#sorry about all the depressive shit i keep posting this week

[x-liv25-jamieswife]

Hi i read your sad Grayson hcs and can you pls make Jamie's next thanx 💕💕

sad jameson head canons

YES! i love jamie sm, he's the best brother out of the four of them. this might resemble my sad grayson hcs post bc i find them quite similar at their core (i'm gonna make a post about that someday). again, trigger warning for self-harm and suicidal thoughts/attempts. pls don't read this if these things trigger you. i also got kind of tired near the end so the last ones aren't as good as the first ones. hope you like them<3

jameson used to watch his brothers and wonder if he actually belonged in the family with them.

he has random scars all over his body. he tells people they're from his many risky adventures but, in reality, they're self harm scars.

jameson, instead of denying himself food and water like grayson when gets self destructive, just does all of the risky shit he can come up with hoping one of those things would kill him.

when he was 16, he bought pills he was planning on overdosing on. on the day he was supposed to go through with it, though, nash surprised him with a day trip to the beach with his brothers. he had so much fun, he completely forgot about his plans. (there was a smiliar hc in the grayson post i think, but i actually think it might fit jamie better cause gray would feel like he couldn't leave all of his responsibilities behind)

he would use the shards of broken alcohol bottles he broke on purpose to cut himself.

when he gets mad at himself or anxious, he'll pull at his hair really roughly.

grayson once told him to kill himself as a joke, but jamie took it to heart and that's the reason why he has that really long scar on his chest (gray is basically the reason he jumped off of that cliff repeatedly until tobias caught him) (sorry grayson stans i still love gray though)

people who asked him out on dates always broke it off weeks later bc they found him plain and careless (which doesn't make sense bc he's not). jamie put everything he had in these relationships even if they only lasted like a week. they offered him nothing.

i mentioned this in my sad grayson hc post, but i feel like it applies to jamie more; jamie pisses people off on purpose to anger them and make them leave when he gets self-destructive. he secretly hopes someone will see through the act but they never do (except for avery, he doesn't treat her like shit though, but she knows when he does it to others)

jamie, as a kid, was convinced smth was wrong with him. he'd look in the mirror for hours on end wondering why it was so hard for people to love him and truly see him (and for him to love himself).

jamie saw a therapist for a while who prescribed him anti-depressants. she insisted he come back for more visits bc she was afraid he would off himself but he never did.

jamie wants help but doesn't think he deserves it. he thinks he's overreacting most of the time and won't let himself get better.

although it might not look like it, jamie actually tried really hard in school to measure up to xander and gray. he would study is ass off to get grades like xander's and grayson's (he was very very good in school, but never as good as his brothers, and that made him think of himself as unworthy)

jamie's waiting for the day that avery realizes that he's not good enough for her and leaves him, but she reassures him he's stuck with her.

when he gets mad at himself, he goes to their indoor gym and punches the punching bag repeatedly until his knuckles start bleeding (and even then, he might keep going)

he also takes scalding showers as a way to hurt himself (scalding as in might burn his skin off)

he's a nail biter. he also bites the skin around his cuticles when he's feeling really shitty.

he used to listen to the way his grandfather talked to/about his brothers and think that they'd be better off without him (tobias was never as kind to jamie as he was to his brothers).

ever since thea turned everyone against him at school, he sits in the back of the school library during lunch. he looks at the people hanging out with their friends whilst they eat wishing he could be more likeable.

he used to write letters to his father and give them to tobias hoping he'd send them to his father (he never did)

multiple times, while driving, he would consider purposely getting himself in a car crash to not have to deal with himself anymore

he used to ask nash if he was a good enough brother when he was younger. nash died a little bit inside every time.

jamie sometimes sits outside gray's door, crying, wishing he could someday be enough for him (gray in the first book is actually kind of a shit brother to jamie. he acts as if jamie is lesser than him and it pisses me off)

when jamie was younger, he would show grayson things that he did that he was proud of hoping grayson would be proud of him too. grayson thought he was being annoying (i love gray, don't get me wrong but i feel like he'd do this not knowing how much it meant to jamie...)

jamie never asks for help/advice bc he thinks of himself as a burden.

he used to steal stuff when he was little bc he was desperate to have smth that was actually his and not gray's. (emily, tobias' attention, etc were never actually his) (@catapparently came up with this one)

he doesn't believe people when they tell him they love him. he thinks they're bluffing/pitying him.

jameson accepts the bare minimum from people bc he believes no one would ever be willing to give him more than scraps of love.

whenever he has panic attacks, he bangs his head on walls to try to put an end to them. he ends up with big bruises on his forehead but pretends he got them from his adventures and shit.

he used to have nightmares a lot as a kid where the people he loved left him. when he would wake up from them, he would consider looking for his brothers for comfort but he never did bc he was scared that they would make his nightmares come true.

he hates being vulnerable bc every single time he's opened up to people, they either thought he was overreacting or didn't bother staying/helping him. whenever he saw them leave he would blame himself for being too much.

he practices his fake smiles in the mirror every morning. everyone sees through them except for avery.

he has this one blanket that he got as a child that he used to talk to when he needed to vent (he wouldn't vent to his brothers cause he didn't wanna bother them). tobias thought it was childish and threw it away. jamie didn't let anyone see, but he cried every night for a full month.

he had this tradition where he would cut himself whenever tobias called him ordinary or unworthy. the amount of scars on his body just discourages him and makes him hate himself even more.

a happier jamie head canon to end this:

he used to post tutorial on youtube when he was like 7. he had some for slime making, cartwheels, sand castle building etc. he actually had quite a large following bc he was a hawthorne. he always responded to fand and followed them back. the comments he'd receive always made him super happy (same, i love receiving comments, they make my day)

i know i've said this in every sad hcs post, but i feel the need to do it again. if you ever feel like life isn't worth living or just need help in general, pls reach out to a friend or a helpline. sending lots of love to everyone <3.

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #avery grambs #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #averyjameson

[alcorian]

So, I just want to say something real quick about Wilbur Soot and the expectation fans have of all his friends to come out and immediately make statements and drop him. I particularly want to talk about Tommy because i see parallels between his relationship with Wilbur and my relationship with an adult who made me feel responsible for his wellbeing. I am not saying that their relationship is like this, just that based on what we've seen it could be, and we should be prepared to be empathetic and understanding to Tommy in case it is like this.

So some background. Starting at 13 or 14, I had a friend in his thirties who made me feel responsible for his mental health. I won't go into great detail, but I was constantly reassuring him and trying to keep him from killing himself, which was something he gave me multiple scares about. He would disappear and not respond to messages for days or weeks after posting suicide notes on his tumblr... but he was fine every time, just stepping away. Still, it scared me every time, and I felt like I hadn't been doing a good enough job helping him be happy.

I was friends with him from 13 to 16 and I felt responsible not just for his happiness, but his life.

It was so difficult to end that friendship that it took him blocking me multiple times before i could accept that he wasn't my responsibility anymore.

I defended him, let him get away with shit, let him have way more power over my life and beliefs and relationships than he should have. Because i was so toxically attached to him and believed what he told me, I seriously hurt my best friend in the whole world and I will never be able to fully express how sorry I am for it.

I'm saying this because there is evidence that Wilbur and Tommy's relationship contains similar dynamics. Wilbur has said that he relies on Tommy for his mental health. They met when Tommy was, what, 15? That's not healthy. Wilbur is an adult. I've also heard that Tommy has had to talk Wilbur down from suicide. This is extremely similar to what I experienced, and as much as it discomforts me to be seriously speculating about two ccs' relationship off-camera, I can't help but see the strong similarities to my story.

And Shelby's story corroborates this kind of behavior from Wilbur. She also was made to feel like Wilbur relied on her. For Shelby it was about his living situation--she felt like he needed her to take care of him, like he was too traumatized or depressed to take care of his own house and affairs, and if she stopped doing it it just wouldn't get done. And because she is a kind person, she didn't want to leave him like that.

This kind of behavior traps the victim in a relationship with the abuser by making them feel guilty if they try to leave or even distance themselves. It makes the victim feel like they cant hurt or go against the abuser in any way, for fear of blood on their hands, literal or metaphorical. It drives you to defend them, to try to stay by their side even as they prove themselves a terrible person.

So if Tommy isn't immediate and decisive in dropping Wilbur, I think we should be understanding. In these sorts of manipulative relationships, its really hard to speak badly of the abuser, and its hard to accept when others say they're abusive. That's an aspect of the abuse.

It took me until I was 13 to even be consciously aware of my mom doing this to me, and I only became aware of that "friend" doing it when I hadn't spoken to him in years.

This is the sort of thing that is VERY difficult to process and navigate and I think we should give Tommy, and other people close to Wilbur, some grace in navigating it. They should still drop him, but I think we should let them take some time because dropping an abuser who acts like this is very difficult, and they make it so on purpose.

#alv posts #wilbur soot #wilbur situation #abuse cw

[412foryou]

The last one.

“bless your heart, make you part of my life forever. and always.”

₊˚ pairing– sunwoo x gn!reader

₊˚ genre– hurt/comfort, fluff, friends to lovers.

₊˚ overview– sunwoo comforts you after an unpleasant event. you go for a drive in his car, in the sunset. a confession at the beach. kissing.

₊˚ word count– 3k

₊˚ warnings– depictions of feelings of anxiety/social anxiety and loneliness; self-conscious, depressive thoughts.

₊˚ notes– I'm finally giving this a try! I'm super excited to write on here!! the beautiful pictures sunwoo posted on ig made me think of the idea for this fic. I got inspired to write it while I was feeling really down myself, and even though it's pretty specific, I felt like I could share it here, in hopes that this might comfort anyone else who needs it. it took me a week to finish this, but I enjoyed every moment of it. note that this is my first fic in a while, so please be kind. I'd love to hear what you think about it!! and btw! stuff in italics is for the reader's thoughts.

like & reblog if you enjoy please <3

♪₊˚ song— tejano blue by cigarettes after s*x.

it's so loud.

you can hear the noisy chatter of the people in your group, bantering and laughing out loud.

what are they laughing so much about? are they laughing about.. about me?

you sink in your seat, hands in pockets, body slumping even more than before, aiming to merge with the chair. your eyebrows set low, unknowingly glaring at the group.

"hey, you okay?" one of them calls out, making you perk up, but you know it isn't a genuine question, so you lower your eyes, nodding briefly.

a scoff. "it's no use talking to them, they're not gonna answer you." another voice retorts, clearly tipsy. you try to pay it no mind.

it was fine before, they didn't care much. why now?

but before you can come up with an answer to your own question, your thoughts are interrupted with laughter, even louder this time.

they're laughing at me.

the discomfort that gradually began setting in since you first stepped into the building, was about to overflow. so you go to stand up and leave, while your mind imagines the remarks they could be throwing at you.

"leaving already? so boring."

"they're so weird"

"wow, that's one scary kid."

"not worth our time."

"yeah, you better leave."

real or not, it didn't make much of a difference for you. you still cared, it still bothered you, no matter how miserable that might sound. the non-spoken words sharp and piercing, biting at your skin. you brushed both of your arms up and down roughly to rid your mind of the thoughts.

it burns.

so much for trying to socialize.

you awkwardly squeeze through people crowded in groups outside, keeping your eyes on the ground, paying no mind to where you're headed.

you just need to get away from there, as far as possible, and quickly. you don't even check your surroundings, as your legs seem to be taking charge right now, shaking but not able to stop moving ahead.

I'm so embarrassing. I'm just so...

you're continuously reminded of what happened at the bar, the image seemingly stuck in your brain. the mocking laughter replaying over and over, taunting you, leaving no choice but to think about it.

why can't I just do it the way they can, what is wrong with me?

they all seem to like it.

why doesn't it come naturally to me too?

why do I have to force myself?

you walk with your head down, trying to hold in your tears. you knew this wouldn't end well, you didn't expect anything from it, and yet,

I'm pathetic. I'm disgusting. and I'm miserable.

I knew this wasn't a good idea, why did I even..

they all probably hate me now. the way I am.

I feel so sorry for myself-

there's a halt in you thoughts, as in your steps. you notice you've bumped shoulders with someone.

wait- what am I doing, where am I?

you frantically take a look around, only to find yourself in an unfamiliar place, yet again, the anxiety sets in. you have no way of telling where you are.

the sun will set soon, too. shit-

you walk around in hopes to find a way to get back to your place, maybe think of something. but, you remember-

sunwoo has my location! yes. he'll help.

you mentally thank yourself for thinking of that, taking your phone out to text your friend.

"changed my mind, come get me."

the reply is almost instantaneous, as it always is whenever it's sunwoo you're texting.

"be there in 10. stay where you are."

a sigh of relief escapes through your lips, your shoulders feeling lighter, knowing you'll be on your way soon. but you still need to-

I have to go back to that place.

reluctantly making your way back to the bar, you linger nearby, just so sunwoo can find you, but not close enough to be spotted by anyone else. pulling your hood up, you put your hands in your pockets, shifting back and forth, unable to stay still.

it's fine. it's alright now. it's over. he'll be here soon. I'm okay..

letting a big puff of air out, you try to steady your stance, your breath shaky. you lean your elbows on the railing in front of some shop, as the light from inside gives you shelter from the darkness of the street.

I wish I didn't have to be like this.

you tuck your head into your arms.

this always happens, I don't know why I thought this time would be different.

I should've never come.

I'm shameful.

I'm ashamed!

regardless of your efforts to hold back, you still feel a single stubborn tear touch your skin, staining your sleeves. a sniffle. you can't be crying like this outside,

but I've already embarrassed myself anyway.

another involuntary sniffle, and a tear on the other side of your face. it's gotten colder. a warm hand on your shoulder.

frightened, your head springs up, your eyes frantically searching for the person the hand belongs to. your body slackens in his grip. thank god. the hand on your shoulder moves to stroke your back.

"I'm here." a gentle smile.

you feel the tear streaks drying on the sides of your face in the light breeze as you look back at sunwoo. you're so drained that you feel as though you've lost the ability to form words, so you can only hope your eyes are able to relay your thoughts to him.

I'm exhausted.

sunwoo's gaze shifts between your eyes trying to gauge anything that hints at your mood. his other hand comes up to wipe your cheekbone. and it stays there, holding the side of your face.

a quiet gasp. "you're freezing! I should've been quicker. I'm sorry." he retracts his hand on your cheek. the one still on your back guides you in a certain direction, your body completely relaxed and yielding in his hold. you're safe now, sunwoo knows what to do. you know to trust him.

before you know it you feel warm again. even though the roof of sunwoo's cabriolet is folded, even though it's even colder now, even though the breeze blows rougher. the warmth seems to be spreading from within, a feeling, your heartbeat slow and steady. sunwoo buckles your seatbelt for you and closes the door.

don't go.

he rounds the vehicle to get in his seat on the other side. you knew he wouldn't leave, but

still..

"I'll pull the roof back up in a minute." he has taken off his jacket and it's now spread over your lap. "I didn't know it'd get this cold, should've thought to fix it before coming to get you." he halts his movements when he feels your hand on his arm.

I want to feel the breeze.

"you want me to leave it?" a mild nod from you, eyes downturned. he gazes back at you, eyebrows furrowed. "okay... but put the jacket on properly, the breeze is strong."

when you don't make a move to comply as he instructed, he leans over and carefully adjusts the jacket so that it covers more of you, giving you a sliver of a smile.

soon enough the blow of the wind picks up as sunwoo starts driving. you lean your head back, resting it on the headrest. the bitter gusts of wind crash into your face, turning it red, keeping you awake. you can feel the frigid air burning your skin, soothing your body. your eyelids drop to focus on the feeling as you take in a deep breath.

that feels nice.

