#when i replay liberation expect more of that

[docdalas]

love him or else

#assassinscreed #assassinscreed3 #ac3 #ratonhnhaké:ton #connorkenway #connor kenway #assassinscreededit #connorkenwayedit #this looks a little crappy oh well #i can't believe it's been 10 years since this game came out #PLEASE FOLLOW MY AC3 CENTRIC TIKTOK PLEASE I AM BACK ON MY BULLSHIT AND NEED TO BE SURROUNDED BY MY CONNOR SISTERHOOD AGAIN #i made my gf play it and it ruined me it fuckign ruined me #mine #when i replay liberation expect more of that #it's mostly memes tho #steel.lobster

[theambitiouswoman]

Hi! I'm not sure if you've done one before, and if you have, feel free to ignore this, I'll find the post, but do you have any tips on how to start your self love journey? I've been struggling from the beginning of the way and I've made some progress but I feel like it's not enough. And I'm not sure exactly where to go. I read so many posts on self care and self love but I don't know which to start with cause they all seem like something people who've been on that journey for a long time are doing. I guess I'm saying I'm lost and not sure where to start or continue 😅

How To Start Your Self Love Journey 🥰❤️‍🩹

1. Accept yourself and realize that you are worthy of self love: When you learn to love yourself, you won't feel scared of what others think about you, and you'll be able to embrace who you are. Figure out what you like and what you dislike. Create boundaries and learn your love language. This part of the self love journey is crucial. I recommend that everyone takes the time to figure out who they are and learn how to accept themselves.

2. Affirmations: Start using positive statements can help your brain think in a happier way. Even if you don't believe them at first, saying them repeatedly can make you start believing. Choose some positive statements and say them often. Write them on sticky notes and put them around your home.

3. Do Things You Love: No matter how busy you are, set aside time for activities you enjoy. Whether it's a short trip or reading a favorite author's book, prioritize things that make you happy.

The idea is to take charge and actively shape a life that brings you happiness, rather than settling for one that doesn't. Treat yourself kindly and give yourself the wonderful gift of a life filled with happiness.

4. Take Care of Your Body: A good 30 minutes of exercising can change your whole day and mood. Aside from exercising, you should change your diet to healthier options. The foods you eat affect your mood and energy. Don't forget to rest too.

5. Quit The Negative Self Talk: Self-talk is basically how we talk to ourselves. We tend to be really hard on ourselves. I wrote a post about it recently here. I suggest trying to find proof for your thoughts and questioning them. In short, focus on how you speak to yourself. Many of our thoughts are extreme or very black and white. Most of these thoughts aren't even original, our minds pick up so much throughout the day. Almost always, people project their own insecurities, values, fears, and opinions onto us. Treat yourself kindly.

6. Don’t Compare Yourself to Others: Comparison is the fastest way to bring yourself down. It doesn’t matter what other people are doing or how far they’ve come. Everyone works at his own pace. Everyone is unique, and no uniqueness is better than the other.

7. Don't Care What Others Think: This isn't just about rejecting criticism; it's also about not becoming too focused on compliments. Your value isn't determined by others' opinions. Don't rely on external sources to validate yourself. Your worth comes from within.

8. Forgive And Let Go: With emotional pain, we often extend our suffering by clutching onto negative emotions like guilt, shame, and resentment, sometimes indefinitely. Rather than releasing these emotions, we cling to them, replaying hurtful moments repeatedly, hoping the person who hurt us will feel the same pain. Yet, harboring resentment is akin to consuming poison and expecting our enemy to suffer. Clinging to bitterness doesn't alter anything; it merely confines us to our pain.

Forgiveness liberates us—it's about us, not the person we're forgiving. Prioritizing our well-being over being right, it takes responsibility for our happiness instead of placing it in someone else's hands. Happiness trumps being right. Freedom often hinges on picking happiness over being right. When someone makes a mistake, it can be more satisfying to let them believe they're right and move on, rather than stewing over it. Reflect on someone who irked you three years ago. Can you even recall them now? If so, does it still provoke irritation? If not, why invest energy in something you'll forget in a year or two? Once you genuinely forgive, release it entirely. Forgiveness involves moving beyond resentment, focusing on positive actions and intentions instead.

9. Start a Gratitude Journal: A grateful heart is a magnet for miracles. You attract more good things in your life by being grateful for what you already have. Understanding what gratitude is can help you on your self love journey because of how you appreciate what you already have. Especially when we are in a place where we are only focused on the negative things in our life.

10. Practice Small Acts of Kindness For Yourself: Treat yourself to outings and buy things that make you happy. Set aside money for little things you enjoy. Remember, even the small gestures towards ourselves matter.

I suggest forming the habit of creating habits that lead you toward your desired life. A book I recommend is "Atomic Habits" by James Clear. It shows how habits can be positive or negative, and how doing something small daily can lead to significant outcomes.

11. Surround Yourself With Positivity: Watch motivational videos, and follow accounts promoting self-love and body positivity on social media, and unfollow those who make you feel bad. In real life too. Keep a Pinterest board with uplifting quotes. Use positivity to counter negativity. Aim to be realistic with your thoughts instead of assuming the worst. Focus on positive outcomes, and if that's hard, start with neutral thoughts.

Don't go to extremes with forced positivity. Aim for practical positivity. For instance, you might not be the absolute best, but you're a hard worker and your best is valuable. You might not excel at something today, but you can improve over time through effort.

12. Do A Lot of Self Reflecting: Write in your journal. Spend time alone. This is how you really understand yourself. Challenge your insecurities and the things you imagine about others. Figure out if you're accepting less than you deserve or if you're moving towards improvement.

13. Get To Know Yourself: The journey to personal growth begins with recognizing and embracing your true self before you start building and improving.

You can learn more about yourself by pondering these questions:

Am I Content with My Current Activities?

What Do I Want to Do?

Can I Turn My Passion into Reality?

By understanding yourself, including your values, priorities, motivations, sources of satisfaction, and abilities, you can discover your true desires and drive personal growth.

14. Realize That Going on A Self Love Journey Is Not Easy: Embarking on a journey of self-love involves a lot of heartache and healing. You might come across various self-love activities and advice, but the key is understanding that it requires dedication and effort. It's not a simple task. There will be moments when you feel like you've wasted a lot of time, prompting you to reevaluate your approach. There will be times when you believe you're making progress, only to realize there's more to work on. It's essential to recognize that you're taking significant steps to unlearn old habits and make changes.

My suggestion is to genuinely take a moment to understand that self-love is a commitment. It's like building a muscle that needs regular exercise. Think of it as tending to a plant that requires consistent care. Recognize that self-love isn't always about positivity; there are challenges to overcome as well. It's a realistic journey that involves ups and downs, rather than just an easy path of happiness.

15. Discover Your Purpose: Discovering your purpose can bring more happiness and fulfillment to your life. Each of us possesses unique talents and gifts to contribute to the world. When you share what you're meant to give, you align with your best self. Follow what feels right to you. You don't have to have it all figured out.

16. Take Action: Instead of getting stuck in overthinking and planning every detail perfectly, take action. Even if you're unsure, take that first step. You don't need a complete roadmap; just follow the path that feels right and see where it leads you. Your initial step might not instantly lead you to your dream scenario, but it could serve as a foundation. Regardless of where you find yourself, value your current position. Understand that every action you take along your journey contributes to your ultimate destination.

17. Don't Start Everything Anew: You don't have to build your ideal life completely from scratch. Observe what others are doing that deeply resonates with you and brings you a sense of vitality. Is it their well-structured routine, their freedom from routines, or perhaps their ability to travel extensively? The more precisely you identify the elements that ignite your passion, the easier it becomes to visualize and shape your own desired life.

18. Act As If: Embrace the "fake it till you make it" approach. Hold the belief that whatever you desire is attainable, even if there's no current proof of its possibility. Behave as though it's already unfolding and remain receptive to opportunities that guide you toward your objective.

19. Surround Yourself with Like-Minded People: You tend to adopt the mindset of those you spend the most time with. Avoid people who bring negativity, and instead, connect with individuals who view the world as abundant. Invest more time with those whose thinking you aspire to emulate. If you're lacking inspiring connections, seek out new friendships.

20. Give: Giving is one of our greatest joys. When we have faith in the abundant nature of our universe and freely offer, we elevate our energy and create an opportunity to receive abundance in return. When we withhold because of distrust in abundance, we inadvertently attract the very scarcity we wish to avoid. The universe operates on a balance of action and reaction, like inhaling and exhaling, giving and receiving. Hence, the more you give, the more you open yourself to receiving, and vice versa.

21. Gratitude In Real Life: Gratitude goes beyond mere politeness of saying "thank you" when given something. True gratitude involves being aware of and profoundly valuing the numerous blessings in your life. Since gratitude generates positive emotions, it elevates your energy to a high frequency, attracting more positive feeling

22. Change Your Story: The stories we tell ourselves shape our lives greatly. Often, we hold onto untrue beliefs like "I lack money" or "I'm not capable," which blinds us to the many possibilities and chances around us. To reshape your life, begin by realizing that you are the author of your life. When you decide to draft a better script, your life becomes more meaningful. To let go of old narratives, first, be aware of them. If there's something you want to do but haven't, ask why. What's stopping you? Every story you tell serves a purpose, whether it's healthy or not. For instance, if you believe you're depressed, you might avoid exerting yourself and receive attention. We often prioritize the benefits of our stories over our actual desires. Comfort becomes more important than seizing control of our lives.

Once you identify old stories and their hidden gains, compose fresh, empowering narratives. To make these new stories your reality, focus on them. Embrace the happiness and excitement they bring. Use them as affirmations, repeating them until they replace the old tales entirely.

Self love can lead to you to big personal transformations.

You'll treat yourself with greater compassion and understanding. Your self-support and ability to forgive will bring a sense of calmness. Embracing self love enables you to truly live and embrace each moment. Through it, you'll have more love to give to others, improving your relationships. You become the architect of your own happiness.

<3

#self love journey #self love #self development #self improvement #self care #self worth #self help #self esteem #love yourself first #personal improvement #personal development

[ithinkthiswasabadidea]

WOW

What a game, holy shit 😭❤️

After all that, I was still so convinced there was going to be a way to save Constantin at the end.... he didn't deserve going through all of that. I truly don't believe that Constantin began the story with malice in his heart, or the goal to become the kind of ruler that he ended up being

Poisoned with the disease he escaped from by the people he was told to trust, a coup against him arranged and carried out, again, by people he thought he could trust, and his corruption stemmed from someone just wanting to help him be healed

And finally, De Sardet, the one last person who was meant to be there for him and help him when all other hope was lost..... was the one to end him 💔

Ugh. What a gorgeous story, I'm so so happy I got the 'best' ending possible 🥺 and I'm going to be replaying that last goodbye scene with Vasco for the next 3-5 business days, it made me so emotional 😭

De Sardet was a wonderfully done protagonist, the way he interacted with friends and enemies alike, almost always keeping a level head, with the goal to do whatever he could to foster good relations and repair damages as they were caused. I LOVED his personal journey, finding out about his own heritage and more about his people

Vasco obviously was a fast favourite companion and Kurt and Siora were also both done equally well. I feel like I enjoyed Kurt's personal missions best, honestly, they felt extremely important. Aphra and Petrus were underutilised, in my opinion, as it was clear that their differing opinions and methods were more at odds with De Sardet than the other companions

I also felt that certain side quests would have been more impactful as main missions, especially if they were also mandatory to explore in more depth. My own need to do everything I possibly can in a game, meant I didn't even think twice about doing all of the side quests, not even considering leaving them behind in gameplay

Otherwise, playing on easy mode made my experience much more enjoyable as I didn't have to worry about dying or consequences as much. While it was a bit of a speed bump to get used to controls and movement, I only initially found them a tad janky compared to larger studio games. The map system was a tiiiiny bit annoying, but nothing I didn't just get over

I chose a magic build to begin with, later utilising melee and firearms a bit more liberally. I definitely dont think I was very efficient in how I played, but the main thing was that I really enjoyed it and had fun. The combat felt really nicely done, and the Nádaig boss fights were a really awesome and impactful spectacle to engage in every now and then when the story called for it

I went into GreedFall with minimal expectations, not knowing a single thing about the story, and came out of it with so much love. I'm so fucking glad I gave this game a chance ❤️❤️❤️

#GreedFall #greedfall blogging #de sardet #captain vasco #constantin d'orsay #captain kurt #siora #petrus #aphra #i have a subjective rating system for video games i play and this game gets a solid 8.5/10 from me ❤️

[rainbowvamp]

an unsent letter: August, 2022

Do you affect everyone like this, or is it just me? Was I doomed to always be wanting you from the moment we met, or is this a torture of my own devising?

How can you smile at me like that? Touch my hand. Call me your friend. It’s like you’re giving me everything I have ever wanted and I don’t know how to accept it. 

It feels unreal. It feels like a dream. You’re a dream. 

You still haven’t told me your name. I asked and you smiled at me like I’d just done something to amuse you, and then you laughed and asked me what I thought. Answering questions with questions. That’s the sort of thing a devil does, but you’ve already told me you aren’t a devil. What are you? I asked if you were a God and you said that was too lowly to describe your power. What does that even mean? What powers do you have? Would it have killed you to throw me one single bone? Anything at all?

You know, I haven’t written a letter to you in 33 years. Not since 1989. I’ve thought about it, half composed introductions made a thousand times over in moments of spare time, menial tasks, loneliness. I have thought about what I might say to you, how you might feel to learn about the marvels of modern computers, smart houses, queer liberation (do you care about queer liberation? I hope you do.).

