaze off of her before you did end up listening to her.
“My parents think I’m still at the library, they’ll be pissed if they find out I’m here.” Nat wasn’t known greatly around the area, mainly for her delinquent acts that got her into multiple jail cells. In your eyes, she was just misunderstood, nobody saw the side of her that you did. She was soft, a sweetheart who just wanted to find her person, but she already knew that person was you.
But then there was Wanda, the priest's daughter and your childhood best friend. You knew of her feelings for you, yet you tried to deny they existed. You liked her in more ways that you wish you did, but she wasn’t out yet, and she probably never would be. And she had a boyfriend, Vision. She didn’t seem to have a true interest in him, only one that she’d make up and exaggerate so someone would believe her when she said she loves him.
“Just tell them you’re sleeping over a friend’s. Tell them it’s Wanda, aren’t you guys like, I don’t know, best friends?” She pulled you down to sit on her lap, her hands holding you close by your waist. You smiled down at her and debated the option in your mind, was it worth the risk? Anything was worth it when it came to her, but you truly couldn’t stay.
“I wish I could, I do.” She pouted playfully, soon feeling your fingers turning her lips upward.
“Turn that frown upside down, I want to see you smile.” She gripped you just a bit tighter, hoping to keep you in her grasp forever.
“How am I supposed to be happy when you’re leaving me?” You rolled your eyes at her antics, slapping her shoulder with no real indication to cause pain. She threw an overplayed gasp your way in response.
“How about this, I go home tonight, but next weekend I’ll convince my parents to let me stay the night at a ‘friends’ house?” Your statement seemed to bring her slight joy as a grin made its way to her face. She leaned in to kiss you, muttering words between each one.
“As long as I have you, baby.” You got home with multiple different texts from two women: Wanda and Natasha. The redhead was telling you how much she missed you already and how she couldn’t wait to see you again while Wanda had been asking why you weren’t answering her calls. You sighed, running your fingers through your hair as you decided to ring the woman, hearing her voice on the other end of the line only seconds after.
“Where have you been?! I’ve been calling you for an hour!”
“Relax, I was at the library.” You could tell she didn’t believe you, you were best friends after all, she knew every lie you told.
“You know lying is a sin, Y/N.” She teased, and you could hear the sound of her clothes hitting the floor. She was most likely changing, yet you couldn’t help the less innocent thoughts from approaching.
“Were you with Nat again?” She knew of your unlabeled relationship with the troublemaker and openly expressed her hatred towards it. But you didn’t care to listen, too drunk on her love to think of anything else. You were first using her as a way to get over Wanda, but then you caught feelings. Nat made hers pretty obvious, she wanted something with you, a real relationship where she could hold your hand in public and kiss you whenever, but you were both waiting for the time to be right.
“I shouldn’t even ask at this point, you’re already always there.” You could sense the annoyance floating through her voice and groaned internally. You couldn’t deal with this right now, you just wanted to get home and relax. It was dark out and you continued to look each way in fear, your legs quickening in speed the colder you felt.
“Please don’t say that, you know it’s not true.” She ended the call after a small ‘whatever’ and it dawned on you just how frustrated she seemed. It wasn’t your fault she couldn’t come to terms with herself, you were just moving on. And if she didn’t want to accept that then she didn’t have to, but you were happy with Nat, even if you didn't exactly know what you two were, it still brought excitement whenever you’d see her or touch her. Her soft skin against yours just felt right, you didn’t have a word to explain it other than that, everything just seemed to make sense when you were with her.
Your parents were instantly questioning you once you got home, but you just shut them down with the fact that finals were headed your way. They seem to understand and let you go with a deep sigh, not fully believing your hidden lie.
You decided to finally check your phone after multiple unanswered texts made their way to your screen. A small smile seemed to form on your face when reading all that Nat had to say, you didn’t understand how she and her family were known as the ‘devil of the town’ when she was so loving. All she ever did was care for you, she had changed from her old ways and turned into something so amazing and kind, yet it was reserved only for you.
“Yes, Nat?” You dragged out, resting your phone on the bedside table as you started to rid yourself of your clothing. You grabbed the shirt she had given you a few weeks back, it was a bit large and you loved it. You then put on a pair of boxers and turned off your lights before laying down in bed, feeling all of your tense muscles start to ease.
