#makes her feel as if there's still good in this awful world

[literaila]

Hey, I don’t know what you make of love triangles but I’ve always wondered how Typical Family would look like if reader once had a “not so obvious” crush on Geto and the two almost looked like a couple except Geto only saw her as a friend and Satoru doesn’t actually start to “see” reader until he sees how broken up she is after Geto’s betrayal. Kind of looks like the thing between Sasuke/Sakura/Naruto (ahem Except Sakura takes the less toxic path). You don’t have to indulge in this nor does it have to be canon to your original story but I’m just curious 🌚

now i dont think satoru was ever jealous of suguru because 1. suguru is all-knowing and 2. suguru is a literal big brother to you and there is only platonic admiration there.

but. you know who satoru is jealous of? nanami kento.

okay, there’s really no arguing—the boy needs a haircut.

he also needs to stop letting you hang off of him, and taking you out to dinner (because you find his interest in food a bit bizarre, and funny), and making you laugh all of the goddamn time.

satoru may be the strongest, the prettiest—but he has the disadvantage of being older than you. it’s not often yaga sends the two of you somewhere together—or any of the first years with the seconds.

and it’s just not fair, okay?

the only reason you even train with satoru is because he’s the only person who can see your technique, the only one who has a fair fight.

in fact, the only reason satoru gets to hang out with you at all is because you like everyone else. your classmates like suguru and shoko—and tolerate satoru.

and maybe it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth when he sees you standing a little bit too close to nanami. maybe it makes him feel like his world could collapse—disappear—right in front of him.

he does not want to endure being subjected to your schoolgirl crush on a boy who can’t even be bothered to cut his hair. and what would you see in him anyway? are brown eyes preferable to his outer-worldly blue ones? is satoru’s hair just not yellow enough?

…is nanami your type?

all of this to say, it’s definitely not satoru’s fault that he just accidentally threw nanami across the courtyard.

it’s the boys fault, obviously, for daring you to wish him good luck, for saying something so funny before they began that his smug face is still so pleased from making you laugh.

it’s not satoru’s fault.

but he does realize his mistake when instead of aweing over him like he’d wanted—you rush to nanami.

satoru is standing there, a rare frown on his face, looking down at his hands like they’re going to give him some answers.

“are you taking your anger out on the first years, now?” suguru asks, dryly, looking over to where you’re checking nanami’s pupillary response.

“don’t know what you’re talking about,” satoru grumbles, feeling even more betrayed.

what does that kid offer than he can’t?

“you know you could just talk to her, right? you don’t need to beat nanami up to prove a point.”

“if he wasn’t so weak i wouldn’t have—“

and then you’re walking back to them, nanami’s arm slung over your back as you half carry him. his face is already puffing up. “where’s shoko?”

you give him a look with unbridled rage. satoru can already feel the scolding coming on.

“i think she had a meeting with yaga, or something,” satoru answers, giving you his best innocent look.

it does nothing.

suguru inspects nanami. “do you need help?”

“no,” you frown at the boy hanging on you and sigh. “i’m taking him to the infirmary. i don’t know where yu went, but if you see him will you tell him that we left?”

“sure.”

suguru nudges satoru. “uh, yeah. we’ll tell him.”

you nod sternly at them both. “thank you.”

and then you’re walking away, even closer to nanami than you were before.

satoru is already pouting. it doesn’t take much.

“you’re stupid, you know that?”

“he asked me to—!”

“he wanted to learn. not get a concussion for no reason.”

satoru waves a hand. “he wont even remember it tomorrow.”

suguru is smirking at him, looking like he knows something that satoru doesn’t. “because he has brain damage?”

“because shoko will heal him.”

suguru only shakes his head. “i’m going to find haibara. he probably got lost again.”

satoru nods but remains there, with his arms crossed.

seriously, nanami kento of all people?

*

meanwhile, you’re lugging kento up onto one of the tables in the infirmary, feeling like you should’ve forced gojo to carry him the whole way.

you would’ve—if the sight of him didn’t make you want to rip your hair out.

…for a multitude of reasons, of course.

“okay. you okay? how’s your head?”

“bruised.”

you snort, pushing his hair back so you can see the black eye that’s already developing. at least it won’t get the chance to turn purple, you think.

“i’m sorry. i don’t know why gojo did that.”

kento laughs, leaning again away from your hand. you wonder if it’s his possible concussion, or if what you said was really all that funny.

you’ve only gotten him to laugh like… three times.

“you can tell him that i’m not interested in stealing you away.”

“gojo?”

he nods.

“why would i tell him that?”

nanami’s eyes closed. he looks like he’s aged years in the last hour. “are you naturally ignorant, or are you trying to distract me?”

you cross your arms. “what do you mean?”

“whatever’s going on between you and that white haired freak, just leave me out of it.”

“going on? there’s nothing going on. gojo is just an idiot—“

“seems like it’s spreading.”

“are you sure you’re okay, ken? i think you’re going crazy.”

nanami sighs. you can practically see his eyes rolling under his eyelids. “where’s shoko?”

you look around, biting your lip. “i don’t know… i thought she’d be here by now. i’ll go check the classrooms.”

he nods.

“don’t fall asleep, okay? i mean it.”

“just hurry.”

and you turn around the door, more questions running through your head than when you walked in.

*

satoru is still standing there, contemplating his life choices (of which there have been few) when you’re running back across the courtyard.

but you slow as you near him, your eyes filled with intent.

and maybe he was waiting for this.

“you asshole,” you say, hitting him on the shoulder—which he allows because any moment of you touching him is one that satoru wants to savor. “what were you thinking?”

he stands there, completely still, for just a moment more. you’re here now. with him. who’s with nanami then?

still, he shrugs. “i just forgot how weak he was.”