I have thought about sharing my world with you time and again, and stopped before pen met paper, stopped before fingers met keyboard, because why should I write a letter you may never see? True, you never see any of my letters, and they’re more for me than they are for you, but there is something about writing you a letter that you’d never see because I’d never see you again that felt too… everything. Too sad. Too final. Too pathetic. 

I was prepared to wait, and I’m glad I did, but there was always the part of me that taunted and teased and told me that you weren’t coming back. I’d outlived my usefulness to you and I was meant to face the rest of eternity alone but for the passing faces of the mortal people I fill my life with.

I love those mortal people, but it was nice to have one person I couldn’t lose.

It is nice. I’m being maudlin. You’re back. I’ve missed you. Even if it’s another hundred years before I see you (I hope it isn’t. Please don’t let it be 100 years) I’m glad you’re back. I don’t know if I believe in God the way he was 1389 or how he is conceived of in 2022. I don’t know what I believe in. But I believe that it is whatever passes for a blessing these days to have just your smile aimed at me. To hear from your own lips the proclamation of our friendship. I feel alight with it. Aflame like the most holy fire warms my chest and mends me, makes me whole again after years of fracturing and chipping and trying to hold the bits of me together.

I could’ve faced eternity alone. But I’ve never wanted to. There was always a part of me that agreed to your deal on the off chance that I’d get to see you again.

I know that originally, you sought my downfall. I could see in your eyes that smugness that spoke of men born high who think themselves better, more knowledgable, than the lowly peasant they are speaking to. 

I wasn’t that far off, then, was I? 

Who are you? Do you know I can still feel your hand on my shoulder, where you touched me and wished me goodnight, hands like stone in temperature, and even in strength, but still with some gentleness that must be learned. I didn’t expect your hand to be so heavy, when you laid it on my shoulder, squeezed it to tell me I would sleep well. I didn’t expect to still feel the contact hours, days, later. The print of your hand has seared itself into my flesh and I am grateful for it. Every time I feel it, I think of you, I’m reminded of you. I remember your smile and your voice and that  laugh when I asked for your name. 

I dreamed of you last night. Felt that touch again. Just the same. The replaying of that moment again and again, same words, same touch, same friend. 

I wish, sometimes, that I had thought to ask for more. A handshake, a hug, a soft touch of lips to cheek or hand like we’re back in the Victorian times. Would you have let me, if I’d asked? I don’t think I’ll ever know, but I can’t help but wonder about it. I’ll always wonder about it. 

As ever, you consume my thoughts, and I wanted only to ask you a question. Maybe I’ll save this one, give it to you in 100 years. 

Thank you for coming to see me, friend.

---

AO3

#dreamling #this is consuming me #I woke up with this idea and it refused to be stopped. #hob x dream #dream x hob #lore's dreamling letters

[hopeshoodie]

Who is the Most Problematic (TM) S2 Islander?

So I know this is literally the most absurd thing to do but I’ve decided to do it anyways.

One of the things I like most about LITG S2 is how it’s just a bunch of flawed people making mistakes and trying to get along- and that results in them doing really shitty things to each other. I’ve provided cursory lists of things people have done wrong, mostly to try and point out flaws in characters that people insist are perfect, but then it wormed into my decaying brain that I don’t know, quantifiably, which character is THE most toxic. Like I know who I like best and think did the least wrong, but I don’t know who consistently did bad things across the whole season the most. And not knowing bothers me. 

So. I decided to make a spreadsheet of all the ‘bad’ things every character did across the entirety of Season 2 to quantifiably prove who is the most problematic. I made both an excel spreadsheet and a google docs table because there is something deeply wrong with me. But here’s the google doc if you want to see all the events I counted.

Warning, it is 28 pages long  

To keep the data fair, I created a rubric and played through the most neutral route I can think of: a loyal Bobby route. 

For the rubric, my criteria was

Number of incidents (each bad thing done was worth 1 point) 

The severity of the action (on a scale of 1 point to 5 points, 1 being a little rude to 5 being cruel). This column is admittedly the most subjective, it’s based on my perception of how ‘big of a deal’ each thing is. But I felt like I needed an element to differentiate between Gary being weird and Blake outright bullying MC. Looking back across my data, this column should have been used more liberally to differentiate. I don’t think I gave any one incident higher than a 3, which I probably should have. But alas, it’s way too much to go back and correct. 

Number of people directly impacted by the action (.5 of a point for each person). I’m not counting ‘everyone was annoyed that Priya and Lottie are yelling at each other’, only people directly involved, thus making it worse because you’re directly hurting more people

The duty/obligation the offending character to the people impacted (1 little to no obligation to 5 an explicit obligation- they’re official in their relationship or have set clear boundaries) this is the most important element of any conflict, imo, because it’s the expectations that have been broken. If your S3 LI makes you a bologna sandwich and it’s the first time they’re cooking for you, versus if you’ve been dating for over a year and they know you’re a vegetarian, the action is the same but one is clearly much worse. A lot of the legal cases my firm has tried hinge on the ability to prove that there was a duty owed- because we can all agree ‘x’ was a shitty thing to do, but if the person didn’t know it was shitty or had no reason NOT to be shitty, they’re not liable in the court’s eye. Again, I should have been more liberal with high numbers in this column, but I wasn’t. 

As for the route I played through, I didn’t think it would be fair to be mean to characters then hold their reactions as proof of their character. I would generally hope that we are more than our reactions to those who antagonize us. It also doesn’t seem fair to break up with the LIs then hold that against them- and I cannot possibly play every single route and count every comment they make at MC against them. It’d be more data to play every single route with this in mind, because some LIs like Marisol and Gary are shitty to MC only when she’s on their route, but I just can’t possibly replay that much. So I THINK the most neutral route to play is a loyal Bobby route, because most of the nonsense Bobby does is irrelevant to if you’re romancing him. I’ve also been as nice as humanly possible to everyone and stayed out of/didn’t fix conflicts. Ideally, I would play another game and do the exact same thing, but be mean to literally everyone/break up with everyone to see them at their worst (so we have the two ends of the spectrum). But I can barely get through one replay…. So…….

With that being said and the shared google doc being my data collected, here are my conclusions. The most problematic islanders are:

Total Points (most problematic):

Lottie- 339 points

Hope- 297.5 points

Noah - 178 points

Gary- 151.50 points

Priya -142 points

Marisol- 137.5 points

Chelsea - 108.5 points

Bobby- 97.5 points

Graham - 88 points

Lucas - 56 points

And the people who had the highest impact per incident (the average of their points and the amount of incidences is highest). I wanted to quantify that because obviously we can’t account for what would have happened if Jakub, Rocco, Shannon, Jo, or Blake were in the season for longer and there’s no way they could amass points in the same way someone who was there all season could. So those people are:

Rocco - 6.25 points per incident

Jakub- 6.14 ppi

Noah- 6.14 ppi

Henrik - 5.69 (NOTE: every incident Henrik gets points for Lucas also gets points for, but Lucas also has additional unique incidences that are less bad and thus bring down his average. So Henrik is really here because he’s too nice, aside for the very few times that he’s incredibly inconsiderate)

Blake - 5.5 ppi

Felix - 5.5 ppi (same deal as Henrik, he’s just in very few conflicts aside from when he’s treating MC badly, which all the other CA boys do, he just has nothing outside of those to bring down his average)

Priya - 5.26 ppi

Elijah - 5.25 ppi (same as Henrik and Felix)

Hope - 5.22 ppi

Rahim - 5.22 ppi

And then here are some random observations I made whilst finishing this project

Bobby gets offensive/unkind to others only when Henrik and Lucas enter- is he feeling threatened and doesn’t normally act like that?

Lottie was supposed to ‘grow’ throughout the season, but really her data reflects that she was simply getting into less disagreements, not necessarily that the comments/actions she was doing in late game were less cruel than when she started.

Conversely, Marisol ABSOLUTELY got meaner throughout the season. She started very much minding her own, but at the end she’s trying to make people jealous and making shady comments to others and generally being a lot more unkind to those around her (Rahim also has this to an extent). Maybe she’s just burnt out from filming or in letting her guard down her actions become more hurtful.

The women have a LOT more incidences than the men. Chalk that up to MC spending more time with them, maybe, because they certainly spend a lot more time on screen than the men do and take an active role in most conflicts. 

#litg #now i can rest eternally #this was such a huge undertaking #the worst part was the loyal bobby route ngl #final queue

[minjungfmd]

famed verification — don’t

summary — a toss in of a random song she said she’d take part in. doesn’t expect it turn into hours of replaying old memories. warnings — none wc — 638 (not including lyrics)

recordings take a break, she just loses herself in the process. loses any semblance of creative liberation, along with any melody that comes from her two hands. three hours into staring at the screen, and she’s left still with a tabula rosa canvas — the only direction: try again.

right timings occur when the rap on the door pries herself away from the minutes of self-agonizing frustration, her eyes peek past to the visitor. 

an old friend, she welcomes with open arms. motions to the empty sofa lying in the studio (as if it’s her own, this is no home. this is a makeshift prison).

“what brings you to my side of town?”

“a proposition — a song, your song actually. with the catalyst member.”

“so, i’ve heard.”

meeting rooms, and exploitation of a fundamental friendship as a storyline for cheap tv. it sells, makes her into another product, tacking on another reminder of things to do when her response is low, and she’s thwarted hours in creating anything of substance. 

yet, one toss of a usb, and one wry smile yanked from a producer friend. she knows, it’s a proposition for another game. 

“instructions and rough base of the song is there. make use of time, and maybe — i’ll stop by with a coffee when you’re not forced to be here.”

-

read.txt

song about dwindling lovers, alcohol — courage? or the start to the downfall? rap written as a base to frame, see what you make do with it. if not, guess i’ll have to write the rest. but i’m lazy, so good luck seo minjung 

ps: know i’ll charge a dior fee if i have to write the rest

-

lovers and alcohol, two things she fails at. a dwindling time bomb for when the alcohol laces her veins, and suddenly she wears a false sense of confidence, inside a chasm where the past mistakes become re-written with the truth that speaks tonight.

alcohol’s a dangerous weapon, handled with care. (she’s careless, always has been when falling into temptation leads to the five seconds of euphoria). it’s not her fault, no. she refuses (knows it’s her fault anyway) when memories always begin with the echoes of footsteps coming closer to her one by one, her heart loosely caught in the palm of her hand. hands raised, she falls with the devilish touch of alcohol.

it’s dangerous, a close call holding on by a thread

i can only see it as temptation

don’t come to me, don’t

because it always starts at the same story. her muse, a solo silhouette of the skeleton that doesn’t give despite how many times she’s locked it deep in her head. her head says don’t, her heart says, yes. and you know the dangerous aftermath of what comes with the asynchrony of the heart and head. the heart wins out. doesn’t matter how many times the words she utters fall into a don’t, her eyes speak differently.

don’t cross the line, please don’t give me the alcohol, don’t i might try to make it work with you if drunk

 the aftermath already follows suit before it all starts. the cataclysmic mash-up of too many drinks and the courage that doesn’t fade despite how many more drinks she tries to upkeep the false sense of security in the moment. faux bravado — it’s a dangerous thing. wrapping her up underneath its finger when her head tells her once more, it’s only temporary as with most things. her heart says something else: regrets or not, she’s already decided.

alcohol no longer feels good. impulse no longer feels smart.

creative liberation or not, she’s still stuck writing the same lines over and over for someone who’s only an illusion of the past.

she types up the note document into one. hours staged in flashbacks she ought to forget — never forget, it always resurfaces in the studio. types it into a document, attaches the vocal guide before packing it all into an email to press send.

figures, it’s a day that’s already bled into the next.

#famedverification #큐뀨 / queue

[vahlvari]

[ ... ] ─── i got this CHIP ON MY SHOULDER - so i press the issues on sight. i 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬 on a high wire , trapped in memories stuck on replay.

#VAHLVARI. ──────── a writing blog for an ORIGINAL CHARACTER based in fantasy ( urban , modern/paranormal , high ). with verses in elder scrolls , baldurs gate , and more. because of this ... crossovers are preferred & no knowledge of elder scrolls is needed to interact ... blog established october 2023 , character est in 2018 , loved by ouija , 21+ , she/her , rules below the cut

affiliated with @recitedemise

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⸻⸻

( ₁. )  character notes .   ( ₂. )   pre-est connections .   ( ₃. )   spotify .   ( ₄. )   aesthetics .   ( ₅. )   pintrest .   ( ₆. )   carrd .

001. general  ⸻ this blog is a writing blog for my oc VALVARI ALANTAR who i've built over the past five years. she started as a skyrim oc intrinsically tied to the legacy of the dragonborn mod, morphed into an oc for a current dnd campaign (and more to come). i use caps from baldurs gate just because of it's character creation.

SPARK NOTES :: valvari's adoptive fathers own museums across the world. she's grown up first learning deep history, and being more book focused, but as she began showing a bit of a temper and anger streak, she was sent with one of her father's to start adventuring to begin finding artifacts and curios that are gathered to store in the museums. just recently, they've opened a new museum and val is going to start adventuring on her own in order to help fill it.

