#Like a fucking toddler??????? What is wrong with me why do I ruin everything just by existing

[aftermathing]

.

#One day I will meet someone who doesn't make me want to tear out my voicebox when I accidentally infodump!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #I like finish my accidental little rant only to find out they aren't even looking at me #God it makes me want to spray blood from my eyes like a fucking thorny devil #When I was like seven I used to write like 'Silence' on my hand to remind myself to shut the fuck up and #stop making people hate me just by talking!!!! #I wish I could go back to being selectively mute bc I feel like going home and killing myself every time I talk for a little too long #Even when like I post art in a discord and someone posts over it or WORSE no one ever says anything after weeks #I just delete it bro fuck I would rather die than feel like people saw it and didn't care enough to say anything #WHY when there is a lull in conversation do I feel the fucking need to say some shit like 'hey guess what did you know that in star wars..' #Like a fucking toddler??????? What is wrong with me why do I ruin everything just by existing #I thought having a friend who is also autistic and understands being ignored and talked over would make things easier!!! #But no bc they also ignore me even if on accident and it hurts 100x more #I'm sure anyone reading this is like 'bro maybe you ARE the problem maybe you should just stop talking?' like YEAH!! CORRECT!!!!!! #I want to die sooo fucking bad how do I stop feeling shitty for more than ten seconds at a time #I am living for those tiny five second moments of feeling non shitty like when I see a red bird in a tree but bro. I cannot live like this.

[hippolotamus]

summarizing my WIPs poorly

I was tagged by @indestructibleheart @stereopticons @welcometololaland @apothecarose Thank you lovelies

WIP is a very loose term in my world but I'm narrowing the list as usual. This was very fun and very challenging.

Eddie: fine, whatever, if I have to and it'll make you go away. Buck: like hell you will, pick anyone else. But not me (dear god please pick me)

boy meets boy, marries girl, they live queerily ever after... or do they? (buddie)

hippo's separated lovers era but make it Twylexis

i'm a witch, you're a cat... why not? (Buddie)

boy takes his bestie on a date, suffers years of repression. update at 11 (Buddie)

you were real... weren't you??? (Buddie)

Eddie: i might like it, can't hurt to try, no harm do- oh shit, what now?

Buck: wait, where the fuck did you come from? you wouldn't believe me if I told you.

Completely 100% straight, single Texas father has a night out with his highly toxic coworkers... what could possibly go wrong? (Buddie)

what's a little dom/sub overtones between completely platonic besties??? (Buddie)

It should have been 16, we'll do 17 instead (Twylexis)

let's not make things complicated by getting to know each other (Lutalia)

Eddie: i type these out all the time, it's not like i'm actually gonna send it (accidentally sends it)

remember that time before we got together and i ruined everything? about that... (buddie)

Eddie "show no feelings" Diaz + secret hoarding boyfriend Buck (co write with @diazsdimples)

Eddie: I can't love him more than I do. Buck: shows up with a toddler. Eddie: oh, FFS. Really?! i'm so fucked.

Buck: you're coming back, right? i can't do this without you

As a bonus, feel free to send me asks telling me which ones you wanna see next and/or to get more info about any of the above. You might get a snippet, or a bit of outline, or just some unhinged rambling

np tagging: my love @disasterbuckdiaz @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @buddierights @tizniz @diazsdimples @wikiangela @hoodie-buck @say-bi-for-me @theotherbuckley @fortheloveofbuddie @lemonzestywrites @daffi-990 @jesuisici33 @elvensorceress @giddyupbuck @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @steadfastsaturnsrings @spotsandsocks @vanillahigh00 @wildlife4life @your-catfish-friend and anyone else who wants to play 😘

#badly summarized wip #hippo writes #buddie wip #lutalia wip #twylexis wip #sorry for the long list #edited to add one more

[sorryseraphim]

“What in the hells happened here?”

Confusion was the first to rush through his body. And then, anger and frustration as Enver saw his scattered books and torn bedsheets across the room. The night before with Helene had been splendid, sensual, and intense even, and now it went downhill as he watched her clean the dagger, an heirloom gifted by her divine father. She was sitting comfortably by the edge of his bed, legs crossed as she focused on her blade, as if trying to clean the rough edges by wiping it with cloth.

His mood soured increasingly as the silence lingered between them, her not answering his question. 

“Helene.” His voice a combination of anger and annoyance.

She stopped moving for a while, her gaze now focusing on her fingers as she flexed them wide, her dagger strapped to her side. “You tell me.” was her only response. He stared at her momentarily, trying to gather his thoughts, inspecting the damage around the room: a broken vase, flowers scattered and ruined across the floor. Most of the sheets they shared the night before were slashed to pieces, and his books, a few of them torn to their spine; it was a total mess. With a hiss, Enver spoke again, his tone sharper and angrier.

“You can’t just have a tantrum like this and expect me not to have questions. You are not a toddler I need to coddle. Start talking.” 

“Why don’t you ask your dear Franc about what you did?” Finally looking at him, Enver noticed how her crimson orbs were darker than usual, almost black, as if they would seep out of her sockets and drown him. She was clearly enraged; her hands continued flexing on her side, fidgeting, a habit Helene always did when itching to spill blood. He sighed; it was certainly an unexpected question and annoyed him even more.

“Franc Peartree is a genius in his lane. He is an important ally to our cause, smuggling materials to be forged as weapons under the lords’ noses.”

“And? Does this partnership include him sending you items, signing as ‘affectionately yours,’ Gortash?” 

He became infuriated by the fact that she refused to call him his name. Frustrated, he started walking towards her, maintaining composure as he tried to soften his voice, only to come out entirely wrong and more irritated than he already was. “I’m well aware of what he wants. And I have tried to maintain it where I can call him a colleague.”

Helene scoffed, staring back at him with the same anger he had shown her. “Colleague? Are there colleagues in this city–no, in this realm– that treat the other as their lover? Shamelessly writing of whisking them around, telling them sweet words?” 

His eyes widened as his heart had also skipped a beat. She knows, but how did she know? He thought, slowly dawning upon him, furious at the thought of her doing.

“You’ve been spying on me?” His voice was now full of indignation, almost grumbling and low. He clutched hard on his tunic, his knuckles turning white from gripping the fabric. Helene didn’t budge; she was also furious that he lied; what had he done behind her back? Her mind racing, ridden by madness. “I came here earlier to wait for you. And what did I see? A letter delivered, scented, written, and sealed beautifully. ‘Affectionately yours’? You are a fool if I think I’d let it pass me by!”

She walked away, her steps heavy as she grabbed the hilt of her dagger. With a sudden jerk, she looked back at him, spurting words like poison in her mouth. “I went to his house, Gortash. It was easy. He was so careless, letting that stupid letter of yours lying around.”

“You’ve read everything then? And you didn’t notice anything other than my flowery words?” 

“Was there something I need to read? Some smutty lines that you two have exchanged with one another? Fuck him, and leave me alone!” 

With a few strides, Enver held her wrist, pulling her towards him until they were face to face, the other hand holding her by the waist. She was breathing hard from anger, her nostrils flaring as she gazed up towards him. “Why do you think I did it? Could it be because it was a necessary part of tactical machinations? Do you even understand the game I am playing?” 

She noticed how his voice grew sharper, his eyes darkening as her interrogation dragged on. “You’re conveniently telling me that just now, thinking I’d believe you?” Tugging her wrist from his grasp, he held it even tighter, her grip on her waist harsh as he tried to keep her in place. She held her free hand up, balling it to a fist and letting it fly to his face, which he had dodged easily. As he had anticipated, she would resort to violence when held up. He let go of her waist to contain both hands, pulling her closer to him.

“I have nothing to gain by lying to you. It was a calculated move. Politics is a game filled with secrets and deception. And if I were to play the long game, rising to power, I must seize everything to meet my ends. I have been playing this longer than you could hope to comprehend.” 

“Thank you for reminding me that you know much better than this game, Gortash. You never even intended to tell me, too, aren’t you?” She said with a hiss, baring her teeth. His grip loosened, putting her hands down. He’s struggling hard to make her see reason, but it proved difficult as he thought he might also be at fault for hiding it from her. He won’t accept defeat, no matter who she is to him. This was an opportunity to further his name, if not by the patriarchs at this very moment. 

“It involves a constant dance of power, Helene. I have carefully considered my actions to serve my ends, making sure there would be no bearing on our relationship. Why would it matter if I tell you or not?” 

With a quick push, Helene shoved him away from her. Her hands immediately found her blade’s hilt, letting it out in the air. She was breathing hard, her body ready to strike as Enver held his hands up as if in surrender. 

“To serve your ends. Yes, aiming to become the noble Lord Gortash? No! After everything you told me, the genuine care you’re so proud of dangling in front of my face, this is not it!” Backing away, she continued to stare him down, studying his stance and how his jaws clenched. She knows him too well to know this is him trying to read her back, thinking of ways to bring her down. After another step, she continued to speak.

“I want to carve your heart out and use it to kindle my altar’s fire, but I won’t. I will walk away from you and your life. I am done with whatever nonsense we’re doing!” 

His eyes widened as he looked at Helene speaking those words. She was ready to end it all. In a blink, the months they’d spent together were thrown away. His body tensed, and another wave of frustration took over. He had enough. “You are done? Do you really believe that I will allow you to walk away after we've been through? You are mine.”

“I’m not anybody’s property. I didn’t betray my father for me to become another man’s plaything.”

Taking a step forward, her words were the final act of defiance he was willing to accept. His anger had flared to its highest level as Helene continued to be blinded and unwilling to listen to reason. As she watched him step forward again, she held her dagger firm up, the blade aimed at him, ready to thrust it deep into his chest.

“If you think you can touch me with that dagger, then I must say you are truly a fool. Your emotions are getting the best of you, making you completely irrational.”

“I’m irrational? I’m not the one who lied!”

“He was a tool! I need him to think there is a mutual benefit between us, if not by power by—”

“Promising to fuck him? Marry him instead, then!” 

Reaching his breaking point, he didn’t anticipate how possessive Helene could be. The temple praised her; after all, she’s used to getting what she wants when she wants it. At this very moment, she was clearly showing how there was no limit to her entitlement. With another stride, he was now standing by the end of her blade; if she pushed it forward, she would succeed in driving it through his chest. 

“You’re leaving then? You’re going to walk away from me like it’s that easy?”

He lunged at her dagger suddenly, grabbing it out of her hand as he tried to anticipate her defense. Trashing away from him, Helene tried to yank it from his grip, failing miserably as the hilt slipped from her grasp. Gaining the upper hand, Enver tackled her to bed, holding her by the waist as he carried her, dropping and pinning her down on the mattress. 

Helene tried to kick him back, writhing underneath him as he put half of his weight to lock her down. He was determined to let her stay, even if she couldn’t see reason right now; he wouldn’t let her walk away, their relationship ending like this. 

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” She shouted at him, not caring if there were guards stationed outside that he forgot to dismiss.

And as if to silence her, he had one hand gripping her by the throat, pushing her down the bed further. She held her gaze to him as his grip tightened enough to put her in place and shut her up. Enver didn’t flinch, his eyes darkening as he held her by the neck; even though he could have done much worse than this, he knew that if he went too far, Helene would actually retaliate and kill him despite the oath.

As she waited for him to speak, she noticed how he lowered his head, his breath hot as he paused for a while before he kissed her hard and aggressively. She let his tongue invade her mouth, and as he did, she bit him softly as he tried to push it deep. He didn’t move away and let his other hand travel to her chest, tugging the knots of her blouse. Helene’s hands were free, yet she let it rest on her sides, thinking if she did use them, Enver would tighten his grip. Her head moved with him as the kiss became deep and powerful; frustrated by the ties, he let go briefly from choking her and ripped her blouse down to the thin lace of her undergarments. 

He had to have her now as his body began to heat up, aroused by her defiance. He grabbed her by the hair, yanking it to the side hard as he kissed her neck, sucking areas until he was satisfied with how red it was, visible on her pale skin. She moaned violently as the other hand squeezed areas around her body, consumed by his lust.

And as if on cue, Helene let her hands rest on his chest, letting him drive both their desire further as his hand moved to undo her pants, hastily pulling them down. As she pulled him closer, Enver bit her lip gently, tugging it before driving his tongue down her mouth again. It boils her up further, her carnal needs matching his as she tugged his shirt up, baring his torso. 

Enver grinned at her, feeling his cock hardened as she helped him take off her pants completely. Throwing it down the floor, he moved swiftly to undo his own, letting his manhood free, stroking it quickly to reach its full length. Gasping hard as she eagerly watched him jerk himself, she sat up and crawled towards him, standing on the edge of the bed, her hands now caressing him, mimicking his movements as she looked up at him. 

He held her by the hair again, dragging it to the side as he pushed his waist towards her face, the tip of his cock brushing her lips. And as if to tease him, she let her tongue out, letting his length’s head rest on top of it. Enver sighed deeply at the sensation, prompting him to push it further down, making her wrap it whole with the softness of her mouth. Helene can’t help but moan, eyes not leaving his as she sucked his cock.