“oh, you forgot? you forgot that it was training and kento isn’t some special grade curse you—“

“is he dead?”

“what? why would you say that?”

“if he was really a special grade curse he’d already be dead.”

“you’re so arrogant,” you grind out, shaking your head at him. “and reckless! kento probably has a concussion.”

“then why aren’t you looking after him?”

“i—what?”

“why are you here yelling at me,” satoru gestures to himself, a grin forming on his face. “instead of making sure that he’s okay?”

“i—“ your mouth opens. then closes. “i went to go look for shoko and i didn’t think that you…” you shake your head again, frowning.

satoru just smiles at you.

he likes you a bit flushed and angry anyway.

“stop smiling at me like that!”

“what? i’m not allowed to smile now?”

“no. after today you’re not allowed to do anything. you’re lucky i’m such a good person or else you’d be six feet under—“

“you expect me to believe that you would actually kill me?”

“if i didn’t have a moral obligation, yes.”

satoru laughs.

“shut up,” you say, hitting him again. “i’m angry enough that i could do it.”

he shakes his head, slinging his arm around your shoulder. he has to make up for all of the time that nanami got to cling to you—has to repossess this, or he might go insane.

“that’s not why i’m laughing.”

“get off of me.”

“you wouldn’t kill me,” satoru whispers, right in your ear, delighting in a shiver that you can’t hold back. “even if you could. you like me too much to do it.”

you push him off of you, scowling. “i do not like you—“ you insist, only slightly breathless. “you just beat up my friend for no reason.”

“friend?”

you scoff, crossing your arms and looking up at satoru like he’s a demon sent straight from hell—just to torment you.

have you ever looked at nanami like that?

no, satoru thinks, you haven’t.

“yes, friend,” you repeat, rolling your eyes, “i know you’re unfamiliar with the concept but really. why is everyone acting so weird today?”

satoru’s grin is almost blinding. there’s no one else you get so worked up over. no one else who you would pause just to yell at.

“c’mon,” he says, instead of answering. he pushes himself back onto you, pulling you close by your waist. “i’ll look for shoko with you. you can tell me about how much you like me on the way.”

“gojo satoru, i will still murder you—“

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #a typical family #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x y/n #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Too Good To Say Goodbye pt 5

Logan Sargeant x Fem!Reader, Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

warnings: cursing, mentions of miscarriage/stillborn

part 1 I part 2 I part 3 I part 4 I part 5

I couldn't put this off anymore. I had to talk to Logan about the night in the delivery room and I had to tell Lando about my reoccurring dreams. I know I technically haven't done anything wrong and I haven't cheated but something about my dreams have been feeling a little too real. My feelings for Logan might be too real.

No, stop that Y/N, Logan treated you like shit, there's no way you possibly like him. No. You're not that naive , you know better than to have feelings for a man that treated you like shit. But he also gave you a kid. A kid you so desperately wanted, one you needed to have, to love, to hold, to care for, to cherish after my first born passed.

I'd gotten off the phone with Logan shortly before Lando re-entered our room.

"She's finally back down, her pacifier fell out of her mouth." all Lando said before he got back into bed, trying to cuddle me. I felt so awful with myself and felt like I didn't deserve his comforting touch so I scooted away and attempted to get out of bed.

"Hey what's wrong? Where are you going?" a hint of sadness in his voice but that was quickly covered up with a simple clearing of his throat.

"Shower. Me and Lily are gonna hang out. Maybe you and Oscar could have Yelena for the day? I know Oscar has been begging to take her out and be the favorite uncle but I don't trust him alone with my daughter." a chuckle leaves my lips as I try not to sound nervous.

Why is the thought of having a civil conversation about the well being of my daughter with her father making me feel so icky and nervous? Part of me longs to have a healthy relationship with Logan, I mean he was my everything. Logan made me believe in love, he gave me 2 wonderful pregnancies even if I'll be able to never meet my other baby.

I quickly gathered things that I would need for my shower, a McLaren t-shirt, a pair of jeans, a bra, underwear, my Bose speaker, and a pair of slides before I made my way into the bathroom. I turned the shower on hot before I set everything down and got all my hair products that I'd need.

I took my H/C hair out of the bun I'd just had up prior, letting it fall past my shoulders in a curly nappy mess. I loved my hair don't get me wrong, but all the products I needed for it and how fast it would get nappy would sometimes be too much for me.

Stepping into the hot shower, I let it flow over me and letting my hair get soaked before I started lathering on some shampoo. While I was working the shampoo on my scalp, I couldn't help but imagine a life where Logan and I were endgame, a life where we didn't have split custody of our daughter, a life where when me and Yelena went to the paddock we were going into the Williams garage to cheer for Daddy instead of going into McLaren to cheer for mommy's new boyfriend, a life where little Theo James Sargeant was still alive.

Thinking about little Theo always made me emotional, I couldn't ever imagine a moment in the future where I could talk about him and not want to sob and quite frankly, I don't want their to ever be a time where it doesn't. I'll feel like I forgot about him and that's the last thing I want.

Maybe if Theo was alive none of this would've happened, me and Logan would still be happy, we could have 2 kids instead of 1. If Theo were here all my problems would be solved, I would be happy, Logan would be happy, but I wouldn't be with Lando. Life had its ups and downs, I wouldn't trade my relationship with Lando for the world.

It felt like I was lathering my scalp while being deep in thought for hours but in reality, when I snapped out of my trance I heard the ending of Taylor Swift's All Too Well (10 minute version). I quickly rinsed the shampoo out before quickly conditioning and brushing my hair out. I put my hair up in a little bun to allow my hair to soak up as much conditioner as possible while I scrubbed the rest of my body clean, I decided that today would be one of my ‘everything’ shower days so I also grabbed Lando’s razor that he has in the shower and shaved my legs and armpits.