I can breathe again.

you open your eyes and look out the window. the city lights are harsh and bright, dazzling you, making you squint, your view of them softening.

"are you cold?" asks sunwoo in a low voice. yes. but it feels good. slowly tilting your head, you face him, beyond him a glimpse of the beach.

your gaze fixes on sunwoo, eyes listless. only now taking notice of his appearance. laid back in the seat, his arm rests on the door, the other one gripping the wheel. arms bare, your eyes linger. soon enough they shift to look at his dark hair flying around with the wind. thick eyebrows set firm in concentration. eyes half lidded, but alert. you can still see the restlessness in them. he keeps stealing sideway glances at you, eager to grasp your thoughts. you pay it no mind, because..

he's so beautiful.

and most of all, his skin is glowing golden even in the dark, now illuminated scarlet as you stop at a red light. he turns his head toward you "hmm?"

ah,

you forgot he'd asked a question. that snaps you out of your dazed state effectively. blinking rapidly to rid your eyes of the haze.

shit, I got distracted.

clearing your throat, your voice raspy, "sorry. no, I'm not cold." you fidget with the sleeves of your hoodie. you hear him sigh softly. he's facing ahead again, the light green. "you.. okay?" you can hear the concern in his voice and your heart swells.

"yeah, I'm good." averting your eyes from his face, feeling sheepish.

your response doesn't seem to ease his worry, "you can talk to me, you know I don't mind. I'll listen." his words so gentle, you barely hear them.

he's so kind to me.

your eyes shift to your lap. sunwoo's jacket has slid down, and you can see your fingers picking at the skin on your hands.

why... does he treat me like this?

when other people seem to have given up on me completely?

he's too kind.

"I..." you try to form an intelligible sentence. an exhale- "I'm alright. I'm just fine.. if you're with me." you try not to look over at him. "everything sort of.. feels okay when you're here." you breathe deep, in and out. voice trembling. "I just want you to know that.. I'm thankful- for everything you do for me. even though, I don't get why you do this... I know I can be... difficult. to understand, and to talk to most of the time. I guess I'm grateful that you try. and that you've kept me with you despite.. that, I don't give anything in return. and I'm sorry." you trail off, tears welling in your eyes. "anyway, just thank you." you finish with a sniffle.

sunwoo is quiet. you're too afraid to meet eyes with him, so you keep your head down.

why isn't he saying anything?

did I make him uncomfortable?

you wipe your nose with a sleeve. another awkward sniff.

should've just stayed quiet. it wasn't even that serious..

I'm sorry for being like this.

however, before your mind can make your grey thoughts into a whirlpool and suck you in, you see colors seep into the darkness. you look up in surprise and find the source. the now setting sun seems to be casting the purple-pink light on the waves just before you.

"it has never once felt like that to me." you turn your head, the beams reaching his face too, making you stare. he's looking ahead.

"our.. friendship. I have never thought of it as a chore, a challenge- maybe. because we're so different from each other, there's a lot to consider. but.." he shakes his head, lowering it, "oh my god- I always thought of this-" he gestures between the two of you. "as something precious, something I needed to protect. if anything, it felt like it was you keeping me close." he brings his head back up but still doesn't glance your way.

...what?

eyebrows furrowed in deep confusion you question, "you.. but, why? there's nothing I have to offer, I mean.." he brings his head back up, concern evident in the way he looks at you. you avoid his eyes, bashful. "you're.. you're so ordinary. you know.. you can befriend anyone, do anything you want.. you're likable, and I don't know.. I'm- I'm just me. and I can barely take being alive, at least..." you sigh shakily, it's so hard to talk about this. "but that was before, now I don't think it's all that bad. and it's all because you came into my life." you didn't even notice you'd started to cry, until you felt sunwoo's thumb on your face, wiping the tears away. you let him, eyes glazed over.

he makes this even more difficult than it already is.

he retracts his hand. you shift your eyes once more. "you know, whenever I think of myself, I'm always out of place. nothing comes naturally to me, like it does with others, and it- it's so frustrating... it's lonely. and it makes me hate myself. but.. weirdly enough, all it took for me to feel at least a little bit normal, was one person who understood me. who listened to me. you're my link to the rest of the world, the only thing that keeps my feet on the ground. I- I really don't know where I would be right now, if you weren't by my side." you feel more silent tears escape.

my whole existence is disgraceful.

but I don't regret this, he has to know how much he means to me.

"I know it's selfish as well, that I wish for you to stay here forever. but.. truly, you're the sole good thing in my life." you've never felt so exposed and vulnerable before, putting your heart on display, right in front of sunwoo.

"it isn't, selfish- I mean." he catches you off guard, so you turn to look. you notice colors dimming on his face, the sunset imminent. he's got a warm expression on his face, one full of tenderness. "well if it is, then I must be selfish too. because I can never imagine my life without you in it either." he leans over, resting his elbow on the armrest in-between your seats. "it honestly breaks my heart that you think that way about yourself, I wish I could take those feelings away from you.." he reaches over with his other hand and takes your hood off. "I don't know how much I'll be able to help, but I can promise that I'll always try to. I'll be here, whenever you need me." his gaze shifts to the top of your head briefly, patting your hair into place. "and I need you with me, just as much. so, don't ever think like that, okay?"

you should've known better than to doubt sunwoo's feelings. he's the one that gets you, even if no words are exchanged. of course, he'd understand. he always has. but.. it's hard to focus on that, when he's just

he's so close.

your heartbeat picks up, alerting you of the proximity between your faces. you can feel the heat of sunwoo's breath on your ice cold face, as you try to keep your own even. try to keep your mind clear, aware.

oh god...

he eyes your lips for a moment, and you can hear it in his slightly quickened breaths-

he feels it too.

your eyes lock, and you feel like you're going insane. with the way he's looking at you, gaze filled with longing. with the way his hand's still resting in your hair. with the way your heart just can't seem to calm. with the way your faces have frozen into place, neither moving an inch to break the distance. it all makes you want to..

I desperately want to kiss him.

"I want to kiss you." you're not even sure who asked the question, because it was whispered, and because you're too tired to make sense of anything. "...can I?" oh, it was him, after all. his voice so soft, but breathy- rushed with desire.

please.

instead of answering, you pull him in by the back of his head, rushing to connect your lips. your eagerness visible in the intensity of the kiss. this stuns sunwoo for a brief second, but he meets your lips and steadies the kiss, slowing you down.

..finally.

he holds you by the jaw. your lips moving in sync, almost naturally. you pull at his hair. you can feel him smiling into the kiss.

he's driving me crazy.

the kiss can't last forever, you have to pull away to take a breath. you can feel the dissatisfaction in the way sunwoo whines lowly. it pleases you, to know he yearns for you the same way you do, for him.

I can't believe we just kissed.

your faces remain close still, seemingly unable to pull apart, now that you've connected. the sound of your heavy breaths and the waves crashing, the only thing to be heard. you wait for each other to regain oxygen back in your lungs. sunwoo's cheeks are flushed cherry, but you're sure yours are worse.

I can't believe I just kissed sunwoo.

he holds your cheek in his palm now, thumb stroking the blush on it, gaze filled with adoration.

is this really happening?

sunwoo's half lidded eyes are relentless in raking over your face, noticing every detail, staring. but it isn't uncomfortable, you don't feel self-conscious. you feel seen.

"you're beautiful." he confesses with care.

he likes me.

he finds me beautiful.

his bold words don't make you question their genuineness. you feel confident in the way you look from his point of view, you know you're beautiful, because he sees it.

tightening your grip on his hair, pulling a strand, you look at his swollen mouth "you have no idea, how long I've waited for this." he ducks his head, smiling shyly. ...he's so.. cute.

bringing both of your hands together, you cup his flushed face.

pretty.

you take a moment to study him. he lets you. after a few moments of silence, he whispers "me too. I've longed for you.. without even realizing." he's a bit hesitant in his words, avoiding your gaze. you didn't know shy sunwoo would come as a punch to your heart, making your affection for him grow.

so adorable.

smiling softly, you lean in to taste his lips once more. this time you make sure to go slow and sunwoo melts into the kiss. he moves his lips according to your pace, kissing you back tenderly. you feel content in his presence, his lips touching yours, comfortable and familiar.

I feel so... warm.

you gently lift your lips from his, but stay near, foreheads joined together. you can feel the breeze biting. your mind screams at you, begging, to connect your mouth back with his again. sunwoo's low breaths grazing your lips not helping the case.

I miss his touch.

the side of his mouth upturned, as if reading your mind, sunwoo briefly brushes your lips with his plump ones.

I need more.

but brief isn't enough. you yearn for him, his touch in the way that wouldn't be sated with a momentary peck. a noise of frustration leaves your lips, and he catches on, finding your impatience cute.

a chuckle. his lips back on yours.

perfect.

#the boyz #kim sunwoo #kim sunwoo fluff #the boyz fic #the boyz scenarios #the boyz reactions #the boyz x reader #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo #sunwoo imagines #sunwoo fluff #the boyz fluff #sunwoo fic #412foryou #412foryou_fics

[braden-holtbys]

Back To Me

A/N: Hi it's me, back on my bs again! Here's another fic I've been working on. It's a bit rushed, but please let me know if a part two is wanted and/or if I should make more fics!

Warnings: angst( ?), maybe a bit of depression

Daniel Ricciardo x reader - more is under the cut!

“Y/N, I'm sorry. I can’t keep doing this,” Daniel said abruptly, moving his cup closer and using the straw to swirl the ice. He tried to not make any eye contact with you, he knew those words cut you deep. You sat there shocked, your jaw practically dropped to the ground. “I’m so sorry Y/N. I think we just got caught up in our romantic feelings and we’ve become so busy with each other and our jobs. Maybe it’s just that this is a distraction….”

“Danny, can- can we talk about this? Think it over?.” you asked while trying to not cry, choking on your words. You didn’t want to make a big scene while you two were at your favorite cafe. Those memories? Gone. 

“I’m so, so sorry Y/N,” he replied quietly, frowning and still avoidant. “I need to get back to practice.” Just like that, he got up and left you alone. You watched as he left the cafe, seemingly with no regret, no looking back. 

I can make you mad

I can make you scream

I can make you cry

I can make you leave

I can make you hate me

For everything

But I can't make you come back to me

Ricciardo, Daniel Ricciardo. That was about seven months ago and since then you’ve struggled to make it day to day without that sunshine of yours. You missed his laugh, his smile, those big brown eyes of his, everything… Three and a half years down the drain in a single moment because of what? You being a distraction? You’ve seen posts here and there on your socials speculating that that might’ve been encouraged by his press officer. Lots of comments saying the same thing like ‘Way to get rid of the distraction,’ ‘Y’all did them dirty,’ ‘They were so happy together and he was doing well’ stuff like that. 

You still kept in contact with some of the other wives and girlfriends of the other drivers. In fact, you were somewhat close with Alex’s and George’s girlfriends, and occasionally they’d come over to your flat in Barcelona to help cheer you up. You were studying abroad in Spain trying to get your masters in mechanical engineering, focusing on automotive mechanics. It was tough for sure, but you managed. It seemed that every time you watched a race since the break up, he’s been struggling too, you can see it in his demeanor. His teammates and other drivers seemed to give him shit for breaking up with you. Little did you know that it was actually the idea of his press officer. There were days where you’d lay in bed staring at the ceiling wondering where you went wrong. No doubt, the both of you actually missed each other, but unbeknownst to you, he desperately wanted you by his side again. You, on the other hand, actually wondered if he was doing the same thing, staying up and thinking about you. 

The girls came over to the flat to get you out of the place, get a breath of fresh air, soak up the beautiful sunshine. They were so worried about you and how you struggled to care for yourself.

“Aw girls, you didn’t have to take me out to the spa! I mean it!,” You exclaimed, you just didn’t want them to worry so much. 

“Y/N please don’t worry about it! We want what’s best for you,” Carmen replied, Lily nodded as she agreed. 

“Plus, he’s been depressed and struggling as much as you have,” Lily added. “I truly think that this wasn’t his idea, but rather a forced one.”

“Ya think? I mean it could be possible.” You replied quietly. “When’s the next race? I have a break coming up this week.”

“Uhhh-”

“I believe this week actually, here in Barcelona,” Carmen interjected before Lily could reply.

“Oh shit that’s right. Mind if I tag along with the both of you?,” you asked, some hope in your voice. You saw their eyes light up as they squealed in happiness. It was like they were waiting for you to make that move. 

Called me all day

But I never pick up

Instead of pulling my weight

Always pushing my luck

You gave me all that I could take

Yeah, I took it all for granted

Head up in the clouds

Yeah, I never understand it

—

“What movie did you wanna watch love?,” Daniel asked as you sat down on the couch and cuddled with him. 

“Um I’m good with pretty much anything, just no horror,” you chuckled as you watched him flip through the channels. Nothing really jumped out to either of you.

“Do you just wanna watch an anime movie or something like that?,” he ended up asking. 

“Of course,” you whispered with a smile. You could feel his body vibrate as he chuckled. 

That memory always stuck with him for whatever reason. Maybe it was because it was a long race week and he didn’t do so hot. It might’ve been that his season with McLaren was so stressful on him, plus the stress of being on Red Bull and Renault that had followed him. 

“Hellooooooooooooooo—--,” Lando blurted as he waved a hand in front of Daniel’s face. “Earth to Danielllllllll.” Daniel had snapped out of his daydream.

“What’s up?,” He asked as he looked up at Lando from his seat.

“You good? You’ve been staring off into space and daydreaming a bunch, man. Whatcha thinking about?,” Lando had asked. 

“Uhhhhhh,” Daniel started. He didn’t want to admit that he was thinking about you, but… “Just thinking about Y/N.”

“Dude it’s been a while. Have you spoken to her lately or nah?,” he asked as he took a seat next to the Aussie. Daniel shook his head ‘no’ even though he has thought about it several times in the last seven months. “You know, I heard through a couple birdies that she might show up to the Spanish grand prix.”

“Where’d you get that info?,” the Aussie immediately asked, looking at the youngster as if he was speaking another language. Alas, the young one had the widest grin on his face.

“I’m not allowed to say…,” He chuckled. “But, just know that I’m rooting for you both to get back together. Honestly, we all are dude. We can tell that you’ve been off since then.” He felt so nervous at the thought of seeing you again, it almost made him nauseous yet excited. God, he so desperately wanted to see you again and apologize for the pain and the fuck up. 

He missed your smile, your voice, the way you carried yourself with confidence, your smarts, everything. He missed the way you looked at him after his races, no matter how he did, you had a sparkle in your eyes only for him. 

“Anyways, I’m gonna get some food. Want anything?,” Lando asked as he got up from his spot.

“Nah I’m good. Thanks man,” Daniel replied as he smiled.

He understands that your education comes first, but he wishes that you’d finish already so you could be by his side at the paddock with whatever team he’s on. Daniel knew that when he sees you, you both have to talk and that he won't let you go ever again. He’s struggled to sleep at night, his house empty without the love of his life. 

It was a surprise that neither of you blocked each other on anything, but you guessed that the other wasn’t interested in that. Rather it was like you both were interested in getting back into each other’s life.