“I missed you, baby.” You chuckled and earned a groan on the other end of the line.
“Don’t laugh at me, my bed is so cold without you.” The rest of your two hours were spent quietly giggling and talking with the redhead before you fell into a deep sleep, being unable to hear the words whispered out of Nat’s mouth. She was content, all she ever wanted was you, even if she used horrid ways of showing it in the past.
“Why do you look so tired?” Wanda asked you the next morning when taking notice of your eye bags and occasional yawns. You turned to look at her, removing your attention from the man on the podium and locking it onto her.
“Couldn’t sleep.” You whispered. You hated lying to the woman, but you knew it would just bring more vexation if you were to tell the truth. She could tell there was more, but she held back. There was no point in pushing if she’d receive nothing in return.
The next hour dragged on painfully long with Wanda’s worries only continuing. She just wanted your attention the way she used to, yet yours was on another. Nat wasn’t good for you but she was, she just didn’t seem to understand how deep your love for her went.
“Wanda, wait.” You called out after the ceremony, watching her grab her things as she was rushing to her car. She turned to look at you, urging you to go on the closer you got to her.
“Can I talk to you? Alone?” You were surrounded by no one, seeming as most parents and their children were forced to keep conversation with the other towns folk. She didn’t speak, only giving you a curt nod before opening the back door. She came with her parents just like she had done for her entire 19 years of living. It was just easier.
She signaled for you to get in and you did, following behind her as she smoothed out her dress on the seat.
“Mom and Dad should be out soon, they won’t mind if you come over.” Her parents loved you, even taking to ask where you had been ever since the distance between you and Wanda grew. You wanted to see the woman, but it seemed as though she didn’t want to see you.
“Hey, Y/N! We were wondering where you’ve been!” Her mother cheerfully pitched with a smile that you shared. A small conversation grew between the three of you, yet the daughter stayed silenced. Even when you arrived at your destination her mouth didn’t open. It wasn’t until she opened her bedroom door for you both that she finally spoke, it felt relaxing to finally hear her voice in person again. It felt like forever since you did, even if it was only a few minutes.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” She refused to look at you, knowing it would be too hard on her.
“I think you know, Wands.” The nickname brought a saddened smile to her face that quivered, it was one full of memories and lost time.
“I know you found out months ago about my feelings for you, but I didn’t think it would ruin our friendship.” You stalked behind her, noticing the nervous twitching of the rings on her fingers. You grabbed them, interlacing your hand with hers as she released a deep breath.
“I’m not mad at you for that.” You turned her around gently so she would face you, the soft features on her face bringing a longing that you wished to fill.
“Then what is it? Tell me what I did wrong so I can fix this, so I can fix us.” You wanted her to admit the feelings she had been harboring for so long, it had been gnawing at her for months, even before she knew of your shared love.
“Please, Wanda. I love you too much to lose you.” You begged, and it nearly brought tears to the woman’s eyes. The same eyes you found yourself often lost in, just admiring her beauty that you cherished greatly.
“I’m not mad at you for liking me, I’m upset because you never did anything.” She finally spoke so quietly that you almost didn’t hear her. Even with your knowledge of her growing crush, the words still sent shivers down your spine and caused your face to falter.
“I-“
“Please don’t say anything, this is already embarrassing enough.” For a split second, you worried over the possibility of her parents barging in, but it soon faded the closer you got to Wanda. She tried to scurry out of your hold, only to feel your arms on her waist, locking her in place.
“Look at me. Please look at me, sweetheart.” She couldn’t meet your eyes without taking notice of your lips that were nearly begging to be pecked. She wanted to be the one to do so, and knowing Nat was instead only caused more jealousy to rise to the surface. Her high school bully, the woman who tormented her every move and every step, the one who sent her crying into your arms was now the one holding you; how was that fair? Every aspect of her life was taken from none other than Natasha Romanoff, now she was stealing her one true love as well, and she couldn’t let that be. She couldn’t let you kiss her, hold her, make love to her without you knowing that she could be the replacement, that she had been aching to be yours since she met you.