002. following ⸻  this is a highly selective blog , i am keeping my circle very small right now and will only interact with those who make concerted efforts to plot with me. i practice mains, i'm not interested in exclusives. i do not follow writers under the age of 21. if you're ever softblocked and you still want to interact, please feel free to follow again, it's never that serious i promise.

i softblock liberally if we have not interacted, i'm not interested in being a number to people. i don't expect to be responding to our threads every day, i don't expect constant ooc talk, we all have lives and other muse interests. what i expect is interaction with other posts that show you're interested in my muse. a like or a reply to a post goes a long way. when time goes on and you're radio silent but still active on dash, i'll likely just softblock just so i'm not feeling unwanted. i promise it's not a big deal, it's just about curating my dash to active mutuals.

003. formatting  ⸻ i don’t care about formatting or icon usage on your end , you do what makes you most comfortable. i personally use normal text with some formatting, and icons only show up in writing if i feel like it. i'll use them if i'm feeling it, otherwise there may be threads or posts where they're absent because i couldn't be bothered to add them. if there's something about my formatting that doesn't work for you let me know and i can adjust.

004. shipping ⸻  i love shipping and am always open to discussing it. val requires chemistry to ship with and i require being comfortable together ooc. it's not going to be a focus on this blog and i'll never be the first to ask in order to keep people from feeling uncomfortable. if you are interested, let me know, i won't consider it forceshipping, but be aware i may say no.

please note :: val is sex positive and a bit blunt, so she may flirt if she thinks your muse is attractive but i'm ALWAYS okay with her being shut down. i promise it's never that serious, and i'm not trying to beg for a ship. she will also drop the topic the moment someone isn't interested.

005. plotting ⸻  i rely heavily on plotting and interacting ooc and my attention will be focused around those of my followers who i have a plot for and rapport with. it isn’t necessary to have one off the bat , but if interactions are going to go anywhere , plotting is required. i typically prioritize these threads/muses and if we go a period of time without interacting or you showing interest in my muse/blog at all, i'll softblock so i can keep my dash to the people i'm actively writing/chatting with.

006. interacting ⸻ i will like starter call , but do not wait to see one on my blog because it won’t happen often. instead , please send memes. they can always become threads. and they are great ways to explore our muses while we aren't working on our active threads. send them and send them often, i'm never agitated if you're sending multiple. i'll delete any i don't have muse for but i'll always answer some.

007. triggers ⸻ there will be adult content present on this blog including , but not limited to :: sexual content , potential mention of self harm , violence , adult language. if you are uncomfortable with any of these please tell me and i will avoid them in our threads. i don't have any specific triggers, however i will always tag potentially triggering things as : trigger tw

008. ooc ⸻ hey i’m ouija , 30+ i’m just a nerd. I have a full time job and a home to maintain so my activity will vary. icon border by ariapsds and icon psd by jaynedits

i've grown comfortable existing on the edges of fandoms and just fitting val within them, thus i'm very crossover friendly. rape, incest, pedophilia, hate / bigotry (ie: racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, etc) is not accepted on this blog. i may keep myself distant from callouts or personal drama that appears (mainly just because i don't like calling attention to myself), however i'm not against them when it comes to keeping the dash safe and letting people know about problematic people.

#pinned.

[foxstens]

tried playing liberation

it was weird. i could definitely see myself playing this game like it doesnt feel as off as the others and it’s a city setting which seems to be a really important factor for me in these games

but the new engine is very noticeable like aveline moves and climbs faster and she’s more responsive to the controls which should be a good thing but it’s not because it means she’s more likely to do things i don’t want her to do

there’s this system called the persona system where you can dress up as an assassin a slave or a lady and they all fit different situations and have different notoriety systems and stuff, conceptually it’s really cool and it reminds me of the disguise missions but the entire game

but i feel like the game isn’t particularly clear on what the heck is going on. like i was on the first mission dressed as a lady looking for some stolen goods or whatever and i got attacked by four random dudes for no reason. they didn’t show on the minimap at all and they didn’t have detection meters so i guess they weren’t guards but idk what they actually were. like they attacked me while i was sitting on a bench? also i got desynchronized while tailing a guy because i didnt realize i was right in his face until it was too late and somehow he still saw me when i turned a corner and should’ve been out of sight?? idk it was wack

idk i just feel like the game doesn’t explain things very well despite having a checkpoint every two steps to get you to your first viewpoints, and also the combat is abysmal. i cannot see shit, there’s barely any indication when you get hit or when you hit an enemy, and you gotta fight like 7 guys when you’re dressed as a lady and thus have limited combat abilities?? wat.

also in the same mission you have to enter the mansion undetected but it’s not even hard bc you just gotta bribe the first group of guards then literally walk past three other guards while they’re doing their walk cycle because it takes them a thousand years to notice you. like im a huge fan of the suspicion and detection system but this isn’t really great design tbh. 

aveline’s exertion sounds are also a bit weird while climbing like there’s nothing wrong with the sounds themselves but they just come too often, like why sigh when you just took a tiny step over a ledge even 52 year old ezio didn’t sigh at that much lmfao

the cutscenes also look weird like you’d expect them to look waaaay better than the previous games but no the faces look soulless and like they’re made of rubber wtf. there’s also no cool sound effect when you open a chest. sad :(

so honestly i would play it but i already got too frustrated at the combat and the game not holding my hand when i need it to soooooo yea no. i’d rather replay the ezio trilogy instead eh

#my posts #gameblogging #liveblogging ac #read more #long post #my rambles

[asoulofatlantis]

The fact that Agate knew she was fine and especially since he was aware of the teasing to expect from Fie and Toval, he could have easily dodged seeing Tita, knowing there was no need for concern, given that she was save. Would have likely been possible to just say he had too much to do to visit her, even tho he was around, however, here he is, making sure with his very own eyes that she is alright and feeling happy as a student of the branch campus. You’ve seriously gotta respect that despite his usual defensive reactions to the teasing, that never stops him from actually seeing and interacting with Tita.

The fact that Agate is absolutely “hands off” with Tita, but headpats are a regular thing and that is likely because it makes her so happy. Even Agate can not avoid loving the cuteness of that smile XD

Randy robbing off an Juna who has decided to give cute people cute nicknames and actually gets away with it ^^’

Agate reminding us of that moment of utter panic, when for the very first time, there was a small moment with reasons to actually doubt Prince Oliverts loyalty to our Liberl-Team back in the Sky-Saga. (That was a moment one will not so easily forget. I mean, even I, who knew Olivert from the Cold Steel Saga already and thus was aware of his background und stuff had a small moment off doubt, when he acted like he was a bad buy reading to help Zechs to attack Liber at its weakest moment ^^’)

Agate using excuse number one on old class 7, because they backed him into a corner, asking about his relationship with Tita. Always fun to see him struggle XD (One might say he is far too defensive for his own good. Laura asked if Tita is dear to him and he immediately jumped to the conclusion she suggest he is in love with her, while “dear to him” might very well be easily explain with “Yeah, I love her like a sister”, but he had to go all out and make sure its not anything romantic at all. Tjo one might have to forgive him, given how Erica is treating him because SHE KNOWS that Tita is in love with him ^^’)

The fact that Agate was trying so hard to make sure Class7 knew there is no such thing as the fact that Tita might be “dear to him” and fucked it up anyway XD

I found it so important that the story of Hamel got told to our Heroes from Erebonia and that the game makes sure we understand how cruel and gruesome that attack had been. The sadness of that place for you as a player is always palpable, but even more so if you have finished Trails in the Sky before. So one of the many reason to replay this game is also, to get reminded of how long the curse had been taking peoples darkness and weakness and used them to do terrible thing to innocent people and thus how important it was that we would finally end this spiral of death, hate and destruction at the end of the cold steel saga. Not just for Erebonia, or the neighboring countries who were in danger because of this. But also because of all the people in Hamel who died a cruel death. And for Loewe, who now watches over them.

Seeing how both Duvalie AND Shirley pay their respect to the dead of Hamel. It gives them a heart and a soul and brings them a sort of respect and sympathy from us as the player.

The game confirming what we already knew since the Crossbell-Saga: Shirleys father has spoiled her rotten and that doesn’t make dealing with her any easier.

The fact that we get a chance to agree with this XD

I am fully aware that I sound like Musse when I say this... but Rean IS hot when he is strict like that XD Totally worth playing this game again for swooning over his angry voice *lol*

#Reasons to play CS3

[saiqherrr]

.could not be tainted (s. getou)

.pairing suguru getou x fem!reader

.content warning gojo’s past arc / jjk vol. 0 manga spoilers, angst, manipulation, mind-break, nsfw, non-con, dub-con, mentions of suicide, mentions of murder, mentions of death, rough sex, choking, break-up, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!receiving), pregnancy

.synopsis "at this moment you accepted that he had done something terrible and his soul had become wretched, but again, cursed yourself for still loving him. your love for him was unconstrained. shamefully, your perception of his disposition could not be tainted. this would remain your first and only love. he was your everything, your entire world."

.a/n i just want to make it very clear that i do not want this fic to be romanticized in any way at all. some aspects of this are written from experiences and about guys i’ve dealt with in my life. (85% is just me writing angst just to cope about suguru lol). this is not the life you want to live or fantasize about. these are very real feelings i want to express and this is the best way i could do it. thank you for understanding.

.wc 4.k

WHY DID IT HAPPEN? why? why? why? when? how? you couldn’t grasp it. you were panicking, you were still in shock. you still couldn’t bring yourself to believe it. even if it were to happen right in front of you, you probably would still deny it. this was a thing that the two of you used to joke about together, yet it seems now that those jokes were simple warnings - no, a divination of the future.

still, you couldn’t fathom that suguru would ever do such a thing. an entire village? you knew you couldn’t deny it when satoru could barely look at you without flinching when his default, pompous grin wasn’t on his face when his voice broke and he looked away so that you couldn’t see him cry. that’s it, you thought to yourself. that’s how fast that lifestyle could break people.

you saw it coming now that you were thinking about it with your face covered in your grasp, sitting on the couch, shuddering with pulverization, outrage, and dread. your hands were damp from the tears that had run along your cheeks. suguru stopped smiling. he was excessively profound into his brain and at whatever point you broke him out of it, he’d bring his absent eyes to you and feign an artificial smile on his face. he stopped eating and the only one who pointed it out was satoru. his face was paler than it already was, he was getting fatigued quicker. he didn’t want to have sex with you, yet, he kept tasting you, feasting on your core some nights, and one night, you swore you heard him whisper “i’m sorry” once, but it slipped your mind seconds later.

why did you ignore it? why didn’t you ask him? why didn’t you talk to satoru? you couldn’t answer your own questions. regardless of his inert, distorted thoughts, he was still showering you with love. he was still tucking you into bed when he came home. he was still kissing you goodbye when he’d leave. he was still saying “i love you”. he was still asking you if you were alright. he was still suguru, the beautiful boy with long black locks that fell into his face whenever he’d laugh too hard. the boy that smiled simply because you were breathing. the boy that’d reach around for you at night, just to make sure you were beside him. the boy that would tell you he loves you each possibility he got simply to ensure that those were his final words in case of anything. your boy, he was your boy. your beautiful boy.

he was your boy yet you couldn’t keep him safe. you couldn’t shield him from the traumatic experiences that he inevitably faced as a sorcerer. you couldn’t reassure him that he was doing the best he could when everyone else expected him to do better. there was nothing you could do to aid him, to guide him, to protect him.

i failed, you thought. i failed to save you, my love.

where do we go from here? you thought. were you supposed to leave? were you supposed to stay with him? join him? end your own life? end his life?

your heart sunk and your body went still as you heard the door handle shaking behind you. you stood up from the love seat and went to approach the front door. the stifled sound of keys outside of the door had your heart dashing almost too fast to measure. finally, the door opened slowly, creaking loudly and he walked in.

“y/n-”

you didn’t know how you managed to move so quickly. suguru couldn’t even process it himself. but you cut him off, wrapping your arms around his body, fastening onto him as if he was trying to run anyway. he didn’t return the embrace, he was breathing quite heavily.

you pull away yet your hand lay on his chest, steadily grasping his shirt in your hands as you looked up at him with glossy eyes. the crying didn’t have to build - you just cried, warm tears liberated from your eyes and rolled down your cheeks.

“suguru, please tell me it’s not true,” you sobbed desperately. you brought a hand up to his cheek, scouring your thumb beneath his eye. “please...”

suguru’s jaw clenched, looking at you with deadpan eyes before he, oddly enough, smiles. it was almost frightening how he beamed at you, yet showed nothing in those dark eyes of his. his calloused hands are placed on your cheeks and he kisses you. it was so soft, yet so intense. he pulls away before you could even situate yourself with the kiss. your crying subsided.

as though the kiss didn't occur, he leaves and goes to the room that you two shared. you followed behind him.

“suguru...”

he didn’t respond to you. he looked into the mirror and rubbed his eyes. he was evidently tired. “suguru,” you called out to him again as you leaned against the door frame. he continued to ignore you and proceeded to remove his clothes from his body in an unusually slow manner.

“it’s true,” he finally speaks as he gets to the last button on his shirt and pulls it off of his arms.

your eyebrows curve upwards and your lips tremble once again and the tears started to stream. “t-then why did you come home...?”

suguru turned around to look at you. “just because i’ve lost my mind, does not mean i do not love you.” he walks closer to you and tilts your head up by pushing his fingers underneath your chin. “you understand that, right?”

“what does that mean?” you asked him in a small voice. he didn’t answer quick enough for you. “what does that mean, suguru?”

rather than giving you a verbal reaction, he snatches your face and kisses you covetously. it was messy and off-kilter and you didn’t enjoy it. this wasn’t a problem that he could kiss you through as he did in other situations. you pried his fingers off of your face and stepped back, shutting your mouth so his tongue just licked your face until he quit, taking a gander at you with a risky desire.