Once I was done shaving, I took my hair out of the bun and rinsed the conditioner out while simultaneously raking my hands through my hair to get rid of the knots that formed. Once that was done I turned off the shower, wrapped my velcro towel around my body and wrapped my hair in a towel wrap. I’d looked at the time on my phone while trying to change the song, only to realize that I’m supposed to meet Logan at a little coffee shop that was 10 minutes away, in 20 minutes and I wasn’t ready yet.

I’d quickly a no makeup makeup look before quickly drying off my body and throwing my clothes on. I took my hair out the wrap and quickly, but efficiently worked some product in my hair to make sure I still had the curl and bounce when it dried.

I was so busy rushing out of the bathroom that I almost ran right into Lando who was holding Yelena.

“Oh there’s mommy!” Lando says while he points in my direction while simultaneously poking Yelena’s tummy “We were just coming to say bye to you. Oscar is waiting in my car” a smile appears on my face. Lando’s been so good to me and how do I repay him? I’m going behind his back to talk to my ex and baby dad about reoccurring dreams I’ve had about us being a happy family after our little “moment” in the delivery room.

I place a quick sweet kiss against Lando’s lips before I place a big fat one on Yelena’s head “Sorry I took long in the bathroom. Took an ‘everything’ shower, you know how it is.” a small chuckle leaves his lips before we hear a honk from outside “You guys should get going before Uncle Oscar gets mad” I say while I also place delicate pokes on Yelena’s tummy. A quick nod, faint goodbye and a goodbye kiss from Lando was what I got before he left.

I checked my phone again, I had 5 minutes to get to a coffee shop that was 10 minutes away. I quickly shot Logan a text saying that I was gonna be about 5 minutes behind schedule because I got caught in ‘traffic’. I figured it was believable when Logan shot me a ‘All good, I’ll be here when you arrive’ text.

——

When I’d arrived at the little coffee shop I spotted Logan in a quiet corner. He quickly spotted me because he’d basically leaped out of his seat to welcome me.

“Hey, I figured since you were gonna be late, I’d just order your drink for you. I got you a y/f/d, I hope that’s still your favorite.” the nervous smile that sprawled across his face made my heart clench. He was so cute, oh how badly I wanted to grab his face and pull him close to me. I shook my head to rid the thoughts in my brain.

“Yep, once my favorite always my favorite.” I graciously took the drink from his hands before we both sat down. We sat in silence for what felt like forever before Logan started the conversation.

“So, I called you here because, oh man, how do I say this? I asked you to be here because,” he let out a shaky breath before continuing “because ever since that night in the delivery room, I haven’t stopped dreaming of you. About us, all of us being one big happy family. Me, You and Yelena just living the life and I can’t help the yearn for that. I know you want nothing to do with me but” he placed his hand on top mine that rested on my drink “I know I fucked up big time all those months ago, and I know you hate me and want nothing to do with me, but please, give me one more chance. One more chance to prove to you that I’m a better, changed man. To prove to you that I’ll do anything it takes to be the best father and husband I can be. I love you and Yelena, will all of my heart, soul and bones I love you.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, I can’t tell him I’ve had the same dreams and that I feel that way too. The universe has a weird way of trying to get people together.

I pull my drink up to my lips which caused his hand to fall off mine. “Logan, I- We can’t- I’m with” I closed my eyes and took a long deep breath before I tried to continue “Logan, I love you more than you’ll ever know. You gave me a beautiful daughter and a life I never thought I’d have. I owe you so much but that debt I owed you went straight down the drain the moment you said that I should’ve killed myself, the moment you said I was another piece of ass to you and the moment” a few tears slipped “The moment you said you could impregnate ANY woman.”

I placed my drink down before grabbing a napkin from the dispenser on the table to wipe the fallen tears off my face. A beat or two passed before anyone said anything.

“Do you ever think,” Logan waited a beat before the continued, almost as if he was regretting what he was about to say “Do you ever think that if Theo were still here, none of this would’ve happened? That we’d be happy and together, that Yelena would be able to meet her big brother?”

I could see the tears forming in Logan’s eyes and the tears that once stopped falling came right back.

A choked sob left my throat at the mention of our late son. My body shook with so much pain and sadness that I hadn’t notice Logan left his seat. Not at least until I felt his big strong arms wrap around my body in a tight embrace. I could feel his body shake in his own quiet sobs. We stayed like this for what felt like hours, just in an embrace, sobbing, in public, where everyone is staring.

“Y/N?” Oh no, I recognized that voice. We pulled apart at the mention of my name turning to see Lando pushing a stroller and Oscar following suit “I thought you said you were hanging out with Lily?” Lando sounded suspicious as he looked between Logan and Me observing both of us red eyed. “Why are you both crying? Baby, are you okay?”

“Oh! Yes! Haha, Lily was running late so I grabbed a drink and saw Logan here and then we started talking about Theo” I said wiping the tears from under my eyes again

Oscar’s eyes closed and his face contorted in its own way of saying ‘oh no’

“That’s so funny babe because” Lily walked in “We actually ran into Lily and she mentioned nothing about your guys’ plans. Actually said that she’s been trying to set up a day where you guys could spend the day out and shop and have girls night but said that you kept postponing it. So why are you here with Logan and why’d you lie?”

The tension between us so thick you could hack it with a butcher knife a few times and it wouldn’t cut.

I’ve been caught in lies before but this one, I don’t know how I’m getting out of it.

“I promise I will tell you everything Lando, just not here”

Lando turned and whispered some things to Oscar and Lily whom nodded in agreement before handing them the stroller and the diaper bag and kissing Yelena goodbye.