—-

I remember thinking

I don't need you

But then time passed by

And it's so untrue

Now I'm the rain over your parade

Reason you're over me

Yeah, I always keep making the same mistakes

Maybe I never deserved you anyways

You counted down the days until the Grand Prix came around. Your phone started to ding every so often as you got texts from the girls, but what startled you is that Daniel started to text you again. He’d occasionally send a ‘hey’ or ‘how have you been?’, but what threw you off was when he suddenly asked if he could call. Honestly you’ve just been ignoring his texts because at this point, it’s been eight months since your break up.

He got the point, yet he still persisted like the badger he is. You were alarmed by your phone suddenly ringing. You rolled over in bed to look at it - ‘Danny </3’. Rolling your eyes, you let it go to voicemail. 

‘What the hell? Why is he calling me now?’ 

The phone rang again, but this time you finally picked up.

“Um… hello?,” You asked reluctantly. “I’m surprised you didn’t get rid of my number.” He chuckled, and God, you missed that so much. 

“Hello to you too Y/N,” Daniel responded as he cleared his throat. “I’m glad that you picked up.” “What’s up?,” You asked, trying to not sound angry or annoyed. 

“I- I know it’s been a while since we last saw each other. I really wanna talk to you because I really fucked up,” he replied, almost seeming like he was going to cry. “I made a really bad mistake.”

“Oh really? You don’t say Danny,” you stated, rolling your eyes at the obvious. 

“Look, obviously things didn’t go as we had wanted, and I want to talk to you about it. I’m in town tomorrow and have some free time before practice. Let’s meet up at the cafe near your flat, yeah?,” He asked with some hope in his voice. “Are you free too?”

“Uhhh, yes I am actually.”

“Great I’ll shoot you a text and see ya tomorrow.”

“That’s fine.”

As soon as the call ends, he shoots a text with the time and place. Pits were forming in your stomach, like butterflies wanting to fly away. Tomorrow couldn’t be here any sooner and you wanted to tell him off, but also tell him that you needed him so bad. 

I can make you mad

I can make you scream

I can make you cry

I can make you leave

I can make you hate me

For everything

But I can't make you

Come back to me

I can make a world

Out of broken dreams

I can make you say things

You don't mean

I can unmake

All we were made to be

But I can't make you come back to me

The next day rolled around, and you felt so nervous as that pit never left your stomach, but at least you felt cute in your favorite summer dress. It was a pink, knee length dress with strawberry prints and spaghetti straps. You sat in the corner of the cafe, a booth that was quiet and somewhat secluded from the rest of the place. It felt like an eternity waiting for him to come around as you fucked around on your phone. Not even five minutes passed and Daniel finally showed up, sliding into the seat. 

“Hey Danny, long time no see,” You said quietly with a small smile. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I really wanted to say that I’m sorry for breaking up with you. It hurt me then, it hurts me still, and it was a mistake. My- my press officer thought that this relationship was too distracting for me and was hindering my results. I thought it was a fucked up thing to do, and I will always regret this because at the time - I guess it would be best for the both of us,” Danny explained, tears already in your eyes. 

“I was holding you back? That’s rich coming from them,” you scoffed at the mere fact that the press officer really thought that. “I’m sorry that they thought about us like that.”

“Don’t be,” he replied. “I realized some time after that they were just creating drama in order for me to get better results.”

“Look Danny,” you started, “I’m sure we could’ve worked this out sooner. Maybe if we just put in a bit more effort and communication, then maybe - I don’t know. Maybe I just don’t understand why I was the breaking point…,” you trailed off, almost crying because you felt defeated. Danny moved over to your side of the booth to comfort you, lifting up your chin to make you look at those dreamy eyes of his. They longed for you, and  no one else. 

“Y/N,” He started to say, an apologetic tone in his voice. “I’m so sorry I made you feel that way. Honestly, I was miserable without you and our home feels so empty without you. I want you back so bad. Would you be interested in trying again?” You looked at him in shock, unable to say much at the moment, and it was like the whole cafe went silent. Time felt like it was moving slowly, just for you both.

“Y- Well, I - Yes, I would like to try again, but …,” You were hesitant. “However, it seems that there are things we both need to work on. I’d like for the both of us to work on it together, only if that’s okay with you.” He gave you the widest smile ever, something you haven’t seen in forever, especially something so genuine. 

“I’d love that,” Daniel whispered as he put his forehead on yours. 

Calling all day

Tryna make things right

Just to fuck it all up

When I see you tonight

Since you told me hit the road

I've been running on empty

If anything I know

It's how to ruin a happy ending

I remember when you still needed me

Don't know how I let it go so easily

Now I'm the cloud to your sunny days

Reason you run away

Don't know how I keep making the same mistakes

Maybe I never deserved you anyway

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 x you #daniel ricciardo #daniel riccardo x reader #f1 x female reader

[thewxtchwhowrites]

Hola, oke no sorry haha. I can’t speak Spanish, just a bit hehe.

I don’t know if you write for request but because I wanted to say Hola I think about an idea now. What about Bucky taking you out for Dinner and your ex is there as well and tries to convince you he is the right one but Bucky is such a sweet gentle man and super protective?

Thank you in advance, even when you don’t write it hehe.💕

Ha. Did you think I forgot about you? Well no darling, it wasn't like that.

Here you have (late, but sure) and at once I took the opportunity to do therapy writing this. I was dumped about seven months ago by my partner, when I received your request, so I thank you very much for the idea, although it took me a while to prepare it.

I really hope you like it and it's what you expect, I interpreted it this way.

summary: you finally come out of an emotional sadness and decide to go out with Bucky to dinner, without thinking about who you would end up running into.

words: 3219

Beautiful dividers by @cafekitsune

You were carefully walking down the stairs and your heels started making noise as they hit the steps, causing Bucky and Steve who were talking near the door to turn to look at you.

Bucky looked nervous, and it was no wonder, the truth is that he had not been on a date in more than 70 or 80 years, with everything that had happened in his life these last few years since the 40s.

Steve seemed to calm him down, when the blond turned to look at you he had a smile on his lips, he looked like a proud older brother.

As you walked down the stairs you wondered how you had really gotten to this day, and the truth is that the whole series of events had been very convoluted and fun...

Or at least now that you were feeling better.

You had been depressed for a couple of months and it was because your boyfriend with whom you had been in a relationship for five years had broken up with you overnight with a simple message:

"I can't keep doing this, forgive me."

Your eyes began to fill with tears as you continued reading as best you could:

"I owe you what I am today. And it hurts me to tell you this, I don't know, I feel like I'm really screwing up by leaving all these years behind." Your tears no longer let you see, your vision was blurred. "But I want to make that decision and continue alone from now on. Maybe we can be friends in the future."

Bastard. You thought to yourself, it was obvious that there was something strange about his behavior after you both had your last movie date, but you decided not to listen to your intuition even though Natasha had warned you.

"I don't know, honey, I think you should be prepared…" Natasha sat on your bed and sighed, taking one of your pillows in her hands, and noticing one of the photographs you had on your wall where you and your now ex boyfriend ex-boyfriend, were at a Coney Island fair with ice cream on your faces.

"But Nat…" You said while shaking your head. You were delusional, without a doubt. "We've been together for five years, I don't think we'll break up. He's just a little stressed because his business isn't going well."

There were times where your ex-boyfriend would disappear for weeks, claiming that he was busy working or trying to run his business (a music store that his grandfather had owned for many years) and sometimes when you logged on to social media after work, you would notice that he was still online sharing posts or tweeting, although he didn't respond to your chat.

Sometimes he'd leave you on 'read' or sometimes he just wouldn't seem to open the chat, which was… strange.

Until it happened.

Even the final message of that long paragraph of excuses had a rather late apology that said:

"I'm very sorry, not only for the moment in which I'm telling you all this. But also for what I've put you through and how I treated you, not speaking to you for weeks and then coming to you to write all this shit."

That last message definitely led to long hours of crying, especially at night in your room at the Avenger Compound, not wanting to leave your room, maybe just to eat with everyone or for missions, and then return to your room.

You were even more temperamental during missions, you hit harder and you were even more reckless, which Bucky noticed immediately, he knew that attitude and hatred.

The first thing Nat, Wanda, and Maria Hill did when they found out was bring you ice cream and have a girls' night out, which ended relatively well, at least until Wanda put on a movie and the guy's name was your ex's.

A couple of nights later you heard a soft knock on your door, you were crying as quietly as you could and you thought that maybe you had woken up Steve or Nat who were sleeping in the adjoining rooms, when you got up and opened the door, it was Bucky.

"Bucky?" You asked with some confusion.

"I… I brought you this." Bucky took a cookie out of his pants pocket, when you took it you could feel that it was broken. "I accidentally sat on the cookie while I was on my way here on the motorcycle, sorry."

That, even if it was something simple, made you laugh and maybe it was the first time in five fucking months that you laughed sincerely and not in a forced way.

Bucky after you thanked him, he nodded softly with a shy smile on his lips and left saying goodnight.

You look at Bucky's face as a smile began to form on his lips as you walked down the stairs, it seemed like he saw the most beautiful thing on the planet and he even had a small bouquet of flowers for you in his hands.

As soon as you finished walking down the stairs, Bucky approached you at the bottom of them.

"You look…" Bucky started to say, but stayed silent.

"Do I look too dressed up? Is too much?" You said nervously, touching your hair and ironing your dress with your hands at the level of your stomach, it had been Nat and Wanda's idea to groom you as if you were a little doll even though you weren't totally used to it.

“No, you look like an angel…” Bucky interrupted you. He continued to look at you with those blue eyes, it was a kind, sweet look. You felt your cheeks redden and you let out a nervous laugh.

Steve raised his eyebrows at such a compliment, and since you had your back to Steve, he took the opportunity to give Bucky a thumbs up.

"Oh, this is for you." Bucky gave you the small bouquet of flowers that you took carefully, they smelled delicious.

“James, you didn't have to do it." you said in a whisper, looking between the flowers and Bucky.

You didn't remember that a man had ever given you flowers before, your ex in itself was not a person to give you that type of details and you, sometimes, didn't allow yourself to receive them either.

But for some reason with Bucky, the fact that he gave you those details, it felt different.

“It's true.” He put his hands in the pocket of his black pants, nodding at your comment. "I didn't have to, but I wanted to do it."

That comment caught your attention.

Steve patted both of you gently like a father and opened the door to the compound, smiling.

"Have fun…" Steve looked at you and nodded his approval as if you were his little sister. "But not too much."

Steve looked at Bucky when he said that last sentence, that was definitely a warning to him, Bucky just shrugged and let you take his arm as they walked to the motorcycle to Izzy's.

Honestly, you don't know how it happened, but it happened.

You began to spend more time with Bucky as the days and even weeks went by, first he asked you for help to play a prank on Sam by painting Nightwing as if it were a stingray and recording it to show in the group chat that you all shared.

Then you would help him with technological issues or you would end up sitting in the compound's cinema watching old movies while you listened to him tell you things about how things were in those times.

And maybe some embarrassing stories about Steve.

You discovered that he was chivalrous, opening the door for you and even letting you in first by placing either of his two hands just under your back in a protective manner. Even when you had to take something somewhere he offered himself, not allowing you to do it.

Including the bowl of popcorn, because he didn't want you to get burned.

You thought that sometimes Bucky was an exaggerator, but you began to notice that he did things that even your ex-boyfriend had stopped doing after being together for a while.

When you and Bucky went out on the street, he always offered you his right arm, since he felt a little insecure offering you his left arm, the mechanical one. However, that insecurity started to disappear and then he didn't care which arm you grabbed as long as you held his arm when you walked.

The times when neither of you could sleep and you stayed talking, whether in your bed or his, he didn't fall asleep while you were talking about those topics that you were both passionate about, nor did he change the subject, he just watched you with attention.

Bucky even remembered the things you had said to him a couple of months or weeks ago and that you didn't even remember what you had said to him.

You were healing little by little, starting to be you again.

And somehow he was healing too.

If you were at one of Tony's parties or maybe at a mission meeting, sometimes you would look at Bucky when he wasn't looking at you, and the other way around would also happen, and if you caught each other looking, both would just smile like a couple of fools and look away.

One night you heard a soft knock on your door, you recognized that soft knock, when you opened your door it was Bucky again, but he looked different tonight.

"Hi..." Bucky said slowly, seeming a little nervous, his right hand resting on the frame of your door, trying to look casual. "I wanted to invite you to dinner, well, it's not really a dinner."

You could notice and see Bucky's nervousness when trying to say things as he had (probably) rehearsed them in front of the bathroom mirror and he added:

"Or yes, maybe it is, I don't know."

You interrupted his rambling with a smile on your lips, gently raising a hand to the level of your chest.

"Yes..." That's what you said, you noticed how his eyes softened at the fact that you had agreed. "Yes, I'd like to go."

He nodded repeatedly and sighed in relief, letting out a soft chuckle.

"So Friday at eight sounds good to you?" Bucky was clearing his throat, trying to hide his excitement that you had accepted dinner, you nodded. "Okay, I'll see you on Friday."

Bucky quickly kissed your cheek, wished you goodnight, and left without stopping smiling like a fool.

When you two arrived at Izzy's, Bucky greeted Leah with a smile, she seemed surprised but happy that she now finally saw him with someone other than Mr. Nakajima, especially seeing you walk in with him.

You and Bucky sat at one of the tables and you had a sneaking suspicion that someone was watching you, but you weren't sure after all there were more people than usual today, it was Friday.

After a couple of laughs, drinks, Asian food and bad jokes, a few caresses on your hand from his you noticed out of the corner of your eye that someone was approaching the table and you swore it was a waiter.

But it was your ex.

“Y/N…” Your ex said in a firm voice, looking from Bucky reluctantly and then back to you. "What are you doing here with him?"

The audacity of this idiot. You thought as you heard those words come out of your ex's mouth.

"The real question is, what are YOU doing here?" You responded rudely as a frown began to form on your forehead.

"So you're the… man who broke her heart." Bucky told him in a calm voice, but he was really trying to stop himself from smashing your ex-boyfriend's face into the pretty little sushi boat that was on the table, because he didn't want to ruin your night.

Bucky slowly stood up from the chair, making your ex jump a little, maybe he was nervous with Bucky's presence.

And the truth is he should be nervous.

Bucky was quite tall, strong and even if he didn't have a vibranium left arm, he would have enough strength to change your ex-boyfriend's health status to deceased if he tried to go far with you.

And on top of that he had to avoid at all costs breaking the second rule that he had agreed upon with Dr. Raynor in therapy: No one gets hurt.

Your ex scrunched his face in disapproval at Bucky's words, not believing what he was hearing, but now you understood many things, you had been receiving notifications on social networks, especially from Instagram indicating that your ex occasionally looked at the stories you published.

Part of you didn't understand why you continued to have him on Instagram, perhaps because you used that social network very little, but whatever, now you understood what your ex was doing there.

"What? N-No, I was confused…" Your ex started to speak, he even tried to get a little closer to you, but he couldn't since Bucky gently moved his left arm that was covered by a glove. "Now my mind is more than clear and I want us to go back Y/N."

Bucky tried to talk to him by placing his right hand on his shoulder.

"Look, son…" But your ex just moved, removing Bucky's hand from his shoulder.

"Don't call me son, we are the same age, pal." Your ex responded aggressively, while rolling his eyes, looking back at you.