She didn’t understand the thoughts at the time, but that all changed when she was allowed access to the internet. She was scared to search for the reasoning, afraid her parents might catch sighting and discipline her for her curiosity. Although, the results only brought more shame than her mother or father ever could, she liked you. And not the type most friends felt for one another, the type she was supposed to feel with a man yet felt for a woman.
“I’m sorry..”
“No, no, you don’t need to apologize. Come here.” You ushered her into a hug full of warmth, but fear was hidden beneath her barriers.
When she leaned back unwillingly, the only thing her vision could take notice of was your slightly parted lips that called her name.
“I don’t know why I feel this way, but is it bad to say I like it?” While it brought pain and sadness along with harsh reality, it felt comforting whenever she was with you. She wanted your love, but she wanted more than that. She wanted your heart, your attention, yet she felt selfish for wanting it.
“No, it’s completely normal. You can’t help who you feel, Wanda, and I would never shame you for that.” You brushed her hair behind her ear, sending a warm smile that did little to stop her. She couldn’t help it now.
Her lips had a mind of their own when they met with yours, and while you wanted nothing more than to give in and bathe in her presence, you knew you couldn’t. You leaned back, causing the woman to chase after you.
“Wanda, we can’t.”
“Why not?” She forced out rather loudly. She was the one to pull you close this time, hoping and praying that you’d listen to your heart instead of your mind, she could only hope your heart was beating for her.
“You have a boyfriend-“
“I don’t love him though, I’ve been planning to break up with him but I didn’t know how.” She argued, smiling slightly when she noticed your sight landing on her own chapstick-covered lips.
“What about Nat?”
“You two aren’t together officially, you’re allowed to speak to other people.” You both knew the lie in her words, but you were both so desperately trying to believe them.
“What if you regret it?”
“I never regret anything when I’m with you.” You paused in your tracks, letting her hand rest on your cheek as she checked the door one last time.
“This is wrong-“
“Then why does it feel so right?” You couldn’t stop your mouth from pressing against hers with hunger and desire. Your thumb drew circles against her side as the tension in her muscles lowered, her brain shutting down and her lips moving according to yours.
“I love you, Y/N.” She muttered against your lips before diving back in for more.
“I love you too, Wands.” You followed, letting the two of you sit on the bed as you forced yourself to let go and dwell in the comfort of your best friend.
Later that evening when you left the home, a smile planted on your face as you waved your goodbye’s to the family, sharing a small glance with the redhead before closing the door behind you, you were immediately hit with the guilt of your actions. Nat had been texting you, begging for you to visit her due to how badly she missed you. There were at least ten messages along with three missed calls, her fears only rising as she knew you’d never leave your phone unattended.
“I love you, my beautiful girl.” Read one of her texts, and it pained you to acknowledge the fact that she knew nothing of your shared activities with the other woman.
“I love you more, Nat.” You wrote back once easing her worries, but developing more of your own. You loved both women equally. Even if Natasha had a bad past, you still loved her. And even if Wanda refused to come to terms with herself, you still loved her. How could you ever face them again knowing the truth?
Wanda thought Nat was bad, but she had no idea that the person she just spent the entire afternoon with and most of her years fawning over was even worse.
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jar-of-something-else · 9 months
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LET THESE FREAKS FUCK NASTY!!
i'm sick and flipping tired of nobody letting heavy, pyro, or scout be insane and it's my american right to make it happen (this is for the anon that wanted mean pyro and for another anon that wanted heavy) (scout is for me)
under the cut obvs!!
WARNINGS: AFAB reader, crazy nsfw, CRINGE ASS DIALOGUE BITS!!!!! i wanted to try something new tell me if it's too gross and i'll stop and delete my whole account, mercs being MEAN!!!! also there's some russian (google translate russian) promise i'll provide translations <3
under 16 DNI !!!!!!!! please and thanks :)
Pyro:
-pyro has a neat little storage ottoman at the foot of his bed and guess what!! it's filled with sex toys!!!! who could have guessed!!!!!