He’s taken on such a natural fatherly role in her life that to the outside world, Yelena was his daughter and that’s what I admired about him, that’s why I fell in love with him and that’s why I really, really can’t lose him.

“We’re leaving.” was all Lando said before I whispered a goodbye to Logan and followed him out the door and to his McLaren.

The car ride home was awkward and silent. It hadn’t felt this bad in a car alone with him since I told him all those months ago about what happened with me and Logan. After what felt like an eternity we finally arrived at our house. The walk inside and into our bedroom was also awkward and silent.

Oh how I hated when Lando was mad at me.

“Why’d you lie?” it sounded cold, kinda made my heart break “Why were you out with Logan and why did you lie to me?”

“I-” I released a shaky breath “I met with Logan because” I was cut off

“Are you still in love with him?” betrayal and heartbreak coated Lando’s voice

“No! Absolutely not! Lando please don’t think like that!” I quickly walked over to him cupping his face and used my thumb to wipe a stray tear from his face

“I was with Logan because he wanted to talk about that night in the delivery room. He wanted to tell me that he’s been having dreams of us being a big happy family. He asked me what he could do to get me back, to win us back” the look in his eyes told me he believed what I was saying

“and what did you say?”

“I told him that after the way he treated me that I would never get back with him.” I felt him nod against my hands that were still holding his face before I wrapped them around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug feeling his arms wrap around my waist and squeezed tight.

I wanted to stay like this forever, wrapped up in his tight embrace. I felt like nothing bad could happen, I felt on top of the world and that’s how I wanted to stay, but all good things eventually come to an end.

The churn of my stomach is what pulled me away from Lando and I knew I was gonna be sick. I rushed myself to the bathroom before spilling my guts into the toilet. Lando quickly rushed in to hold my hair back and rub my back.

“I’ll be back. I’m gonna grab you a bottle of water” Lando said before he quickly jogged to the kitchen.

I’ve been sick before, but this felt different. I’ve felt this kind of sickness before. Twice, actually. I rested my head in my arms on the toilet seat before frantically looking around in the sink cupboard. I had to search quickly before Lando came back, I couldn’t find it and I didn’t want to call for Lando. One more quick search of lifting things up is when I finally see them.

pregnancy tests.

-

HEY!! I MISSED YOU!

taglist

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti@dhanihamidi @Ggasly.p @tellybearryyyy

#charles leclerc #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #lando norris #lewis hamilton #logan sargent fluff #too good to say goodbye #too good to say goodbye series #logan sargeant hurt #logan sargeant angst #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #logan sergeant imagines #logan sargent x reader

[genericpuff]

You know what do you think of hanza cancelling her own comic that is the guy upstairs? Like for me,I really really hope she's okay. And I know blacklightjack(he make a video about this) and the line he says about artists need to grow a thicker skin is just. I'm sorry like,look I get what he's saying but hanza have to cancel the comic because of toxic shippers. Sure,you can just ignore them and pretend they don't exist but they will still still still annoy you and h*rass you to the point you can't take it anymore and have to cancel the comic because of the whole goddamn toxic fanbase.

(as a Malaysian myself,I need to say this,I really hope hanza is alright. And in my language saya harap dia dapat bantuan Dan menjaga kesihatan sendiri)

So...

sigh I feel like this isn't the answer or essay you expected but I hope you're open to at least hearing it out all the same.

I do not think Hanza handled the situation in a way that benefitted her as a creator or her audience of people who genuinely love her work.

I DO think she was justified to be pissed off with the people harassing her. Those people suck ass and they're the definition of "this is why we can't have nice things."

But like... the notion of "you need to grow thicker skin" is true in being a creator who puts their work out into the world for an audience. Hear me out, this does NOT mean "creators aren't allowed to have feelings". But it does mean that you have to find peace with the fact that there are gonna be weirdos and assholes who take shit too far within your community. You don't necessarily deserve that. But you can't give those people power over you by going scorched earth in the way that Hanza did, because who does it really benefit? Hanza is now out a job and she's soiled her own reputation with her audience by basically going "FINE, because of these few people who were shit, NO ONE gets to have a good time!" And that's just... not a productive or healthy way to deal with these issues because it's just doing what those trolls and shitheads likely wanted. They wanted a reaction out of her, and she delivered it to them on a silver platter.

Like, I think of the dumbasses complaining about Hanza "taking advantage of the dark romance community" (she didn't, she just made a horror thriller comic that they felt entitled to see romance in) and guess what? Now those dumbasses have power over here because she ended the comic and in their heads, I'm sure they're thinking "good riddance". By choosing to not only end her comic, but spoil it entirely for her fans who were there in good faith, Hanza gave power to the people who weren't even a part of her target audience to begin with.

I do think it's ironic if people assume I'd automatically boo the "grow thicker skin" mantra because like, y'all... many of my complaints here are literally about people like Rachel who behave badly with their audience and desperately needed to grow thicker skin. In a lot of ways she's not even reacting to direct harassers, she's reacting to people simply discussing her comic in their own spaces which aren't mean for her. If she spoiled the ending of LO for her fans and ended the comic prematurely, I would feel awful, but... it still would have been her decision at the end of the day that she'd have to stand by and take responsibility for.

I think, at best, if I were to give her any unsolicited advice, she should have just put the comic on hiatus, taken a break, focused on her mental health and given herself enough distance to ask herself if she wanted to continue TGU. Maybe it still would have ended the same way, but at least she would have given herself the time and space to heal and rationalize her choices.

Instead, by choosing the nuclear option of spoiling the series for her readers and axing the comic - just to backpedal and go back to "no no it's just an indefinite hiatus!" - she gave up her power to the people who were harassing her. She reacted in a way that gave them power over her, not herself over them.