Very few knew that Bucky was actually 106 years old, which if you had been in another situation you would have found it funny.

"Look, I don't know what you've been through in these eight or nine months, but she and I are together, and she's not interested in getting back with you or anyone else." Bucky spoke in a fairly firm tone of voice, being respectful.

You began to feel anxious, you felt your stomach turn not only from nervousness, but from the embarrassment you were experiencing in the establishment, many of the people at the adjacent tables were looking towards you.

"Are you really going to throw away all these years together with me, by being with him?" Your ex-boyfriend spoke softly, as if he was trying to manipulate you. "Y/N? I know you haven't forgotten me, you still love me, I know that."

You looked between both men, there was some doubt in your eyes or that's what Bucky thought he saw in you, maybe it was embarrassment.

You got up from your seat and enter the bathroom of the place with tears in your eyes, on many occasions you had dreamed of something similar, dreams that ended in nightmares that you tried to ignore some nights, many ended with your ex calling you different things like 'bitch', 'whore' or 'ungrateful witch' while throwing things at you or shaking you.

You ended up waking up drenched in sweat many nights, breathing heavily and then crying silently until sleep overcame you, although those tears and nightmares ended up being silenced by Bucky on more than one occasion while he slept next to you, stroking your hair or hugging you in his arms.

You had entered the bathroom and locked yourself inside one of the stalls, you were hyperventilating, you didn't think the wound would reopen again, you really thought you were over that, you didn't know how much time had passed, you were just sitting on the toilet seat with tears in your eyes.

Until your train of thought stopped when you heard the door to the women's bathroom open wide, hearing soft footsteps coming in and seeming to have stopped near the mirror.

"Y/N?" It was Leah's voice, it sounded soft because the bathroom had quite an echo. "Are you okay, do you need anything?"

"He's gone?" You asked shakily, leaving the bathroom stall, as soon as Leah saw you with your makeup smeared with tears, she gently tilted her head, giving you an empathetic look and approached you.

Leah nodded at your question.

"Yes, between Mr. Nakajima, Bucky and I, we took that being out of the restaurant." Leah rolled her eyes, she reached into the pockets of her apron for a handkerchief with a couple of flowers embroidered on it and wiped your face. "I really thought James was going to break his face, I was already thinking about what to replace the restaurant furniture with… they are made of old wood."

Both laughed at the comment, although you also imagined Mr. Nakajima, who had a bad temper, pushing your ex out of the restaurant door.

He was a man with a quite volatile temperament, like Bucky's.

When you returned to the restaurant you didn't see Bucky, he was outside leaning on his motorcycle, you said goodbye to Mr. Nakajima who was also leaving the restaurant with you and of course to Leah, thanking both.

Mr. Nakajima opened the door for you and let you out first.

"Pretty ladies first" Mr. Nakajima said with a kind smile, which made you laugh, and that made Bucky turn his head to the door of the establishment and approach you.

"Are you ok?" Bucky gently took your face in his hands, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

You looked into his eyes and you could feel that he was still upset by your ex's attitude, in fact, he seemed a little uncomfortable, perhaps remembering your look of doubt.

You nodded silently. You had a thoughtful look again.

"Honey…" Bucky began to speak softly, lowering his hands to his sides. It was the first time he had called you that pet name since you had started talking and going out. "I know I'm not the easiest person to deal with."

You remained silent, listening to what he had to say.

"I have nightmares at night, I have anger issues, I'm 106 years old…" Bucky chuckled, looking away from your eyes for a moment to see a couple of people crossing the street during the lonely night. "Even other problems, especially because of my past, so I will totally understand if you want to get back with him."

You didn't know what your expression really was, but Bucky seemed surprised as he looked back at you.

"What? I said something wrong?" Bucky asked, maybe you looked at him like he was crazy.

"I'm really going to have to talk to Dr. Raynor." You said nodding with a smile on your lips.

Bucky looked at you confused, he didn't understand what the mention from his psychologist that he was seeing it had to do with this conversation.

“Oh please…” You rolled your eyes, sometimes you forgot that Bucky was born before penicillin. "It means that I'd be crazy if you think I'm going to choose my ex. I like you, James B-"

Bucky leaned forward, crashing his lips against yours and bringing his hands back to your face, your eyes instinctively closed, enjoying the kiss which became more intense and then you both separated, gasping for air, without saying a word...

You two now knew how the other felt.

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes mcu #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #request one-shot #request #one shot #thewxtchwhowrites

[strwb3rryfairi]

CG!Poly!Lost boys (+ Micheal) x Little!Reader

Warning(s): Insecurity, doubt, but mainly just fluff .

You and the boys have been together for years and when you were in little space you would cling to each of them equally. This routine changed once Micheal joined the group. You were entranced with him; You thought he was so pretty. From his curly hair to his blue eyes - you were obsessed. Micheal of course didn’t mind this - he actually quite liked it. He thought it was so cute. The way you would cling on to him and cuddle with him in the cave; It was adorable. And although Micheal loved how clingy you were with him - this wasn’t the case with the rest of the boys.

David would often be seen grumbling (more than usual) to himself when you would cling on to Micheal. Paul would whine and pout saying things like “Don’t you love daddy?” which would make you panic and stress out - and then make you feel like you have to choose between the two. This stopped once Dwayne noticed what Paul was doing and he smacked the shit out of him. Dwayne would simply glare at Micheal - while Marko would bite his thumb to try and contain his anger.

This had been going on for weeks. You would always be clinging to Micheal - whether it be at the boardwalk or at the cave. The boys thought they should have a talk with you to figure out why you were clinging to the brunette so badly.

So, that night the boys all went to your section of the cave where you were just playing with your dolls happily giggling to yourself. The boys all thought this was adorable and Paul instantly wanted to pepper your face in kisses and keep you in his arms forever.

You noticed the group of boys standing right by you and smiled brightly. “Hi!!” You said with a giggly smile. This smile faltered when you saw the serious looks on their faces. “Am I in trouble?” You said with a pout.

David was the first to speak up. “No baby you aren’t. You’re daddie’s just wanted to talk about what’s been going on with you lately.” You tilted your head with an adorable confused look on your face. “You’ve been spending a lot more time with dada instead of us and it’s been making us all a little upset. Did we do something wrong that upset you sweetheart?” The room went quiet for a bit before you started giggling to yourself. This laughing fit confused the boys but they didn’t want to interrupt you. Your laughing calmed down before you spoke up. “You didn’t do anything wrong, dada is just really warm an’ I was cold.” You said smiling.

The boys stopped for a sec and processed what you had said. The room was quiet for a bit and it caused you to get worried and start to let your doubts take over. The silence was cut by Paul. “So we just have to wear sweaters and you’ll cuddle with us more?” You shrugged at his question which basically meant “yeah sure.”

Soon the colder nights were spent with your daddies in sweaters and comfy clothes. Your cuddle pile soon became ten times softer with the added comfort of the boys sweaters.

A/N: sorry for the lack of posts guys - i’ve been really depressed and i just haven’t been feeling great lately.

#poly!lost boys #poly!lost boys x reader #the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys headcanon #the lost boys imagines #the lost boys x reader #lost boys x little!reader #micheal emerson x reader #x little!reader #little!reader #agere fluff

[graycomfort]

I have an idea to write something heavy. David naturally has better communication skills than Simon. Simon is more unhappy, which makes him insecure, whereas David does not have this quality and can flirt with Sophie. Girls love bad boys. And as a result, Simon may catch them in an intimate moment or simply realize that he will never get Sophie back and become even more depressed. David may pester Sophie or the reader, or Simon will meet the reader after catching David and Sophie together.

+ "I am adding to the previous post. David makes Sophie fall in love with him. Simon had known David since he found out Sophie was with him. and when Henrikson becomes disabled, he says his signature phrase at a meeting with Leatherhoff. And the reader could call an ambulance for Simon"

Simon Hennrikson x Gn! Reader - Shouldn't - Part 1

Pairings: Sophie x David Leatherhoff, Simon Hennrikson x Reader

Synopsis: Your best friend Sophie falls in love with your brother, David. Simon isn't too happy about that, but maybe something good can come of it.

Everyone in this story is an asshole, but I'm so sorry David and Sophie lovers! I WILL TRY TO MAKE IT UP TO YOU!!!!! Masterlist

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting!!! I'm so sorry for going a bit off-topic from the prompt you asked of me, and for taking such a long time. I had struggled a bit while writing it, and I ain't too happy with the outcome. I'M SORRY IF IT DOESN'T MAKE MUCH SENSE WAHHHHH

Contents: Two best friends drifting apart due to a relationship, everyone is an asshole in one way or another, eating ham pizza (just exchange it for something else if you don't eat meat or don't like pizza in general), one use of Y/N, unhealthy relationship, angst??? Word count: ~2.5k

"Oi, bro bro. Borrow me one of your Wii controllers, please." I said as soon as I entered my brother's room. David got startled, as I didn't even bother to knock, and dropped his joint on the carpet below. "Fucking hell." He muttered as he picked it back up. The carpet was now decorated with yet another burn mark as it wasn't a rare occurrence. "Don't you have two of them yourself?" He answered in a gruff voice of his. "If I didn't need one I wouldn't even waste my time talking to you. But I broke one of them and I need two." I crossed my arms as the conversation could have been very much avoided. "What for?" I groaned as he dragged out the conversation on purpose. "To play the other one with my feet, obviously." I stated with sarcasm seeping from my words. "I'm having a friend over, what else would I need two for, you idiot!" "You're weird as shit, I would have believed the first one." He said with an eye-roll as he stood up.

"So can I have it??" "Yes, Jesus, gimme a second to get it, you fucking parasite." His movements were sloppy, as expected from a guy who has taken more drugs today than I have drunk water this week. "Says you." But he didn't lie and within a minute the controller you needed was in your hands. "Thanks, will return it when she goes home." I was ready to leave, I only got to turn around before David spoke up again. "She? You're having a laddyy over! Is she pretty??" I turned my head at the question. Staring into his red eyes with obvious disgust. "Whatever is going through that drugged-up mind of yours, quit it." He shrugged. "If you're not interested I might be." He said with a cheeky tone. "No." I didn't even bother to argue with a guy who possibly couldn't even see who was in front of him.

But it did make me worried. I prayed all he said was a joke and that he wouldn't advance on her. He would be such a bad influence on a such sweet girl like her. I didn't even get to my room as a knock sounded on the front door. "I'll get it!" Was heard as a black smudge ran past me. The most coordination I have seen him manage to keep in a while. Oh, you motherfucker.

David opened the upper lock on the door and swung it open. Before the squeaky door, which had a "Leatherhoff" doorplate glued to it, stood an average heightened brunette girl. It was the first time I had ever invited her to my house, so she was caught off guard at the sight of a disheveled-looking man. "Oh my, why do I have the pleasure of seeing an angel at my doorstep?" She was not prepared to be hit on the second the door opened. The fact that most interactions she had with men had been bullying from her schoolmates. It weirded her out, yet kinda felt pleasant. What she was supposed to say she didn't know.

"Is this wh-" Before she could finish her sentence, the dark-haired man was forcefully shoved out of the way by a familiar to her face. "Move it, pothead." I stabilized myself after the strong push and made way so the said girl could enter. "Please come in, Sophie. And don't mind my idiotic brother." As I was mentioning him I shoved my elbow into his ribs. Which he winced at.

Sophie looked so unsure of the whole shit show before her, but in the end, she did enter my household. As soon as she took off her shoes I rushed her into my room. I sent one last glare in the direction of my brother before he fled back to his room annoyed. Sophie looked at me and said in a slight whisper "Was he…?" Her hand raised to point at her eyes. "High? Yeah." I said with a tired tone and threw myself on my bed. "I'm sorry that it was the first thing you saw here." I stared at her worried. I really didn't want her to judge me based on my brother. But Sophie just waved her raised hand. "Ah, don't worry about it. He was sweet to me." The worried look quickly got replaced with disgust. I fake gagged. "Ugh, girl nah!!" She laughed at my reaction and sat down next to me.

She grabbed her bag and took out a few crinkly pages. "I got you the notes you wanted. Sorry, they're kinda smugged… got pushed into a puddle…" Her mood suddenly dropped at the mention of the accident. I sighed with anger. "Fuck. That's the second time this week, I wish I was there to pay them back." Sophie smiled at the sign of care and looked up at me as I took the papers. "Don't worry, Simon was there and stood up for me." She paused for a second. "I should introduce you two to each other, I feel like you two would have a lot in common. And he could use some socializing…"

I recognized the name, but couldn't pinpoint it to a face though. As it was mostly obscured by the hood of the hoodie he always wore. It surprised you when Sophie said he stood up for her or let alone that he's her friend, as he seemed very reserved and mostly kept to himself. Usually spending breaks and sometimes even classes, listening to music, or sleeping. I couldn't blame him, I would have probably done the same thing. Yet I really wanna show the school am I better than my deadbeat brother who used to go to this school. Most of the teachers had a sour look on their faces the first time they read my last name while taking note of the attendance. I feel like I have succeeded in showing them I'm nothing like him. But the pressure to keep up the good act was still there.

"Yeah sure, I will gladly meet him. He seems like a good guy." Sophie smiled at me, she felt glad. "He is, he is. I mean yeah, he can get a bit too much sometimes. But I'm guessing that's mostly because he doesn't have any other friends than me." I hummed back at the information. The conversation diverted into many different topics before we could even get to the main point of our hangout. Playing on the Wii. Just dance, Wii Sports, etc. We played any party games we could find in my library of games until we got tired. Sophie was pretty skilled at playing those even tho she doesn't really own any gaming equipment. I was glad to give her access to mine as she seemed to enjoy it very much. The room was filled with movement, laughter, and overall fun.

It was all interrupted eventually by the door getting swung open by David. I was about to tell him off before I noticed that he actually had a reason to come in here. "Mom ordered pizza. This one's for you two. It's ham, I think." I stood up from my bed and took the pizza from his hand. Sophie was right behind me. "Great timing! I'm starving" She leaned over my shoulder, placing her hands on them. "It smells so good!" I looked at David, who's focus was on Sophie. "Tell Mom we said thanks." And with that I went back to my bed, taking the pizza with me. Before Sophie went back herself, she turned to David. "Thank you for bringing it to us." She smiled, which was replicated by David. "No problem, beautiful." I groaned before Sophie had a chance to reply. "C'mon. It's gonna get cold if you keep chit-chatting." David signed and grabbed the door handle. "Maybe another time." With that he left, closing the door behind him.

I was very much annoyed with the forceful flirting he was showering Sophie with. The girl didn't see anything wrong with David's actions. As she was appreciating all the positive words sent her way. As it wasn't a common thing in her life. Sophie came back and opened the pizza box as I was too deep in my thoughts. I was brought back to reality when I felt a warm scratchy texture in my hand. As Sophie put one of the pieces in it. David was right, Sophie was an angel. He was right about the pizza too, it is indeed ham.

It started to get dark once we finished eating. "I should better be going. It's getting dark." I glanced outside only now noticing the dark grayish sky. "Man…" "Yeah…" Sophie didn't look too happy about it just like me. I stood up and Sophie grabbed her things. "I had a lot of fun, we should do it more often!" She beamed as I replied with a nod. "Definitely!"

As we got out of my room, we met my mom in the hallway. "Ah miss Leatherhoff. Thank you for the pizza and for having me!" Mom waved her hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, my dear. It got late, why don't Y/n's brother drive you home." She smiled sweetly. Sophie started to get worried, as she had just seen him high a few hours ago.