-he's got a very wide variety of items 'cause he likes to keep it crazy; these items are included but not limited to: icy-hot (for temp play), handcuffs of many varieties, non-abrasive rope (for comfort), insane amounts of phallic rubber items (and glass he doesn't care) and just so so many more
-obvi the rope is used to tie you up but it's less shibari and more just restricting your movements by tying you to the bed/tying your arms and legs together
-obviously not the biggest talker (at least not anything you can understand), so whenever he wants to humiliate or degrade you, he'll grab your jaw and make you look into the goggles on his mask (it's a little scary) while he does whatever the hell to you
-not above teasing you in public and on the battlefield, he gets a laugh out of it
-touching a little more on the waxplay thing, pyro has a variety of candlesticks as well as regular candles in the jar containers. usually, he lets the ones in the jar burn for a bit until there's a pool of wax that he uses to cover larger areas on you, and the candlesticks are burnt while he drips the wax across your body
-into the idea of exhibitionism, hence the willingness to get you going in public areas, but he wouldn't actually want another person there during actual sex
-voyeurism on the other hand he is 100% down for
-wouldn't want to permanently damage you or anything, but pyro does like to use matches or a lighter to burn you just a teeny tiny little bit
Heavy:
-oh lord
-in my personal opinion, i think heavy is around 7 feet tall and 360-400 pounds so he's a BIG FUCKING GUY and obviously that's gonna translate to his dick
-more girth compared to length but sweet baby jesus it doesn't really matter at this point dude is SCARY big
-if you don't stop him (or if your begging doesn't get to him), he could prep you for hours on end. he wants to make sure he doesn't hurt you but another part of him very much enjoys overstimulating and making you beg for him to do something else
"Ты думаешь, что готов, маленький зайчик? Я не согласен. Мой член слишком велик для тебя." (you think you are ready little bunny? i disagree. my cock is just too big for you.)
-when heavy does finally decide to fuck you for real he goes wayyy too slow; he tells you it's for you to adjust but he just keeps dragging it out to tease you even more
-due to the whole "lets drag this thing out as long as possible" experience, it could lead to a lot of overstimulation. naturally, heavy's response to this is to just edge you until you're so desperate that you can't see straight
-like i mentioned in my first nsfw post, heavy has a BIG ASS breeding kink. he won't tell you (unless you know russian) but he does refer to himself as daddy when/if you let him cum inside you; he just thinks it's embarrassing after the fact and he doesn't wanna tell you
"Ты был так хорош для папы, ты заслуживаешь награды." (you've been so good for daddy, you deserve a reward)
Scout:
-my favorite part of the whole post !!!
-very very fast paced (obviously) and does enjoy slightly disorienting you with the speed he does things. whether he's fingering you, eating you out, or actually fucking you he makes sure to speed up as a little surprise
-sometimes he'll go hard enough to make his (or your) bed frame rock against the wall and he will rub it in the other mercs faces if someone knocks on the door to get you guys to shut up
"Oh wassat? You jealous I'm gettin' laid and you're not? Take that shiny bald head of yours and shove it up your ass, pal, I'm a little busy in here!" (could be talking to heavy or engineer you choose)
-i mentioned scout calling himself daddy in my last post (which IS canon i double checked) and it just got me thinkin so hard....he doesn't let you call him by his real name while he's fucking you, otherwise he'll stop what he's doing completely until you say it
"I don't know much about dis Jeremy guy you keep talkin' about, but it's startin' ta piss me off how often you're sayin' his name. Why don't you tell me who's really fuckin' ya this well, huh doll? Go ahead n' say it fa daddy." (i tried to write out his accent i love it so much but i'm so sorry to boston)
-whenever spy is out on a mission and you and scout are back at base he will sneak into spy's smoking room with you and fuck there. scout doesn't appreciate the subtle flirts he sees spy send your way, so he likes to give him a little reminder of who you chose to be with (even if it's in the form of cum stains on spy's velvet couch)
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underoospeterparker · 10 months
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𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧
summary: you and jj have similar family situations, but you've never been able to tell him. but when you're left bruised and battered, he's the only person you can think to go to.
warnings: ABUSE, violence, description of cuts, bruises, black eyes, swearing, angsty but with comfort
𓆉‧₊˚✩
you clutched at your bruised and bleeding face, a black eye already forming and a cut completely covering your cheek.