And I say this as someone who's currently on an indefinite hiatus with their main project, which I still have not spoiled for the 5 readers I have, despite the fact that I have zero clue when I'll return or if I'll even be able to. Whether or not Cyra and co. break out of the Reaper Society is now a 2 year old question.

I say this all as someone who has been harassed and is still harassed for doing what I wanna do. My first ever webcomic website when I was like 17 used to get emails and comments from shitty classmates and other local yokels who knew of me and wanted to pick fights over a teenager's dumb lil' gag comics. I kept making those comics anyways for myself and for the people who did like reading them, until I was ready to drop the comic on my own terms and move onto my next project, which would be Reaper. Reaper also got a lot of nonsense complaints and harassment. As did my fanfiction projects, as did my digital art, as did everything that I've ever put out into the world through the Internet, because the Internet just sucks for everyone always and then you die 🤣

And now, 10+ years later, I get the occasional "you're a shitty talentless person who isn't gonna amount to anything and yaddayaddayadda" which, to be fair, is a reaction from the folks who are unhappy with my intentions to make a Lore Olympus rewrite comic!

But I'm not going to give them power over me by stopping. I have a story I want to tell and if I stopped telling that story due to the shitty things they had to say and do, then I would be punishing myself and punishing my audience for the actions of a few bad apples. I do not deserve to have those abusive actions targeted at me (though they surely do and that's on them) and I do not have to put up with it, but I genuinely would not be able to live with myself if I gave them power over me by reacting in such an explosive way that my bloody remains land on everyone around me, including the people who were supportive and loved my work along the way.

There's this sort of mindfulness technique in stress and emotional management where you have to recognize that other people's actions are NOT your responsibility, but your REACTION is, because your reaction is what you can control and have power over.

Rachel Smythe finished LO in spite of what wackjobs like me said (and still say) about her and she has power in that perseverance, power that wackjobs like me cannot and *should* not try to take away from her.

mongie decided Webtoons was not suited for her work and vision and decided to put the comic on hiatus until she could get her distribution rights back and continue Let's Play on another platform. She has power in that decision and integrity, power that Webtoons cannot take away from her.

Whether or not you like my work, whatever opinion you have of it that you're entitled to, I have power in knowing that I started a project that I now love dearly and can take pride in, and has brought closure to people like me who were left disappointed by LO. I have power in that stubbornness and refusal to let other people determine what I'm capable of.

Even if you remove the external influence of the audience from the picture, we all have power as creators that we need to harness and take ownership in.

By going nuclear and spoiling her comic for her audience and ending it entirely, Hanza may have gotten the short term satisfaction of turning the school bus around to go back home, but she still disrespected herself and robbed herself of her own power as a creator which will ultimately stick with her far more than it will the harassers who will inevitably move on to some other target and forget she even existed. And that's a decision that she has to live with.

The harassers got under Hanza's skin and gave her more than enough reason to feel frustrated. But they did not spoil and end the comic. She did. And she is ultimately the only one who will have to live with the consequences of that.

I do hope she's okay and that she's getting the time and space she needs to heal from this. If this truly is the outcome that she feels gives her the most power, I hope she found strength in it, regardless of the opinions of people like myself that ultimately should not matter to her. I hope the people harassing her get what's coming for them whether it be actually getting called out or just the universe delivering karmic retribution on them. I hope Hanza can find joy and peace again either in TGU or whatever project she pursues next. But most importantly, I hope she finds the confidence and power she needs to stick to her guns and create what she wants to create, unapologetically.

"Growing thicker skin" doesn't mean we as creators have to be comfortable with abuse - it just means we need to do ourselves the honor and favor of making decisions that give ourselves power rather than giving it away to the abusers who do not have to live our lives at the end of it all.

And that is my very big bag of cents on that.

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #webtoon critical

[aurora-daily]

How Aurora awed Billie Eilish, met Leonard Cohen’s lover and sang her way out of the Norwegian woods

The secret star of Frozen II on why she chose music over molecular science – and the reason ‘art without politics is a bit boring’

AURORA for The Telegraph, interviewed by Neil McCormick (May 26th, 2024)

“I’ve always known how to sing,” says Aurora Aksnes, in her soft, clear Norwegian accent. “I never really get tired. I can sing for 12 hours. And have a pint of Guinness. And still sing!”

There is something very special about the 27-year-old singer, songwriter and producer known simply as Aurora. Her music is extraordinary, but in person she is enchanting too: warm, witty, intense and slightly unearthly. She dresses with colourfully eccentric flair, and her wide eyes lock on to yours as if she is trying to peer into your soul, or let you see into hers.

The youngest of three sisters, she was raised by her mother, a midwife, and father, a salesman, in remote western Norway as a “person of the forest”, as she puts it, playing piano, writing songs and dancing from an early age. Her intimate and original compositions soon found an audience online and, at 18, she was given a record deal by Decca. Her breakthrough 2015 single, Runaway, has had more than 870 million streams on Spotify (where she has more than 12 million monthly listeners) and in excess of 640 million views on YouTube. Among her early fans was a young Billie Eilish, who has since said “When I saw Aurora, something inside me clicked, like, that is what I want to do.” 

While Aurora tends not to trouble the weekly singles charts, her atmospheric music has appeared on the soundtracks to countless video games, TV series and films – and that’s her you can hear singing Into the Unknown, the most irresistible earworm in Frozen II, alongside Idina Menzel. Or you might know her from the 2015 John Lewis Christmas ad, for which she invested an interpretation of Oasis’s Half the World Away with her signature gentle intensity.