"I don't know, ma." I said worried about Sophie's safety. My mom didn't really listen as she called out for David to come to the hallway. It didn't take long till he came out of his room. "Yeah? What is it?" David seemed better, his eyes less red as if it wore off. Yet I still didn't trust him. You couldn't bring it up to Mom, it was a very sensitive topic. She chooses to be oblivious to her son's obvious addiction.

"Could you give Sophie a ride back home?" David looked confused at who she meant. Looking next to her, he saw his annoyed sibling and the brunette girl he hit on earlier. Just now remembering that it was her name. "Yeah, sure. Lemme just grab my keys." David disappeared again and then appeared back in the hallway quickly with his car keys in hand.

I was so displeased with the situation at hand. "Something happens to Sophie and you're fucking dead, David." I glared at him. "Y/n! Language!" My mom said before David spoke up to his defense. "Chill, nothing will happen. You know I'm an amazing driver." I raised my eyebrow. "Oh, are you now?" David sent a glare back at you. "Enough of that." Our mom spoke up.

I signed and went to hug Sophie goodbye. Before I let them leave I spoke up one last time. "Text me the second something happens or when you get home, okay?" "Okay, okay. I should be fine." She said as if she wasn't sure herself. They both put their coats and shoes on and left. I stood there looking at the door a second longer. Worried thoughts filled my brain.

And I was right. I couldn't stop David from entering my room while Sophie was there. But I couldn't stop the text messages. I don't know when they started texting. Possibly they exchanged numbers when he drove her home. It didn't matter. What mattered was that my conversations with Sophie started to get filled with 'You will never guess what David said' 'David did this' 'David' and 'David'. I would have been happy for her. If it wasn't my druggie of a brother she was talking about.

I suggested to her plenty of times that maybe she could go for Simon. "Have you seen how he looks at you? He definitely likes you!" At this point, I started to sound desperate. "Maybe… but I just don't see him that way. I like him, just not like that." I felt defeated.

Then the unavoidable happened. It was a very quiet break, there was maybe one more person in the classroom besides me. Sophie came so excited to my desk. "You won't believe it!" I looked up at her from my notes. "What?" I should have been already prepared for what she was about to say. "David and I are dating!" But I wasn't.

"Åh, cool!" I tried not to show how displeased I was with what she just announced to me. My eyes made a connection with the notes again. "Something wrong?" She asked and I really wanted to tell her the truth. I didn't wanna be a bad guy in her eyes. She was love-struck, and David made her happy. So I lied. I looked up at her with a fake grin. "Åh, nej. I'm happy for you two! I'm just a little tired and studying for today's exam is killing me.'" "Åh, I'm sorry! I will let you be! Good luck!" With that, she was gone. I watched her leave as if it was gonna be the last time I saw her. When she was out of my sight I sighed.

Hangouts at my house changed from just us two hanging out. David started joining us more and more often. With time it was David who invited her, not me. I didn't have to, she was here at least once a week anyway. At some point, I stopped going out of my room to them. Lying that I wasn't feeling too good.

Sophie did realize after a few times that I didn't come out of my room on purpose. So she decided to make plans in advance that involved going outside. So I couldn't hide in my room. She came up to me at school. "Hej, are you maybe free this weekend?" I pondered for a second. "Um, I don't think I have anything planned, why?" "How about we get some coffee this weekend? Me, you, David, and I will also invite Simon!" I really wanted to decline the offer. I was hoping it was gonna just the two of us, but of course, David had to be there too. But I do remember agreeing to meet Simon tho. Maybe he being there with us was gonna make it at least a bit less awkward, so I agreed.

"Yeah, sure." She seemed to relax at my answer. "Good! I will send you the details once I invite the rest." I was glad she still cared about our friendship. I felt a bit of an asshole for avoiding her when she came over. But I had my reasons.

A few classes later I felt my phone buzz. 'Saturday 1 p.m sounds alright to you?' was a message sent by Sophie. I replied with a thumbs-up to it and put my phone back in my pocket. The thought of regret filled my brain, but I couldn't back out now.

A few uneventful days went by till it was Saturday. It was Saturday at 12 a.m right now. I got ready for the day early, trying to look at least a bit decently since it's not gonna be just you three. I wondered what kind of person Siomn was, as Sophie's description and my own observations didn't give me much to work with.

The door to my room was open, and he stood in it. I chose to ignore him until he spoke up himself. The person in the hallway did not cross the threshold and spoke to me from where he was standing. "Are you ready to go?" It was David who, despite your relationship souring even more since he met Sophie, offered to give me a lift. "Yeah." The room was filled with an awkward silence as I picked up my things.

He moved away from the door and waited for me to put on my coat and shoes. My pace was clearly too slow for him as he passed by me and went straight for the door. "We're leaving!" He shouted to our mom who shouted back to us about being careful. And then he left. Shortly after I left the house myself, locking it behind me.

#cry of fear x reader #simon henriksson x reader #simon henriksson #cry of fear #fanfiction

[littledemondani]

misery

warnings: angst, fem!reader, post-breakup, mentions of alcohol use, implied depression, sort of a happy ending if you squint really hard, reader is a cheerleader, secret relationship

word count: 1.1k

request: "anonymous asked: maybe you could write an angst fic/blurb for eddie… with a major argument because the relationship is private but eventually the fic ends on a good note somehow. really make it whatever you want lol i’m just a sucker for any type of angst!!"

a/n: it didn't quite end up the way anon asked for, but i'm pretty happy with the overall result. i hope y'all like it <3

they say time heals all wounds.

whoever came up with that can seriously go to fucking hell.

ever since your breakup with eddie munson, you had been absolutely miserable.

it’s not like you hadn’t seen it coming - quite the opposite, actually. and for the days, even weeks leading up to it, you tried to be oblivious. tried to tell yourself that it was all in your head and everything was fine.

eddie had slowly pulled away from you. all of the late night phone calls, sneaking him into your room after your parents went to sleep, meeting him in the woods behind hawkins high, the pet names he had specifically for you, all lessened in their frequency.

you figured that’s what happens when you keep something a secret for so long, but you had hoped that your relationship would withstand all the obstacles thrown it’s way until you both graduated high school.

that particular day, he had asked you to meet him at your spot, and stupidly, you thought that maybe things were coming around and it was just some shit he was going through at home that he didn't want you to know about.

you couldn't be more wrong.

he stood there, completely barren of any emotion as he told you he was done. that there was no way he could continue lying to himself, and to you, that he actually cared about you. you were nothing more than another notch on his belt, a conquest for him.

it felt like your world was crashing in on you, making it hard for you to breathe. you shook your head, repeating a slew of ‘no’ and ‘eddie, please’ as you grappled to process what the hell was going on.

since day one, he had made it clear this is what he wanted. that you were what he wanted most. he didn’t care about the stereotypes that seemed to dictate everything everyone did or didn’t do. he was above all of that, and looked beyond the bullshit labels at the person behind them. you were "a beacon of light in the darkness” as he once put it.

yet he stood there, unbothered, watching you fall apart in front of him without doing anything. even as you cried and begged him not to go, he still did absolutely nothing. 

“i’m sorry, y/n,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders, looking everywhere else but at you. “i don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

there was so much more he could say. like the truth. that he was a two-time senior living in a trailer park, and you were the pretty cheerleader, top of the class and on your way to college to become everything you’d always wanted to be in life. he had nothing to offer you, that much was clear to him, and it killed him to do this to you, but he felt like he had no other choice.

the days that followed were a living nightmare. having to go to school like your heart hadn't been pulverized into a million pieces had become the bane of your existence. even though you put on a fake smile, it was completely obvious to everyone who knew you that there was something off.

whereas eddie seemed completely fine.

fucking asshole.

now here you are, almost two months later, alone in your room, sobbing into your pillow as the songs in the mixtape eddie made for you flow through your stereo.

flashbacks of the day he gave it to you come to mind, and you find some kind of solace in them, despite the ever present ache in your chest.

eddie knocked at your window once before opening it and hopping in. he was all smiles, completely proud of himself for the hard work he had done to make it perfect. 

“for you, madam,” he says in a goofy tone, making you giggle as you take it from him.

“what’s this?”

“only the coolest mixtape i’ve ever made for anyone,” he says, plopping down onto your bed as he kicks off his shoes. “well, the only one i’ve ever made for someone, but that's besides the point.” 

you place the cassette tape into your stereo, curious to hear what’s on it. the trooper by iron maiden comes blasting through, and you turn around to find him playing air guitar and mimicking the sounds.

“whose that?” you ask, climbing on the bed next to him.

he stops air strumming and glances at you, a feigned look of shock and offense on his face before he pretends to be shot and falls off your bed. 

“only the greatest band to ever fucking exist, iron maiden,” he says as he holds his hand to his heart. “don’t worry sweetheart, i’m gonna teach you everything you need to know, okay? i know those preppy weirdos have you brainwashed into thinking wham! is the greatest ever.”

“they are, though,” you tease, chuckling as you sit on the floor next to him. “george michael is amazing.” 

he pretends to groan like he’s in pain, shaking his head. “no! no! i don’t wanna hear it!”

you’re pulled back to reality when the phone on your bedside table rings. you glance at the clock, 11:45pm, and wonder who the fuck would be calling this late. wiping your tears, you answer the phone, only to be met with silence on the other end.

“you know it’s real fucking weird to just call people and not say anything,” you huff in annoyance, waiting just a little bit longer to see if maybe they’d say something.

nothing.

you roll your eyes, muttering a soft ‘whatever’ before rolling over to hang up.

“y/n…”

the voice on the other end makes your blood run cold, your heart racing so fast you swear it’s going to burst at the seams. you sit up on your bed, bringing your knees up to your chest and furrowing your brows slightly.

“eddie? w-what the hell?”

“i miss you,” he says, a slight slur to his words that makes you think he’s probably drunk. “i miss you so much…”

all rationale goes out the door the minute you hear those words. you should hang up on him, curse him for putting you through hell the last couple of months, for wasting your fucking time by making you think he actually gave a shit about you. but the pain in his voice, despite being under the influence, is what you cling to the most.

“i miss you, too…” you whisper, sniffling a bit as the tears begin to fall down your face uncontrollably.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader

[qqueenofhades]

thank you for your post i’m doing my best to stay informed on the conflict and i’m very young. i feel guilty being quiet as i understand to uplift voices helps prevent their silencing but this has lead me to not critically think about what i’m spreading

it’s been a long month. i’m only a kid and watching the world go to shit like this has been awful, I always wondered how millennials who lived through post nine eleven imperialism coped and god i’m still not sure how.

I am as a white gentile in a position of privilege and mostly my own person is unaffected by the uptick in violence and evil in the world right now. But my friends who i see every day are in more danger due to this conflict and i feel awful that i cannot ever fully understand or fix the deaths of people.

Right now I’m being a bit too reactionary. I’m doing my best but in the end I am not immune to fearmongering and propoganda, especially in these last couple sleepless weeks.

So thank you and everyone who is keeping level heads and desconstructing what’s happening. I’m sorry and i strive to be better. Thank you.

To anyone living in fear right now i’m so sorry. I will listen when you speak.

Once again I just want to say that I am a busy and uninformed student, and I wish that i had more teachers and authority figures that had objective facts to tell me. It’s suffocating to have fake news everywhere but feel powerless if you don’t know anything

it’s ok if you don’t respond to this

Thank you for your post

Thanks for this message and for taking the time to put it into words and to reflect on your own actions and rhetoric. It takes a lot of courage and self-awareness to admit that you were wrong and that you want to do better, and I'm not going to rip into you or blame you or otherwise shame you for it. So I hope this gives you the confidence to read on without feeling like you'll be raked over the coals for it, and open you to hear some ideas for doing things differently.

First, I do have a ton of sympathy for you as a young person who feels overwhelmed and exhausted by all the evil in the world, and is wondering how to get through it, react to it, or otherwise make some kind of moral response in the face of this soul-crushing trauma. I will say here that I am a little bit older than your average Tumblr user (the majority of this site is in their early-mid twenties), I do personally remember 9/11 and its aftermath when a lot of people here weren't even born yet, and I am an academic historian with a doctorate. That does not mean I am better or smarter or More Perfect or whatever at what I say, but it means that I do have a considerable amount of institutional, formal, and professional practice at analyzing a lot of complex information, putting it into words, breaking it down for less-specialist audiences, pointing out logical fallacies, and so forth.

That is not a skill that everyone has, and in the face of nonstop 24-hour news-cycle social media information overload, it can be incredibly difficult to parse it or understand how you're supposed to respond to it or what your moral obligation in response to this knowledge might be. I wrote this ask the other day in response to someone else asking how to improve their critical thinking skills and be more discerning about what they understood, shared, and analyzed. I strongly encourage you to read it, as it addresses a lot of what you're saying about feeling negative, depressed, panicked, angry, and all the other emotions that are naturally evoked in you from reading this stuff nonstop and feeling like the only thing you can (or should) do is immerse your brain in it at all times. In short, that is absolutely the worst environment to do actual substantial analysis or critical thinking, and it is designed so on purpose.

It has been said before, but it bears repeating: the human brain simply is not designed to be constantly aware of all the atrocities in the world and thus (thanks to social media) feeling as if the only way they can do anything about it is to then post the Correct Opinions on social media (regardless of whether these are informed or relevant or otherwise useful). Especially now, the rush to demonstrate Correct Thinking has warped a lot of otherwise well-meaning young people into becoming eager disinformation mouthpieces. There are a TON of explicitly bad-faith actors and far-right fascists who are posting pro-Palestine content (factual or uh, otherwise) because they know that's an instant way to get an audience of said young left-leaning people who will then be suckered into and exposed to their far more dangerous content and mindset, because that is how radicalization works. Even in the support of an obviously worthy cause, you and everyone else ARE NOT IMMUNE to fearmongering, disinformation, and virulently anti-Semitic propaganda, especially when it's being eagerly and constantly offered in a deliberate attempt to radicalize you further into violence and conspiracy theories, turn you against other vulnerable groups and people, and explicitly disengage you from the electoral/political process, which will harm the Democrats and other liberal establishment parties in favor of more far-right radical fascist theocrats and otherwise make everything, everywhere, many orders of magnitude worse.

I know the feeling that you need to do something, and since you're a long way from the conflict, it seems as if posting on social media is the best and/or the only way to go about it. In that environment, and especially right now, you will make mistakes. I know it is difficult in an online environment where popularity or acceptance by your peers often rests on never being wrong about anything (i.e. saying the same thing everyone else is saying), but it always helps to think about what you're doing, what you're saying, and if you actually need the approval of people who are conditioning you, implicitly or explicitly, into negative and violent ideological nihilism.

The hardest thing to understand is that yes, there is a lot of terrible shit going on in the world; no, you cannot personally fix it and you have to accept that as a limitation; yes, there are many multiple and complex causes and reasons for its existence and there is almost never a black-and-white simplistic moral solution that just hasn't been magically implemented yet; yes, it is always worth it to take the time to inform yourself and consider what you're saying, where it comes from, who it helps and who it hurts, and why you feel the need to say it in the first place. Of course you want to help. Of course you want to stop the needless suffering and death that has gone on in the world for millennia and unfortunately, as long as humans are humans, will continue to do so. But even so, take it away Gandalf:

#anonymous #ask

[dmitrinfinite]

Secret Santa Snippet 2022!