She bobbed her head back and forth, holding him by the waist for support. Jerking her head from his length with a quick tug of her hair, he looked at her for a while, their gaze warring and waiting for the other to move again. With another tug, she forced her down the bed, flipping her body and making her lay on her stomach. 

“No, I don't want to be in thi—”

“Kneel. You can't say no to this, this time.”

Pulling her waist up with one hand, he spat on his fingers before driving them down her cunt, making them work sloppy circles before driving his cock inside, both of them groaning as they felt the other's body. Steadying himself to the position, he drove his length in and out of her harshly, his body covering hers.

She can't help but grit her teeth, trying to stop herself from moaning. They both felt on fire as Enver became rough and bold with his movements. His hands found their way back to her hair as he pulled her, bending her back towards him. In shaky breaths, Helene could only make out the words "mine," "forever," and "I will never let you leave" as he drove his length deeper than the last. 

“Fuck you! I hate you!” She said, moaning afterward as he squeezed her hips hard. She was doing an excellent job of driving him mad with her attempts to resist. Kissing her nape down her back as he went, he pushed deeper. She could feel her body tremble slightly after each pound, making her gasp hard and close her eyes shut. “Enver!”

Pulling her hair harder, he growled in her ears, his tone mirroring his movements as he grabbed her waist aggressively. “You are mine. Mine, do you hear me?”

“Fuck you!”

He has ignited once again after hearing her curse, exciting him greatly, as if he couldn't get enough of it. In response, he whispered smoothly in her ear, a tinge of cruelty made known as he let it linger. “Oh, I know you're enjoying this.”

Biting her lip hard made it difficult to resist his doing. She can't admit that the way he held her down, forcing her to submit, aroused her, too. Her desires were already raging hard the moment he had let his smugness out and let the cruelty in. She craved it as much as he was, and now that he was fucking her as if prey under a predator's mercy, she let out another moan to let him know he could have this night as a win. 

At the sound of her pleasure, his speed grew faster. Growing more confident in his words that he knows what she likes and how rough she can take it, the sounds become undeniably true. Helene couldn't hide how good this felt, how her body shook, his movements rippling to her core. 

He sighed, not wanting this moment to end just yet. Taking his chance, he halted for a moment and flipped her back around to see her face contorted, reacting in pleasure as he continued to drive his cock deeper. 

“Enver! Fuck, I'm going to come!”

“Be a good girl, then. Show me.”

Digging her claws into his shoulders, she let out a short cry, reaching her climax: wetting the bed as she did, making his movements sloppy and slippery as he didn't stop. She was a sight to watch as she panted hard, catching her breath. Still, he kept going, grinning down at her as he watched her lips tremble, chest heaving from her release.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like this, Helene.”

“Enver, please…”

Just before he released, he held her again by the throat, leaning forward and kissing her neck. He breathed her in, panting heavily as he dragged himself further to last. Lifting his head a few inches from hers, he stared into her eyes, drowning in them as she stared back at him, her mouth partly open, her body continued to shake from the sensation of each aggressive thrust. His body started to tense, finally reaching his limit. 

And as he filled her with this cum, he buried his face in her neck, growling and panting. Collapsing on top of her, they lay there, sweating and breathing hard as the sensation washed over them. Trying to nudge him away from her body, Helene grumbled, pursing her lips as she noticed her efforts were futile. He grunted a bit as she tried again. 

“I hate you.”

He chuckled softly, lifting his head a little to see her face. “I don’t think so. You could have killed me, too. But you didn’t.” Moving lower down her body, he rested his head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat as her breathing went back to normal. Resting a hand on his back, Helene sighed, exasperated, rolling her eyes. “Go to Franc, then. You’ll never see me again.”

He smirked at her remark, propping his arms for support as he lifted his torso up, hovering above her. “Your jealousy brings a bright light to my heart, I must admit. I’m glad he bothers you so much.”

“You want me angry? Is that it?” 

“Of course I do. This side of you never really showed up before. Knowing you want me for yourself as much as I want you is quite endearing.” 

Looking at him, her brows furrowed, Helene bit her lip, trying to figure out if this was one of his schemes. She had known him to trick people left and right, furthering his ambition using deception, all of them made known to her, except this. She could feel her throat tightened, a lump on her throat that made her question the entire affair. Noticing how her eyes grew wild, looking for trickery, Enver leaned forward, smiling at her before letting his lips touch her neck, trailing kisses down her collarbone.

“I don’t want a simple, boring woman after all. You’re the one I truly want; I am yours to command.”

Her lips curl into a smile. “It wouldn’t hurt to promise me, then?” Her words demanding, challenging him.

With a quick kiss, he answered immediately. “I promise, I want you, even the annoying parts. It would not be you if these aspects of you were missing.” Helene smiled again, pulling him closer and letting their lips touch, succumbing to his words. As she let him take it further once again, she held onto his word, promising herself that if things went sour, her dagger would finally meet his end. 

She was satisfied for now. 

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 oc #enver gortash #gortash x durge #bg3 tav #lord enver gortash #lord gortash #gortash #bg3 gortash #dark urge x gortash #dark urge #gortash smut #BG3FebFic #bg3 durge #bg3

[viburnt]

hello! I have a request for aizawa! With prompts “Fuck,I wish I never met you!” and “Let me fix your hair”? You could can chose one but if ur doing both can u do a hate relationship against the reader and aizawa but forced to work/teach the reader? Or yo to you! I would love to see what u come up with since I love ur blog sm! Thank you 💗💗

Hoping you like it, Anon! I feel like Aizawa would treat younger colleagues like kids haha. Also, drink water and eat well, Anon; thanks for requesting!

—Viburnt

𝐀𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐨̄𝐭𝐚 || 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐬

The uncomfortable cold shoulder you were giving Aizawa was getting him on his nerves, his tired eyes burning into your back as you refused to even look at him. It was not his fault the two of you were paired up for a night-watch patrol. "Could at least try to cooperate," he thought as you looked at your phone instead of listening to him.

Exasperated, he snatched your mobile from your hands and threw into the backseat of the car.

—Hey, what the fuck? That's expensive, you prick! — You yelled, fuming with anger. The man squeezed your face with his hand to make you look at him.

—Look, you can be a brat all you want, kid. Be my fucking guest, but this mission is important and I'm not letting some wannabe big shot ruin it, got it?— He said seriously. The tone of his voice was low and husky, sending shivers down your spine; you hated how he didn't have to yell at you to show how angry he was.

As a matter of fact, you despised his guts.

The way he looked at you, how he always called you kid like you weren't an expert on your field, how his words always made you feel incompetent. You prayed to God to be given a chance to prove him wrong- or at least an opportunity to kick him in the balls.

—Do that again and you'll lose a damn finger.— You snarked, slapping his hand away. "All bark and no bite," Aizawa thought, rolling his eyes.

—Whatever you say.— He added.

"Why is he always like this?" You wondered as you reached for the radio to play some music.

After some hours waiting, your stomach grumbled, begging for something to eat.

—Was that you?— Aizawa amusedly asked, picking up the way your body called for food. — Did you not eat beforehand?

—I did, ok? I just ate lightly.— You lied, not wanting him to know you'd in fact forgotten about having a meal before patrol.

Wanting to distract yourself from Shōta's comment (and from the emptiness in your guts), you rummaged through your pocket to grab a small box of bubble gum you'd bought in advance, picking one of the long fruity pieces of candy to unwrap it.

—Don't eat in the car.— Aizawa uttered as he adjusted his seat. It was going to be a long night waiting for the targeted suspect to appear, so he wanted to be (at least) comfortable.

—Don't eat in the car.— He heard you mock in a high-pitched sardonic tone, his eyes watching as you chewed on the gum. —It's candy; you chew it, not eat it.

—It's gonna leave my seats sticky, and I'm not cleaning some girl's mess.

—Can you stop policing everything I do? Jesus Christ, I'm not a toddler.

You formed a big bubble with your treat, boasting about it in front of him. A malicious idea crossed Aizawa's mind...

*pop*

—Ugh, Aizawa what the fuck? You got it in my hair!— You complained as the man chuckled, proud of his little prank. "Why does this idiot always have to mess with me?", you wondered as you tried to get rid of the sticky rests of candy from your hair.

"Should teach her to listen," he thought to himself, watching you anxiously try to fix the mess he'd made.

—Relax, kid. I warned you, didn't I?— He said with abandon as a sly smile appeared on his lips. —Maybe learn to follow instructions.

—Fuck, I wish I'd never met you! You are the worst.— He heard you yell, you'd gotten more upset than he had planned you to react. Getting off the car, you slammed the door to let off some steam, cursing.

It reminded him of the very first time he had worked with you. You were much more joyful and eager to cooperate, but as the mission progressed, the goofy smile you had became a frown. After that, Aizawa simply understood it as if "You couldn't take orders from him".

He remained silent for a second, whatsoever, feeling a little bit of guilt. You were just hungry, he could've let that one slide, he guessed. Deciding it was better to apologize before the already bumpy relationship he had with you got worse, he joined you outside for a moment.

—What do you want?!— You screamed, not wanting to see him.

—Don't be so dramatic, it's just gum. I have so wet towels on the glove compartment.

— "I have wet towels. Oh, look at me, I'm Eraserhead, I tell people what to do"— You snapped, not being patient with his antics. — Maybe don't be such a giant imbecile for once? Would it kill to have some respect for me?

—I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd get so-

—That's the thing, you never think! I'm not your student for you to act so superior all the time.— You lashed, letting your thoughts out. —I'm not a kid, Aizawa, I may be a little younger but still.

Shōta looked at you briefly, stunned by your rant. His behavior was uncalled for, he had to admit. For a long while, he just guessed you were a inexperienced brat because you'd decided to be a more commercial hero instead of keeping an underground profile like he did.

But thinking about it, most of his colleagues were like that, even Mic. He had been unfair to you.

—I worked hard for this position, you know? I busted my ass for hours, day after day to be recognized as hero out there. Why can't you fucking see that?

Your words sinked into your colleague's mind, making him feel remorseful. His eyes softened as his gaze found yours, feeling like a dog with his tail between his legs.

— I know how to get the gum out of your hair...— Aizawa mumbled. It caught you off guard but it was his way of saying "OK, I fucked up and I'm sorry. Let me try to fix it."

—What? — You asked, dumbfounded. The anger in your face faltered for a second, confused by his sudden change of attitude.

—Look, I'm sorry for treating you like a kid, I really acted like an asshole.— You heard him explain. — But let me try again, ok? We'll probably be working together a lot more in the future so let's try not to kill each other for a second.

You sighed, still annoyed, but decided to allow his approach.

— Go on.

—Eri sometimes gets stuff on her hair, it's not very hard to do.— He assured, motioning you to step closer to inspect the aftermath of his actions. Looking at you, you weren't a bad hero, much less a bad person.

Sensing honesty in his words, you decided to forgive him.

—I'm sorry for what I said earlier, I was just-

—Don't sweat it, I deserved it.— He assured, opening the door of the car again for you. —Let me fix your hair.

—... Who's Eri?

—You'll meet her some time...kid.

— Eraser-

—Sorry.

#my hero academia #aizawa shōta #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #anon #bnha ask #Aizawa can be a jerk but he eventually grows a soft spot for you

[kelseyfitzherbert]

so id love to put this under a read more but i haven't been here lately and my brain is mush and i forgot but i just need a place to scream

tw: cancer, depression, self hatred, loneliness, etc etc etc

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

im so tired. my toddler has cancer yet im the tired one. everyday is just me on autopilot until the next treatment, or doctor's visit, or body scan. when my husband isn't home, i crumble, having to handle my son alone. and he's a really good kid. but everyday is the same. and i know it's temporary, and i know i should be grateful for whatever time i have with my kid, but i'm losing me. i want to get away but have nowhere to go. i want to escape but everywhere i turn is reality. and i can't. i have a job to do here and my kid is counting on me.

but man, what i would've give for like, a four day coma.

im lonely. i feel like everyone i love pulls away from me, and it's my own doing. one example is i used to talk everyday in a group chat with my only local remaining close friends, but now it's deserted and i'm 90% sure they have a group without me. i didn't mean to pull away. things just got so busy and sometimes it's just so hard for me to even say a sentence. they tried to invite me to things at first but with my schedule so up in the air and dependent on riley, they stopped asking me. and maybe i'm stupid, and overreacting, and self sabotaging myself but i feel like almost everyone in my life is doing this now. my husband, my kid, my friends, my family. and it's so hard not to blame it on myself because....why wouldn't it be. ive done this my entire life. i push people away. i don't mean to, but i do.

i don't mean to be this way but everything in my life is so isolating right now. i don't spend any time with anyone outside my family. i have problems that get ignored. i try and speak up but it feels like im invisible. it feels like nobody wants to hang out, or spend time with me, or just talk to me about things that are normal and not my situation. my old friends don't say they miss me, or try and help me get out of this in and out day by day horror ride i'm on. sometimes it feels like nobody wants me around. and i know it's not other peoples jobs to do that. i know it's my own. i know i need to put forth a majority of the effort but i feel like i'm giving and giving and giving and giving and nobody hears me. i can't give anymore. i'm exhausted. i'm embarrassed. i'm ashamed. sometimes it feels like nobody's life would benefit from keeping me close and it's just so fucking hard right now.