Yet her true talent is most evident in her own poetic songs that range from the intimate to the epic and provide a showcase for a clear, high, expressive voice that seems able to go anywhere she wants it to, in productions that blend folk, classical, techno and pop. Enya, Björk and Kate Bush are clear influences, but you could throw into that mix the world-funk blend of Peter Gabriel, the shiny electronic dance spirit of Robyn and the synth psychedelia of The Chemical Brothers. “It’s very hard when people ask what kind of music I do,” she says. “I just like to say I make good music. It’s something I bring from within, like a human organ. I’m an organ donor!”

Released next month, Aurora’s fourth album What Happened to the Heart? is her strongest yet – a vividly emotional set grappling with loss, grief and recovery that somehow shines with a spirit of positivity. “It is not a breakup album,” she insists. “Well, not in the traditional sense of breaking up with a lover. But it has a lot of the same sentiments: saying goodbye, accepting change. It’s about the healing process, and how we deal with pain.” Although she has previously claimed that she doesn’t write from autobiographical experience, she acknowledges that, on this occasion, personal upset (about which she doesn’t wish to go into detail) was involved.

“Usually, I don’t write when I’m sad,” she says. “I don’t want to write in a way that worships the pain; I feel I should heal first, and then I can put light and wisdom in there. But this time it was very urgent. I really felt the need to pour out a lot.”

Yet if the new album draws on individual sadness, it also taps into Aurora’s sense that “something is seriously wrong in the world. While I was writing and recording, wars were breaking out. I could not contain this anger and rage on behalf of the underdog. The music got quite wild and dark.” 

As her audience grows, Aurora considers it her responsibility to speak out about the issues that matter to her, whether the state of the environment or LGBTQ+ rights. “It’s not the 1940s any more, a modern star should be in touch with the world,” she says, adding, “Art without politics is a bit boring.”

When Aurora was young, she wanted to be a scientist, perhaps in the field of “molecular technology”, she says – “I still might; life is long!” – but then music took over. “I listened to Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen, because that’s all the music we had in my childhood home, in the forest countryside in Norway. So when I started writing, I thought that music should say something big.”

She notes that during the 1980s when Cohen’s career was failing in the rest of the world, he was sustained by his popularity in Norway. “He had something otherworldly, that felt like an ancient reminder of kindness and grace in a world that can be very ungraceful and unkind.” Aurora tells me with delight that she knew Marianne Ihlen – Cohen’s lover and the subject of his classic 1967 song, So Long Marianne – who died in 2016, aged 81. “She was from the same village as my grandparents. She was so beautiful.”

There is something discernibly Norwegian about Aurora’s own music, full of allusions to long, dark winter days and the return of the light brought by spring. “It’s funny how deeply the sadness is rooted in the darkness,” she says. “You hear it from way back in our history, in every children’s song; they are all super sad, with heavy melodies, a dead mother, a dead child, a troll in the mountains that’s lonely. When the darkness comes, we hibernate. I read and sleep and cook and light candles, I ask of myself nothing. When everything blossoms, I write a lot; from February to October is [when I’m at] my most creative. Even though the winter months are hard, it’s worth it, because spring is just bliss.”

She believes that music is the ideal medium not only to express that bliss, but to inspire it, too. “I think it reminds people that they have power and hope and potential,” she says. “There’s so much fear in the media, and it makes us very easy to control, because any animal or human in fear makes bad decisions. Music can speak about the same things, but it’s fuelled by love.”

When I point out that images of death and mortality haunt the new album, Aurora laughs – “Well, I am Norwegian!” – before insisting that, ultimately, she won’t allow the gloomy state of the planet to crush her positive spirit. “I’m not pessimistic, but I can sound like it,” she says. “It’s an odd world, that’s all I really want to say. I find it very strange, but also very beautiful.”

#aurora #aurora aksnes #interviews #what happened to the heart?

[vie-interrupted]

Sun Bleached Flies

Prologue : Waiting for the day

CW: violence, time jump, homophobia(internalized and explicit), angst, fluff, no NSFW(yet), pining, ellie is bad at communicating, reader is sexy AF!!, no use of y/n, corny romance, eventual happy ending!!

AN: First official chapter of the fic!!! Sorry the end is a bit rushed, I wrote this at the end of a lecture. I have a few other chapters planned out, but not started. Again, feedback is welcome and encouraged!! Also all the chapters are named after lyrics of Ethel Cain’s “Sun bleached flies,”i’m not a complete cornball. Not proofread. Enjoy ♡

_____________________________________

Summer in Jackson was beautiful, of course, but after spending a year in the town, Ellie decided the best time of year was early autumn. The mountains’ trademark breeze was accompanied by the lingering warm air of August, making even the most strenuous of chores feel almost blissful.

After much begging and bribing, Ellie was successful in convincing Maria and Joel to allow her on real patrols. Supervised, of course, but how much more could a 16 year old want in this post apocalyptic world? So, when the morning of her first outing rolled around, Ellie threw on her dreadful converse and departed from her tiny garage room. Unfortunately, Joel was quick to catch her rubbing the sleep from her blurry eyes when they met at the stables.

“Awh, you seem tired kiddo,” he says, feigning concern. “Maybe this isn’t a good id-.”

Ellie cuts him off with an eye roll and a swift punch to the arm. Before the old man could retaliate, she trots off to Shimmer’s stall.

“We’d better go,” Ellie whispered hurriedly, unwinding the lead from her saddle horn. “You promised we’d leave before everyone else!”

It’s now Joel’s turn to roll his eyes, though he knew how much this meant to her. Regardless of the fact that the… incident at the hospital was years behind them, Ellie was still eager to prove her worth. She was a restless thing, flitting between jobs, disregarding social events and holidays, simply desperate to find something that would give her life purpose. Other than her immunity, which had been proven to be worthless to humanity.