“i don’t want to kiss right now, suguru...” his nostrils flared at your words and his hand snaked up to the back of your neck. you drove his hand away again in which he quickly snatched you by the throat and pushed you into a wall. “su-sugu...” you struggled to speak and felt your face tightening. your fingers scratched at his flexed hand in an attempt to pry his fingers from your throat, however, you didn't succeed.

“i’ve lost my mind, y/n,” he growls, gazing at you with a profound, threatening glare. “i hope that doesn’t mean you don’t love me.” he let go of your throat but pushed you into the wall again, making you hit your head.

you wheezed for air and slid to the ground, urgently attempting to breathe once more. tears settled in the outer corners of your eyes. what happened? your beautiful boy had warped into something evil, something greedy. he had never touched you like this before and it terrified you, it frightened you so awful that you could hurl. he watched you struggle instead of coming to the rescue the way he’d normally do. he was so comfortable seeing you in pain at this moment. his words replayed in your head like a broken record. you pressed your forehead into the middle of your palm as you tried to get it to stop, screwing your eyes shut.

“i still love you...” you uttered in a feeble voice. you couldn’t find the courage to bring your eyes to his. you’d rather die than be glared upon like this by him. “i still love you, suguru,” you repeated. and you meant it.

his ears perked at the sound of your voice. despite the way he had just choked you for the suspicion that you didn’t love him anymore, he didn’t want to hear the words come out of your mouth. he knew he had committed an unforgivable crime, one, not even you would stay with him for. he knew that you were afraid and, with much guilt, he wanted it to stay that way. he didn’t want you to keep loving him for the sake of your safety, your own heart. but he needed to have you one last time before he walked out of that door. he needed to have you one last time before everything fell to shit. one could argue that things already did. 

he leans down and picks you up bridal style, bringing you to the bed that the two of you shared. he laid you down, caressing your cheek with a somber expression on his face.

“please stop loving me after tonight, y/n,” he whispers in your ear as he inclined down and began to kiss your earlobe, moving to your cheek and then your neck. your eyes augment at his sudden words. no. he anticipated your guarding hands and once they lifted to push him off, he was already grabbing them, pinning them above your head.

“suguru, please-” you interjected but he cut you off with another one of those messy kisses. You tucked your lips and turned your head left and right, trying to block it.

“stop fighting it,” he tells you in a warning tone. “please, just stop.”

you were tenacious. you tried kicking him, however, you just kneed his abdomen multiple times. “suguru, i don’t want to do this right now...i want to talk!” you started hysterically crying, wishing the entirety of this would stop. the suguru you knew wouldn't try to do this to you. he was a man of his word. he regarded you. he cherished you. this wasn't love. this was an evil longing.

realizing that you weren’t going to give up any time soon, he let go of your wrists and turned your body over. he placed his hand on the back of your head and pushed your face into the bed. your blood-curdling screams were muffled, your tears soaked into the sheets and your body trembled with immense fear.

he yanked your head up, your screams no longer suppressed and they echoed throughout the room. they were soon replaced by wheezing. “p-please-”

“promise me you’re not going to fight it...i don’t want to go any harder on you.” you gulped at the sound of his intimidating voice. you hated that you couldn’t see his face.

“i-i won’t f-fight it,” you stammered.

he finally let your hair go and gravity pulled you down on your stomach, collapsing on the bed. his hands caressed your ass, spreading his fingers over the expanse of each cheek before gripping it as if he was savoring the plushy feeling. for the first time in forever, you felt disgusted by his touch. you killed people with these hands. he pulled down your shorts, revealing your black, cotton underwear that hid underneath it.

he decided that, now, he wanted to see your face. he rolled you over onto your back and paused the subsequent he saw your face. he didn’t know what he was expecting, but you had completely shut down. you looked as if you had died. you figured that this was the solitary way you could go through with this - be numb to it all. you absentmindedly stared at the ceiling. your face was that of a cadaver. in an - almost - real sense, you let your psyche wander somewhere else and forfeited your body to him. 

suguru flinched when your eyes had finally moved. they darted to his face, taking a gander at him with an undeniable look. they then shifted to the ceiling. “do what you want, suguru.” your voice was dry and feeble. you had given up. there was nothing you could do to save him or yourself.

despite the fact that you had shut down in front of him, he still wanted to fuck you. the clunking of his buckle made your ears twitch as he unfastened his belt. once he unbuttoned his pants and unzipped the fly, they fell around his ankles and he stepped out of them. your eyes caught a glimpse of his prominent print in his underwear. he took his underwear off as swiftly as he did his pants and he held his veiny cock in his hand, stroking it slowly before rubbing it against your warmth, the only thing separating his length from your core were your panties. you gulped, terrified as you were unnerved of what move he’d make next.

instead of taking off your panties, he slides them aside, your breath hitching once your clit was met with cold air. to suguru’s disappointment, you weren’t aroused, yet he wasn’t surprised. but that didn’t stop him from pushing two, long fingers inside of you. you grimaced at the feeling of the burning sensation as his fingers forcefully and uncomfortably pushed into your walls. realizing he was getting nowhere, he grunts with irritation and rips off your panties. his head makes a plunge between your legs, his tongue frantically flicking at your clit. 

no.

your back wildly curved a smidgen and you squeezed your lips tight to cover the moans that needed to be urgently liberated from your lips. your stomach uncontrollably tucked in and out. your body formed a layer of sweat as your body temperature steadily rose higher and higher. he devoured you sporadically, no pattern, no steady pace. he wanted you wet. he wanted you gushing. he just wanted to feel comfortable inside of you.

against your own will, you gave him want he wanted. at the point when your lips at long last abandoned keeping down your groans, they came out stressed and weak. when his tongue had come in contact with your increasing slick, he lifted his head again. you deplorably became lascivious - craving him, needing him, and wanting him. you loathed yourself for it, how quickly he could make you lose yourself. this was most likely the last chance you’d get to touch him...feel him. no matter what, you couldn’t open your eyes. you had to pretend like this was all a dream. the man in front of you wasn’t a murderer, he was the loving guy he had always been. he liked getting his hair brushed before bed. he liked making you breakfast if he ever woke up before you. he liked taking showers with you, washing every last trace of your body while also getting a chance to admire it, to praise it. suguru liked kissing you in public, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. he liked making love to you after a hot bath. he liked asking if you were comfortable between each movement he made. he liked entwining fingers when he was ready to cum inside your tight cunt. he liked kissing you after he was done releasing, falling close to you, and murmuring “i love you.”

that’s the suguru that was touching you, right? right?

“no...” you whispered out loud as a response to your own psyche.

you hadn’t even realized he was scouring your wet warmth with his fingers and you regrettably had to open your eyes, only to be hit with the painful reality of things. you were too lost in this imaginary fantasy that the man in front of you was the same man a couple of days before. he simply was not. this was not the suguru that you fell in love with. but tonight, you had to make the best out of what you had right now.

“kiss me...”

“huh?” a perplexed look spreads across his face.

“kiss me.” you plead louder, hoping that the old suguru inside this man in front of you would hear you. and he did.

suguru brings himself down, crashing his lips into yours with passion, with regret. his tip unintentionally teased your entrance as he was hunched over you, making you squirm. he breaks away from the kiss and positions himself in front of your opening. you swore your soul left your body when you felt his calloused hands hassle with your dank fingers, finally settling in the free space between them. they locked in place and that was the moment you felt his love again, his comfort. you were taking so much time to process that he was holding your hands that it distracted you from the fact that he was entering you, stretching your opening.

you gasped, your eyes flitting rapidly before they eventually closed. you squeezed his hands as he continued to push the entirety of his length inside of you. your body jolted at the sudden feeling of his lips on your neck. contrary to what you expected, his thrusts were slow, steady, and amorous. tender kisses were scattered on your skin, his lips sucked on sweet spots that only he knew. the pretty moans that flew from your lips were out of your control. you were addled, trying to make sense of his actions that completely contradicted his demeanor from before. as he quickened his pace you could hear him inhaling every time he pulled back and exhaling every time his hips went forward to meet your groin. your eyebrows furrowed when you heard those breaths stutter. he was breathing spasmodically - he was silently sobbing.

at this point, he couldn’t hide it anymore. he thrusted into you harder as he got more overwhelmed. when he finally lifted his head, that’s when you saw it, his grief. his eyes were tightly shut, he was biting on his bottom lip, and tears, real tears, had rolled down his gaunt cheeks and met at this chin. your lips part as a look of despair came across your face. the sight was jarring, it was unusual. you wanted to hold him, kiss him, caress him, something. your hands still felt comfortable in the finger embrace, so you squeezed his hand as tight as you could, feeling like your bones would rip out of your skin.

suguru, i’m here.

at this moment you accepted that he had done something terrible and his soul had become wretched, but again, cursed yourself for still loving him. your love for him was unconstrained. shamefully, your perception of his disposition could not be tainted. this would remain your first and only love. he was your everything, your entire world.

and he knew this.

he knew this because he feels the same way about you. every feeling between the two of you is always reciprocated. there was complete equilibrium between this connection. both of you felt blessed by god himself to be able to experience a love like this, a love that many people cannot acquire. a love that everyone else coveted.

he kissed you feverishly, sniffling as he continued to move his hips, the sound of skin slapping echoing throughout the room. you found the strength to wriggle your fingers away from his and place your small hands onto his back to hold him close to you. he would die in your arms if he could right now. still, he hated the way you kept showing him affection at a time like this, but it’s not like he was making it easy for you to despise him.

it just kept bothering him. it was bothering him because he knew couldn’t have you like this anymore after tonight. he didn't lament his contemptible decisions, yet he was enduring inside on the grounds that he had allowed himself to get so attached to you, and he let you get so attached to him. he wished he could tell you how much he loved you, how sorry he was. he wished that he didn’t succumb so deep into his own madness. he wished he could embrace you and tell you everything was okay. he wished he had just left the country instead of coming back here to you. he wanted you to be happy. he wanted you to live your life without him. he wanted you to be safe, yet, he wanted to be there to watch you prosper, to watch you find yourself, to watch you smile, to watch you cry. he couldn’t be here to watch you live out the rest of your long life. he wanted to kiss you. he wanted to hold you. he wanted to sleep with you. he wanted to marry you. he wanted to have kids with you. he wanted to grow old with you. where were these passionate thoughts before he slaughtered those monkeys?

“i’m sorry,” he whispers into your ear before he starts ramming into you rather roughly.

i hate that i want to forgive you.

you whimpered his name graciously, arms still wrapped around his built body as he delivered rhythmic strokes. he was getting closer to his climax, his face strained as he grunted and choked back pleasurable moans. he pushes himself up with his hand pressed firmly into the mattress, gazing down at how your gummy walls didn’t hesitate to take him in every time he pulled out.

“one last thing,” he murmurs. “i’ll give you one last thing.”

what does that mean-?

the voice in your head was cut off by the feeling of warm, sticky fluids saturating your hole. he let out a dragged-out groan as he came inside of your pulsating cunt, filling you up to the brim. his eyes screwed shut from the relieving feeling of his climax.

he opens his eyes, looking at your pretty face. he gets on the bed and lays down, pulling up your body and laying you down on his chest, holding you for the last time. the ear that was pressed against his chest could hear his agile heartbeat. your lips quivered before you started to weep in his arms. you were so out of it, still so confused on what he wanted, what he was thinking. you wished he could just tell you, but even you knew he wouldn’t. he couldn’t. he didn’t want you to follow him, to abandon the long, stainless life you had ahead of you. he didn’t want you to keep thinking of him.

it hurt to walk out that door that day without expressing everything to you. it hurt to walk out that door, period. once he finally got off the bed, he did nothing more and said nothing more.

as his back faced the apartment building as he walked on, he cried silently, regretting every step he was taking. if only you knew how much he loved you, how many times you had saved him from becoming this way early on, how he trusted you and relied on you to keep him stable when times were rough, how much he hated to see you in pain. if only you knew, if only you knew.

he fell while you prospered. he took two young girls under his wing while you cried once you saw the positive as clear as day on that pregnancy test. he shamelessly played house with his “shaman” family while you had moved in with satoru with a growing belly. he pleasurably mocked the lives of non-shamans while you gave birth to the very thing he hated in a delivery room. he slowly lost himself while you imbibed every word in those self-care books to better yourself for the sake of your baby girl. he laid awake at night, disturbed, while you slept peacefully on satoru’s couch, your infant child asleep in a rocker beside you. he cried in the shower as he thought of you while you cooed and giggled with your child as you soothingly washed her in the kitchen sink. he talked to himself when he was too out of it while you read bedtime stories to your child. he fell while you prospered. he thanked satoru for taking care of you during these miserable times before he was brought to his death while you gazed at your child and thought of him for the first time in months, murmuring, “you’re just as pretty as your father was.”

a/n: i hope you enjoyed this. i feel very proud that i took my time on this particular fic. just want to remind everyone that if you find yourself in abusive relationships, please talk to someone. if you find yourself having suicidal tendencies, please talk to someone. being an abuse survivor myself, i hope that i reached other survivors with this work. i hope my words touched someone.

#suguru geto #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru #getou suguru imagines #getou suguru smut #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen getou #getou x reader #jjk #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jjk imagines #jjk x reader

[hes-writer]

deja vu

Summary: part two of drivers license!

Warning: angst

Word Count: 1643 words

let me know if you liked it!