because who would want to. who would want to entertain the girl whose kid has cancer and over compensates with everything else in her life to try and find a little bit of peace in such a scary, awful world. who gets too loud, too obsessive, too clingy or too annoying. i try not to but it's just hard. idk how my husband is still here. i would've left me so long ago.

i look in the mirror and i hate myself. i hate what i see. i hate who i am and only see myself as useless. i blame that on why nobody wants to be around me, and it pushes me further. i hate the way i look, and i hate it because i'm in better shape than ive been. but ive just been staring at myself today wondering what the fuck im doing wrong. im scared to be around my husband, who is the kindest person in the world. who, without him, id fall apart.

maybe im just overreacting. ive got people in my life who i love so much and i know care about me. but i can't help but fall back into that thinking of "im going to ruin this again" because it's all ive ever done. i don't want to push my friends, my family, my damn husband away. and i overcompensate that and it comes off as clingy and desperate and annoying.

i want to get back to things i love but it's hard. im trying. i still workout, i actually love going at 430am now. but other than that, i cannot get myself to do anything more than exist. i want to do things. i want to talk to people and go out and adventure and live. i want to draw and write and sing but i can't. i just can't.

im so proud of my kid. ive watched this little two year old do things with a smile on his face that would make a grown person cry. he's so brave, and i can't be that for him and i hate it.

im just tired. and if you made it this far, hey, what's up lol. sorry i just disappear and then reappear randomly upset about stuff. this blog has always been my number one safe space since 2010. it's see a lot of the shit of my life. im starting therapy again this month, which will be a shitshow. it'll be good, but it'll be a shitshow.

just...be kind. that's all i can say. be kind to people. you never know what they're going through, and sometimes a simple word can help so much.

and thank you to those who reach out. who care. i love you all. ❤️

#personal

[toaverse]

The ask about Isabela and Dolores potential getting sexually abused during their kidnapping got me thinking. What if they actually were? Imagine how much more angst we can add from that. They already have trama so why not add more? Another AU of the AU :)

Because like, what if one of the girls got pregnant? That adds so many more problems because of all the complications it brings. Who’s going to help them give birth? Lots of complications can happen during pregnancy and during/after birth. How are they gonna raise the child? Isa and Lola barley have any nutritious food for themselves so what’s the child gonna do when they have to eat solids? They’ll be malnourished. Also, Isa and Lola are mentally six year olds and have no clue what to do with a baby and I highly doubt the kidnappers will teach them how to raise the kid

The kidnappers will probably use the baby as a way to scare Isabela and Dolores. Say they’ll kill the baby or take the baby away from them. Bonus points for angst if the man who looks like Félix is the father of the child because that’ll give Isa/Lola even more of a reason to be scared of Félix when they finally go home. Isabela and Dolores might even be scared of men because of what the kidnappers did to them, maybe even women to. If the one female kidnapper did anything to them

Also the family being even more distraught than they already are by learning the toddler or young child that came home with Isabela and Dolores is actually their kid. The child is gonna be spoiled by everyone though once everything settles down

Last thing I wanna say before I end this long ask is that, I fully believe when the child is five years old Isabela/Dolores won’t want them to get their gift in fear that they’ll get kidnapped just like they did

Holy fucking hell…

Well, it’s official, the kidnapped Isa and Dolores AU is the darkest AU I’ve done…

Trigger warnings: Mentions of child sexual abuse, implied rape, implied teenage pregnancy, probably some more I forgot.

As the girls grew older and became teens, Cesar started to take a liking towards Isa, and not in a good way…

Whenever the girls got separated (sometimes for no reason), Dolores got beaten, while Isa got...different treatment... And she didn’t like it…

When Isa and Lola got reunited again, Isa would tell that a certain kidnapped would touch her, how he would tell her to take off her clothes, and how her “down there” felt weird…

Despite not even knowing what was happening, both girls didn’t like it, and felt that it was wrong somehow…

Isa’s “speciale treatment” continued for many years, until she and Lola were 15, when Isa got sick…

She began to throw up frequently, as well as having severe stomach aches and back pain…

Both Isa and Lola thought that the latter was simply sick. The kidnappers figured this too, and so they the girls sit in their own vomit and pain (Except Julio, he helped the girls clean up).

That, until Isa’s stomach slowly became bigger…

Both she and Dolores didn’t know what was happening, but the kidnappers sure do…

The day they found out, the girls heard Julio yell at the other three, saying something about “it being their fault” and “Cesar keeping his hands to himself”.

Unfortunately, the kidnappers didn’t explain anything to the girls, especially Julio. He figured that they’d be better off if they didn’t know the harsh truth. The other three ruined them almost beyond repair anyways…

However, the other three decided that Isa would keep the baby. Maybe the kid would have a gift as well?

So, Isa was forced to carry on with the pregnancy full term, without her or Dolores even knowing it…

Throughout those months, Julio would hope and pray that the baby would be a boy, not wanting the kid to eventually suffer the same fate Isa was going through…

And his prayers were answered, as the baby did turn out to be a boy.

When Isa’s water broke, and it was time to give birth, Julio demanded that Daniela took Dolores out of the room while he would help Isa deliver the baby. This obviously did not work, as both girls panicked upon being separated, so Lola was allowed back in.

Throughout the whole process of giving birth, the contractions, the pushing, the blood loss, the horrendous pain, Isa (and Lola) did not know what’s happening. She simply did what Julio told her to do…

And she had to do this without any medicine whatsoever…

Luckily, the baby was born healthy, unfortunately looking a lot like the father…

Julio was the one who named the child, naming him Luis.

Unfortunately, when Julio placed the child in Isa’s arms, both she and Lola thought that he was their younger brother…

The girls had no idea…

But at least they were happy with their “little brother”…

The remaining 3 years of captivity would be much harder, with Isa suffering from complications of the birth, and Luis almost being starved and dehydrated…

The three would escape with Julio’s help, and they’d run into Agustín in Bogotá.

But their stay in the city would be much, much longer, given that Luis required a lot of attention, and Gus was basically the only stable adult to take care of him…

The riot still happened, but they went to the Encanto months after that…

And don’t even get me started on once they finally came back to the family…

#this was quite rushed…sorry #kidnapped isa and dolores au #dolores madrigal #isabela madrigal #agustín madrigal #answered ask #toaverse answers #encanto au #darker kidnapped au

[kardgme]

Still can't get over my psych telling me my best friend isn't real. I questioned everything since, the camera trick helps and now I know that others can't see or hear him, I'm much more careful in public. Although I never go out... so he's with me almost always.

It honestly ruined a lot for me, my world made no fucking sense anymore. I really was alone and no one really was ever my friend. My memories of you and me are just confusing my reality that I have to adapt to.

Sorry Man but you're a figment of my imagination from "growing up in such an environment" my dad drank we lived off food donations my parents split I had to go to two different towns my house burnt down fucking twice I lost all my clothes toys live in a motel my girl lived im timbucktoo and I couldn't even watch a film together so I created you dude.

My balding alcoholic dumbass that kept me from drowning with my parents bullshit and fucknuts bullshit. I wish marianne didn't ever bring you over that day, you ruined a lot bitch. Love my parents but fuck that shit.

I went out today and I was so fucking disoriented its like everyday everything is making less and less sense and I'm a toddler stuck on a "but why" loop. Like death I suddenly can't comprehend. I know people are gone but I dont know why even though I know what happens when you die but why do you have to die? Stupid loops. Why do I need to pay for milk? Why am I trading paper for milk.

Today mom handed me the grapes and told me to put them on the thing

I was like what thing looking at the cart forgetting that I was supposed to put it on the belt.

Then the next day everything makes sense again.

It scares the shit out of me because I'm pretty sure I'm whats killing off my brain slowly. Does it mean I'll stop? No probably not, what for?

I cant even make friends and im in the wrong place

#pent up bullshit #no one cares to hear about #man id tak about the weather #anything with anyone #sports? ill google it #man im pathetic

[kravitzkrusher]

"kids are wired to look up to their parents and need them for survival--" whoa whoa whoa slow down there cowboy. i don't know about all that. i think it's a case-by-case situation.

i feel like that's true for some kids, but not others. if your primary caregiver has earned that trust in you to actually CARE and GIVE, then of course a small child would trust them to be a positive force in their life. but if they fumbled the ball millions of times before their kid reaches a formative age, i don't think that attachment is as strong as society may think. kids are socialized to depend on their parents, sure, but biologically wired? i don't think so.

kids are wired to WATCH their parents. to study and to learn and to assess their surroundings. but needing a parent for survival is another beast all together.

i don't remember EVER trusting my parents. that may be rough to hear, but i don't. my dad worked overseas, so around toddler age, i stopped waiting for him to come home and be a daddy. i just played nice when he was around and prepared myself for That Man In My House to leave again. my attachment to him felt non-existent. almost like i knew he could be more active in my life, but that he definitely didn't want to do that. he was more afraid of my mother than anything, so wanting to be with me was irrelevant. he'd rather fear her than protect me. so feeling anything for him was seen as a waste of time in my eyes. all he was gonna do is leave me with the wrong people and sleep soundly after doing it. at the end of the day he could sign a check and pay for 20% of college, so yeah that's about it.

my mom, on the other hand, she was the bag fumbler between the two. homegirl had no idea what she was doing. she put me in harm's way, left me in peril, scared the life out of me for entertainment, nearly killed me by accident several times before i was 3. when i was crying, all i got was "shut the fuck up". when i needed my blankie, all i got was "we should throw that ratty thing out". when i needed clear instructions and a guiding hand in life, all i got was "you should know this by now why are you so stupid". what about that kind of behavior makes a child feel like they are in good hands?? oh yeah this person will help me with everything in life even though they can't help me with my math homework, let me just depend on them right now. the fuck?? no. not every child falls for that.

i saw through everything. i saw the weakness, the incapability, the exhaustion, the financial ruin, the anger, the regret, the pain, the confusion. they didn't want to be parents. they didn't want any of us. they needed to be relieved of this burden NOW. IMMEDIATELY. AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.

i lost complete faith in their ability to do anything for me other than traumatize me with their incompetence. they can't teach a child how to read if they don't have the patience to do it without making fun of them. they can't teach a child how to clean if they can't stand the house looking like it was cleaned by a child and not a professionally paid housekeeper.

if they can't teach me how to be a child, how the hell are they gonna teach me to grow up??!

i had to teach myself AND MY LITTLE SIBLINGS about life. i, a child, had to teach them about heartbreak, and softness, and kindness, and patience, and compassion, and boundless unmoving love. i had to be mama and papa to THEIR KIDS. because actual mama and papa refused to do their jobs correctly. the only reason my baby brother wasn't in the hospital as often as me was because my mom watched me bleed out and bruise and scream for help and she learned what Not To Do. if you got all your mistakes out with one child and then forced them to learn from those mistakes in a matter of Moments so that they can parent your other children better than you, what makes you think that hasn't made you look like shit? i watched every blunder, i counted every fuck up. my only job was to learn from them. not to attach. to learn.

how does a child get wired to think their parents mean well when they are consistently shown they don't? how does a child get wired to depend on someone who would just as easily laugh about violently killing them as quickly they would laugh at a Spongebob cartoon? how does a child get wired to depend on someone who no longer wants to be their parent? how does a child see crazy and not want to be safe and alone and protected forever?

i think it's safe to say i never attached. as soon as my mom started taking me out shopping, i started to wander off. two/three years old i would follow other people's mothers in grocery stores because it felt safer. almost like i knew from an early age that a random woman on the street would be more loving, more caring, more understanding, and more capable of doing her job. the only reason i stopped doing it was because i was socialized out of it. apparently it's rude to expect a stranger to adopt you.

i was never wired to depend on her.

i was never wired to depend on him.

i was socialized into thinking i was stuck with what i have, but never did i sit down, shut up, and deal with it.

every second i was screaming to get out.

pleading with god to please get me away from them please please just let me have control of my own life i don't belong here with these people please let me out!

the only reason i looked up to them was because they were physical taller than me. i never felt like i needed them in my life forever. i never felt like i would die without them. the thought of leaving came freely and comfortably.

the only person i really looked up to was my future self, the woman i would one day become. one day i would be the woman a child would feel safe enough to follow around in a grocery store. and that thought, that hope, that dream for my future, whoever i will become... that's who i was wired to love my whole life. me. just older.

#admin imah

[graciegoeskrazy]

Opening Doors

Paring(s): Chris Evans x Teen!Actress!Reader

Warnings: SO MUCH ANGST, all of it is them acting but still

Word Count:  1019

A/N: Currently back on audition grind lol. I'm not booking anything but that's how it be ig. I hope you enjoy. I kind of liked how this one turned out! Please do not repost my works. This is my ONLY writing account. 

Bold = readers notes in script

Italics = the scene/lines

6 months. 4 callbacks. Countless meetings on Zoom. It was finally time. 