it wasn’t the first time. it had been much worse before, but not as visible as it was this time. you’d guessed he was just too drunk to even care anymore.
you were limping, trying to get to the chateau. you were completely frightened at the idea of your dad being able to catch up with you, even though he was most likely still passed out on the couch.
climbing up the porch steps, you hesitated before opening the door. you didn’t want to your boyfriend to worry. after all, jj had faced much worse than this and he would still want to take care of you, just like you had him.
but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell anyone what was happening. you hoped nobody was home when you finally let yourself in, making your way to the bathroom.
“y/n?” jj’s voice called out from the living room. “is that you?” shit. he’d already heard you, and there was no way that you could hide this from him.
when you didn’t respond, he grew worried. “sweetheart?” he said again, his voice becoming closer.
as soon as your boyfriend saw you, he smiled, making his way over to you. he turned on the light and then his face fell in less than a second.
rushing to you, he gently cupped your face in his calloused hands, eyes hardening at you being hurt. “who did this?” he asked, a dangerous tone in his voice.
you pulled away reluctantly. “nobody, j.” you plastered a fake smile on your face. “just accidentally banged my head, you know.”
you winced as the lie came out. it was so unbelievable, and your boyfriend knew better.
he slowly guided you to the couch, helping you to sit down. “please, princess,” he murmured. “tell me.”
your eyes dropped to the floor, tearing up already. “my dad,” you whispered, forcing yourself to look at him.
you watched as the look in his eyes moved from questioning to understanding to rage. your tears finally slipped and he softened, tilting your chin up to look at you.
“i’m so sorry,” he said, thumbing away your tears as best as he could. and that was all he could say, really. he knew what it was like, and there were no words to describe the immense pain he knew you were going through right now.
so he just held you tightly to his chest, careful of your bruises, stroking your hair and murmuring that it was all going to be okay.
he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, then unlinked your body from his to pull himself away.
you whimpered, nervously clutching at his arm. you thought he was leaving you, and realisation clicked in his eyes before he grabbed your hands. “i’m not going anywhere,” he promised. “just going to get john b's kit, okay?”
you nodded, and he reached for you to give you a kiss, comforting you without words.
he returned in a second, immediately taking his place next to you on the sofa. he first tended to your face, rage filling up within him every time you would groan or wince in pain.
he let you play with his hand, never once complaining about your nails leaving crescent moons on his palm. anything to help with the pain. if he could help take your pain away from you, he’d do it in a second.
“are you hurt anywhere else, sweetheart?” he asked softly, placing a bandage on the cut on your hand and then bringing it to his lips.
“yeah,” you mumbled. “stomach area, i think.”
his eyes held nothing but care and worry for you. he gently reached for the bottom of your shirt, murmuring a soft, “can i?”
you nodded, watching him flinch at the sight of the bruises littering your body. “fuck,” he said, forcing himself to meet your eyes. “how long has this been going on?”
you hesitated, and he lightly prodded you. giving up, you said, “couple months.”
you could see the pain in his eyes. “why didn’t you tell me?”
pausing slightly, you murmured, "guess i was scared." recognition dawned on his face and he had never related to you as much as he had in that moment.
"y'know i'd never hurt you," he said, but it was more like a question.
"i know," you responded, letting him patch you up. when he was finally done, he kissed every single one of your cuts and bruises, making you blush.
you buried your head into his chest, where you finally felt like you were safe. "your arms feel like home," you mumbled, drifting off to sleep already.
now it was his turn to blush, and he smiled at your sleepy comment. he murmured a soft, "i love you," before heading off to sleep himself.
𓆉‧₊˚✩
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1000sunnygo · 4 months
Text
One Piece Academy chapter 40: Cora san part 2 (Quick translation)
source | part 1 | index
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Sanji: Huh..? Aren't you...?
Luffy: Who?
Nami: Luffy! We've just seen this guy in a photo a while ago!
He's Corazon!!
Cora: Guh..!
*tap tap*
Nami: Ah, he's running!
*wham*
Nami: Ah, he fell ;;
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Cora: Law, what's the meaning of this? How did this place get busted?!