_____

If this was a movie, Y/N would’ve collapsed on the floor, knees hitting the ground as her legs lost the ability to keep her weight up. The corners of her lips would tilt downwards as a fusion of sadness and nostalgia bombarded her at every corner. Tears would collect at her waterline, waiting for the remarkable blink that would send each drop of salty liquid down the apples of her cheeks. Y/N imagined she would call Harry on her phone and scream at him as soon as the click sounded, signalling that he had picked up the call.

Yet as seconds passed by, none of those theatrical episodes happened.  Unlike in the movies, Y/N’s physical reactions were minuscule. Her heart ached in her chest. Her throat scrunched like a wad of tissue papers in her hand, drying up with shock and the shallow inhales she let out.  The swirling of her stomach increased tenfold as she teetered between feelings of anger and indifference.  This should not affect her anymore--or should it? It had barely been a few months since she last saw him and a little bit after when the first photos of Harry and his girlfriend went viral on the internet.

Everyone, especially him, seemed to move on from the relationship that they had shared.  Y/N felt like she needed to catch up to him, racing to throw away the feelings she still held for him and to pretend as though nothing happened.  But it was easier said than done.  There were still endless memories that replayed through her head every time she passed by an ice cream shop.  It was a hidden gem, past the popular hot spots.  Not a lot of people knew about it because of its distanced location.  And as much as Harry was a certified health nut; his guilty pleasure was a scoop of strawberry ice cream--in a cup instead of a waffle cone, of course.

Y/N still remembered those drives-turned-beach-trips.  It was mostly during his days off.  She and Harry would spend the whole day together, sharing one spoon amongst each other while they passed the cup of ice cream back and forth. The sound of the ocean encompassed them as they lay hidden around an alcove of rocks. It was a secluded area of the beach that Y/N had found way before.  The sand was grainy beneath the layer of a checkered picnic blanket that Harry kept at the trunk of his car, their bodies laying on top of it.  Eventually, Harry would proceed to just spoon-feed her, ‘accidentally’ nudging her nose with the cold treat.

.

.

.

.

Y/N could feel her shoulders slump at the flashback, body sagging as she sighed at what her phone screen was reflecting back to her.  It was her Instagram feed showcasing Harry’s profile. A picture of a haunting landscape was captured by his phone lens; it was the very same beach spot that she had taken him to.  Deja vu.

She bit her lip, wanting to smile about how he still visited it even without her.  It showed that Harry still kept a memory of her at the back of his mind.  Y/N’s heart fluttered at the thought, a sliver of hope shining through the dimness of her days. But it was impossible to keep an optimistic stance when she saw the caption.  A simple tag of his new girlfriend’s Instagram handle puckered her lips into a sour expression, brows pinching together in curiosity as Y/N continuously denied the obvious constituent of events.

“There’s no way,” She muttered, breath hitching as Y/N’s thumb hesitated on tapping the bolded font.

There was absolutely no way that Harry would bring someone else in such a coveted spot.  It was hers; she found it first and now he was acting as though it did not hold any meaning to her.  Not like Y/N didn’t spend the last few days laying on his lap, watching the sunset over the horizon. Harry’s fingers would comb through her tendrils, tucking his jacket tighter around her chin to ensure that she was warm despite him being covered in goosebumps himself. Y/N would look up to see the beginning stubbles of his facial hair as Harry looked ahead, his green eyes mirroring the artistic hues of orange, pink and purple.

“What’s up, Y/N?” Jenny asked, returning from her short trek to Y/N’s small kitchen. One hand was carrying a large bowl of chips while the other held two cans of soda.

Y/N stared at her friend with hesitance.  Was it worth bringing it up? She must be sick of her talking about him all the time.

“He brought her to our place,”

It was harder to hear it out loud.  She didn’t even recognize her own voice; void of emotion except for a strained sound of pain.

Jenny tilted her head to the side, “Who did?”

“Harry. . .” Y/N cleared her throat before continuing, “There was this place I found in Malibu. At a beach.  It’s pretty hidden and I used to go there by myself whenever I needed to think. I took him there.  It was our place, you know? Somewhere only the two of us knew and I don’t know,” She trailed off.

“You thought he would keep it between you guys,” Jenny finished off, nodding her head in empathic comprehension.

“Yeah, it just sucks,” Y/N furrowed her brows, staring at the space in front of her as she took in the gravity of the situation. “He even took her to D’Campos,”

“The ice-cream shop?”

She nodded, “It was on her Instagram story today,”

“Forget about him, Y/N. He doesn’t deserve your tears,”

“I’m not even crying,” She chuckled, slapping Jenny’s arm jokingly.

“You look like you’re about to,”

Y/N sighed, “It hurts.  Feels like he’s everywhere.  Just when I thought I was moving on, he pulls shit like this and I’m forced to remember how good it was between us, you know? I haven’t driven past D’Campos or anywhere else that I might see him because it hurts too much to reminisce what I don’t have anymore.”

It was ridiculous how much Y/N has had to change her routine in order not to feel any more pain.  She actively avoided places where Harry frequented in fear of confrontation and also because he might be with his girlfriend.  She didn’t know how she could stay stoic seeing their hands clasped together, gazing at each other lovingly when Y/N wanted that from him for herself.

“You’re doing just fine, honey.  Do you know who can’t move on? Him.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s doing fine,” Y/N said sarcastically, resting her back on the couch. “Better, even.”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” Jenny argued, “Out of the two of you, who’s the one always going to the places you shared?”

Y/N opened her mouth to answer but a swift hand in the air caused her to halt.

“It’s him, right?” Jenny answered rhetorically.  “I do not care what you say; that man misses you and it shows.  Harry’s going to where he expects you to be, probably in hopes of running into you. Maybe even because he wants to relive the moments you shared together with her in hopes of him feeling the same way he felt like when he did with you,”

“T-that’s insane. He’s fine without me,” Y/N stuttered out, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance.

“First of all, you are in denial. Secondly, you cannot tell me that he doesn’t. He’s practically doing everything you guys used to do with this new girl.  Why? Because he fucking misses you, Y/N.  Hell, you’ve even got the same name.”

“It’s just a coincidence,”

“My ass,” Jenny scoffs, “Answer me something, do you still remember how it felt being there with him?”

Y/N nodded, “Always,”

“Describe it to me,”

Y/N squinted her eyes in suspicion. Where was Jenny going with this?

“Uh, as cheesy as it sounds, I felt happy and free. I could talk about anything without being judged.  He had a way of making me feel comfortable without even saying anything.  When we were together--wherever we were--I could be vulnerable about myself in front of him,”

“Would you do whatever it takes to feel that same way again?”

In a heartbeat, Y/N stated, “Without a doubt.”

“Tell me, if Harry asked you to meet him there right now, would you go?”

Y/N’s breath hitched as she took a moment to process the question. She had just said that she would do whatever it takes to feel the same unconfined emotion again.  So why was she saying ‘no’?

“I-I wouldn’t,”

“Exactly,” Jenny concluded with a quirk of her brow.

“You’re gonna have to explain,”

“Gladly,” Her friend quipped. “You want to feel liberated, vulnerable, and honest again but not necessarily with Harry.  That place meant a lot to you--sure.  But it doesn’t matter.  What counts is who you are with.  Who’s giving you that type of comfortability that you’re able to be just yourself around them. Do you understand?”

Y/N leaned forward in interest.

“You are well aware of that but you won’t accept it. You won’t go with him because you know that it won’t be the same anymore. That’s the first step of moving on.  Once you acknowledge that as much as you miss him, as much as you think you want him to be around, you know better than that. He’s changed and so have you.  He’s searching for that same feeling by going back to the places that you used to go to.  Thinks he will find it there but--,”

“He won’t.” Y/N finished off. “Because she is not me,”

___

#harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #deja vu #sour #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic

[mirkosintern]

Crawlin’ back to you

pairing: dabi x fem!reader

genre: smut with a lil angst and fluff if you squint

notes: reader is a member of the lov, set in the meta liberation army arc (before the war!), possessive dabi, wowee this is my first work!! I never expected myself to be able to write a piece but here we are ehehe this was inspired by a certain tiktok actually. U may have already noticed but the title is from the song do I wanna know? by the arctic monkeys<3

warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, breeding, cum play, dubcon-ish?, toxic relationship, degradation, vulgar language, alcohol

word count: 3k

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That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day Crawlin’ back to you Ever thought of callin’ when you've had a few? 'Cause I always do Maybe I'm too busy bein’ yours to fall for somebody new Now I've thought it through

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Dabi wasn’t one to do feelings. He’s screwed numerous women, but they were nothing more than some toys to fulfill his sexual needs. Neither did he want to have feelings, nor did he need to. Afterall, his side hoes who begged to stay with him even after all the degradation he’s given them disgusted him the most. He would snicker at their pathetic attempts and cut them off ruthlessly.

However, you were an only exception.

No, he did not have feelings for you, he swears he never did and never will. But you were different from his other disposable sluts--he kept you around. He didn’t ghost you, instead, he kept coming back. It is only because you’re a member of the lov as well, he thinks. You are easy to access since you’re always around the lov base, and he doesn’t even have to worry about getting caught by civilians or stupid bitches who suddenly decide to turn him into the police. You guys were practically co-workers with benefits, fuck buddies where the “buddies” part is questionable.

Dabi didn’t mind that he made an exception for you until that night. That very night where you sleepily decided to crawl into his arms after a rough round and whispered him how you loved the rough texture of his skin against yours. That very night where you pressed delicate kisses beneath his jaw. The moment of intimacy—making his heart pound and warmth spread beneath his cold skin—was threatening. You were threatening.

That’s where he cut you off completely. He did not knock on your bedroom door located in the lov base anymore. He stopped sending those “you up?” texts at 3am. He didn’t even lock eyes with you or talk to you anymore.

It feels as if something heavy dropped inside you, squashing your heart to the point where it’s painful. You try your best to ignore the pang in your chest and remind yourself that you guys were nothing more than co-workers with benefits. However, the enduring heartburn only functions to make you realize how attached you were to him. He’s Dabi, the biggest scumbag you will ever meet, what did you expect? What were you thinking? It should be no surprise this happened, right? But having to encounter his stupidly handsome face every day was not doing any help. You are a girl with dignity, you tell yourself, trying your best to ignore his strong scent of campfire and cologne drowning you every time you guys are in the same room.

The pain is suffocating you for weeks, and you finally decide to completely get over him. The night Dabi brings a bimbo to his room and fucks her loud enough for everyone in the lov to hear—for you to hear—you’re done with everything. You step outside, get drunk, do anything to numbify the pain the raven-haired guy has caused you, and even meet a nice-looking guy who seems to be interested in you.

You are doing good without Dabi.

You don’t need Dabi anymore.

You are not letting him get to your head.

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A party.

League of villains is all about privacy, but they also started having some fun after uniting with the meta liberation army. Now they had sufficient money, people and place to throw parties every now and then without the danger of getting caught by civilians. Afterall, a number of heroes were in their side as well.

“Not gonna lie, you guys do know how to host parties.” Keigo smirks, picking up a glass of bourbon whiskey. “It’s fuckin’ lame,” Dabi answers as he downs a glass of liquor.

“So, what happened with y/n?” Keigo throws a suggestive smile.

“The hell you mean what happened with her?” Dabi frowns.

“Y’know, didn’t you guys used to be a thing or something?”

“Nah, she was an occasional fuck and that’s it.”

“Oh really? The Dabi I know never fucks a same bitch twice though. I thought she was something special.”

“Special?”

“Yeah, thought maybe you actually wanted her.”

A smug grin appears on Dabi’s face. “Never even liked her.”

“Have you seen her and her new boyfriend?”

The smile is quick to vanish from his face after hearing the word boyfriend. Dabi’s eyes widen, immediately glaring at Keigo. Before he could say anything, Keigo tilts his chin to point something.

“There they are.”

Dabi turns his head only to find you clinging onto some guy’s arm. Your cheeks are flushed –a pretty, pink glow on your face—as you bat your eyelashes at the guy. Bubbly giggles escape from your lips while you stare at him through half-lidded eyes. The guy’s arm is secured around your waists, pulling you closer to him.

Dabi sees red.

His entire body freezes as his grip around the liquor glass tighten. Dabi doesn’t say anything for a moment, but there is no way Keigo wouldn’t pick up how his cerulean eyes are flaming at the sight. “Well, I thought you knew.” Keigo pats Dabi’s shoulder. “Wouldn’t matter anyways right? You never liked her.”

“…Right.” Dabi takes another sip from the liquor, his eyes still fixed to you.

Keigo’s words are true; at least they are supposed to be true. Dabi didn’t have feelings for you. He doesn’t do romance. No feelings were ever involved with any of the women he’s slept with, and he made sure of it. It was so clear for Dabi without a question.

But why is it unable for him to erase the sight of you with some guy as he forces himself to sleep that night? Why are your sweet giggles echoing his head? Why can’t he get rid of the thought of you in that tight, black dress that perfectly complements the curves of your body? Why is the moment where the guy places his hand on your inner thigh replaying in his head? Why are thoughts of you messing with his mind?

“Fucking hell.”

Dabi gets up. This was fucking annoying. You were truly fucking annoying.