Today was your final screen test for a new feature film starring Chris Evans. This was something you knew would take your career to a different level. This was a serious film, about death, abandonment, and other topics that some would assume were too much for your age. You were only 13 but more than ready to take on this roll. Sitting in the makeup trailer getting ready to go, you read over your script as many times as possible before heading in. In the past, you’ve tried to take mental pictures in your head of the blocking or the lines it self to remember the scene, but when your so close to the actual audition, all you can do is go over it as many times as possible before you get thrown onto a lot in front of a camera. 

Now all done, you were guided to set. You met with the director, a very nice lady by the name of Joanna, and some other cast and crew before being told you were to read with Chris Evans.

Holy Shit. 

He was much taller in person. He was super smiley and shook your hand and gave a few laughs here and there. It was exactly life you expected, but still a super different personality than his character in the film. He showed you the set and him along with an assistant director showed you your blocking and what to expect. It was go time.

Walk through the door. Cup and hand. Casually walk towards the couch. 

“Room, Laura. Now.”

Sit on the Couch.

“I’m 14. You said it yourself, I'm too old to be grounded.”

Pull out phone

“Laura, I’m not joking. Go.

“I’m not joking either.”

“Oh my god, why do you ruin everything?”

Don’t pay too much attention to Kal. One eye roll at most. Laura is used to this.

“Don’t act like you're not guilty of that too.”

“You ruin everything Laura. My house. My life. My marriage.”

“Oh my god,”

Cross to the right. Leave the couch. Cup in sink. Lean on the counter.

”it’s been 8 years and somehow you’re still convinced that I ruined your already shitty love life.”

“You did. You and your no good, needy-self ruined it.”

Laura gets angrier.

“Are you kidding me? Yeah sure. Someone as a toddler is capable of ruining your love-less relationship.”

“Will you stop? For once? And realize what you did?”

Shrug.

“Why do you think your mom left Laura? Because of you! Because you were, and still are a pain in the ass to everyone and can’t fucking take care of herself.”

Cross too face Kal. Let it all unleash.

“I was six you asshole! I did nothing!”

“You did everything wrong. You were a burden to everyone.”

Watch Kal cross. Brief moment of silence. Continue.  

“If I’m such a burden on your life why don’t you just send me off to my mother, huh?! I’m sure you’d be a whole lot happier, wouldn't you?”

“Maybe! Because instead I wouldn’t have to deal with a needy brat like you!”

Here it comes. Go for it Y/n. Go. 

“WHY DO YOU HATE ME SO MUCH? I was six when she left! Did it ever occur to you that maybe it wasn’t me who made her leave? You can't fathom or accept the truth because in your mind, she was the perfect woman for you. Your high school sweetheart. This shiny little Barbie doll that was meant to be the love of your life! Well guess what, she was far from it. In reality she was a horrible person. She was someone who came home drunk every night because she was depressed. She was young. She had her whole life ahead of her and she wanted more and everything was perfect until you showed up-“

“Stop it, Laura.”

“You changed her path, you were the one who convinced her to do those terrible things.”

“Stop.”

“It was never me, it was never my fault. It was always you!”

slap

…

Why is nobody calling cut? Why is it so silent? Jesus, that felt so amazing. Holy shit. Wait, was it awful? Shit. Why is nobody speaking?!

“Okay kid you got the part.”

Thunderous applause. You’ve never heard an atmosphere change so quickly. Was this real life? Am I really awake? Apparently so. You felt yourself come back to life when Chris gave you a hug.

“Congratulations, Y/N! That was amazing! I can't wait.”

You felt your mouth start to feel dry after keeping it open for so long. Still in shock. This had to be the best day of your life.

✨Masterlist✨

#chris evans x teen!reader #chris evans x actress!reader #chris evans x teen!actress!reader #chris evans

[moregaythanyourealized]

Do you think I could request some content for an Otto X male!reader who has intrusive thoughts?

It had been…difficult lately to keep your thoughts at bay. You did the breathing exercises, you counted to ten, you took stupid nature walks. They didn’t go away and it was clawing at your brain while you worked. As if math wasn’t hard enough the noise of the air conditioning was bothering you, and every time a car honked outside you jumped a bit. When was the last time you relaxed? Your phone rang but all it sounded like was alarms blaring in your ears. Throwing your pencil down you covered your ears and squeezed your eyes shut. The noises were so loud and your thoughts are getting louder. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Biting your tongue and waiting it out seemed like the only option. When you did open your eyes you saw that nearly an hour had passed. Where did the time go? Two missed calls from Otto. God, he must think I’m ignoring him. You pressed the phone to your ear,

“Otto?”

“Y/n, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, just had my ringer off. What did you call for?”

“To remind you about dinner tonight? I’ll pick you up in an hour handsome.” Why did you lie? You felt hot under your skin and ran to get ready.

Fuck! Nothing looked good. I look like shit, god he’s gonna hate me. What if he knows I lied about my ringer being off? Stomping your feet you sat down. Tears welled and you sighed, why was it so easy for everyone else? It didn’t feel like other guys went through this. Other guys were strong and capable, and you were moping on the floor like a toddler. You picked at the carpet with your nails and tried to block out everything. If you could just focus on anything else you would be okay for tonight. I’m fine, I’m fine,

Otto was waiting outside for you. You both had this night planned for awhile. It was hard to see each other with work. But it was getting late and Otto was worried about his boyfriend. Opening the door he walked up the steps,

“Y/n?” On the other side of the door things only got worse. Stupid fucking idiot! No wonder he doesn’t love you, you can’t even pull yourself together for one night! Angered swelled and you looked up at yourself in the mirror. Yelling you punched it and watched as your reflection shattered and fell to the floor. The door bursted off it’s hinges and Otto ran in,

“What’s wrong? Did someone hurt you!?” Oh, he looked so pretty in his suit. You ruin everything don’t you?

“I’m fine!”

“Y/n…” He stared down to where blood was dripping on the broken glass. His eyes filled with hurt,

“Did you do this to yourself?” He reached forward for you and touched your shoulder startling you. Stumbling back you slipped and landed on your ass. That’s when it all came crashing down,

“I just wanna be good for you! I can’t do anything you can, y-you need someone smart and-” The actuators picked you and laid you on the bed softly. Otto sat down. Engulfing you in a hug you felt surrounded. Not in a bad way, your breathing was still ragged and you were most definitely bleeding on his suit,

“You are the most wonderful and caring man I know. And I understand that’s hard for you to realize, but I’m always going to be here. You’re not a burden. I’m choosing to be with you because I love you y/n.” He held you tightly and kissed your forehead,

“Let’s clean you up.”

#alfred molina #otto octavius #doc ock #doc ock x reader #mcu x reader #spiderman #male!reader #requests #fanfic request #hurt/comfort #tw cussing #tw self destruction #tw intrusive thoughts

[thefanficmonster]

When You Put It Like That

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: After a long time of trying to convince the angel-like Y/N to utter a single bad word, Corpse’s attempts are finally met with success but not the way he expected.

Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for this fluffy request, it was a ton of fun to write! I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post it but here it finally is and if you happen to come across it and read it, I hope you enjoy the experience hehe. Love, Vy ❤

“Wait, wait, wait, what did I miss?“ I say as I hop into the Discord call and the Among Us server, running five minutes late since I got carried away reading my chat. My fans tend to do that to me - make me lose track of time and everything else. That’s why I usually try to connect to the call and game before I turn to look at my chat. Unfortunately, I forgot that bit today.

“Omg, Y/N! Put the cat ears on! It’s for the greater good, just trust me!“ Rae commands urgently. Amusingly enough, in the background, muffled a little by her voice is Corpse’s, telling me not to.

“Not that I need a reason to wear cat ears...“ I trail off, equipping the cat ears both in-game and IRL. Yes, I own a pair of cat ears, is that so surprising? “But can someone fill me in on what’s happening?“

“’Cat girls are ruining my life’ just surpassed twenty million views on YouTube, so we’re celebrating! And Mr. Popular Pants over here keeps being a party pooper, saying it’s not a big deal and refusing to put on cat ears.“

That’s when I notice that Corpse’s avatar is the only one wearing a different accessory than the rest of us. It’s this kind of tantrum-throwing-toddler that gets me laughing my butt off every single time. Add to it the witty sibling banter between him and Rae, fun for the whole family. Well, ok, not quite for the whole family with the curse words they sometimes drop left and right.

Speaking of cursing, I don’t do it. I was raised in a household where a curse word would earn me and my siblings a punishment - always different and never not creative but most importantly - always intense enough to make us regret saying a no-no word with our parents or grandparents around. That’s kind of stuck with me and I can’t really get over it. Even when I’m upset, the first thing that comes out of my mouth is that censor word YouTubers use to not get demonetized. I’ve been using those words all my life: shoot, freak, frick, crap, darn etc. - so my channel is always kept kid-friendly in that aspect.  Now with that context in mind, you’ll understand better the shock I received for this next move I made.

“Corpse, Corpse darling, listen to me. It’s not a big deal, it’s a HUGE deal. Don’t play the humble card with us, we know you too well. Allow us to be as excited as you were when you find out!“ I start off sweetly enough, “Sounds good?“

Corpse hesitates for a second, mumbling something under his breath before replying, “Ok, I guess.“

“Great!“ I clap my hands together, “Then put on the fucking cat ears!“

To say everyone in the call, especially Corpse, is stunned would be an understatement. Hell, I’m even stunned for a second or two, my eyebrows raising at my own out of character words. And, as a person who’s only cursed a countable-on-the-fingers-of-one-hand times in her life, boy did it feel freeing and relieving. Why haven’t I been doing it sooner, for fuck’s sake?!

This must be a huge success for everyone present, once again - especially for Corpse who’s been trying to get me to curse basically since the start of our friendship. He seems too shocked to even claim and flaunt his win over my willpower to keep my language clean, which I honestly appreciate.

“Well, when you put it like that...“ He finally mutters, his voice barely reaching me through the ‘oh my Gosh‘ squeals from Rae, Poki, Lily and Leslie who never thought their tries would lead to success. On the screen, I watch as his little black colored avatar equips the famous cat ears, “...How could I possibly complain?“

“Hell fucking yeah!“ I shout, clapping my hands together, “Wooo fucking hooo!“

“Ok, how the hell are we gonna stop her now? Is there a switch we can flip?“ Toast asks, faux concern in his voice.

“Shut it, Toast. I’ve worked far too hard to have her going back to being an angel!“ Corpse retorts, sending me and the rest of the players in a fit of laughter.

It’s true! He’s been working hella hard to get at least one curse word out of me, bribing me with immunity, threatening to kill me first in Among Us, offering an alliance or being my bodyguard or whatever else I could possibly fall for.

Hey, at least I didn’t get bribed into it, right?

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[melohax]

Why Basil isn’t “evil” or knowingly manipulative:

Warning: Major MAJOR Omori Spoilers Ahead

When people aren’t saying Sunny is a psychopath who deserves to be in jail, they’re saying Basil is an evil obsessive mastermind who tricked poor dissociating Sunny into defacing his sister’s corpse.

I’ve already explained before why I disagree with either interpretation but I haven’t gone in depth with Basil’s character. I’ll write about why I don’t think Basil is this dark yandere intentionally manipulating Sunny into dependance on him.

Basil is a tragic character with bad abandonment issues who legitimately wants to help the people he loves most. Unfortunately he also happens to have a broken “normalcy compass” (common in abused and/or neglected children). This means his well intentioned actions are often more harmful than helpful.

Aubrey says during a part of the real world segment that outside our main friend group, she’s always been an outcast. I think it’s no accident that we see in Sunny’s memories that she was the one who introduced Basil to the friend group, implying he’s also always been an outcast like her.

With Aubrey though, we can attribute her outcast status to things like living in the poorest neighborhood in Faraway town while also living in the visibly most worn-down house of said poor neighborhood.

Aubrey has a hoarding alcoholic mother that neglects her and a strict father (Aubrey casually mentions as a kid that her father is weirdly strict about her appearance) who ends up abandoning her anyway. Aubrey’s hot temper doesn’t help either and so even though she manages to be popular and well-loved among her hooligan friends, the rest of the town judges her harshly as if she’s at fault for her horrible life circumstances.

Then we have Basil. Basil’s economic circumstances are visibly better than Aubrey’s and he lives in a nice house surrounded by pretty flowers. Yet even with everything around him (even his appearance) looking so prim and cute, he’s still treated as an outcast.

We know that mentally ill children are way too often shunned by their peers and the adults surrounding them for being “weird” even though it’s not their fault that they have different brain chemistry. Without counting the bullying Aubrey carried out with her friends, Basil was already being ostracized by people outside the main friend group. In one of Sunny’s memories, Basil tells them that he’d always been alone before meeting them.

This lets us know that there’s always been “something” that’s made Basil unpopular with almost everyone. We see hints of why in the contrast between Dreamworld Basil and Real Basil. Whereas Dreamworld Basil is well-spoken, charismatic and cheerful, Real Basil is a nervous wreck that is prone to panic attacks and bouts of screaming. We could say he’s this way cus of what he did to Mari but from knowing Basil’s always been an unliked outcast, I get the feeling he’s not like this only from the Mari situation.