Ellie shielded her eyes from the newly risen sun as she and Joel departed the communal stables, urging their mounts to a comfortable trot as they neared the looming gates of Jackson. The duo nodded politely at the two men at the gates, slowing as they struggled to open them. Once the towering wall was no longer confining her, it took every ounce of strength in Ellie’s body to not kick shimmers flank and charge into the rolling hills of the scenery surrounding them. Sure, Jackson was a comfort, but walls stressed Ellie out. She wasn’t accustomed to normalcy.

Instead of fleeing to live a life in the wilderness, Ellie trotted alongside Joel, slowing so that he could pull out his map.

“We’ll start slow,” he said, pointing at a circled region on the paper. “Gonna head somewhere less populated.”

Ellie nodded, not expecting more. Flicking her reigns, she bolted ahead of Joel, who swiftly followed.

The hours passed, mostly filled by bad jokes and a stray runner or two. Ellie felt lighter, content with the fact that this was how it would always be. Her and Joel, knocking out infected and laughing over outdated puns.

Ellie was in the middle of telling a (definitely not exaggerated) story about how awful and annoying their neighbor Seth was when Joel suddenly stiffened.

“I mean, how are you still gonna be a ‘republican’ when we don’t even have a government-“

“Shh,” Joel hissed, gesturing to the dense woods to their right. A light crunching noise could be heard. “Footsteps,” he mouthed.

Ellie nodded and made a circle motion with her hands, silently asking to circle behind whatever was making that sound in order to catch the culprit by surprise.

After a moment of hesitation, Joel nodded in return. Ellie pulled her gun from her belt and hopped off of Shimmer, patting her briefly before disappearing into the foliage.

Sensing a presence to her right, she crouched quietly into the muddy earth beneath her, peering in between the trees. Just a stone’s throw from her, a figure was leaning against a tree, seemingly pointing at something.

Ellie took a deep breath and tiptoed towards the figure, her eyebrows creasing in concentration. Suddenly, it dawned on her that infected were never still for this long. They also didn’t hold… what was that in its hand? She squinted her eyes, thinking more about the fact that Jackson really should have an optician than how loud her feet were in the crunchy leaves beneath her. Without warning, the now discernible woman whirled around, slow enough for Ellie notice it was a gun you were holding, but too fast for her to react. The woman, with eyes filled with fire, lifted her hand gun and brought it down upon Ellie’s cheek, causing her head to fill with blinding white light. She clutched her face, yelling for Joel before pouncing on her opponent, tackling her to the ground. Thundering footsteps told Ellie that he was close, but not close enough. The woman… no… young girl was screeching beneath her as Ellie held her down, dodging the overgrown nails headed straight for her face. Suddenly, a large hand gripped Ellie by the back of her hoodie and yanked her back.

“What the hell are you doing??” Ellie heard Joel yell over the ringing in her ears. “She’s a kid! She’s just a kid!”

He then kneeled down, calmly introducing himself as you scrambled to back away.

“Hey.. hey, it’s okay,” He said softly. “That was a mistake. She didn’t want to hurt you, we won’t hurt you..”

“She fucking tackled me!!” You yelled, pointing at Ellie like a toddler.

“You hit me first, you-!“

“Woah woah woah,” Joel interrupted, holding his hands out as an attempt to calm you both. “Let’s all just.. just calm down.” He turns to you while gesturing to himself.

“I’m Joel. This is Ellie. We have a settlement near here, a place where you’ll be safe.”

“No fucking way,” You said, shaking your head.

“He’s right,” Ellie spoke up. “We could probably trim those claws of yours-“

“Ellie,” Joel hissed, shooting her a glare. He turns back to you. “I’m serious. You’d have food. Shelter. How old are you anyway?”

You hesitated, unsure. You were slow to trust anyone, of course, but there was a certain kindness in this man’s eyes that told you he was being genuine.

“I’m sixteen.”

Joel nodded. “So is she,” he gestured to Ellie. “Look, how about we take you to Jackson. If you don’t like it, you’re free to leave. Swear it.”

You turned to look at the forest behind you, a vast sea of wood and danger. Releasing a breath, you nodded your head slowly.

Joel nodded in return, silently communicating to Ellie to be nice before turning back towards the horses and gesturing for you to follow.

You stood, turning to look at the girl next to you.

“What did he say your name was?” you asked.

“Ellie.”

“Yeah? Well fuck you, Ellie.”

____________________________________________

#tlou #ellie williams #the last of us #lesbian #ellie tlou #the last of us part 2 #tlou fanfiction #tlou2 #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x reader #first fic #queer #ellie williams fluff #ellie’s tattoo #joel and ellie #ellie the last of us #ellie williams fanfic

[binah-beloved]

Binah would help you put up fairy lights and smile when you're giddy over the tiny glowing stars

#project moon #lobotomy corporation #library of ruina #binah #binah lobcorp #binah library of ruina #my source is me replacing the batteries in my own fairy lights #and getting all excited over them actually being bright again #binah is happy when you're excited #it makes her smile #makes her feel as if there's still good in this awful world #sometimes when you're laughing she'll cup your face and just look at you softly #admiring what's most precious to her

[beanghostprincess]

I like to imagine that after Sanji transitions and they all get new bounty photos, she's like 'oh thank GOD' but when they all finally get to see the new photos. Sanji's is still as much as a Travesty as before.

You may be able to change your gender but you cannot change the bad luck that is Picture Day

I like to think she gets a gorgeous picture for her bounty (even if she's not passing, bc that's stupid and she doesn't owe normative femininity to anybody and she's gorgeous no matter what!) and she looks so good even Nami is a bit jealous but they're all happy for her and the only reason her other bounty posters were shit was that she wasn't being true to herself. And then Zeff sees the wanted poster and hangs it right in the kitchen where everyone can see his daughter <3 And if anybody says something dirty about her he'll just kick their asses!