This is a gift for @snowshowerwriting, an awesome friend and writer! I’m glad I got your prompt this year, and since this is my first time posting writing on tumblr I’m pretty excited to see how it turns out. Hope you enjoy!

content warning; implied depression, injury, reference and mild descriptions of nerve damage (hands) (i swear this is hurt/comfort we just have to get past the hurt)

Surely three weeks was enough time for Hero to recover after their last fight - wasn’t it? Villain couldn’t say they knew much about medical stuff aside from how to patch themselves up after a scuffle, but they assumed Hero would’ve at least made an appearance by now. Although, their hands did look pretty messed up after being crushed under falling debris... Falling debris that Villain had knocked loose, and that Hero had pushed Villain away from at the risk of his own life. Uncomfortably guilty about the whole situation, Villain had even held off on any major crimes while they waited for their nemesis to heal. Now, though, as they stood outside the recently robbed bank, there was no sign that Hero was coming to stop them.

“Seriously?” Villain shouted at nobody in particular, causing the crowds of terrified onlookers to flinch back. “Is no one even gonna try and stop me? Do I just get to take all this money without a fight?”

“Sorry I’m late,” said a voice from behind Villain, and they turned to see Other Hero, one of Hero’s colleagues, nimbly leap to the ground. She twirled an elegant blade between her fingers.

“What are you doing here?” Villain asked, raising an eyebrow. Normally Other Hero was busy breaking up gang fights or busting shady underground markets, not dealing with high profile criminals. “Where’s Hero?”

“You didn’t hear?” Other Hero snorted, stalking closer. “Boss says we can’t have traitors on our team - Hero almost died to save you, so… y’know. We had to kick him off the squad. I guess you’re happy about that, considering you’ve got one less threat to deal with. Not like he’d be useful to us now anyway, not with those fucked up hands.”

“Shit,” Villain whispered, dropping the bag of money in their hands. Wasn’t that what they’d always wanted? To have their nemesis out of the way? No… not like this. Villain was supposed to take over and sit on a throne while everyone kneeled at his feet, not shove the only tolerable hero on the force to the sidelines. Before they had any more time to think, Other Hero advanced. They dodged her strike and jumped back, summoning a swirl of icicles in their hand. Incensed by his own folly and Other Hero’s sadistic smirk alike, they struck.

-

The thing is, Villain had discovered Hero’s civilian identity a while ago. It was purely by accident, after they’d recognised him entering his apartment while on a little looting spree a while back. They hadn’t felt the need to bring it up, nor did they feel like playing dirty. If it were any other hero, Villain probably wouldnt hesitate - but they wanted a fair fight with Hero. They wanted to share an adrenaline rush with him as they both stood on even ground, powers crashing together in terrific bursts of energy.

Now, though, as Villain slipped through the window in the late afternoon, they couldn’t care less about keeping their discovery a secret. They had to see Hero - he would certainly be down in the dumps after losing his job and suffering what was without doubt a painful injury.

“What are you doing here?” Hero’s voice asked from the dark, and Villain cursed themselves for not checking if Hero was in his bedroom before using it to sneak in. “You need to go, I- we can’t fight anymore. I don’t work for them.” As he spoke, Villain realised just how hoarse and shaky Hero’s voice sounded. He turned on the lamp and looked at Villain with tired, searching eyes.

“I’m not here to fight,” Villain said quietly, “I came to apologise. You know, about your job. That was really my fault.”

“Oh,” Hero replied, glancing away. He got out from under the covers and trudged across the room, motioning for Villain to follow. “I’m not all that hung up on the job.” As he walked, his clenched fists were shaking violently. Was he angry? No, wait - Other Hero had mentioned his ‘fucked up hands,’ maybe they were jittery from the injury. That seemed to be the case when Hero reached up to flick on the light, fumbling with the switch for a few moments. He crossed the living room, Villain following cautiously behind.

If they were in Hero’s apartment under any normal circumstances, they’d probably be teasing them to hell and back about how it was small and messy - more like cute and cozy, but they wouldn’t admit that - but today they fought the urge. Something was very wrong.

“Here,” Hero said flatly, sitting on a black stool in front of an elegant upright piano. It was probably the most expensive thing in the room. “Between fights, after a bad day, when I was overwhelmed… I played. I’ve been taking lessons for ten years now, and I bought this piano after saving up for ages.” His face brightened a little as he spoke, and Villain felt their chest buzz with warmth until Hero looked at them, eyes wet and hands trembling as he gripped the piano lid.

“I can’t do it anymore,” he whispered, a shake in his voice, and Villain’s heart sank. “I don’t care about my job, I- I’m not even mad at you, and I don’t re- regret saving you, not for a moment!” He stood up, clasping his hands together, desperately trying to still them. “But I… I can’t do this. I can’t write, or type without having to redo every word a dozen times, and I can’t play anymore. I can’t distract myself from the fucking mess my life is right now.”

Wordlessly, guilt swelling in their chest, Villain moved to sit on the stool beside him and opened up the piano.

“I don’t remember much,” they said softly, “But I used to play a little too.” They guided Hero to place his unsteady hands on the keys and rested their own on top. Buried deep in Villain’s muscle memory was a classical piece they’d learned years ago, back when life was simpler and they didn’t have to fight and steal to survive. Back when they didn’t have ‘allies’ and ‘enemies’, when they didn’t have to pretend the one person they looked forward to seeing each day was their nemesis in a bitter rivalry.

Pushing those yearning thoughts away, they looked at Hero for permission. He nodded, still looking at the keys, and Villain tried to remember the piece. The muscle memory was still with them, and for that they were thankful, but they’d never exactly had to play it with an extra pair of hands under their own. Though the sweet melody occasionally peeked through, the song was mostly a jumble of wrong notes and fumbled chords. Villain tensed, worried that their attempts to be cute and comforting had only made things worse. To their surprise, though, Hero turned his hands over and laced them with Villain’s, which put them in what was without a doubt an awkward position, but Villain felt a pleasant flutter in their stomach.

“That was awful,” Hero remarked, but he was smiling. Smiling, so softly and knowingly in a way only he could. “But it… it helped, I think.” Villain averted their eyes as if it’d help hide the embarrassingly obvious blush on their face. As they looked across the room, it dawned on them just how cluttered and dark the apartment really was.

“Have you been sitting alone in your apartment all this time?” they asked, and Hero’s smile dropped a little.

“I don’t have anyone to visit, much less anyone who’ll visit me,” he replied, and now it was his turn to sheepishly glance away. “Not since the team labeled me a traitor.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Villain said. At Hero’s hesitant nod, they continued, “And, since you’re already apparently a traitor to those ‘heroes,’ it’s not like we have to pretend to hate each other anymore.” They offered a mischievous grin, which Hero weakly returned.

“Would you mind, then, um… would you mind sticking around for a while?” He asked before Villain could make the offer. All they could do was nod, slowly untangling their hands and putting an arm around Hero’s shoulders. He rested his head in the crook of Villain’s neck and let out a slow sigh, hands shaking again as he placed them in his lap.

“Thank you for saving me back there, by the way. I-I’m sorry you got hurt in the process. I wish I could go back and… Hell, maybe I’d stop you from doing it.” Villain whispered, anxious and guilty at the thought but elated by their close contact in equal measure. Hero simply shifted in a little closer, and Villain could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke.

“Nothing could stop me from keeping you safe. Not even you.”

#hxvsecretsanta #writing #hxv #hero x villain #villain x hero #writeblr #hurt/comfort #slight whump

[pianocat939]

Hi there, i would like to request a blurb if that's alright

i was wondering how your wonderful Yandere boys would react if they saw the long-healed but still visible self-harm scars on their loved one? (any place is suitable for scars btw) the funny thing is is that they would see these scars purely by chance, since their beloved constantly walks in closed clothes, because they don't want people to stare or something ( totally not projecting here hehe)

It is totally okay if you don't want to write it though!! Drink water, have a great day/evening/night!!(Love your blog by the way, byeeeee)

Did I just unleash a new wave of traumatized people wanting to read about their comfort characters with my recent post?

TW: past self-injury, slight mention of stalking, Leo gets depressed, manipulation, be very cautious if this is a touchy topic

✦Rattler of the Beans✦

He stills, eyes widening at the sight of the marks. It was a brief reveal, but he saw it crystal clear. He doesn't pry, and acts everything is fine, but around the times when you're not near, he chisels down any sharp objects in fear you may do something harmful again. He tends to be more watchful over you, whether it's watching you through the window or clinging to you, he's not going to let you exhibit these harmful behaviours. "You've got nothing to do tomorrow, right? Then why won't you stay the night over?"

✦Lanky Goat Rider✦

Gonna be honest with you guys, this is going to further put him in his "I'm useless" state. "Wow, I truly am a failure, aren't I?" It's hits him hard that he couldn't even protect the one person he loves from themselves and places him in a conflicted state. On one hand, he wants to do the whatever it takes to keep you out of harm's way, but on the other, he wants to sink in a pit of depression. So, in the end, he does everything to keep you unharmed but anything else he's going to be depresso espresso.

✦Do Re Mi Fa Sol La Ti Do✦

Drama Queen #1. I'm sorry if this may trigger you, but he's going to inspect any body part that has the scars. And while he does so, he's going to ask questions. It doesn't matter if you try to brush it off, he takes it as a big deal and will not rest until he knows he has everything to never let you do this again. His eyes are crazy with madness, and might even keep you with him at all times (minus when he goes to battle). "Nope, come back here. You're not supposed to leave my side, I need to take the precautions to ensure your health."

✦Hey Macarena✦

Flabbergasted af. He questions why you would do this to yourself; why would anyone harm such a wonderful person like you? It pains him so much he'll cry and attack you with a hug and not letting go. "Why?! Who hurt you so bad that you hurt yourself? I- it kills me!" Straight bawling and mumbling that he's going to always stick to you so you don't witness it ever again. Babies you a shit ton and might even get Dr. Feelings out. Now, when I say Dr. Feelings I mean it'll be like a therapist but with a lot of reassurance. He'll be giving a compliment every other sentence.

(Idk how to feel rn. There isn't much to say...)

(Jfc my house is freezing. I can't believe the heater broke down in the middle of winter and it's going to be broken for another week ;-;)

#yandere rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt2018 #tmnt #tmnt x reader #yandere tmnt #yandere #yandere x reader #blurbs

[not-poignant]

Hi Pia

I'm so sorry you've been experiencing difficulties recently. I'm sending all my love and light your way and hope you start to feel a little less shitty soon.

P.s - Do you mind sharing your tiktok so we can follow you there too? Or is it a private acc?

Lots of love to you <3

It's not private! It's just not updated very often. Overall I'm more active on Instagram. But neither are private. The Tiktok is very art-focused so it might not be what you're looking for. But it's also pretty harmless overall.

And thank you anon <3

The last few days I had to stop writing and like...quickly redo my schedule for December and cut it back a little, which always makes me sad, but I'm trying to conserve my mental health as well as my physical. I realised I met all the criteria for a pretty serious depressive episode late last week (I have, alongside severe PTSD, Major Depressive Disorder, which is the one that will kill me if I don't keep an eye on it -> though I'm happy to report I'm not like in a very like 'I don't want to live' space right now, I can just tell I'm feeling / experiencing a lot of the red flags that go in that direction), and if I don't act now, that tends to lead to pretty bad places.

So I've redone the schedule for December and that will come out likely on Friday or Saturday. And then I'll only be posting during January for half of the month, and not the whole month, and taking off two weeks re: posting. Hopefully these are the sorts of things which will head off me needing to go into hiatus because I desperately don't want to do that <3

I can already tell I'm doing a little better after being a lot firmer with some boundaries, and also just...with myself re: taking more time off. I wish I didn't feel so guilty about it? But that's not anyone's fault here, that's shit to work on with my therapist/s, lol.

Today I spent around 3 hours researching a response to an ask (whoops), and then realised - not through any one person's actions but a bunch at once - that I need to kind of stop engaging with facecast stuff (nothing wrong with facecasting, the problem is wholly on me there and I wish I'd seen that sooner and saved people some pain and saved me from some rudeness).

I put away the shopping (we have a really good grocery delivery system here which is great for my disabilities etc.), and had some raspberries, and put on the Christmas tree lights.

I was so tired at lunch that I could only manage a bowl of cereal (and couldn't eat breakfast. I think my therapist would be like 'why are you putting three hours of research into responding to something instead of focusing on eating food' but well, whoops? Lol. To be fair I thought it would be way easier to answer, but Tumblr's search function is SO broken).

I fed my wonderful cat, Maybe, and got some sleep in the afternoon and then did some writing (1,200 words) on Palmarosa. It's like 7.00pm right now, and I'm going to put up some chapter commentaries on Patreon and Ream.

Tonight I might do some watercolour art, and I'm hoping to finish Palmarosa tomorrow.

December is actually a hard time of year for me anyway. It's the month that has the most chronological / time-based triggers, and my therapists know this and I'm hearing a lot of 'how are you in the lead up to December' which is about to become 'how are you coping with December.'

I'm grateful for small pleasures. Like my dahlias are looking pretty awesome right now. Here's some photos of this week (some art I'm working on, Maybe being cute, or screm, dahlia, Christmas set up, T-Rex ornament, Santa Platypus ornament):

#asks and answers #personal #lots of love to you too anon i hope you like the photos #that pride blanket was crocheted by my mum #i never have a themed christmas it's just #20 years of collected decorations salfjkas

[m4ndysk4nkovich]

here's a question, what do you think happens to Debbie (and Franny) post s11? Personally I'm not a fan of the idea that Debbie would go off with Heidi after she fought tooth and nail to stay in her own house, plus Heidi is...not really what I'd picture for a good ending to Debbie's story. What would you see being a good post script for Debs?

ahhhh i love you for asking this

i mean, there's a part of me that wants to say that everything will go great for them, but i think that it'll be rough for a little while.

to answer the heidi thing (which i have talked about many times before but this ask is a little bit old lol sorry!), she will not last. she'll be gone in like, a week, and will never be heard from again. i think that the finale made that pretty clear, even though other people interpreted it in other ways. when heidi mentioned texas, debbie looked hesitant, and considering how she spent the past season fighting for this house, and the past eleven seasons fighting for her family, there isn't a single part of me that thinks she will be leaving for texas and if she does, her kid will be coming with her 100%.

but anyways, debbie will be going through it. she will have lost her father and her girlfriend in the same week or so and given her abandonment issues, i think she'll probably break. she'll have a whole breakdown over it, then be a bit depressed for a month or two, and then i think she'll slowly start to feel better. also, something that nobody talks about for some reason is the fact that post-11x12 all of the gallaghers (including mickey, tami, kevin, and veronica) all most likely get covid since they were all around frank and like touching him and shit, so that will probably happen.

i think that, as always, she'll pick herself up on her own and fix everything herself. her business will thrive, maybe she'll help out at the alibi if carl and tipping buy it (i hc that they do), but i think that money-wise she'll be set.

she and lip will definitely still have some conflict. every gallagher kid has a complex, difficult relationship with frank (i've actually been writing about this) but these two and frank have always stuck out to me (but they all stick out to me, honestly). i think that since the two of them were already fighting and are both notoriously awful at handling their emotions shit will go down.