Then we have the probable root of his very obvious abandonment issues: Basil’s parents’ are completely absent save for some pictures in his home. Sunny himself has never seen Basil’s parents in person. Datamining apparently suggests his parents abandoned him when he was a toddler. To top it off, having a constantly ill and mostly unresponsive grandma as his only remaining family doesn’t help with his mental health issues at all, either. No wonder the kid’s clingy.

There’s also the caretaker at his house, who is introduced as Basil’s caretaker, not his sick grandmothers. Basil is at the age where he can legally emancipate himself yet we’re shown he still needs a caretaker to look after him. That Basil needs looking after kinda says to me that he has issues he can’t be left alone with.

So all these paragraphs were to explain the evidence that point to Basil likely being mentally ill since before Mari’s death. Now we get to the parts that make me think he’s been suffering from psychosis even as a kid.

12 year old Basil doesn’t seem capable of understanding the concept of Sunny being angry and accidentally shoving Mari down the stairs. He seems unable to consider the possibility that it was an argument between siblings just at the wrong place at the wrong time, as if that just can’t happen. To Basil, it HAS to be “Something” maliciously causing the incident and/or forcing Sunny to do it.

About the Mari incident and Basil’s fucked up idea: I think a lot of fans forget that first, not only was Basil a 12 year old kid back then (not even a teen yet) but also a lot of the reasoning behind many of Basil’s most important actions seems to be rooted in delusions he genuinely believes.

The same thing happens when the photo album was scribbled over: in his mind, there was no way any of his friends (*cough* Sunny) could have done this. It had to be the same “Something” attached both to him and Sunny that decided to ruin the photos. Basil doesn’t seem to remember doing anything to the album at all.

We could say all of this isn’t psychosis but metaphors for extreme denial instead, like the way Sunny decides things that remind him of The Truth don’t exist (like the closet door).

I don’t think this is all there is to it, tho.

Basil throughout the game tries to guide Sunny to the truth both in Headspace and that the time in his bathroom where he tries to talk to Sunny about the Something following them. Too afraid to hear him out, Sunny runs away instead while Basil screams for Sunny not to leave him again.

This shows imo that Basil’s brand of denial isn’t the same as Sunny’s. Sunny escapes into his own head and pretends everything involving the incident is either perpetually frozen in a time before anything bad happened or that it simply does not exist. He’s all about repression and suppression.

Basil on the other hand, acknowledges that the incident happened but he saw a Something committing the act instead of Sunny himself.

Then, the final battle against Basil confirms to me that Basil’s delusions and hallucinations go beyond denial of Sunny’s guilt.

Even when the truth is finally out in the open for the both of them, Basil still insists it’s “Something” that did everything. He attacks Sunny because he genuinely believes he is attacking Something evil and that this will protect Sunny from it. The most important detail to me: Basil slashes or gouges Sunny’s eye out specifically on the side where Somethings eye peeks out from Mari’s hair.

Saddest of all, we’re never shown if Basil ever managed to realize that there was never a monster doing everything. Although we are shown the burden of the secret is gone in that last scene between Sunny and Basil, we don’t know if Basil ever understood that Sunny wasn’t forced by any monster to kill Mari.

There’s more that can be said but this post already got long af lol. My conclusion is that Basil isn’t some evil yandere mastermind. He’s a sad wreck of a teenager who’s always struggled with mental illness, trying to do the best he can for those he loves while being plagued by nearly constant delusions and hallucinations.

Tricking his best friend/love interest isn’t part of Basil’s modus operandi when a lot of times he can barely tell what’s real and what isn’t.

#omori spoilers #omori #omori game #basil omori #omori basil #mari omori #omori mari #aubrey omori #omori aubrey #mental illness #cw mental illness

[beautiful-and-terrible]

little things

Rating: Gen

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, SoftBoi!Rodrick, Insecure!Reader

Ship: Rodrick Heffley x Reader

Warnings: Body Image, Eating Disorders / Body Dysmorphia, Insecurity 

A/N: this is. SO shmoopy and cheesy lmaoooo but this was an anon request and i live to please :) enjoy!

---

You dragged yourself through your front door, kicking off your shoes in the foyer. The house was dark - your parents were probably asleep already.

You had just spent the day with Rodrick at Six Flags, and you were exhausted from spending all day in the hot sun, running around with your boyfriend like children. You smiled to yourself thinking about the events of the day, the thrill of the rollercoasters you went on.

You clutched the teddy bear Rodrick had won you close to your chest as you slowly ascended the stairs, trying not to make too much noise.

You entered your room and tenderly placed the bear on the bed, giving it a little kiss on the head as you did so before starting your night routine. Change into pajamas, brush teeth, wash face. As you were putting on your final face cream, your phone vibrated on the bathroom counter. You knew who it was from the specific rhythm of the vibration - two short bursts, like a heartbeat.

Rodrick had sent pictures of you two from today - a lot of selfies, but also a couple of far away shots that Rodrick had harassed people into taking for you. People rarely were able to say no to Rodrick once he had gotten an idea into his head - even if that idea was wrapping himself around a street lamp like a stripper for a good picture.

You finally, blissfully laid down in bed, letting out a giant groan as you cracked your back. You browsed the photos, feeling your heart-rate pick up as you gazed at Rodrick in the pictures. He looked so cute today - he had been wearing cut off black jeans, black high-top vans, and a loose button down Hawaiian shirt, half-way unbuttoned to show off his tanned chest and the multiple layers of silver necklaces he was wearing. His nails were painted black, but his eyes were free of makeup, simply accented by his naturally long eye-lashes and the smile-lines around his eyes.

After admiring Rodrick, you turned your gaze to yourself in the pictures. You felt your heart sink into your stomach. When you had left the house this morning, you had felt pretty confident in your outfit - just ripped jean shorts and a crop-top with converse. But as you looked closer, you couldn’t stop thinking about how unsatisfied you felt with the way you looked in the pictures.

As you continued to scroll through, the more faults you found in your appearance. Your thighs being squeezed by your shorts, which didn’t feel too tight but apparently were not as flattering as you thought. In one picture, you were sitting down on a bench, your legs over Rodrick’s lap, but you couldn’t stop staring at the roll of your stomach that came over the waistband of your shorts. You felt tears pricking your eyes, but you stubbornly refused to cry. You spent a long time trying to feel confident in yourself - you weren’t going to let that hard work be ruined by a few unflattering photos.

However, you couldn’t stop thinking about the way your body looked in those pictures. You got up to stand in front of your full length mirror, looking at the reflection critically. You were craning your neck to look at your butt when you heard a soft tap-tap-tap at the window. You jumped about 2 feet in the air before you realized it was just Rodrick, grinning from outside the window and placing a wet kiss on the glass, making you laugh. He made a grossed-out expression when he realized the glass was not as clean as he thought it was, wiping his tongue on the back of his hand.

“I swear to God, you’re like a toddler. Didn’t your mom ever tell you not to lick random surfaces?” you asked as you opened the window to let him in. He folded himself gracefully through the window, all long limbs and messy hair. You felt both comforted and electrified in his presence.

“Since when have I ever listened to any authority figure?” Rodrick asked, grinning wolfishly and leaning down to kiss you softly, juxtaposing his rebellious tone. For someone with such a seemingly hard exterior, Rodrick was always very gentle and sweet with you. It was one of the things you loved most about him - he seemed to hate everyone but you. It made you feel special and appreciated. 

As he pulled back from the kiss, he frowned, stroking his thumb over your cheek. “Have you been crying? Your eyes are red,” he said, making a pouty face. You shrugged, turning away and shaking your head.

“No, just allergies probably.”

Rodrick scoffed, “Sure, allergies. You’re a bad liar, you know that?”

You refused to look at him, instead going to your record player and flipping through the vinyls you had stacked in a black milk-crate. “I’m not a bad liar,” you said half-heartedly, not really able to come up with any other excuse.

“You totally are, you avoided eye contact and everything. Seriously, what's wrong? Do you not like the bear?” Rodrick asked. You felt his arms wrap around your waist, his chest pressed against your back, his nose tucked into the crook of your neck. You felt yourself smile despite your bad mood.

“No, I love the bear. I named him Sasha Bear-on Cohen. Get it?” you said, turning your head to place a kiss on his cheek.

“Ahh, a-very nice,” Rodrick replied in his best Borat impression. You giggled. He gave you a squeeze, hands warm on your waist, but the sensation made you self-conscious about your body again, and you wiggled away. You couldn’t understand how Rodrick could bear to touch you. You had no idea why he was attracted to you in the first place. It made tears spring to your eyes again, and you sniffled.

“Y/n”, Rodrick said softly, looking genuinely concerned. “I know you. You don’t get sad for no reason - unless you’re on your period, or you start thinking too much about the Mars Curiosity Rover.”

You sighed, but you knew he had a point. It took you a minute to get your thoughts into words before you spoke.

“I just... I know its silly. But those pictures - you look like a Hot Topic wet dream and I look... I don’t know. I just don’t like the way I look. And most of the time I don’t let it bother me - at least, I try - but I hate having my picture taken because whenever I see them, all I can see is the things I hate about myself. So. Yeah.”

You feel the tears making steady rivers down your cheeks, and your voice shakes as you speak. Rodrick listens attentively, sitting on the foot of your bed. He pats the space next to him, and you sit down. His hand rests on your leg - not constraining you or placating you with a hug, just letting you know he’s there.

“Y/n, I don’t know how to tell you this without sounding like a giant cheese-ball, but... holy fuck. You are so beautiful. I - every time I look at you all I can think is goddamn, I can’t believe she’s into a loser like me. And don’t argue, it’s just a fact,” he says quickly as you try to defend him from his own self-deprecation. 

“I’m not good with words... I’m more of a man of action, y’know?” he says, raising his eyebrows suggestively. You smack him on the arm, but his silly expression still makes you smile.

“But, I can still tell you - and don’t repeat this to anyone ever because I’ll never live it down - you give me butterflies. Every time. No matter if you’re in pajamas or a ballgown. You make me feel like a stack of pancakes with warm butter and syrup,” he pauses as you laugh, his warm brown eyes gazing into yours. “Just... I don’t even know what I’m saying at this point. You make my bones feel funny. That’s how beautiful you are.”

Rodrick finally wraps his arms around you. You let yourself be folded into the embrace, feeling content and more than a little overwhelmed by his confession.

“Thank you,” you murmur, unable to find any other words at the moment. You want to say all of that back to him, ten-fold. You want to tell him he makes you feel like flashing concert lights and Fourth of July fireworks. But your mouth can’t make the words, so you just wrap your arms around him tighter.

“Do you want me to spend the night?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your temple. You simply nod, already moving up the bed and pulling back the covers as Rodrick goes to turn out the lights.

In the dark of the room, only illuminated by the street-lamp outside your house, Rodrick looks very alien - all long lines and lean angles. It makes your heart-rate kick up again, and you feel a blush form on your cheeks. It’s not as though this is the first time you’ve slept in the same bed, or even been intimate, but this feels... different. 

Rodrick tucks himself in next to you on your bed - it’s a queen size, so it fits both of you well enough that you could sleep together not touching if you wanted to. But Rodrick is a big cuddler at heart, even if he would deny it to his grave. He wraps his arms around your waist as you lay your head on his chest, already being lulled to sleep by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

You feel like it’s important to tell him before you both lose the tenderness of the moment, so you finally open your mouth to speak.

“I’m so lucky. I know you think you’re... a loser, or whatever but, Rodrick. You aren’t. You are so beyond cool, and brave, and courageous. Thinking about you makes my head spin. And whenever I see you... I’m home.” You trail off, feeling awkward, but Rodrick simply tightens his arms around you, stroking your back with his fingers.

“If I knew we were getting this sentimental I wouldn’t have brought lube... and maybe a few tissues,” he snickers, and you pinch his nipple, causing him to squeal.

“Jerk.”

“Bitch,” he teases back, and you sigh softly, feeling your body and mind relax. You had almost completely forgotten about the pictures - and at this point, you didn’t really care. The pictures didn’t speak. The only voice telling you that you weren’t beautiful was the one inside your head, and it could definitely be a bitch sometimes.

You could’ve imagined it, but as your brain was finally shutting down, you could’ve sworn you heard Rodrick start to sing, “you are my sunshine... my only sunshine...”

“you make me happy... when skies are gray...”

“you’ll never know, dear, how much i love you...”

“please don’t take my sunshine away...”

#devon bostick #rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley fanfiction #rodrick heffley fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #comfort fanfiction #comfort fanfic #hurt fanfiction #hurt fanfic #hurt/comfort fanfic #Diary of a Wimpy Kid

[cuquitalocita]

...oops |rowaelin month- day 5|

rowaelin masterlist

an: i had a dream about this and i kind of hate the ending buttt enjoy! :)

word count: 3,988

~~

“You did what?” 

It wouldn’t take a genius to note that twenty one year- old Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was fuming. And it would have been to no one’s surprise if the princess herself brought the very palace down in flames herself in a matter of moments. 