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You tilt your head to check the glowing digits of your digital clock on the nightstand. 2:15am. It’s late, and you haven’t even taken off the dress you wore to the party. You are too tired both physically and emotionally. You’ve done quite a decent job in entertaining the man who’s accompanied you through the whole party, but it was truly an energy-consuming task. You and him walked around as if you guys were the happiest couple in the party; but the truth is that you guys aren’t even properly dating yet. Solely because you have constantly been refusing to properly answer him asking you to be his girlfriend. It’s not that he’s bad looking or anything, but the idea of being with him just doesn’t sit right with you. Ever since you’ve met him, he couldn’t keep his hands off you without asking you anything about consent. You always had to pull his hand away with an uncomfortable smile, yet he never took a hint. However, when a dating rumor about you and him started and spread quickly, you didn’t try to correct anything. Maybe it was because you wanted to pull out a reaction from a certain villain. Maybe your unusual actions at today’s party; clinging onto the guy and laughing at every single word he spoke; was to make Dabi witness how happy you were.

 Truthfully, you were dying inside.

 What was even worse was that none of your attempts seemed to bring an ounce of reaction from Dabi. When have you become so pathetic and desperate? You feel tears welling up in your eyes, hot and burning, but you don’t want to cry. Not for an asshole like him. You take out your phone, find the guy’s name, and text him that you don’t want to see him anymore. You feel a little guilty, thinking that you may have used him to provoke something from Dabi, but your thoughts are too worn out for you to comprehend anything. You flop onto your bed and bury your face in your pillow. You huff out a deep sigh, and the soft texture of your cotton pillow feels warm on your cheeks. In all honesty, you were thinking about Dabi the whole time you were at the party. Whenever the guy’s hand creeped up your thighs or gripped on your ass, you imagined it was Dabi’s, trying your hardest to feel something from the contact.

 You weren’t over Dabi. You never were. Realization hurts, leaving a sour feeling in your mouth.

 Your body shoots up at the sudden, loud slamming sound emerged from your door. Your teary eyes widen at the lean man slamming the door shut. “Dabi?” You ask, not believing your eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?” Without an answer, Dabi’s one hand reaches for your throat as his other hand grips your wrist. His large body is towering over you, and you feel your bed shift as he dips one knee in the mattress. His sapphire eyes pierce through your soul, and you can feel his raging anger just from looking at him.

“You’re such a pain in the ass, y’know that?”

“Dabi, what are you-“

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence, pulling you in for a heated kiss. Your lips open reflexively, enabling him to deepen the kiss. The kiss is aggressive, and he doesn’t know whether it is because of his anger or his pent-up desires towards you that he has been suppressing. The kiss gets sloppier over time, hot and wet with saliva and tongue. He lets go of the grip on your wrist and starts tracing your inner thigh with his thumb, and you let out a soft moan. You finally pull away from the kiss to catch your breath, but he doesn’t cease to caress your thigh. Instead, he lowers himself to your ear. “You seem to really love thigh touches, don’t you?” His low voice and hot breath brushing the shell of your ear sends chills down your spine.

“Huh?”

“I always knew you were a slut, but never knew you were this much of a whore. You would bend over any guy who offers you some touches, right?”

Tears swell in your eyes again at his vile words, but it’s hard to talk when his knuckles are repeatedly brushing your clit.

“I’m… not a slut…nngh.” Suppressed moans escape your lips.

“Yeah? Why are you making those sounds then?”

“Dabi…”

He yanks your dress up and dips two fingers inside your lace panties, making you let out a weak yelp. Dabi raises his brows with a smug grin on his face.

“Oh, so she indeed is a slut huh? You get this fucking wet from a kiss?”

His two digits start pumping inside you, and you grip on his white shirt at the sudden sensation. Your gasps and moans get louder, and you suddenly feel his wet lips against your neck. Dabi sucks hard, making sure to leave dark purple marks from your jaw to your neck and shoulder, as he repeats the step of curling his fingers and pulling them inside and out your hole. “Dabi…too fast.” You whine out. “Yeah?” A sadistic grin appears on Dabi’s face. “Be a good slut and take what I give you.” His thumb reaches for your clit, making your legs shiver.

“Nngh…stop, I’m gonna… Dabi I’m gonna cum.”

“Stop? You want me to stop?”

“No!”

“Do you deserve it though?” he slows his pace while teasing your clit. “Beg.”

It’s humiliating, really—but do you have any other choice when you are this close?

“Please, Dabi… I’ll be your good slut. Please let me cum!” Your desperate cries have him pumping his fingers fast again, and soon you’re seeing white. Hot drops of release coat Dabi’s fingers as he pulls out.

“Say ah.”

“A-ah.”

You obey, and Dabi sticks his digits inside your mouth. Your mouth wraps around them immediately, sucking as if it’s a pacifier. “Good girl,” Dabi says as he pats your head, and it makes your stomach swoop with sick pride.

The bulge in his pants is becoming painful, and he contemplates on fucking your mouth. But he’s too impatient; He feels the need to abuse your cunt right now. He wants to hear your screams and cries as he proves who you belong to.

“Take that off.” Dabi gestures at your dress, and you start undressing as he demands. Dabi pulls down his sweatpants and boxers, causing his cock to spring out. It’s so pretty, you think, and you can’t help but admire his red tip, glistening with precum. He pumps his length a few times and lines it up with your entrance. You inhale a sharp gasp as you feel his whole length inside you. It feels so full; it feels as if he’s gonna split you in half if he starts moving.

“Ah, too big.”

“I know.” Dabi looks down on you. “Take it like a little slut you are.”

Before you could even talk back, he is moving inside you. Your moans blend with the noise of the bed creaking; a perfectly harmonized orchestra to Dabi’s ears.

You knew Dabi wasn’t one to prep you or go slow, but you feel like he’s going way rougher than usual. His wild thrusts have your head lolling backwards, and Dabi does not miss the chance to take a hard bite on your neck. You scream out of both pain and pleasure, and you feel two hot streams of tears on your flushed cheeks.

“Aww, she’s crying.” Dabi says in a mocking tone. “Bet you love the pain.”

Humiliation fills your chest and you turn your head away, but Dabi quickly grabs your chin with one hand, forcing you to directly face him.

“Who’s the one making you feel this full?” he asks.

“Y-you.”

“Did he ever make you feel this way?”

Wait, he? Who does he mean by he? Your alleged boyfriend? Could it be possible that Dabi was doing this out of jealousy? You try to comprehend, but it’s impossible for you to think clearly, not when Dabi is fucking you stupid. “No!” You shout.

Dabi’s free hand reaches for your clit and starts rubbing circles. “Tell me, who does this pussy belong to?”

“You…” You try to answer, but he suddenly lifts up your lower body and slams into your cervix in the right angle. It has you moaning even louder, your insides spasming around his cock.

“I can’t hear you.” He smirks sadistically.

“You, Dabi, it belongs to you! I belong to you!” You’re screaming his name like it’s the only word you know, making his cock twitch. “That’s right. You are all for me, all for me to use. Just a pathetic little slut for my cock.” A satisfactory grin appears on Dabi’s face.

Dabi lowers his body down and grunts directly into your ear as he thrusts even faster. The sound of his skin slamming into yours is so erotic, and you can feel how close you are.

“You wanna cum huh?” His words have you nodding frantically, babbling incoherent words. Yes Dabi—wanna cum so bad—wanna be yours—wanna be your good girl—please, dabi.

“Then do it. Make a mess on my cock.”

“Nngh, Dabi!” You scream out his name as euphoria washes down your body. His release follows you soon enough, painting your walls white. You feel warmth filling your belly while his groans echo in your ear. You’re still sobbing and panting after he pulls out, without any energy left to move. As your blurry vision starts getting clearer, you feel his warm skin and the sting of his cold staples against your back. His long arms wrap around your oversensitive body, pulling you closer to him.

“You’re messing with my head.” Dabi rests his forehead on the back of your shoulder.

“Huh?”

You’re confused, but Dabi doesn’t elaborate. His ego doesn’t let him do such thing.

“When you said you belonged to me, did you mean it?”

You bite your lower lip, not knowing how to respond to his sudden question. Millions of unspoken words and feelings are hanging in the back of your throat, creating a huge lump. You swallow them all and spit out a question instead. “Do you want me to belong to you?”

“Yeah.” Your eyes widen at his unexpected response, butterflies fluttering inside your chest. “Be mine.” His low voice vibrates against your soft skin. Your heart melts at his words, and you cannot stop your feelings from overspilling anymore. At that moment you both realize; you and Dabi were meant to crawl back to each other, no matter how hard you both try and struggle.

“I’m yours.” You smile, “I’m all yours.”

#dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #mha x reader #bnha x y/n #touya x reader #touya x y/n #todoroki touya x reader #dabi #todoroki touya #dabi lemon #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #dabi fanfic #dabi fic

[sho-cah-toa]

This was originally just going to be what Sho has been/is planning, but it turned into a huge (like 11-paragraph) analysis of his actions in NEO as well as potential post-NEO verses, so uhhhhhhhh:

WHAT’S SHO BEEN UP TO? When Sho comes back after the events of TWEWY, he feels an even greater burden to set things right in Shibuya. During the Long Game, he believed that the Composer was the top dog in the UG, and that assuming that role would allow him to run things as he saw fit.

However, the Shibuya he returns to is different; the Composer is gone, as is Hanekoma. He does some digging (maybe even finds a few Secret Reports) and learns about the Higher Plane and their influence over every part of the UG, even the Composer. Suddenly, it’s not just one person he has to take down, but a cadre of literal Angels.

He lays low and stays in the 2-Year Game as a player, keeping above the threshold for erasure while staying solo and gathering more information about the Angels and the overall hierarchy of the Higher Plane, and also learns about Shiba’s gambit. After a while, the number of players starts to slow to a trickle, and the teams get harder and harder to keep up with. Sho puts together that the Game is searching for stronger and stronger players, and decides to align himself with the next group of players that wind up in the UG to prevent Shibuya’s erasure. That’s where Fret and Rindo (and later, Nagi) come in.

SO WHY DOES SHO TURN ON THE TWISTERS? Once Sho catches wind that Neku is back, he immediately ditches the Twisters to go looking for him, but finds nothing. He realizes that his time to act is running out; Shibuya is on its way to the same fate as Shinjuku, and the Replay pin is playing right into their plan. In a final act of desperation, he attacks the Twisters and tries to steal the pin to throw off whatever plan Shiba and the angels have, as well as to use the power of the pin to stop Shibuya’s destruction himself. We all know how well that goes.

As he recovers from this fight, he sees what the Twisters are capable of as a team, and for the first time in his stupid life, realizes that there’s strength in numbers (ironic). He aids in the battle for Shibuya (I could write a whole other text post about this, the fact that no individual person saves Shibuya but that the entire city both RG and UG contributes is beautiful and I cried) and his current plan for taking on the Higher Plane begins to form.

OKAY ZANDER WHAT’S THE PLAN ALREADY Sho is making sure that everyone in a high-ranking position in the UG is someone who cares deeply about Shibuya and its people. This includes the Conductor, the Game Master, the Composer, and the Producer. He believes (and will try to convince these positions) that the Higher Plane has turned its back on Shibuya and will try to destroy it again before long.

The solution, according to Sho, is to break all ties with the Higher Plane and fail to comply with their rules. A new game begins, with only one goal: defend Shibuya at all costs. Fail, and face purification. All new arrivals to the UG are recruited to fight for the city they love and live in; much like the Reaper’s Game, those with exceptional Imagination and devotion to Shibuya are given Reaper status and abilities.

Now, the one thing Sho has been unable to learn at this point is exactly how strong the Higher Plane actually is, which is why he’s recruiting everyone he can to defend Shibuya once they go AWOL. The way he sees it, the worst case scenario is they “purify” Shibuya, which he believes they are going to try to do anyways. His hope is that an army of Players, Reapers, and a few fallen Angels will be more trouble than they’re worth, and the Higher Plane will eventually come to an armistice with the newly liberated city.

FUTURE PLOT STUFF The way I personally see this going down plays out in a few different ways, each of which could probably be their own verse to play in. One is that Sho’s plan goes exactly as he expects, and the Reaper’s Game becomes one of defending Shibuya from the Higher Plane. Reapers lead teams of Players, research weapons/methods of defeating the Angels, and refine Noise for various battle purposes. Sho would remain a Reaper, becoming a decent tactician and always leading from the front.

Another is that Sho cannot convince the Composer to choose Shibuya over their duties to the Higher Plane, and he once again has to fight for the role to enact his plan. This is, admittedly, an incredibly selfish timeline, because what Sho RPer doesn’t want to do a Composer Sho verse where he realizes what a bummer the position actually is. In this timeline, I don’t think the city has a chance of succeeding, due to Sho’s insecurities and other negative traits trickling down into Shibuya’s inhabitants.

There is a third option, which is that everyone calls Sho out on how crazy his plan is and tells him to kick rocks. He decides that if he must, he will take on the Higher Plane himself, because damn my boy is stupid. He obviously fails, but hmmmmm say the Angels, what a shame it would be to waste such zeal and power, what if he just had a more righteous direction? You’re probably ahead of me already so I’ll just say it: Executor Sho. If you can’t beat em, join em, and if Shibuya’s going to fall, let it be the first domino of many, and let that be its legacy. Darkest timeline, I’d probably hate writing for it, but it’s there as a possibility.

#𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝: ooc #𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝙾𝚛 𝙰𝚝𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚜: character study #neo twewy spoilers #// well that went places i wasn't expecting when i started

[kookiepredictions]

Message from Jungkook’s Higher Self to his DF

My most precious,

I have been thinking about you again. Well, I say again, but I had never stopped in the first place. Do you think about me too? I think you do. At least I want to believe you do. I feel like that’s all that I have left right now. I feel so lost and confused. I feel like I’m trapped in a maze, but I’m not stuck in one place. I’m moving through this maze. And I’m moving willingly. It’s like there’s something at the end of that maze that is calling out to me and I can’t seem to refuse. I feel like I’m ensnared by that calling and I must keep moving towards it. It feels like I have free will but at the same time, I have absolutely no control over it. I don’t want to stop, but even if I wanted to, I couldn’t stop. So I have just 2 choices: either move towards the end of that maze, or be constantly restless. The only problem is, I don’t have a map to this maze. I’m moving but I don’t know if I’m moving in the right direction. Am I getting any closer or am I getting further away? No one else seems to know either. I look for help from others but when they do, I feel like it’s useless. I have to find my own way. I’m all on my own in this path. The only person I know can help me is you. I know you are the only one who can tell me exactly what is wrong with me and how to right it. So I look for you everywhere and everytime. And then it dawns on me— is this maze leading me to you? Is that why I can’t refuse its calling? Or is there more to it? And why do I think you are the only one who can help me? I’ve known for a while now that I love you. But this feels like a lot more than what I have known the word “love” to mean. Who are you to me and why do I need you so much? Every song, every movie, every person, every place reminds me of you. How are you more present in my life than the actual people present in my life? How do you have more control over my feelings than I have over them? As if it’s not scary enough that I am so addicted to you, I don’t even know if what I’m addicted to is real or an illusion. Are you even a real person? Is our connection even real or is it all in my head? Are you a “Twin Flame”, a “Soulmate”? Have I met you in the “Past?” I don’t understand these terms and the more I learn, the more confused and lost I feel. Are you a “Karmic”? Are you here to punish and torture me for everything that I have done wrong? Tbh, that seems more likely. Half of me expects you to one day say to me, wake up, all that shit is in your head. Or, haha, you really thought I would fall in love with someone like you? However that conversation goes, it always ends up with me heartbroken. Maybe I want you so much because I believe I can never have you. And why would I? What have I ever done to deserve you and a love so perfect? Why would I get so lucky? There are so many other people who deserve this more, then why would I be The One?

Frankly, this is what I’ve always felt about myself. I got all this success and fame at such a young age. And what have I done exactly for this? I have only done what I have been told to do by other people. When there were struggles and problems, the older members and other people stressed out and solved them. I didn’t do much. Yeah, I practice hard and all, but that’s really the least I could do. Failure or success, whatever has come to me, has fallen into my lap due to someone else’s effort. I have never felt like I completely deserve it. People always say, BTS are so humble, Jungkook is so humble. But I have never seen myself as an amazing person or even a nice person. Yet people always seem to believe that about me, so I’m like, alright if that makes them happy. And so I live a dual life every day. I give people what makes them happy, but I never let myself believe what they believe about me. I know who I am. I have indulgences that I am not proud of. If people knew everything about me, they would not love me at all. Not that it mattered to me that much. I had adjusted to this dual life. But now it does. It matters to me what you think about me, how you see me. And it terrifies me because what if you think I am bad person? What if you don’t love me or even like me? My mind says it shouldn’t matter, but my heart says it does. Why does your opinion matter so much?

For as long as I can remember, I have had very high ideals regarding love— and boy I started young! I wished for a perfect love story and went into connections hoping for it but somehow it always eluded me. In my head, it always seemed perfect, but the reality always turned out to be different. I don’t really blame the other person either. I just blame it on my fate, really. At some point, it started looking like I was fated to be in connections that would never fulfil me. Sometimes I tried to adjust and compromise, and sometimes I felt really frustrated and restless for more. I never categorically felt like I wanted something more, but it always felt like there could be more. And yet, how do you look for something you don’t even know exists?

I wished for a perfect love but I did not know what I was signing up for. I always thought if and when I fell in true love, my life would become so much easier. And so when I met you, and I had all these deep feelings for you, I thought, that’s it, now my life will be so much easier and happier. But then things took a drastic turn. You know how it feels when you are taking a trip somewhere and you’re on the bus and everyone later talks about how amazing the journey was, and you realize you missed it because you were asleep throughout that journey and now you wish you weren’t? That’s how it feels right now. I wish I wasn’t so asleep when I met you. I wish I had cherished you more. There’s so much I want to do for you now but I feel like I missed my chance. I feel like I let you down and I can’t forgive myself for that. I replay the past over and over wishing I had acted differently. I pray often and every time, I pray for a second chance with you. But then I think, if I hate myself so much for having hurt you, surely you must hate me more. You always assure me that you love me, but I find it so hard to believe because how could you ever forgive me? How could you ever want me back? And that’s the moment when I feel like I am only being delusional. You are no Twin Flame of mine, you are a punishment served to me by God— a punishment the pain from which I can never recover from. Once again, love has eluded me and I am fated to live the rest of my life in pain and regret, only this time I can clearly see that I have ruined it with my own actions.

But then again, a part of me never wanted to accept this fate. A very, very small voice inside me told me this time it was somehow different. That I still had hope. That I had reason to keep trying. And that is crazy because what reason do I have? I don’t even know if this is real! I have been advised by people to be careful, to not trust you so much. And truthfully, I have tried doing that as well. I have tried forgetting you, not thinking about you. But it’s always like when you’re told not to think about something, and you start thinking about it more. I have tried to reason with myself, used logic. But I always keep drawn back into that maze again. I must find my way through it. I’m afraid something dangerous might be on the other side of it and I don’t want to land in trouble and take those who I love with me, but I can’t stop! What is this self destructive behaviour? When and how did I start trusting you so much? I feel I am at the edge of a cliff ready to take a plunge and I am terrified. What if you are not on the other side of it? What if you deceive me, let go of me, leave me to die? I think of all this and then an even terrifying thought comes up— that I am, indeed, more willing to destroy myself at your call, than to take the chance to lose you. No one should have that kind of power over anyone. I feel like you have me under a spell but it is a spell I am willingly submitting to because it brings me so much peace and joy. I have never known this ecstasy and I am addicted to it. And it’s irreplaceable and unreplicable. You are the only source of it. I know because I have tried finding it elsewhere. From other people, from work, from my ambitions. It’s never the same. You make me so happy! I can spend hours with you and still never get enough of you. I could have you wrapped tight in my arms and still feel like you’re not close enough. You feel so close to me and still so far away. You’re always right within reach and yet I still can’t hold you. It’s frustrating! I don’t want to be stuck in this place forever because it’s torture. I want all of you but I am afraid you’ll not want me. I don’t know which is worse— to be rejected by you or to never try and find out if you wouldn’t. I throw emotional tantrums trying to get you to react and respond because that’s the only way I know how to get your attention because what else can I do? What can I give you that you don’t already have? And this is another aspect of this connection that I am scared of as well. How can I match you? What can I give you? For many years, I have seen myself in a certain way. I know why people like me or love me. I am Jeon Jungkook of BTS. For so long, that was my identity. You came along and shattered that illusion. Suddenly that identity isn’t enough anymore. I feel naked around you. I feel poor. What is my identity, I don’t know anymore. I was comfortable living a life of playing a role for other people to make them accept and love me, but it’s not working on you. And honestly, now that I see it through your eyes, I don’t like it anymore either. Who am I now? I feel like a nobody. What can a nobody give you? What can a nobody give anyone? I hate being here. And yet, there’s a strange sense of liberation in this that I have never felt before. As comfortable as I have been living a dual life so far, it also felt like a burden on my shoulders. I could never truly be myself with anyone. Now I feel like I can, with you. But what if you don’t like who I truly am? I am so scared to look at myself. This is the reason why I throw tantrums to get your attention. It is easier than looking into myself. Because I fear that if I did, I will only see bad things. I will only see myself taking and taking and taking from others and I will see my judgment in there— that I am indeed a very bad person and for that, I am punished to live a life without you. If that is the truth, I don’t want to know the truth. I want to live in this beautiful illusion forever— or so I think, until I am tired of living in the illusion and want the truth. I want to know how you feel about me. I want to know if there is hope for me in this journey or if I am trying in vain. I want to know if I’m on the right track or if I’m going crazy. I am lost, I am lonely even with so many people around me, and I have no map nor a compass. All I’m being shown is the edge of this cliff and being told to take a leap of faith and even the courage that it requires I need you for that.

And then I wonder, am I annoying you with all my neediness? Are you liking me less and less every day because of how lost and incapable I am in this journey? You are so smooth, you have figured everything out and everyday I try to catch up to you but you are progressing at the speed of light and I feel more and more lost. I feel like I am failing us again. But believe me, I am changing. It might be at a slower pace than yours but I have changed so much than who I used to be before I met you. And that is why I feel that there is something special about this connection— it hasn’t just changed me with regards to you, it has changed me in all areas of my life. And I am so proud and grateful for that. But the path ahead seems to be so long still and then I lose hope and hate this journey. Why does it have to be so difficult and complicated? You love me, I love you, then why can’t we just be together? Isn’t that what love is? That’s it, I am crossing my arms and sitting here and pouting until I get what I want. (lol cutie). And then after my tantrums dissipate, I see the meaning of this journey again. I see all that it has done for me, the way it has changed me, and I am grateful and hopeful again. That small voice has actually been getting louder and louder over the days. I think the balance is tipping in favour of hope. Every day I feel a little more hopeful that we are indeed meant to be together. Maybe that’s what this maze is all about. I see light flickering more strongly at the end of it every passing day. I just have to figure my way out. In doing so, I have been learning to grow more and more confident in my own ability. I may have been discovering my own true self, devoid of my past identity created from my ego. I am purging past energies heavily and having multiple tower moments and ego deaths on the way which is where the moments of pain, the anger comes from, but every day, my resistance is weakening and I am, little by little, accepting this journey for what it is, not what I want it to be. I think I am noticing a pattern here— after the pain always comes the feeling of liberation and power. I want to be everything you want and everything you deserve. No matter what it seems like on the surface— it may seem like I am this selfish evil person who only thinks about his own needs, but believe me, I want to return back to you all the happiness and peace that you have given to me, I want to fulfil all your dreams. It may seem like I don’t value you, but you are my most precious treasure, and I want to make sure you know what your worth is to me. I am trying my best to get there. I am navigating my way as best as I can. I hope it is enough for you. I hope you can be patient with me. I hope you never give up on me. Please don’t ever leave me.

[deimcs]

omggg congrats on your dad getting his vaccine!!

hmmm THOUGHTS ON THE COLONIAL ASSASSINS?

send me “thoughts on __”

for the kenway fest head here ♡

Roll Call time, in this particular group we have: Adéwalé, Mary, Achilles, Shay and Aveline!

When it comes to my man Adéwalé I’ll admit it’s been a hot minute since I replayed Freedom Cry (I plan too, as soon as I’m done with Valhalla dlc and Black Flag) but I’ll say that I love him, as I love every single protagonist in this saga. When I was younger this whole time period wasn’t my favorite, I think I was still mourning Ezio pretty deeply and the shift in the scenario was particularly tough for me ‘cause I obviously associate Italy with home and now I was being thrown in new game mechanics that didn’t make much sense and maps with english and american npcs everywhere. It sounded boring and I kept getting confused so I resented them for a time. But now that I’m older I can recognize that while other settings and games in general are more my taste, the character dynamics in this particular era were all incredible, so intertwined! 

Loved how Adéwalé acted as a very three dimensional character even while he was by Edward’s side, I still think his friendship was fundamental for him. Adéwalé often acts like the voice of conscience but he also deeply respected Edward, even when he was making a total fool of himself. That’s friendship babey. ♥ His own experience with slavery and liberation is powerful and inspiring. I’m just sad he ultimately had to fall by Shay’s blade. Again, loved how everything is connected but the thought still makes me sad.

Mary is just iconic. She’s the moment. She’s the legend. One of the most interesting historical figures we have seen so far. I absolutely love her interactions with Edward. I never shipped them honestly, they work so much better off as friends, the teasing, the cameradie, the genuine concern and frustration made them both so human! How she subtlety swerved him into giving the Assassin’s a chance. And advocated for them to give him one too. At one specific point in time she was literally the only person to believe in him when he was hitting rock bottom and that’s so important. Her whole story is cool  but that’s just who she was, a tragic ending for an incredibly bright character.

I have conflicting feelings towards Achilles. Didn’t know really what to think during AC3, kinda hated him during Rogue but that was the point right? To show a broken man, what kind of beast grief is, how it poison both the heart and the mind. It was clever of them to show someone like him among the Assassin’s ranks. Reminded us all that we’re not talking about good or evil, black or white. Everyone walks in between those grey lines and sometimes they fall. By the time he takes Connor in, he’s old and he’s burdened with too many regrets. I do believe he loved him and I hope he found peace in trying to atone what he did to Shay.

Shay was an enigma. Before playing Rogue for the first time I didn’t know what to expect. This game punches you in the gut and throws you face first in the mud. I can bet anything, no one would ever expect to like this man the way you end up liking him in the end. I need to replay Rogue too, to refresh my memory properly but holy shit, I’m so fond of him. You can actually feel what he feels during this entire ordeal and I can’t actually blame him for anything? His actions were more than justified, his whole world crumbled beneath his feet and he had to live with the knowledge all of this could have been prevented if not for the secrets his mentor and his friends purposefully kept from him. It’s a betrayal that goes deeper than factions, he was literally stripped of his identity and had to start anew. That took courage and that took strength. It pains me to remember he was the one to kill both Adéwalé and Arno’s father but at the same time, they really make it so impossible to hate him. What the Templars showed him was a distilled version of what he lost and was desperately trying to find again: belonging.