debbie will keep the house since it's been in her name since the season nine finale (i mean duh, why would lip get to sell HER house??), lip, tami, and fred will move to milwaukee but then lip and tami will split up and it'll be messy, maybe he'll come back to chicago and they'll get split custody, carl will live there for another year or two, liam will live there until he graduates, and ian and mickey will move back to the south side. debbie will feel uneasy because of all of the change, so she'll insist on family dinners weekly, absolutely NO exceptions (you could be sick with some sort of flesh eating virus and she'd still demand that you attend).

she will never fully process losing frank. even dead, he still manages to fuck her over. i think that she'll set up a memorial for him a lot like the one she set up in 3x01.

if she reads the letter it'll fuck her up even more and i'm hoping that she gets therapy (i have a fic in my drafts about this lol) to help her deal with trauma, abandonment issues, grief, and help her navigate parenting while being only twenty.

i seriously just wish her the best because season eleven really made me realize how much she actually needs help.

live laugh debbie gallagher

#shameless #shameless us #shameless meta #debbie gallagher #franny gallagher #heidi shameless #post-finale #11x12

[wri0thesley]

I am so sorry if this is invasive and weird, but may I ask what you work as? I'm at the stage where I have to build my future and I know you don't have an age specified but you seem to be doing really well (at least from the posts we've seen, again I really hope not to be invasive) for yourself and your partner and 25+ is still young! Again, I hope this isn't mean or weird, I'm just curious. (and severely nervous. First year of college is ruining me harder than any fictional man.)

ahh anon i'm afraid that the answer is probably not what you're looking for!

for the record, i am 27, i just find getting fandom older a little scary, especially having it listed right there!!!

i actually intended to be a performer and a singing teacher (my degree was going to be in music & musical theatre); unfortunately, due to a plethora of reasons (mostly my undiagnosed autism, unmedicated ocd/depression/anxiety combo, a nervous breakdown and my partner's physical health declining) i dropped out of my degree before the end of my first semester.

for about three years or so after that i was severely agoraphobic. talking 'can't answer the door' agoraphobic; 'never left the house alone, and even when with someone only went to the doctors and therapy' agoraphobic, 'rotted in my bedroom in an absolutely non romanticised way' agoraphobic. i was on the equivalent of disability because i literally could not function. meanwhile, my partner, who lived with me and my parents was getting physically worse whilst i was mentally struggling (since then haz has been diagnosed with ehlers danlos syndrome, fibromyalgia, lipoedema, thyroid issues and a lot of other things; they have a lot going on). i DID access several therapies, had . . . a couple of very bad relapses, went under crisis teams and all of that stuff (i had occupational therapy too which was HONESTLY i think one of the most useful things and helpful things for me in the long run; i cannot imagine what i would be like if i hadn't had the occupational therapist the crisis team found for me).

(coincidentally, if you are an og jojo follower you probably remember how bad it was; i've said it a hundred times, but running this silly little reader-insert blog probably helped save my life at a time when i had almost no contact with the outside world. i couldn't leave my bedroom, but i had my blog and i had my little internet friends and discord server).

i have gotten a lot better.

haz, unfortunately, has not gotten better physically and probably never will. they need help with a lot of things most people don't even realise disabled people might need help with. brushing their hair, fastening clothes . . . when haz first moved in, they were doing the same dance-intensive college course that i was. we danced maybe three or four hours a day. nowadays, haz needs me to hold their hand and keep them steady when they go from our bed to the bathroom (the room next door).

so i don't really 'work' as anything. well, my therapist would tell me off for saying that; the uk government classes me as an 'unpaid carer', which basically means i am on call for haz literally 24/7 and they pay me the pittance that is carer's allowance (carer's allowance assumes you care at least 35 hours a week, and pays you the privilege of about 45 pence per each of those hours. if, like me, you live with the person you care for and do more than those hours, it gets . . . yeah. oof. the government unfortuately know that most unpaid carers are loved ones and family members of the person who needs care and won't just stop doing it, and they'd be in the shit if we did because trained carers are expensive, so they can get away with that - FUCK the tories, honestly.

i am EXCEEDINGLY lucky that i live in a cheap area of the uk, that haz and i are internet savvy enough to be able to access carers/disability discounts, that we are in rent-controlled social housing (which my crisis team helped find for us because living with my parents was taking such a toll on us both, woo!!!!), and that we've been able to access services to help on the nhs. i got my autism assessment and diagnosis; haz is under several pain management teams.

all in all, i'm happy. i'm so much happier than i was seven years ago when i'd dropped out of university and felt like a huge failure, because all of my life i was a gifted overachiever and i thought my self-worth was tied to my academic achievements (and as an extension, what roles i got in what shows and when and who saw me and so on). i don't have a lot of money (i am a bargain shopped fgbnkjgjnfb) but i know what i like and because i'm Older Now (tm) i've amassed collections of it.

i am absolutely sure that you'll boss college, anon! that you will find that thing that works for you (one day i would LOVE to go back and get my degree! pre-covid i had an acceptance for a creative writing degree and i was getting ready to go back to uni as a mature student, but haz's health got bad again and then covid happens - and now ofc i have my autism diagnosis i can access so much more help!). but even if you don't, you can absolutely find happiness without 'traditional' success.

i don't have a lot in the grand scheme of things. but you're right in that i am doing pretty well, in terms of where i am, and where i've been. i have my own little home. i have my partner of ten years who is my soulmate in every conceivable way. i've had experiences that make me feel so happy i sometimes cry when i remember them. i have my own little cat now!!! things still stress me out. but i have come so so far and when i feel down i remember that.

good luck anon! i believe in you <3

#nat.txt

[kingdaddydaichi]

Asahi’s favorite memory: when you confessed your feelings for him…

☼ a/n: sfw, gn!reader, this is a cute little fluffy drabble that i found buried deep in my long ass wip list. i wrote it almost a year ago and guess i never got around to posting it? it’s been a hot minute since i’ve turned something out for my sugar bear asahi so here you go, asahi simps <3

☼ wc: 1.1k

☼ tagging: @crystal-lilac

The two of you had been friends for several months after meeting each other.

You’d go to art museums and old gardens together.

You’d go to his games and shout loudly, clapping and calling his name out, which embarrassed him to no end, but he secretly loved it.

You’d hang out at each other's places, eating/drinking/watching documentaries/reading.

You got sick once and he missed practice to come over and take care of you.

He got injured during a match one day and had no choice but to sit out the rest of the game. You went with him to his team's athletic/sports clinic, but had to stay in the waiting area when they called him. Half an hour later he came back out with his ankle taped up and doctor's orders to not play for a minimum of 3 weeks.

Asahi was so depressed.

You took him home, wishing you could be of more help as he hobbled to the passenger side of your car. You stayed with him for the first couple of hours after getting him home, making sure he kept his ankle elevated and iced as ordered.

To help keep him off his feet you made him dinner - his favorite, your own take on tonkotsu ramen. He devoured it with constant praises about how good it was.

After cleaning up, you brought him a fresh ice pack. He smiled and took you by the wrist, pulling you down to sit on the couch next to him.

"Sit down and relax. You deserve a break, (y/n)."

You plopped down next to him, his long arm falling across your shoulders as your thigh brushed against his.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked.

"Hm? Doing what?"

"Taking such good care of me?"

You looked down at your hands and blushed. "Do you not know, Asahi?" you whispered, still unable to meet his gaze.

Both of your hearts were pounding. It was double or nothing. The deciding moment - would you confess and risk making things weird? Or would you go on to remain ‘just friends’?

"I think I might," he said, "but it's not something I want to say out loud in case I'm wrong."

You pulled all your wits into one small space within you and drew your legs up to turn and face him, looking up into his big, brown eyes. Hopeful.

"Asa, I-" you looked away, faltering for a second before wrangling your courage back in. Meeting his eyes again, you continued, "I think- no, I know...that I have umm..." His eyes grew wider as he shifted next to you. "Oh shit. I have feelings for you, Asahi. I'm so sorry!" You buried your face in your hands in embarrassment.

He didn't move or say anything for several seconds. You started to think you'd definitely ruined your friendship with him and hung your head, ashamed.

But then you felt his warm fingers curl around yours, encouraging you to move your hands away from your face. When you peeked, you saw the same big, brown eyes, softer now. And he was smiling.

"Like, romantic feelings?" He needed to know for sure.

Your hands flew back to your face and laughing you said, "Yes! Omg stop making it worse, Asa!"

He chuckled before prying at your fingers again. "Look at me, (y/n)."

You were so nervous you could've cried.

"Don't be sorry..." he trailed off, his eyes dipping to your lips.

He cupped your face in his huge hand, gently pulling you towards him as he lowered his lips to yours in a tender, chaste kiss.

Your fingers swept over his hand and without opening your eyes, you breathed his name as a question. He hummed from deep inside his chest, his cheeks dusted with warm pink while your own felt hot, especially with his breath ghosting across your skin before pulling away to look at you.

"I've had a crush on you since the day I met you," he whispered.

“No, you haven't. You're just sayi-"

Asahi interrupted, "The way you kept looking away every time I looked at you. The way you smiled at me like I was the best thing you'd never known."

Your breath caught in your throat. It was true, but how did he know that? Had you really been that easy to read?

"The way you giggled when I stumbled on my words,” he went on. “The way you made me want to know you. To spend time with you. To just...have you in my life, close to me."

“Stop it, Asa, you're gonna make me cry! Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I'm chicken shit!” he admitted with a laugh. “And by the time I felt confident enough to tell you, we'd already become pretty good friends and I didn't want to fuck that up." He kissed your forehead. “I’m sorry, (y/n), I should’ve said something…”

You shook your head at him. “No, if I don’t get to be sorry, then neither do you.”

He smiled. “Fair enough.”

There was a long, comfortable silence.

“So…what do we do now?” you asked.

“I think we’re supposed to start dating or something.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. But how’s that any different from what we already do?”

“I guess we just keep doing what we’ve been doing – hanging out, spending time together. Only now I’m pretty sure we get to kiss and hold hands and make our friends uncomfortable by openly flirting with each other.”

You couldn’t hold back anymore. You lunged at him, throwing your arms around his neck, squealing into his shoulder, loving the sound of his laughter right against you and the feeling of his arms wrapping around you, pulling you in closer.

You pulled back enough to look up at him smiling back at you as you brushed a stray strand away from his handsome face, your fingers burying themselves in the thickness of his long hair.

“I wanna kiss you again, Asa.”

“Then kiss me.”

You touched your lips to his before pressing into them, slow and measured. You wanted to savor every detail of this kiss. His thumb swept across your jaw, pulling you into him as he opened his lips against yours.

Your hearts were pounding, your breaths shallow and shaky when you pushed against each other’s tongues.

This went on for a few minutes, having turned into a full-blown makeout session. Both pairs of hands were dangerously close to going too far, too soon. He pulled away first, panting, his eyes lidded with desire.

“Shit, we shouldn’t…yet” You nodded in full agreement. He was right. “Need to take things slow. I want us to go slow.”

“So do I. No need to rush.”

You settled in close to him, his strong arm wrapped around you while you mindlessly played with each other’s fingers, talking and laughing about ways to make your friends uncomfortable.

a. azumane m.list

#asahi #azumane #asahi azumane #asahi x y/n #asahi x you #asahi x reader #asahi x gn!reader #asahi fluff #asahi drabble #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #karasuno x reader #haikyuu #hq #karasuno

[blooming-violets]

[Under the Silver Lake, Sam x Fem!Character]

Summary: Sam relocates after the events of UtSL and stumbles into the life of a new, captivating woman with an enticing profession. He can’t seem to keep his eyes off her. 

Warnings: 18+ smut, panty stealing, voyeurism and masturbation, porn making, use of the word “cunt” (I know some people don’t like that word so adding it to the warnings), mentions of a graphic suicide

A/N: Merry Christmas, @squiddtheekidd​ here’s some Sam smut for you. Kind of. He doesn’t actually fuck anyone in it. Except for himself. Sorry for the spoilers. ily I didn’t intend for this to be posted on Christmas but it happened that way and I can’t stop it. Santa has me on the naught list.

His new apartment was about half the size of his last one and lacked the artistic charm. 

Four, stark white walls with light gray laminate, fake hardwood flooring and zero furniture. A vacant, rectangular void created to purge a person of all their quirks. Whoever thought gray floors and white minimalism should be the new trend deserved to be tarred and feathered. Most of the furniture at his old place came with the apartment. He had to sell the rest of his belongings when he left. Apparently when you don’t work or make any money, landlords don’t take it well when you can’t afford rent. In a last ditch effort to avoid homelessness, he sold nearly everything he owned and grabbed the first cheap place he could find. 

That’s what Sam did best.

Like a parasite searching for a new host, he sought out someplace fresh to sink his teeth into and drain of life. 

At least the skunk smell had finally worn off. That was a shining positive he couldn’t ignore. 

One week spent at this apartment and he had only acquired an old, leather couch he found on the side of the road which he paid two homeless men five dollars to carry upstairs for him. One couch and a trash bag full of his dirty clothes was all that he possessed. As he stared at the crumpled bag sitting across from him, Sam took a deep breath and pushed himself off his ass. He might as well take advantage of the laundry room this building had. 

The bag slung over his shoulder like a disheveled, depressed Santa Claus as he shuffled into the basement. The overhead light flickered a few times before finally illuminating the large room with a persistence, static humming sound. The smell of musty mildew hit his nose. There were four old washers against the far back wall and a row of dryers opposite them to match. A, once white, now yellowed ironing board was set up next to washers and a wooden bench, missing a few slats across the seat, was perched next to it all. It wasn’t much but neither was he. 

Sam flipped his bag upside down to dump the pile of clothes into the wash. After putting in his cheap detergent, he attempted to turn on the machine, only to find none of the buttons working. 

“Come on, you piece of shit,” he grumbled, slamming his fist against the side. 

“That one doesn’t work.” 

A scratchy, feminine voice filled the empty space behind him. Sam turned around, already putting a dazed smile onto his scruffy face, as he sought his sights on the woman. She was standing in the doorway with a purple laundry basket tucked under her arm. She looked vaguely familiar but he couldn’t quite place her. 

“It’s supposed to have an out of order sign on it but the asshole kid from 3B thinks it’s hilarious to take it off.” She sighed, walking in further to claim a spot by the washer at the end of the line. “He also thinks it’s funny to stick gum under door knobs so watch out for that.” 

Sam nodded, looking down at his feet, finding it hard to make eye contact with her, “Oh…okay. Thank you.” He started pulling handfuls of his clothes out of the broken washer to relocate them to the one next to hers. “I just moved in right next to 3B so I have a feeling I’ll be at the mercy of his attacks. I hate it when kids are assholes.” 

“You moved into 3A? You must have gotten it for dirt cheap then.” 

He blinked. The apartment was a lot cheaper than anything else on the market but he never thought to ask why. 

Like she was reading his mind, she continued, “Yeah, the guy who lived there last, blew his head off with a sawed off shotgun. The thing is, though, was that he did it during the Fourth of July fireworks so no one heard the gunshot. Guess he was an old veteran or something. PTDS, probably. Anyway, his body laid there for the entire month. No one noticed he was dead until rent was due. By then his body was all gross because of the heat. Congealed and shit. He was starting to liquify. There were millions of flies everywhere. The smell was awful but, of course, no one does shit in this building to fix things. We thought it was a dead raccoon for a while until the smell got worse. They had to scrape him off the floor and his brains off the wall. No matter how hard they cleaned, they couldn’t get rid of the stains. I heard they threw some laminate tiles over the hardwood and painted over the walls to hide the red.”