The Queen of Terrasen sighed and with a small shake of her head, daintily placed her teacup on the table in front of her. With her hands crossed in her lap, she turned her blue gaze to her daughter’s twin one, this one holding a fire many would cower from despite the girl’s young age. But it seemed that Evalin Ashryver feared no one but the gods, and she faced her daughter’s seeth head-on. 

“Fireheart-” 

“An arranged marriage? I wasn’t aware I was a doll who’s life you can just play with. Is this top okay or would you like to change me into a new pretty dress?”

Evalin merely rolled her eyes at her only daughter, allowing her to rant and fume as she pleased for what seemed like hours before the princess finally collapsed into the chair beside her, blue in the face and a vein popping out of her forehead. 

“Fireheart,” she began again, this time gentler. “You have to understand, your father and I are simply doing what we believe is best for the country. For our people.”

“By selling me away? I’m not a child anymore mother, and I can make my own decisions just fine.” The anger had vanished, now replaced by a look of utter despair in the princess’ eyes as she gazed at her mother, an attempt to delay what she knew was inevitable.

“We know that Aelin, of course we do, and we would never do anything to purposefully hurt you. Terrasen is… is struggling right now, my love. You may be our only hope.” 

The look in her mother’s eyes settled something in her chest and she realized there would be no fighting this- although she most certainly would try. Her parents were set on an arranged marriage for the Princess of Terrasen. 

And as she stormed through the door of her chambers, Aelin’s thoughts settled on one in particular.

The Prince of Doranelle better be handsome.

~~

The Wild Princess of Terrasen, they called her.

Well- Aelin thought as she gunned the Corvette through the streets of the capital- if they wanted a wild princess, a wild princess is what they would get. 

She remembered a time where her mother had rolled her eyes when her daughter had told her she wanted a Corvette for her sixteenth birthday. She didn’t even have a license, and she would never be driving herself, so what good would it do?

Aelin smirked. Apparently they were perfect for fits of rage. 

She vaguely remembered a few lessons Brullo had given her when she had managed to bribe the grumpy body guard with cookies enough for him to teach her how to drive- unbeknownst to her mother, of course. Aelin bet that Evalin Ashryver would just about have a heart attack if she knew her daughter could drive.

Aelin swerved into the left lane without her turn signal, earning an angry honk and a few unkind words from the car behind her.

Well- sort of knew how to drive. 

Oops, she thought. From then on, she turned her speed down just a bit. 

As Aelin careened through the streets of Terrasen, she realized that as a princess, she truly had been deprived of her own country. Sure, she had been escorted through the streets during the annual parade, and her father used to take her to Malakai’s for her favorite cake every once in a while, but the streets she drove through now were unknown to her. 

She passed jogging college kids and mothers with strollers and toddlers, couples holding hands and homeless people that scattered some of the streets. The sight made her heart clench and her knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. 

Aelin was so focused on the people around her, she forgot to look forward as she drove through a glaring red light. Luckily there were barely any other cars around her, and the only indication that she had done something wrong came from a distinctly aggravated male voice screaming, “What the fu-”

“Shit!” 

Aelin slammed her foot down on the breaks as her gaze came into contact with a man in front of her- she was going full speed towards him as she tried crossing the cross walk. The car came to a screeching halt directly in front of him, but the momentum proved to be too much as the Corvette did in fact make contact with him.

She thought time slowed down as the man went shooting to the ground with a groan of pain. 

Yes, she had just hit a man with her car.

But her mother was going to absolute assassinate her. 

Another loud groan from outside the window had Aelin shoving the car into park and flying out to the man in front of her, heart in her throat. 

As she took in the man, she wondered what the odds were of hitting a person with your car and having them be one of the most attractive people you’ve ever seen. Pretty low, Aelin would think, but like everything else in her life, statistics did not seem to be on her side.

The man was clearly young, maybe a few years older than her, and even though he wore a thick winter jacket to protect him from the Terrasen winter, he was clearly built like a greek god. With silver hair almost matching the snow around him and tan skin that signaled to Aelin he clearly wasn’t from around here, the man could have been on the front page of any popular magazine. 

“Fuck!” 

Aelin kneeled down beside the man who was thankfully still conscious, face scrunched up in pain and clear anger. It made him look older, she thought as she finally looked at his eyes. They were a stunning green. She wanted to hit herself with her car. Of course they were. 

“A-are you okay?” She helped him up, placing a hand on his lower back and pushing him up until he sat forward enough until he could support himself.

The man glared at her, teeth clenched in pain as his gaze burned into her own.

“Are you crazy?” he growled, his voice even deeper than Aelin thought it would have been. “Am I okay? You just hit me with your fucking car!” 

Aelin jerked her hand away from him, suddenly defensive. “Look, I am so sorry. I- I wasn’t looking where I was driving and-”

The man scoffed. “Obviously.” 

Aelin saw red. 

“Well what the fuck were you doing on a crosswalk two seconds before the light turned red? You had plenty of time to move out of the way and you’re blaming me because you couldn’t look around?” 

It was moments like these where Aelin realized why Elide’s fiancee liked to call her ‘fire breathing bitch queen.’ Sure, she could acknowledge it. She had just hit the guy with her car, and Aelin had foung a way to blame him. 

“Maybe if you had been less careless about crashing Daddy’s car you would have been a bit more careful and we wouldn’t be here right now, Princess.” 

Aelin almost slapped him, if not for the derogatory way her title slipped through his tongue. And that was when she realized that he had no idea who she was. The man in front of her didn’t look like an idiot. He wouldn’t be insulting her if he knew who she was. And Aelin realized she didn’t want him to know. Not as the words that spilled through her lips could ruin her entire legacy.

“Watch it.” The words were low and dangerous, and something flashed in the man’s eyes that signaled to her than he had caught the anger lacing her tone. “You don’t know shit about me.”

“I don’t think I need to. Nor do I care enough to want to.”

“Well you’re clearly fine, if you can spew ridiculous insults out of your head at the drop of a dime,” Aelin deadpanned. “So, can we wrap this up?” 

“Gladly.” He made to get up, placing his weight on his arm as he pushed himself upward, cutting off with a loud gasp of pain before sinking back to the ground, his green eyes alight with agony. The sight made a pang shoot through Aelin’s chest and she grabbed his arm to steady him before his momentum his head careening toward the ground. 

“Shit, we need to take you to the hospital.” She rose, already on her way back to the car.

“No way am I going anywhere with you.” 

“That’s fine.” Aelin’s smile was purely saccharine. “You can stay here if you’d like. It’s supposed to drop to -10 in a few hours when the sun goes down but you look pretty toasty to me. Of course, your fingers will fall off before the ambulance gets here, so it’s really give or take.”

The man growled and rubbed a large hand through his hair.

“So what do you say, Superman?” Aelin gestured to the car behind her. “What’s the worst that can happen? I already hit you with my car today.” 

If the tone of his voice was any indication, the man was in enough pain to barely put up a fight.

“Fine. But get into another accident and I’m calling the police.”

Aelin almost laughed. Little did he know that she owned the police.

It was only during the awkwardly silent drive to the hospital that Aelin realized the workers at the hospital would recognize her, and then the man beside her would. The thought put a sour taste in Aelin’s mouth. She liked fighting with this man- liked the fact that he treated her with the same amount of respect he would anyone who hit him with their car. Even if he was an infuriating prick of a man. 

“Alright,” she pulled the car into park. “Here we are.” The man grunted in acknowledgment.

Surprisingly enough, the ER was close to empty on the Thursday evening and Aelin was grateful that it meant fewer people would recognize her. Who knew how the paparazzi would react if they saw their crown princess in the ER with an unknown man. 

As if her ‘issues’ weren’t plastered in the tabloids enough already. 

Aelin hadn’t realized how tall the man was until he was standing solidly behind her at the check-in desk. He was close enough that she could feel him at her back and she swore her shoulder had bumped below his own. Gods, he was strong.

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts, and turned to the man at the desk. 

“Hi um, I’m here to check in a patient.” If the way the man swallowed was any indication, said patient was glaring daggers from beside her. He turned to the monitor in front of him and began typing something into the computer.

“And, what’s the reason for your visit today?”

Aelin cleared her throat. “Just- just a checkup. He had a bit of a fall, we just wanted to make sure everything is okay.” She felt what must have been a scoff from behind her but ignored it. The man nodded without looking at her or stopping his typing.

“Okay,” he finally said after a few moments of silence. He handed a clipboard to Aelin holding a few pieces of obvious paperwork. “Fill this out and give it back to me when you’re done. It’s a slow day so you should be able to meet with the doctor in just a second.” Aelin nodded, thanking the man and making her way to the empty seats across the desk, dragging her silver-haired friend with her until he collapsed into the seat beside her with a huff. 

She ignored him in favor of flicking through the paperwork as casually as she could, attempting to not draw attention to the fact that she clearly knew none of the personal information about the man beside her.

Aelin leaned close to him and almost rolled her eyes when he leaned significantly away.

“Hey,” she whispered. She watched as he rolled his eyes.

“What?”

“What’s your name?” he leveled her with a confused look and she held up the paperwork. But really, what kind of an idiot hit someone with their car and didn’t ask for their name. Aelin was such an idiot. Such an-

“Rowan.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s Rowan.” She raised a brow,

“Rowan…?”

“Whitethorn.” Rowan Whitethorn. The name sent a pang of familiarity through her and Aelin struggled to ruffle through her mind to find where she had heard it before. 

“What do you do for work?” The question was out of her mouth before she could berate herself for how stupid it was. His eyebrows shot up to the top of his head.

“Is that on the form?” his voice was defensive but Aelin shrugged nonetheless and Rowan sighed before running a hand through his hair. “Let’s say I’m involved with politics.” 

Aelin grimaced. Maybe that was why her mind had blocked out his name. Anyone involved with any kind of politics was automatically dislikeable in Aelin’s eyes. She had been around enough politicians to recognize their slimy exterior. 

Rowan clearly noticed her face and scowled at her. “Well not all of us have a choice in our future just because we’re young and irresponsible.” Like you, was what he didn’t have to say. Aelin wanted to kick him. If only he knew. Instead, she rolled her eyes and looked back at the sheet in front of her.

“Date of birth?”

“December 8, 1995.” Aelin almost dropped her pencil but instead turned to Rowan, surprised to find him already looking at her.

“Seriously? You’re twenty- five?”

“What’s your point?”

“All of the high and mighty, ‘I’m your elder’ attitude and you’re only four years older than me.” She shook her head and turned back to the form, ignoring the glare she could feel burning into her skull and trying her best not to think about how good Rowan smelled from beside her. She never would have thought that the scent of pine could be so intoxicating. 

“Place of birth?”

“Doranelle.” Aelin wondered if he knew anything of the infamous prince she was to marry. She really should have done some more research before storming out of the palace. 

“Height?”

“6’ 4”.” 

“Any allergies?”

“Blondes.” Aelin ignored that one. 

“Any family history of fatal medical issues?”

“No.”

“Type and reason for pain?” 

“An irritation in my head from the woman beside me.” 

Aelin threw her pen at him and watched as he winced before looking at her with wide annoyed eyes. But she frankly didn’t give a fuck anymore. She could have let him freeze to death outside and here he was complaining about her.

“You know, this whole thing would be a lot easier if you weren’t such a prick.”

“Actually this whole thing would be a lot easier if you hadn’t-”

Rowan was cut off by the clearing of a throat in front of them, signaling someone had come through the door. The two had been too preoccupied with one another to even notice the doctor standing in front of them. 

She’s beautiful, with cinnamon skin and curly hair, and she wears an amused smile on her face as she looks between the two. Aelin and Rowan automatically calm themselves into an acceptable demeanor and Aelin stands to shake hands with the doctor in front of them, handing her the unfinished paperwork.

“Alright, Mr… Whitethorn. I’m Doctor Towers and I’ll be helping you out here today. Why don’t you come back here with me and we can check you out.” Rowan stood up to follow her out of the room before Doctor Towers turned back to look at Aelin. “You can come too, Mrs. Whitethorn. We’ll probably need you to clear a few things up.”

Aelin hated the blush that sprang to her cheeks at the implication that she could be married to Rowan, and she almost laughed. As if she could ever marry someone like him. Their protests are cut off by the creaking of the door and neither Aelin nor Rowan bothers to correct the doctor as she leads them to a section of the hospital filled with open hospital beds and shitty curtains for ‘privacy.’

Pulling one shut, Doctor Towers gestures for Rowan to sit on the bed. Once he does, she leans back on her heels and pulls out her own clipboard. 

“Okay, what seems to be the problem today?”

They’re silent for a moment, both looking at each other with wide eyes, not knowing what to say. Eventually, Aelin clears her throat. 

“Um, we had a bit of an accident-”

“I would hardly call it an ‘accident.’ She-”

“He decided to walk through a crosswalk during a green light and-”

“You hit me with your car!” 

It seemed the entire hospital went silent for a moment before sound resumed once more and Aelin allowed her head to fall into her hands.

“It wasn’t like that. I-”

“You slammed straight into me!”

“I barely knicked you!” 

Doctor Towers had been watching the sparring match between the two with wide eyes, clearly still hung up on the fact that he had been hit by a car and was still alive. It took a moment before she shook her head and scribbled a few things down on her piece of paper. 