Aveline. Aveline my girl, my actual daughter, wonderful angel. I love her, pure and simple. She’s funny, she’s witty, she’s dedicated, she’s strong. I want 3 games with just her and Connor making the States an actual better place. She’s so independent and it’s sad to think that is because she lost her mother so young and her mentor seemed more bent to antagonize her than anything else. I love how resourceful she is, if one pays attention it’s easy to notice she’s almost always the one to come up with plans and strategies, that’s not an easy skill. The doubts she had towards the Brotherhood were just the result of something she couldn’t control, she deserved better than to be treated like a novice just because she refused to take anyone else’s word as a dogma. Her dedication to the slaves is commendable and she too, like Connor, like Adéwalé she is more than just a character. Their struggles will never be “just” personal. Finally, I’m obsessed with the last plot twist she pulls on Madelaine. When the credits first rolled my jaw dropped but then BAM, the power that she has, the intelligence, the international implication. Absolute legend. 

#ask games #replies #many thoughts! many! these are just snippets cause i don't want to bore you all too much #but this is really the most interactive part of the saga if you really thing about it #everyone knew everyone at some point #how cool is that #i hope we can see it again sometime #shay cormac #aveline de grandpré #alethiometry #thoughts on

[michellejackson]

Would you be so kind as to fall in love with me?

Fandom: Druck

Pairing: Fatou Jallow/Kieu My Vu

Wordcount: 2580

Kieu My's POV throughout the week

You can also read it on ao3 :)

Kieu My couldn’t focus. She knew the teacher was talking and she was aware of her friend beside her trying to get her attention, but all she could think of was how bad she had fucked up with Fatou. She kept replaying last Friday’s events in her head, Constantine kept pestering her about potential hookups, and she played along as she so often did. But then, then he brought up Fatou. Kieu My wasn’t stupid. She knew what Constantine thought of Nora’s new friends, and honestly, she couldn’t be bothered with the pettiness that took over him every time she or her friends were brought up. She didn’t want any conflict, and she would not sit and listen to him talk more shit about Fatou. “It was just a stupid New Year’s kiss”. It wasn’t, and god, would she regret saying it was. Fatou, of course, had heard.

The words still echoed in her head, “crazy how I couldn’t see how fake you are, Kieu My.” She was stuck to her seat and couldn’t move, stunned. But then she thought, she wasn’t wrong, was she? Watching her walk away, Kieu My did nothing.

After a long silence the first sound that pierced the air was Constantine’s laughter. Kieu My just looked after Fatou. She could feel Finn and Ismail’s eyes closing in on her, but she only had eyes for the girl, trying to make her turn around with a mere look. Shit. “Wow, who does she think she is huh? Delusional chick actually thought you were into her? Crazy.” And yeah, that was it. She tore her gaze from Fatou and instead glared at Constantin, “grow the fuck up” she spat, and then she left. She had no more tolerance for him that day.

Or the day after, or the next one. Turns out her tolerance for Constantin’s bullshit just straight up left the building and never come back. Which is why his constant effort to get her attention in this class was just about to make her scream. She wasn’t pulled out of her thinking before she heard the teacher calling out Fatou’s name.

“-Fatou, what about the topic ‘planetary orbit’ for you? Together with…”

She looked around, no one was eager to volunteer. She looked at Fatou who looked just about done with this class. What if Kieu My just… before she knows it her hand is up in the air and the teacher notices straight away, no going back now. “Kieu My!” She summons enough courage to take a look behind her, at Fatou, but looks down straight away when she sees that she’s already staring back. Her face heats up and she tries her hardest to look unbothered. Crap, why did she do that? Did she just force a person that didn’t want anything to do with her into a group project? She internally facepalms.

“Kieu My, what the fuck, you know I suck at psychics, we agreed to team up!” Constantin was aggressively whispering at her from her right side. Kieu My rolled her eyes, “you agreed to team up, maybe you can do your own work for once.” She knew she’d never hear the end of this, but right now, she didn’t care.

When the class is over, she doesn’t know what to do with herself. Should she bolt as soon as possible or stay and try to talk to Fatou? Should she wait for Fatou to come to her? She starts packing her bag as slow as possible, praying that Fatou will come and talk to her, instead of vise versa. She does. “What was that?”

Kieu My looks up, stricken with the sternness of her voice. She didn’t know what it was she expected, but confrontation wasn’t something she had prepared herself for. Looking at Fatou, Kieu My can’t help but admire how beautiful she is, even when she looks down on her, figurately and literally, and at the moment she does both. Kieu My understands why she’s mad, but Kieu My will fix this. She’s determent to.

Realizing she spent way too much time looking at Fatou’s lips, she panics. What did she ask again? “uhm …” Oh yeah, she asked why. Why is it that every time she exchanges words with Fatou, her brain seems to malfunction? Also how does she say that she wants to spend every single minute out of her day with Fatou, without sounding like a creep?

“I thought I’m quite good in physics, and you’re rather not, so …” She curses herself. Maybe it would’ve been better to sound like a creep. Fatou rolls her eyes, Kieu My wants to roll out of this universe.

As soon as the words tumbled out of her mouth, she wished she could take them back, this was no way to win over the girl she had continuously let down while pining for from afar. Kieu My knew that Fatou had been struggling in this class, the girl always had her attention, but not only was her comment making it blatantly obvious that she was watching her like a creep, but it also clearly struck a chord.

“What do you want?”

Kieu My just looked at her, wishing it was obvious to Fatou. Wishing it was obvious to herself. What did she want? She wanted for this to be easy, she wanted for her friends to understand her better, for them to be less assholes, she wanted for Fatou to not look at her this way, as if she was the worst kind of person. But then again, maybe she was.

“I want to help you” and she does. She wants to help Fatou with anything she needs, or anything she doesn’t need. She just wants to be near her.

“Why can’t you just say what you really want for once?” Now she just looks frustrated, and Kieu My can’t even blame her. Fatou looks at her, but Kieu My can’t look her in the eyes. The teacher eventually ends their conversation and Kieu My is once again stuck watching her walk away. But it was fine, she would text Fatou later, they would meet up for the project and she would get to explain herself. Everything would be fine.

---

Everything was not fine. It had been 23 hours since Kieu My texted Fatou, and there was no sign of any type of answer from her. Lying in bed, Kieu My threw a pillow over her head and screamed. She deserved this, she knows that, but it doesn’t make the situation any better. She threw the pillow over to the end of her bed and looked at the unanswered messages she already sent, they were simple, she asked if Fatou had unmatched her on tinder (which totally was a rhetorical question, she knew she had. Damn cat gif) and apologized for hijacking her project. Or… apologize maybe isn’t the right word, shit. Maybe she should’ve apologized first. Why is this so hard?

She had already sent four messages, she can’t send any more right? It would look too desperate. Fingers hovering over the keyboard she came to a realization; she was that desperate. So she tries again, this time asking a question, hoping that would make it easier to answer. - Just wanted to ask how we're going to do this physics project - When do you want to meet? Maybe on Friday?

The texts all go unanswered. Sitting at school with Ismail, she can’t help but check WhatsApp. Every damn minute. Maybe she lost her phone? No, that’s not right, Kieu My has religiously been checking her insta, her phone is clearly working. Maybe she just hasn’t had the time to check? Maybe her notifications are off? Maybe she just doesn’t want anything to do with her… At this point she’s just frustrated with herself; how did she get to this point? She hoped this wasn’t what Fatou was feeling when Kieu My had let her messages go unanswered while stressing over what to do.

Ismail keeps pointing their phone in her face, laughing at a joke she’s not yet in on. After a while she gets annoyed. Maybe it’s a combination of lack of sleep, not being able to stop thinking about the girl that is currently ghosting her and last, but not least, Ismail not being able to stop pushing their phone up her face. She snaps.

“Ismail, what the fuck.”

Their smile drops and they lay their phone on the table. “Well, someone’s in a mood.” Rolling her eyes, Kieu My looks at her phone again. She can feel Ismail’s eyes on her. She looks up from her phone to locks eyes with them, now entering a staring contest as Ismail tries to work out what’s up with her. It takes minutes before Ismail opens their mouth again.

“Is this about Fatou?”

This surprises her, she starts blinking, seemingly losing the contest. “What?” was she that obvious? No… She hasn’t talked about Fatou to any of her friends, not even Zoe, how could any of them know? None of them had any reason to. All they knew was that they kissed on New Year’s, and she dismissed that in front of all of them, in front of Fatou herself. That’s literally the reason she’s stuck in this situation in the first place. She’d been so careful. What did she do wrong? Ismail smiles.

“You know, I always thought you were hard to read regarding your crushes, because you never like, looked longingly at anyone. You never stressed about any of the guys you talked to, and you always looked so at ease with them, bored, but at ease.”

Kieu My looked down at her phone, trying to find something to say, but Ismail beat her to it, “you’ve zooned out so much lately, and do you know what the common factor is every single time? It’s Fatou. You’re always looking in her direction. Every single time. You even smile a little.”

She looks up at Ismail, they’ve really noticed all that?

“You long for Fatou, Kieu My.”

She was at a loss for words. There was no use in denying it, Ismail looked to have her all figured out. She felt exposed, uncomfortable. They didn’t really talk about stuff like that, any of them. Not Zoe, not Finn, and certainly not Constantin. What made Ismail start now? Should she just brush it off?

“Also, the other day when she called you out in the schoolyard you looked like a kicked puppy, honestly it was devastating.” This took her out of her trance, she laughed, and Ismail laughed with her. “God, I really screwed that up.” Ismail looked at her with sympathy, something they rarely show. “What happened?” they asked, and so Kieu My went on to tell someone about Fatou for the first time. She felt liberated for once, and Ismail confirmed a theory Kieu My had long contemplated; that she had royally fucked up.

---

Later that day she decided to text Fatou yet again. What was it that Fatou asked her again? What she really wants? Kieu My closed her eyes and debated whether this was a good idea or not. Summoning the courage, she sent off two texts, but the most important and honest one being,

“Somehow I have to think about you all the time.”

That’s the truth. No matter how hard Kieu My tries, she can’t get Fatou out of her head. That’s the truth she had spent so long trying to avoid. This was the last message she would send she decided. If Fatou didn’t want to hear from her anymore, she wouldn’t push. She would ask the teacher for a new subject partner and she’d bother Fatou no more. That’s the least she could do.

---

The next day she didn’t see a trace of Fatou, which in Kieu My’s mind was good, she wasn’t sure if she could handle public confrontation again. It would be better if they were somewhere alone, somewhere they could talk about everything, away from school. Yeah, maybe she was a little anxious, but confessing to the girl of your dreams could do that to you. The thought of being rejected after being vulnerable could do that to you.

“Hey, Stranger!” Zoe raced from behind her, making Kieu My jump. “God, Zoe! You scared me!” Zoe just looked at her knowingly, “stuck in your head again, huh?”. Kieu My knew that Zoe knew that something was up with her, and she also knew that it was really starting to unnerve the girl. She had kept pestering her about it, but Kieu My just brushed it off every time, it seemed she did that a lot.

They walked together towards the school, the silence between them was strangling her. After talking with Ismail yesterday, she’d tried to figure out the best way to tell Zoe too, after opening up she realized that not talking about her feelings was actually taking a toll on her. Zoe was her best friend; she really should’ve told her a long time ago. Kieu My stopped walking.

“I kissed Fatou!”

Her outburst made Zoe stop too and look back at her. She smiled her usual smile, “yes I know, Constantin told me about your ‘stupid New Year’s kiss’” she brushed it off. Zoe didn’t get it. Kieu My tried to find the best way to phrase it.

“No, you don’t understand, I like kissed her-kissed her. Like I didn’t feel like doing anything else. I-” she closed her eyes, not sure of what Zoe’s reaction would be, “-it wasn’t just a stupid kiss, I really like her, and I’ve liked her for a while,” she opened her eyes to look anywhere but at Zoe. “I think about her all the time, it’s exhausting, and it’s so STUPID, because I fucked up and now, she doesn’t want anything to do with me.” Her eyes were getting wet, but no tears were spilling. “And… and I was scared to tell you, because… I don’t know, because I haven’t really felt this about anyone before, and I don’t like to talk about my feelings!” her words were all messed up and rolling out in one go, she wasn’t sure if she was even making sense at this point.

She finally looked at Zoe. The girl was grinning, so bright as to compete with the sun. She stretched out her arms as if she were to hug her and squealed, “Q! you have a crush!” Kieu My wasn’t sure what reaction she expected, but Zoe’s excitement was catching her off guard. She welcomed the hug though. She needed that. “It doesn’t matter, she won’t really talk to me, and I can’t blame her.” Zoe pulled away and scoffed, “girlie! Honestly, don’t even sweat it, I’m here now! C’mon, catch me up on everything!” So she did, and she felt much better.

Kieu My hung out with Zoe the rest of the day, feeling better every second. Even though Zoe kept telling her how bad she was at flirting, the smile never left her face. Kieu My felt content now, if Fatou decided to give her a second chance there would be nothing holding her back. Except maybe her flirting and overall hopelessness with girls.

Kieu My didn’t even notice the message on her phone until she got home.

It was from Fatou.

“Tomorrow half past three at my place”

Kieu My let out the biggest breath, and smiled.

#this is v late i know skdjfkwjfwf #have mercy #kieutou #kieu my vu #fatou jallow #druck #druck fic #fanfic