Law: I'm in a state of shock myself... I swear I wasn't being tailed by anyone.
You guys, how did you...?
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Robin: Underestimated our skill of gaining intel, haven't you?
Sanji: You did a good job hiding your tracks, but...
[flashback]
Luffy: Traffy... he's totally gone, huh.
Bart: Ah, Luffy senpai! It's been a while beh!
Luffy: Oh? Isn't that Romeo!
Do y'all know Traffy's place?
Bart: Naa I don't.. Gambia, do you?
Gambia: I dunno. Lemme ask my granma at home.
Gambia: Helloo, granma! Do you know where Trafalgar Law lives?.. Hmm, hmm... oh?
*pulls up a map*
Gambia: She says he lives here! Even gave us details on how to enter!
Bart: Granma really has all the wisdom beh~!
Luffy: COOL!! Thanks!!
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Cora: THIS IS WAYY BEYOND THE REALM OF WISDOM THOUGH!!
Usopp: She also said, "if you're worried about the doorknob's prickly static shock, just touch the wall with your palm first."
Law: So she shared some real wisdom too? That damned Bartolomeo!
Zoro: A man believed to be missing is here, 'hiding' so nobody can find him - so it seems.
Corazon:...!
Since I got busted already, I guess there's no going back.
*cracks knuckles*
I'll make sure to make you feel at home.
Coby: Woah!
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Law: DON'T START A RICEBALL PARTY!!
Luffy: What flavor is that one, Corao?
Cora: That's umeboshi! Law hates it.
Law: Cora san... ;
Cora: It's okay, Law..
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Cora: After all, the only visitors we get in this home far from the town are Bepo and team. And that's just Law's pals.
Law: They're... not exactly pals...
Cora: That said, it's not like someone is expected to live here. The entrance is far down some secret underground passage. We buy our groceries from the neighboring Swallow city.
*clang*
Nami: Why all these secrecy?
Coby: Where are you going?
Cora: Follow me! I'll show you.
Luffy: Traffy's place seems fun!
Law: Make sure not to ravage it.
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Cora: This is.. The Doflamingo countermeasure Headquarters.
Nami: The Doflamingo countermeasure Headquarters?
Luffy: That's a lot of Mingo!
Cora: You get the gist of a secret opposing faction, don't you?
In short, we call it "Vs Doff.." "Quarters.." well, something.
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And not just Doflamingo, we collect information about the Family executives.. Even about the Onigashima middle school.
I investigate here everyday.. *tapping some keys*
And think of countermeasures.
<bzzzzz>
Coby: YOU JUST SHUT IT DOWN!
Cora: Crap, I blew it up again...
Nami: Cora chan, might you be a bit clumsy?
Cora: I have always been a clutz. It doesn't get better.
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Vivi: We know that Doflamingo is a bad guy who needs to be stopped.. But do you, as his brother, have any specific reason for your action?
Cora: As his younger brother, my goal is...to prevent my older brother Doffy from falling into the dark world.
Brook: Dark..
Chopper:... World?
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Cora: Do you know what they call Doffy in the town?
Coby : I'm pretty sure it's Joker, "The Town's Charisma"....
Cora: He's a regular hot topic among young admirers, my brother's got that talent in him. But..
He's being approached by the people from the dark world - meaning the Bad adults, as they observed those qualities.
To be honest, brother does have the predisposition and ideas for 'evil.' He's already a bad guy, you can't call him good even as a flattery.
Zoro: Will he remain as the Town's Charisma, or become a Charismatic Evil?
If it's the latter, that'd be way more serious that being just a bad, flawed person...
CONTINUES IN REBLOG ⬇️
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mattitties · 4 months
Note
can u plz do a fluff fanfic about the reader being scared of thunder and there's a rlly loud thunder storm so matt has to comfort her? thanks :)
thunder - matt sturniolo
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“Really? I love when it storms. I think it’s so peaceful and I can just curl up and watch a movie or something,” Matt tells me. It’s our second date and we’re in the “biggest fears” category, and I told him about my extremely irrational, but very severe, fear of storms. 