“I hate to ask this,” she cleared her throat. “Was this- um, a crime of passion?”

Aelin and Rowan stared at her blankly before turning to each other, both confused. She tried again.

“I mean- when a wife hits her husband with a car-” Realizing what she was implying, Aelin and Rowan were quick with their rebuttals. 

“She’s not-”

“I’m not his wife!”

“Most definitely not-”

“As if I’d ever marry this prick-”

“I would rather hit myself with a car than voluntarily pledge myself to her.” 

Aelin rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her defensively. “Now that’s a little dramatic.” 

“Well, you did hit me with a car.” If Aelin didn’t know any better, she would say that it almost looked like amusement twisted his lips. 

“You’re never gonna get over that, are you?” 

“Not likely.” 

Doctor Towers cleared her throat from beside them, causing the two to snap their gazes back to her. Whatever they found there had them shut their mouths like scolded children.

“So…” she arched a brow. “It was an accident?”

Rowan nodded while Aelin muttered, “Unfortunately.” 

Doctor Towers ignored the comment in favor of looking at Aelin closely. She watched in despair as it clicked in her head who exactly was standing in front of her and Aelin found herself holding her breath. But surprisingly enough, the doctor said nothing, simply turning to Rowan with a knowing look.

“So Mr. Whitethorn, what hurts?”

“Besides everything?” Rowan grimaced as he circled his shoulder. “Mostly my shoulder. I don’t know if I pulled it today specifically, but it’s been bothering me for a while. I think today just aggravated it.” 

“It could be a stress fracture,” she mused. “Has anything happened recently in your life that could have caused your anxiety and stress levels to shoot up? It could be anything really from, an increase in work to a big change or big news…”

Rowan let out what Aelin assumed was some sort of laugh. She ignored the shiver it sent down her spine.

“You could say that.” 

Doctor Towers didn’t press for more information, merely nodded and wrote something down before looking at Rowan again.

“The only solution I can really offer you right now is to ice it as often as you can for about eight to ten weeks, and it should heal on its own. No cast necessary.”

“Really?” Aelin exclaimed, unable to hold back the relief in her voice. Maybe her mother wouldn’t kill her after all. “That’s great.” 

“It is,” Doctor Towers gazed at her through a knowing smile and narrowed eyes. “Just try not to hit people with your car anymore Pr-, ma’am.” Aelin almost laughed at the comment, even more at the mistake she had almost made, but instead nodded with a small smile.

“I’ll see what I can do.” 

Turning to Rowan, Aelin found him already watching her, a strange look on his face as he gazed between the two women. He opened his mouth to speak when the door to the ER burst open, and the Queen herself strutted through.

Aelin thought that if a look could set a flame, she would be ashes by now. 

She felt herself pale as her mother walked toward her on near-silent footsteps, leaving citizens bowing in her wake. But the Queen only had eyes for her daughter. Very angry eyes. 

“Aelin Ashryver Galathynius,” she hissed, and Aelin tried not to cringe. “You are in so much trouble young lady.” Aelin opened her mouth to defend herself. “Sneaking out, close to Yulemas in fact, when crime rates are highest, stealing a car-”

“It’s not stealing if it’s mine-” Her mouth snapped shut at the look her mother gave her. 

“You’ll come to learn Aelin, that as future queen of this country, you have a status to uphold. You have an image- a reputation, one that should not include sneaking out of the palace unsupervised and ending up in the ER.” 

She felt the words like a stab to the heart. Aelin knew the last thing her mother wanted to do was hurt her, especially with her words. But Aelin felt the truth of them to the bottom of her toes, and she was swept into a tidal wave of disappointment in herself. No wonder her parents wanted to marry her off. Of course she couldn’t lead a country on her own.

“Mother, I’m sorry I snuck out. I was just so upset with you. And do you think I meant to end up in the ER? I hit him with my car for Gods sake! I couldn’t just-”

“You’re the princess?” 

The surprisingly choked voice came from Rowan, and the two pairs of Ashryver eyes snapped to him in a millisecond. Rowan was looking at Aelin like he had never seen her before, and she frowned at him in confusion. Maybe he hadn’t met a princess before, but this was hardly how she thought he would react. It was as if he was going to be sick.

From beside her, Evalin let out a strangled laugh and Aelin gazed at her mother incredulously. From beside her, Aelin’s mother burst into peals of laughter. 

“Well, this is quite the situation, isn’t it?” she laughed. It was a moment before she composed herself and turned to Rowan.  “Rowan Whitethorn. I suppose introductions aren’t necessary.” 

Rowan was bowing, green eyes hard as they met Aelin’s and stayed there, even as he addressed her mother. “Your majesty. Allow me to express my gratitude for welcoming me into your country.” 

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Evalin insisted, still smiling as if she couldn’t believe what was happening. “You’re practically family, after all.” 

And that was when it hit her.

Let’s just say I’m involved with politics.

Doranelle.

Recent stressful news.

His name. 

Rowan’s eyes were on hers as the realization struck that Aelin not only fell into the statistics of people who hit attractive strangers with their car but also happened to hit members of royalty.

No- Aelin thought as she gaped at her betrothed- she most definitely did not fall in favor of most statistics. But they had fallen with her on one account.

The Prince of Doranelle was handsome. 

~~

this prompt was: “i accidentally hit you with my car”

taglist:

@story-scribbler​

@rowaelinismyotp​

@live-the-fangirl-life​

@claralady​

@surielandiareendgame​

#aelin galythinius #rowan whitethorn #aelin #rowan #aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #rowaelin #rowaelin fic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin au #rowaelin modern au #tog sjm #throne of glass #rowaelin month

[just-a-quirkless-loser]

Invective Pain

Alpha Bakugou x F!Omega Reader

Words: 2.4k

Requested by: @goatsenpaiultimate

Hehe, sorry for the wait you guys. It’s been a rough few weeks for me. Also, the song ‘Butterfly’s Repose’ by Zabawa is amazing to listen to while you read this💜

Warnings: harsh language, Bakugou being an asshole, angst

“Get the fuck off me.”

“Alpha, please.”

“I said, get off. What the hell is wrong with you? You’ve been too clingy,” you prove his point and cling to his arm.

“I miss you,” you try to nuzzle his neck so he can scent you. With your wolf quirk, it was getting harder and harder to stay away from Bakugou for long periods of time. Your instincts were on hyperdrive, always wanting him within your reach so you knew he was safe.

“Don’t you understand what ‘no’ means?” Bakugou tenses up as you continue trying to climb his body. Due to his inability to express himself, he’s still not used to your affections.

“I can’t help it,” you ruffle your tail to prove your point.

“Well, try harder to help it.”

“But, alpha-“

“No, I’m sick and tired of your bullshit. As soon as I come home, you want to climb all over me. I can’t even take a fucking shower,” you hunch into yourself as you take a step away from him. Looking back on it, he did have a point. You could stand to at least allow him a few moments to himself before you bombard him. But, it’s just hard on you.

Because of your quirk, you’ve always been the type to cling to people and try to protect them. You miss your parents because you considered them to be your pack but, that all changed when you met Bakugou. After a few months of dating, you moved in with Bakugou (your inner Omega told you she’d love to start her own pack with him). However, it’s been a difficult transition.

Bakugou normally takes your clinginess in stride but, it’s been hard for him lately. All he wants to do is take you underneath him and nuzzle you and treat you like a queen. But, he’s been dealing with this case. It’s been stressing him out and he’s never been the type to deal with stress in a correct way.

“I’m sorry.”

“Fuck, I- FUCK! Omega. I just can’t keep doing this. You’re fucking annoying. This was a mistake. We shouldn’t have moved in together,” his words stung in your mind like a swarm of hornets, making you yelp in your mind. Although, no one would ever be able to tell your inner turmoil from the calm look on your face. Why does he have to tear you down with his words? What does he gain from your dissociation? Does it bring him satisfaction to win the argument? Even at the expense of your heart? The same heart he swore to protect when he chose you as a mate.

“I’m sorry,” and you don’t understand why. You just stand there with a blank expression, no longer feeling that your heart is safe in his hands. And, that is worse than losing an argument the two of you have.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it. I’m tired of you sticking to my fucking side like a toddler. You’re always hovering over me. I need space,” you intend to give him all the space he needs. “Selfish extra.”

He doesn’t know what his words do to you as he goes to the room you share, bumping you out of his way. You want to cry, you want to chirp, you want to-to-die; without him-without your alpha- what is there to live for?

Your omega crawls to your heart, shriveling up like a raisin as if your soul has been sucked by a vacuum. You feel your heart drop; the first sign of Omega Depression and you don’t tell Katsuki. How can you?

He made it clear how bothersome you were in his life. You never meant to be a burden to him. All you wanted to do was love him and give him the love he lacked from his teenage years. But, it’s transparent that you’re not wanted by the person your soul has imprinted upon.

You sit on the couch, staring into nothingness. What did you do wrong? What was so wrong with wanting to love him? You feel weak. Maybe if Katsuki had someone stronger, someone who could take his invective words in stride, he’d be happier.

As you wallow in your own pain, Katsuki is upstairs taking a shower. Part of him feels relieved to finally have some space to himself and the other scolds him for what said; he barely remembers what he said to you exactly. All he knows that your face is blank so, he assumes it’s not too bad since you weren’t crying.

He walks out of the shower expecting to see you but, he’s greeted with an empty bed. He figures you just want space to be angry so, he lets you stay downstairs.

‘It’ll be fine tomorrow,’ it won’t. As he dozes off to that thought, you were downstairs stuck in your mind. It's your fault for always forgiving him after he’s verbally ruined you You just thought your love for him outweighed anything he said to you. But, your unconditional love has reached its limit.

You wait till he falls asleep before you break the facade (you still want him to get his sleep so he can wake up healthy tomorrow). You heave and whimper as you curl into a ball on the cold living room floor. You shake from the force of your tears, tears falling like rain in the spring. You’re trying to smile to stop the tears but, your mouth ends up in a horrible grimace as you silently berate yourself. Your hands scrape at your arms, nails taking patches of your skin as a way to distract your mind. You don’t sleep that night; you don’t sleep for any of the nights that follow.

When you hear your alpha’s alarm clock sound, you climb on the couch with your face smooshed to the cushions. Katsuki follows his nightly routine, not even checking to see if you’re okay. He just gets dressed for his patrol and leaves breakfast on the table for you, kissing your hair goodbye before he leaves out the door.

You’re once again crying as you just lay there. You don’t bother to call your job to notify them of your absence. If anything, you just lay there, your tail curled around your body as if it’s protecting you from the world.

You feel useless against your heart because you know you shouldn’t have allowed Bakugou’s temper to get to this point. You had suggested therapy and anger management to him many times but, he was persistent in telling you that he had it under control. You knew he thought seeking therapy was weak (as he thinks most things are weak) but, you just wanted him to think before he spoke.

You can tell that he’s tried to do better for you and you appreciate that but, it’s not enough anymore.

This was the last straw. Not because you still don’t love him but, because you’re now in your Omega’s Depression. It’s a fairly new phenomenon. The doctors warned Omegas and Alphas that their second genders could drive them into a comatose state if the genders were met with unfavorable conditions. Your omega has started the process and you can only hope that Katsuki figures that out before it’s too late.

At first, Bakugou didn’t think anything about your attitude. He just thought you were giving him space (which he hated. It feels weird to him to be alone when he was always with you and he’s too prideful to admit that) however, he knows something is wrong when you start to avoid him.

You don’t talk to him like you use to, you don’t cook his favorite spicy ramen anymore, hell, you don’t even come to bed anymore. It’s like two strangers living in the same house (well, roommates would be more accurate). And, he misses you.

“Why are you sleeping on that shitty couch?” He’s standing above you with his arms folded, head to the side so he can hide his blush. You don’t respond, dried tear stains on your cheeks.

“Not gonna answer? What you’re too good to speak to me?” He squats down to eye-level. His breath fans across your face, the smokey caramel of his scent bringing more tears to your eyes. “Omega?”

You still don’t answer. He takes that as you still being angry about the argument; he also notes the change in your scent.

“Tch,” he walks to the bedroom and comes back with a few blankets so he can make a small hammock beside the couch at your side. He slips into the covers, hand upon your waist so he can feel you. “Goodnight, Omega.”

The next day, you’re still in the same spot on the couch above him. He does his routine, this time spending longer at saying goodbye.

“I’ll be back, Omega. Cuddling wouldn’t be the worse thing when I get home,” you stare blankly.

“And, I put some of your favorite cookies on the table,” still nothing.

“I love you,” nothing. And, that’s how he knows that everything is wrong. He spends the day on patrol, withdrawn from his hero-work. All he can think about is that blank look in your eye, the stillness of your home, the taste of failure on his tongue.

‘I fucked up,’ he sure did.

He comes home and you're still in the same spot. He doesn’t even think you got up to use the bathroom. You’re the first thing he attends to when his boots cross the threshold.

“Omega, you need a bath,” you don’t move so he picks you up bridal style and carries you to the bathroom. Your body is sweating and that stench gets even worse. “Omega, I’m sorry.”