Sam grimaced at the imagery she was providing him with. Now that he thought about it, the apartment did smell weird. Smells weren’t something he typically took much notice of though. 

“But you get it for cheap so that’s a plus! Death for one person means financial help for another.” She flashed him a cheery smile, not at all bothered by the death talk. 

“Why do you think I need financial help?” He asked. 

She snorted and raised her brows like it was obvious, “You’re doing laundry out of a trash bag, moved into a blood covered apartment, and look like you haven’t slept in about two weeks.” 

He chuckled to himself, “Okay, you’re right. I’m poor.” 

“Who isn’t struggling out here? Welcome to LA. It’s a land of struggle and failure.” She bent over to put the last of her things into her washer and glanced up at him. A wave of perfectly sculpted hair fell over her right eye to block off half of her face from his view. 

“Veronica Lake,” he whispered. 

Her brows pulled together in confusion, “Excuse me?”

Sam cleared his throat and felt the back of his neck heat up in embarrassment, “Sorry, sorry. You just…you looked like Veronica Lake for a minute. You’re hair. My, uhm, my mother used to watch a lot of old movies. Veronica Lake was famous for her hair. It was straight at the top and wavy at the bottom and would cover one of her eyes. When you leaned over just then, your hair looked like that. Elegant and old fashioned and perfect…” 

Her piercing eyes bore into him. He struggled to read her thoughts but that wasn’t unusual. He always struggled to read women. He couldn’t tell if she was insulted or charmed by his strange observation. Either way, he made a mental note to go home and jerk off to The Blue Dahlia later while thinking about her. She was beautiful. And so familiar. Not because her hair resembled the old Hollywood actress but for something else. 

“Hey, are you planning on hanging around for a while?” She asked, ignoring his vacant stare as he struggled to remember her face. 

He shrugged, “I guess so. I don’t really have anywhere else to go.” 

“Want to do me a huge favor? I have a work appointment in twenty minutes. If you could pull my clothes out and throw them in the dryer when you switch over yours, that would be amazing.” 

He nodded again, unable to say no to a pretty face, and gave her a smile, “Yeah, no problem.” 

“Cool, thanks!” She flipped her perfect hair over her shoulder and picked up her empty basket. “I’ll see you around, 3A.” 

“Sam,” he managed to call after her. “My name is Sam.

The sound of the washer’s alert buzzing jerked him from his sleep. Sam wiped the drool from his chin and blinked around, trying to remember where he was. He must have dozed off on the wooden bench. He didn’t remember falling asleep but he pushed himself off the hard seat with a deep groan. The back of his neck was killing him from his head flopping to the side while he napped. 

Her machine had finished before his. 

Sam looked around the empty basement and wondered what kind of work appointment she had to attend. What did she do for a living? How old was she? Did she have a boyfriend? He wondered what apartment she lived in. She was pretty, whoever she was. He wanted to run his hands through her wavy, Veronica Lake hair. The image of her head snapping back as he wrapped a fistful of those soft waves into his fist and drove his cock into her wet pussy flashed through his brain like a strike of lightning. He gave a sleepy smile. He wanted to fuck her. At least he had a goal now. He didn’t like feeling aimless and floaty. He needed to have something to do to keep his mind busy. Hopefully she would be that thing. 

He pulled open the washer and scooped out an armful of her wet clothes then walked over to the nearest dryer to toss them in. This would give him Good Boy Points in her eyes. She would be pleased he was helping her out and doing as she asked. Maybe he could get a blowjob as a reward. If he knew what apartment she lived in he would even be willing to hand deliver all her dried clothes when they were finished. Fuck, he’d even fold them for her if she asked. It wasn’t like he had any money to spend on her. In order to win her over to his side, he’d have to charm her instead. 

Another washer buzzed to signal that his clothes were finished as well. He scooped them up and dropped them into the dryer directly next to hers. Then he stood back and watched the hypnotic swirling motion as her clothes tumbled in circles through the heat. Round and round and round. So much purple and black. His drier resembled more of a mismatched rainbow of colors. Her’s felt darker and more mysterious. 

A devious thought popped into his head then. 

Sam sought his sights to the door. He couldn’t hear anyone coming and he was clearly alone. He quickly pulled open her dryer. The clothes came to a stop, sticking to the walls. Sitting directly on the top of a damp, black blouse was a simple, lavender thong. It was practically calling out to him. His eyes darted to the door once more before snatching it from the pile and shoving it deep into his sweatshirt pocket. 

This was fine. This was okay. She wouldn’t notice one piece of underwear missing. She’d probably just assume the washer ate it. He lost his clothes all the time. 

Sam stepped back, despite weighing next to nothing, the thong felt heavy as a rock in his pocket. His fingers slipped over the fabric. It was damp and cold, the heat from the dryer already evaporating. He wished he had stolen it before it got washed. He could have smelled her scent clinging to it. That was alright, he could make do with what he was given. The familiar, uncomfortable ache in his crotch returned. He tried to adjust the front of his jeans to better accommodate his stiffening manhood. Just merely possessing a part of her was enough to get him hard. He had to walk it off. 

Despite nearing the beginning of Autumn, California weather remained the same. It was comfortably warm and sunny outside. The afternoon sky was a deep blue as he aimlessly strolled around his new apartment building. He hadn’t done much exploring yet. Not that there was much to explore. His mystery woman’s thong stayed laced through his fingers, hidden in the safety of his pocket, as he walked. His thumb ran over the small piece of fabric that covered her most intimate parts. It would have rubbed over her cunt anytime she moved. He pretended that he was fingering her tight folds instead of an article of damp clothing. He wondered what she would look like with her legs spread just for him. 

A guttural moan stopped him dead in his tracks. Sam had wandered around to the back side of the apartments. Nothing but desert hills stood behind them. His ears perked up in the hopes of hearing that familiar noise once more. 

A low, feminine whine, followed by a whimper, and then the sound of a man’s shuddered sigh. 

He would know those noises anywhere. Someone was fucking. 

Sam took a few steps back away from the building wall and casually inched closer to the source of the noise. Someone’s window was open. When he finally located the culprit, his heart leapt into his throat. The blinds were left wide open, probably due to there being nothing in the back of the building, and the window was open halfway so the intoxicating noise floated out to fill his ears. It was his laundry room girl. His Veronica Lake haired beauty. She was sitting on the floor of her bedroom, facing the window, between the legs of a toned, muscular man. They were both stark naked. He had her legs hooked on either side of his so he could keep them pried open. His fingers were buried deep inside of her soaking pussy. Even from the quick glance he got through the window he would tell how wet she was. The couple were sitting directly in front of a camera that was aimed and filming their every move. 

Sam gulped, his erection springing to life with a force even he wasn’t used to. He stumbled back away from the window and ducked behind the nearest, half dead palm tree. If he wasn’t so skinny it would have been obvious where he was hiding but, luckily, he managed to fit nicely behind the trunk. 

“Holy shit,” he whispered to himself. 

They were filming a sex tape. Or a porn. Or livestream. Or something. This was her “work appointment”. 

And then it hit him. 

He knew exactly where he had seen her face before. She appeared in a porn he watched ages ago, the summer after he graduated highschool, when he still lived with his mom. Someone had been handing out vhs tapes at an underground party he once attended. He remembered thinking it was weird that someone was still using vhs. He took the mystery tape, of course. He never turned down free shit. He had to dig up an old player from a pile of junk in his mother’s garage to watch it. 

The video started with a black and white title screen labeled “The Vampire’s Kiss”. It was done in the style of an old Hollywood movie. That would explain her hair style. She was embracing her niche role. She had worn a long, sheer nightgown and pretended to be asleep when a man with fangs crawled through her window. It was a silent film cued with title cards of vague, written dialogue to push the loose plot along. She was tied up by her nighttime stalker, her dress torn from her, and her body crudely displayed to the audience as the vampire sucked her blood. It looked real, too. Well, as real as an old style film could. She looked like she was really bleeding and that man was really drinking from her neck. Sam remembered jerking off to her black and white pussy almost every night that year. It wasn’t until his mother caught him one evening that she hit him over the head with a broom handle and forced him to throw out such filth. He moved out the next month but, sadly, lost the tape forever. 

It was strange to see her in color now. This new film seemed to be much different than whatever pornographic art she made in the past. This looked less artistic and more straightforward. He wished he could remember her name. He peeked out from behind his tree to watch her work. The man was still fingering her. To be honest, he didn’t seem very good at it, but she was acting like it was the best thing she ever felt in her life by the way she was moaning. Sam could do better. He could make her really moan. None of this fake porn shit. He could make her scream if he wanted to. 

Before he knew it, his jeans were unzipped and his cock was wrapped around her thong as he used it to pleasure himself. That should be him in there. He should be the one with her. 

She shoved her partner’s hand away from between her legs and made him stand up. Sam watched as she better positioned him in front of her camera as she fell to her knees. The moment she opened her mouth to receive his massive dick, Sam slumped against the spiky tree bark as his knees went weak. He wanted to remember every single detail. This would go straight into his spank bank for the next few months. He had never been treated to such a live show before. 

She looked remarkably like an expert at sucking a cock. Happy, even, like the feeling of her mouth being stuffed was everything she could have wanted. The man’s moans helped cover the tiny squeaks of pleasure coming out of his own mouth. He furiously beat his meat into her panties as he watched. She was such a little whore. Her long hair was tossed back and cascading down her smooth back. Her ass was sticking out from between her legs. It looked in desperate need of a face buried between her cheeks. Her entire body was responding with such vigor to the simple act of having a cock her mouth. It was like nothing he had witnessed. No woman had ever been that excited to give him a blow job before. Not even the ones he had paid to act enthusiastic. Her hands toyed with the base of the man’s cock and fondled his balls as she swallowed him whole. Sam nearly tumbled to the ground when he watched her hold the man’s cock against his stomach as she slowly licked up the veiny underside of his long shaft. Then she shoved him back onto the bed and climbed on top of him. She was completely in charge of this show. She called all the shots. 

Her leg swung over his head and she arched her back as she lowered her dripping cunt onto his face. Her ass was perfect. Porn worthy perfection. She clearly chose the right profession. The noises she made the second his tongue dove deep inside of her were the most erotic thing Sam had ever heard. She bent down to resume her hungry need for his cock. This woman took to sixty-nining like a duck to water. A natural. 

Her hips ground against his face. His mouth was full of her glistening, juicy pussy. She only sucked on his cock for a moment before she let out a whimpered moan. Her back arched as she rolled her hips faster against his mouth. 

“Oh, I’m close,” she gasped. “I’m…oh…I’m…cumming!” 

It was like he was watching a Goddess of sexuality emerge and blossom before his very eyes. Her orgasm was true magic. Naked and spread open on top of the toned man’s face, her body spasmed. Her wet, syrupy pussy crushing his head into the pillows. She tried to hold in her squeal of pleasure at first but nothing she could do could ever stop it from bursting from her lungs. Her entire body moved with rhythmic energy. Her eyes squeezed close almost as if she was in pain but the euphoric expression that softened her features proved the opposite. 

Sam thought that would be the thing to push him over the edge. His balls felt tight and ached for a release. He could have finished then and quickly scurried off like the rat that he was but he held strong. The moment her orgasm subsided, she dived straight back to the man’s cock like she was positively ravenous for it. He never stopped licking at her pussy despite her orgasm, clearly helping to fuel her sudden greedy obsession with stuffing her mouth. She took him so deep down her throat. He was a large man and she swallowed him straight to the base, even giving off perfect gagging sounds as she did. She was a master of her craft and Sam was in love. 

She gasped for breath as she pulled up from the depths back to the surface. A thick string of saliva connected her lips to his meaty head. His entire shaft was coated in her glistening spit. Her hands took up the stroking motion the second her mouth left so he was never unattended. She knew how to take her man. If that was Sam, he wouldn’t have been able to hold back. He would have shot his load down the back of her throat without a second thought but this man was more controlled than he could ever be. She took him back into her mouth after catching her breath, deep throating his entire cock. A flash of her eyes towards the window caught him off guard. 

Sam froze. 

She was looking straight at him. Not at the camera. At him. 

He was caught. A deer in the headlights. He hadn’t even realized he was no longer hidden behind the safety of the tree. At some point, he had stepped out to get a better view. Now he was in full view of her window, his cock in hand and wrapped around a pair of her stolen underwear, as he was clearly furiously jerking off to her spectacle. 

She paused for just a moment. Not enough to be noticed by her partner but to be noticed by Sam. With her mouth still stuffed, her lips curled into a smile. She held perfect eye contact with him as she bobbed her head back down on the man’s cock. Her hips grind harder against his face and another, smaller orgasm bursts through her body. She shivered, convulsing slightly, but not breaking eye contact. She knew he was watching and it only turned on her. It was Sam’s presence that caused her second orgasm. 

He wasn’t just in love. He wanted to worship her like the Goddess she was. He would follow to the ends of the earth. He would lay down his life at her feet. He would be her slave for the rest of time if she’d allow it. 

Her head plunged down again, the connection between them breaking. She was a wild cock sucker. The man under her could hardly keep up. His cheeks glowed from her gushing cunt coating his skin. She rode his face like she was nearing death and it was the only thing keeping her alive. She was aiming for orgasm number three. Sam could sense it. He only had her in his life for less than an hour and he was already learning her signs. Her animalistic sounds of pleasure filled his ears. He didn’t even care to hide it anymore. He was openly watching her now. In all his years of being a porn connoisseur, he had never witnessed anyone quite like her. 

Her sneaky eyes were on him again. She was watching his hand, watching her underwear be used as a synthetic pussy, watching how he pleasured himself for her. It was as if she was urging him to cum with her. The three of them together. Her lips popped off her partner’s member as her body began the third spasm of the night. Her eyes stayed on Sam as she came. Her mouth hung open. 

“Cum for me,” she whispered. 

The man thought she was talking to him but Sam knew the truth as he read her lips. She was ordering him to cum. As her partner’s cock burst to life, spurting thick, gushing rockets up onto her chest, she broke her eye contact to quickly lean down to capture it in her willing mouth. His swollen cockhead snuggled between her lips as she drank his essence. At that moment, Sam pictured her mouth around him instead. He could practically feel her warm, wet tongue swirling around him. 

And he came for her. 

Breathy gasps and strained moans, he emptied himself into her stolen underwear, milking himself for every drop he had to give her. His semen was all for her. Her prize for being so good to him. He closed his eyes and imagined shooting it onto her face. He watched it drip slowly down her cheeks, her tongue darting out to lick up whatever morels she could reach, and he would lean down to crash his lips onto hers. He would hold her tightly in his arms and kiss her with the kind of passion he hadn’t shown to any woman since his ex left him for another man. He didn’t even know her name but he knew he would have her. She would be his. 

Sam’s eyes blinked open. The bright, sunny afternoon felt a little more colorful than it had earlier. He held up her soiled underwear for her to see before slipping it back into his pocket. That belonged to him now. It was no longer hers. 

He zipped his softening cock back into his jeans and turned to leave without giving her a second look. He could feel her eyes following him until he left the sight of her window. A smile danced on his face. 

She would be the one to find him. He showed her his hand of cards and now it was her turn to play. She could choose to take him if she wanted. He was hers for the taking.

She knew exactly where he lived. 

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I have zero idea what kind of audience Sam will bring, if he’d bring in any at all, but this was fun regardless. I love that stinky freak. 

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