“I get that,” I reply. “It’s really not that I’m just scared of storms, my best friend’s house was struck by lightning and caught on fire when we were in high school, so it kind of just set something off in my head. I know it sounds stupid because it didn’t happen to me, but it just started this crazy fear.”
“Oh wow, that’s terrifying. No, I totally get it, it’s not stupid.”
As I sit with my knees tucked to my chest on my bathroom floor, I think back to that conversation from three months ago. It’s the first storm I’ve experienced since I moved to LA, and I’m a mess. My windows are rattling with each clap of thunder, and all I can think about is my roommate at work right now. She enjoys storms, but my anxiety is getting the best of me thinking about everything that could go wrong. 
What if she can’t make it to her car? What if she gets in an accident on the way home? What if I’m stuck here for the rest of the night by myself?
She’s the only person I’ve got here in LA. I had Matt, but then I fucked it all up right on our two month anniversary.
I was so ridiculously busy with work and what felt like 800 pounds of shit piling up in my life that I completely forgot about our anniversary. I stood him up at the dinner that he made reservations for, and subsequently didn’t go to the hockey game that he was going to surprise me with; the hockey game which he got $300 tickets for. 
I apologized profusely and told him I would do anything to make it up to him, and he told me he was just really disappointed and needed some space before we talked again.
He called me a couple days later and I didn’t answer because I was so ashamed and embarrassed I couldn’t even face him. 
He texted me, I never replied. After three days of missed calls and texts, I guess he got the message because he stopped trying.
A week after that, I texted him apologizing for everything and explained my intentions behind my actions.
He didn’t answer. I don’t blame him.
That was three weeks ago, and it’s been radio silence on both ends. I guess we’re really done, but I really, really need him right now.
I turn on the shower to try to drown out some of the noise of the thunder, but nothing is working. I look at the weather app. It shows the same pattern until tomorrow morning.
I’m so fucked. I can barely breathe, my heart is beating out of my chest, and I just want to die. I’ve been texting my roommate to see when she’s returning but she’s busy at work and I’m trying not to annoy her any more than I know I have been, so now I’m just sitting in front of the shower, praying that everything would just stop.
Ten or so minutes pass, and I hear the front door open. Nobody ever comes to our apartment and my roommate always forgets her key, so I just leave it deadbolted when I’m home. I turn off the shower and call out her name to let her know I’m home, but she must not hear me. I pull myself together as much as possible and go out to the living room, but I don’t see the face I expect when I get there.
“Matt?” I whisper. I’m in such shock that nothing else comes out.
He’s absolutely drenched as he stands by the front door with a bottle of lemonade. I love lemonade.
“Hi,” he smiles shyly as he raises the hand holding the bottle. “I, uh, brought you something.”
I have no idea what to say. I opt for, “what are you doing here?”
“Well, I know how much you hate storms, so I thought you could use some company. Also… I just really miss you. And I would like to talk about us. We don’t have to do it tonight, obviously, but–”
“Yes. Yes, we can talk. Tomorrow? We can get breakfast? My treat,” I say, sounding pathetically desperate, but this is all I’ve wanted for the past three weeks.
“Okay,” he says as he takes off his shoes. “Do you happen to still have some of my sweatshirts and sweatpants? I’m kinda…” he says, motioning to the water dripping off of him.
“Yes! In my room, come.” He follows me to my room and I give him his clothes that I’ve worn an embarrassing amount of times since we broke up. “You didn’t have to come tonight,” I tell him. “This is really, just… I don’t deserve this after what I did.”
He waves a hand at me as if to say forget about it. “We’ll talk about that tomorrow. And I did have to come. Because I care about you, and I know you wouldn’t want to be alone tonight.”
I’m about to cry. I really don’t deserve this guy. 
“Let me go change, then we can crack open that lemonade and cuddle and watch something. Sound good?” he asks.
All I can do is nod in response as I watch him smile before he goes to the bathroom. I pour the lemonade into two glasses and set them on the bedside tables. 
When he comes back out and lays on my bed, I just stand there, wondering if he wants me to join him.
“Hello, what are you waiting for? Don’t leave me hangin!”
I smile and lay next to him, feeling more at home than ever when he pulls me into him.
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