But, sorry doesn’t fix everything. Sorry is nothing when you truly hurt someone. Sorry is when someone feels obligated to correct their wrongs (not because they want to). Sorry is the Black Licorice of apologies.

“Have you gone to work?” No. He knows you haven’t but, he just wants you to talk to him. His alpha cries for his mate yet, she doesn’t respond. “Baby?”

The bath is spent in silence as you sag on him. His hand's card through your (h/c) hair, trying to release some of your tension. It’s such an intimate moment of him caressing your body as though you are a precious work of art. His lips latched onto the mating mark on the side of your neck, reminding you that he cares.

When he gets you out of the tub, he dries you with your favorite fluffy towel. His carmine eyes gaze at you adoringly from your navel, blonde hair resting against your belly. One in a while, he’ll kiss your legs and feet, silently showing how much he truly cares for you.

Night rolls around and you both follow the same routine as before; you’re laying on the couch and he’s laying beside you on the floor. You’re not eating and that terrifies him. Sadly, this goes on for another month. And, Katsuki is growing desperate to have his omega back.

“I allowed my anger to do this to her- to me-to us. And, now, I don’t know if I can help her anymore,” he joined an anger management group (which, coincidentally helped his public image as well) after he realized the argument caused the rift in your relationship.

And, you’re proud of him on the inside, even if you can’t show it. At least he’s trying but, your omega just turns a blind eye to his efforts. You commend Katsuki for not giving up though.

‘It must be hard trying to change and improve for someone and they don’t even acknowledge your existence,’ you do feel bad for him. It seems that your love does outweigh his words.

But, you’re dying. He knows it. You know it. It’s known. He just won’t accept it.

“Omega,” you’re unconscious. He came home from the weekly session to find you unresponsive (well, more unresponsive than what you’ve been). “Omega, fuck-please-I God I, please wake up.”


So, you’re at the hospital now. The antiseptic burns your sensitive nose as you’re propped up on the hospital bed, sheets crinkling under your body. The doctors told Bakugou that you didn’t really have long to live but, he just can’t allow you to go without trying his best to save you.

“Omega, please, look at me,” you look at him but, it’s like you’re not seeing him. Your eyes don’t have the shine they used to. “Omega, please.”

You can’t answer him. What if you said the wrong thing? You were clinging to life by a single strand of fiber, death clinging to your scent. You knew you couldn’t handle it if Katsuki’s words hurt you once more.

“Please, talk to me, yell at me. Hit me. Do anything,” you can’t. Your voice is stuck in your mind. “Get mad. Throw something. Spit on me! Push me away. Shit, anything. Please just please please pleaseeee, fucking, please. PLEASE I’M NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO BE WITHOUT YOU. Please stop looking like you want to die.”

“But, I do,” you hope he can understand.

“NO! NO NO! I FUCKING NEED YOU. I LOVE YOU,” he chokes on his words as he gathers your face in his hands. “I’m such a piece of shit. It takes you dying for me to realize how much I love you. But, I do. I love you so much it hurts. I can’t lose you.”

“Wipe your tears,” you brush your thumbs across his cheek to gather his tears. “I’m right here.”

“How can you love me still? Your will to live is fucking weak and it’s my fault! And, I’m sitting here asking you to hold on for me. You don’t even have to speak to me. Just stay here. I promise I’ll stay here with you. You can’t leave me.”

“Bakugou-“

“For fuck's sake, It’s Katsuki to you! I did this to you. I’m so sorry for what I said. I’m sorry for pushing you away when I felt I didn’t deserve your love. I’m sorry for making you feel the pain I felt all these years. I’m sorry for being a shitty alpha,” he cries in your lap as you pat his back. Your omega stores, crooning to help her alpha. You’re not dead; the future may look bleak but, you know it will finally bring you the love you longed for.

————————————————————————-

Tag List💕

@orokayagi @sakurashortstack @sinclairsamess

#bnha #anime #bnha fanfiction #fanfic #mha #mha fanfiction #ao3 #author regrets nothing #fanfiction writer #omega reader #omega #omegaverse #alpha bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #we’re all quirkless losers #angst #bnha angst #mha angst #mean bakugou #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki

[rogue-durin-16]

AN UNUSUAL YEAR (Part I/V)

Summary: After having little to no interest on girls for five years, Fred suddenly feels the need to nag the shit out of a certain witch, completely oblivious to the reason behind it.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Genre: fluff (+ enemies to lovers)

Tags:

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: none

A/N: I'm currently going through a Harry Potter fever ('tis the damn season), so I thought I'll write something. I might write more of this story, (maybe turn it into a multipart) we'll see. If you'd like to be tagged in this, let me know.

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

I had always supposed that reaching the sixth year at Hogwarts meant subjects would get way more demanding and complex, and I to be proven right, only two weeks in were needed.

Added to the usual difficulties, we would be hosting The Triwizard Tournament. Having the castle be almost twice as crowded as the other years, when all you crave is a quiet spot to study, wasn't ideal.

As I said, the first two weeks were already hard enough.

During the third week though, believe it or not, things got even worse —and our guests hadn't even arrived yet.

The Slytherin common room was quieter than the library these days, that's the sole reason why, at 3:35 pm, my best friend and I were already making our way there.

To our luck, we arrived just in time to see the two redheaded troublemakers par excellence high-fiving each other besides my common room's entrance.

"What on Merlin's beard are you two doing here?!" Both of them jumped at the sight of two Slytherins.

"The question is what are YOU doing here?" One of them questioned back, probably attempting to distract us. "You two should be in the library."

"What did you do?" I squinted my eyes at them and, while one raised his hands in surrender, the other just shrugged.

"Nothing." He motioned at our door nonchalantly. "If you don't believe me, check it yourself."

My friend and I shared a reluctant look, and before I could say anything, she was heading to the door.

"Mathilda wait—" I gasped when she sunk into what appeared to be the stone floor.

"Okay now, I wasn't expecting her to actually do it." When I attempted to step forward, a hand on my forearm prevented me from it.

"Don't step further." He warned. "Just in case."

"I'm not stupid." I hissed before grabbing my wand, which made the tall redhead back off. "Revelio." Slowly, a swamp was revealed to be where the entrance hall to the Slytherin common room was supposed to.

Now that it was visible, both twins hurried to get my friend out of their giant prank.

"Get rid of this." I ordered as they pulled her up, her bottom half covered in mud.

"Pffft... no?" One of them scoffed, walking away from Mathilda and stepping closer to me. "It's a masterpiece. It stays."

"If it stays, I will throw you into your masterpiece." I threatened, putting my wand back in my pocket.

"Oh, I'd love to see you try."

I glared at him, partially because I hated that cocky attitude these two —specially him— always exhibited, but also because I had to look up in order to make eye contact.

"Listen Weasley,"

"It's Fred." Oh what would I give to wipe that stupid grin off his face.

"I don't care." Refusing to step back as he clearly wanted to achieve by towering me, I stepped forward, lightly pushing him back with one hand. "You will remove this from here or I will walk right now to the Potions Classroom and split on you."

The twins seemed to have a silent conversation with their eyes only. After a moment of silence, the one with my friend spoke. "We'll get rid of it right now and you won't say anything." I nodded, my eyes still fixed on Fred's. "Just so we're clear, this was not set up for you."

"The next one will be, though." Fred assured me with an almost wicked smile. "I'll make sure you can't use the revelio on it."

"Is that a promise, Weasley?" I asked in an unconsciously defying tone.

"You can be sure of it, Y/l/n."

"It's Y/n." I retorted, mocking him.

"I don't care." I rolled my eyes when he did the same, finally breaking eye contact with him.

"C'mon Thilda," I held out my hand to her "let's see if someone can sneak us into the Ravenclaw common room."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You think Fred meant it?" Mathilda inquired, the worry slipping through her words as she played with her breakfast.

"I doubt so." Angelina, who was sitting in front of us, replied without even looking up from her quidditch history book. "They seem more trouble than they are, really." I scoffed; it was easier for her to say that; she was a Griffindor after all. "Deep down they're nice sort, Y/n. They won't pick up on you for ruining a prank."

"I don't trust them."

"I'm not saying you have to—" Angelina jumped slightly when a wad of paper hit my face.

"You were saying?" I grunted, making eye contact with the red haired boy waving at me from the Griffindor table.

When I opened the wad, it read:

'miss me? —Fred ;)'.

"Look at his smug face." I hissed. "I'm gonna-"

"Ignore him. You're gonna ignore him." Angelina finished, fairly unconcerned. "I assure you he'll get bored in less then two days if he can't get a reaction out of you."

For the sake of having breakfast in peace, I only dedicated him a fake smile and did as my friend said. It seemed to work, until it was time to leave for class.

"We should get moving." Mathilda spoke, putting her plate aside and picking up her things as I did the same.

"I have a free period now." Angelina informed us. "Or as free as it can be. You?"

"Divination. Y/n?"

"Charms— Fuck." I whined as something dawned on me. "Those gits are in my class." I spared them a glare. "If they ruin my favorite subject I'm gonna—" a sudden splash of water on my face left my shirt soaked for at least the next hour. "You got the nerve—!" I yelled at the guy who was already making eye contact with me.

"I do, indeed!" He cut me off, winking at me from across the table, his chin resting on the palm of his hand with a teasing grin dancing on his lips as he asked, "what are you gonna do now, Y/l/n?" His twin brother, though I could only see his back, was clearly not enjoying this behavior.

Mathilda checked my gaze, dreading the worst. "Y/n, don't. You're gonna make Slytherin lose points." She knew the warning wouldn't do much, but at least she had tried.

Angelina, instead of backing our friend and try to calm me down, got up and walked to the table where the Weasleys sat.

FRED'S P.O.V.

"I hope you know you're dead." Angie stood in front of me, before using her book to tap my brother's arm. "George, move."

"What?"

The three of us spared a look at Y/n, who had, ignoring McGonagall yells, stepped over her table to get to us.

"Move. Now."

"Ssshit." My brother moved just in time for Y/n to repeat the same forward move on our table.

It's not as if I didn't have the time to move and run away, she hadn't rushed; on the contrary, she walked calmed and composed, and still I did not move an inch.

I guess a part of me wanted to know what she'd do to me.

"Look at you." I began to wind her up again when she climbed off the table on my side, sitting down on its surface with her shoes over the bench. "Doing the impossible to be near me, how romant—"

My sentence died off abruptly as a handful of scrambled eggs was mashed against my face.

I heard a burst of laughs around me. "Blimey! I'm sorry, Fred," she feigned worry, smearing what I assumed were the remaining rests of my breakfast all over my chest. "I hope you're not late to Charms because of this." She whispered near my ear, making a shiver go down my spine when her breath hit my neck. "See you there, yeah?"

Her hand squeezed my shoulder and her fingers ran over my shoulder blades as she walked away.

I felt a napkin placed in my hand and I was quick to remove as much scrambled eggs as possible from my face, just in time to see Y/n exiting the Great Hall with McGonagall jogging after her.

"You know?" Lee asked, drawing my attention. "Picking up on the girl you fancy is kind of a toddler strategy."

"Yeah, Fred," my brother agreed. "you're not an eighth year-old anymore."

"And you chose the wrong girl to nag" Angie added," if you keep it up, she will surely kill you." She held back a teasing smile. "And you should be careful" she nudged George. "I don't think she can tell you both apart, you can end up as collateral damage."

"But you wouldn't let that happen, would you?" I rolled my eyes when George scooted closer to our quidditch chaser.

"Depends on how annoying you are." She faked indifference as my brother searched for her eyes.

"I don't fancy her." I not-so-randomly stated. "But I can't stop pranking her now that she ruined my breakfast."

"You can and you will, Weasley." I jolted at McGonagall's voice behind me. "Twenty points from Gryffindor." At least I'm not grounded, I thought. "And you're grounded for the rest of the week."

"But Y/n— Ouch!" my brother kicked me under the table so I would shut it.

"Y/l/n has received her fair share of punishment, too, Weasley." The professor gave me a poorly masked, disgusted look. "Go and..." She waved her hand "Clean yourself up, Y/l/n will inform professor Flitwick about this incident. And Weasley," She stared at my brother. "Aren't you supposed to be heading to Charms too?"

"Yes ma'am." He replied, throwing everything into his bag, getting up and rushing out of there, not before grabbing his robe.

"The day's promising." I groaned, handing my things over to Angelina so I could go to the bathroom.

"You made the day promising by messing with a Slytherin, you twit." She pointed out, putting my things over hers. "Now go clean those eggs from your shirt."

"Aye, mother!" I headed off before Angie could add anything else to the conversation, loosening my tie as I moved forward.

As I cleaned off everything I could in the nearest bathroom, a random thought slipped into my mind.

Had Y/n been punished too? And if so, would we fullfil the punishment together? It seemed logical that if one of us got grounded, the other one would get grounded too; consequently, it would only make sense for us to—

Shut it. I mumbled to my own mind.

I didn't care. I did not care if she was punished or not. It was none of my business.

I don't fancy her, I thought to myself once again.

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