#i just think she deserves the world and i'm tired of her getting shitty pictures #she looks beautiful end of the story #and also not to be mean but the phrasing here sounded a bit.. weird #like i know what you were trying to say but y'know trans girls who don't pass are still beautiful and y'know- girls #and considering not passing as a cis girl as not being pretty or having a good picture is just awful :( #but i get the joke i just think it would make sanji feel horrible and i don't want that #tbh i feel awful every time that joke is made in canon why would they do that #one piece #black leg sanji #transfem sanji

[stunfiskz]

#txt #erm….. tonight is not good today was not good. #got even more confirmation that my friends hate me so that’s nice. #the only one i think still doesn’t hate me had no problem texting in the group chat i’m not fucking in with everyone but me while i was #right there. and telling me about it. so. #and i now know at least one of them hates me and thinks i hate them. but i don’t and i feel so bad because i know i’m horrible at talking. #i know. i know i’m a horrible person to try to talk to because i’m selfish and annoying and say the wrong things and i know. i didn’t mean #to make them feel uncomfortable but i can’t just be a fucking normal person #i really can’t stand this anymore i really can’t #i’d rather them all just stop talking to me and for me to be solidly alone instead of this horrible fucking standstill #i know. i know i’m a horrible person. i know they don’t love me and i know i don’t deserve for them to love me so why are they pretending #like they still do. #im just so tired of this i’m so tired of having to exist in this stupid fucking world where i know i’m awful and can’t do anything right an #don’t deserve to be able to. #and i feel so bad because the girl i’ve been helping in one of my classes is going to fail. and i feel like if i could just be better or h #have started helping her earlier or stood up for her to the teacher she wouldn’t. but instead i have to be horrible at comforting people #and have to try to comfort her while she’s sobbing because her parents aren’t going to let her drive #and i just feel so awful #im so awful my school is so awful i don’t want to fucking be here. #i cannot wait for the year to be over at least i can be alone in my room and not have to annoy anyone or hurt anyone #well i still probably will because that’s just how i fuckign am but. hopefully less . #anyways gonna rewatch some more glee i guess

[hobisexually]

x

#hello internet #(why did I channel dan Howell just now I also don’t know) #i have been! chronically offline for a month now #and I don’t really know how to return after the world has called my real life attention to this degree #in a short summary: I went out of the country for the first time in three years and saw harry #then got covid. Went through two awful fear filled weeks where I really thought I was dying #then. barely recovered for (1) day and then was in charge of an office move #me! the most impractical bitch you’ve ever met! #i can’t believe it either and I think the fact that I wasn’t fully recovered from covid yet saved me weirdly #because I wasn’t conscious enough to stress about anything I just had to Do Things #most stressful week of my life still but we did it #then a day after I fucked off to london for my friends 30th #which unlocked many emotions I wasn’t prepared to deal with I don’t think I’ve ever been that sad in london before #it was very weird #but good because I was finally addressing some things #and then I left for scotland with one of my best friends and I have never walked this much in my LIFE #it was beautiful but also #I’ve known her since I was fifteen and it’s weird to see how. idk we’ve both changed so much #and yet she still manages to make me feel very small in a bad way but also very loved #it was odd #anyways then last night I came home and discovered my father went on a hissy fit again about losing me and where did he go wrong #and I’m just done with not being able to live my life without being guilt tripped! i really am! #my friend asked me in scotland why I feel the urge to lie about who I am to people #why I’m not just ✨me✨ #and I didn’t really have an answer until I came home to this and remembered I was forced to lie about who I am all my life because the me #that I am simply isn’t good enough. even at 30 years old this instinct is still there #and it’s fucked up! ITS SO FUCKED UP #anyways all this stress has made me ……. significantly uh. well it changed my body very much #and my friend just sent me the holiday pictures and now I’m trying not to cry because I didn’t realise I had let myself go like this #and it’s literally the least of my worries and it’s okay because I’ve gone through a LOT but also it isn’t okay. yk? alas SORRY HI FOLKS

[be-good-to-bugs]

i wanna believe my life will be ok one day

#the bin #things have changed a lot over the last few years but not for the better really #i just feel even more distant and unable to connect with other people than i used to #i wasnt able to develop social skills and now im an adult stuck trying to figure things out #i wanna think things will get better but i have a lot of doubts :( #i guess there have veen some good things that havw changed. ill be moving back in with family but in a new place than before #and i wont have to deal with my horriblw dad now that he died so that really good #my relationship with my 1 sister crumbling into garbage feels like a bad thing but the relationship was always bad #and i always felt like it was bad. i just couldnt escape because i didnt have anyone else so i was trapped #but im out now. it mwans that im even more alone but it also means im free of her horrible everything #i had a lot of fear about talking to people previously and it had to do with her but i think now maybe ill have an easier time #i wanna believe thats true. i wanna think maybe this change will be enough to push me into making feiends somwhow #i hate feeling the way i do. loneliness is physically painful. i hate that i dont have anyone i can go to anywhere in the world #i like my other siblings. theyre nice. but its different. at least i can complain to my other older sister and mom mom abt stuff #hhh. one day tho ill meet friends and be ok. its hard to meet people. i dont know where to go. but onw day i will!!! #i hope its soon and not in another several years but yknow. ill wait. at least now i have something that makes me feel less awful #i find it surprising im even still alive after almost 9 years of this. i was 10 when i lost all my friends and im about to turn 19 #but ill figure it out. at least i have weed now. maybe i get high too often and rely on it too much but its either that or feel suicidal #100% of the time. i mych prefer getting high to that. #it feels bad when i look atound and literally everyone else i know has lots of close friends. they make them so easily #and then im here and i cant even make 1 not close friend. but ill figure it out!!!!!

[whetstonefires]

You know what I realize that people underestimate with Pride & Prejudice is the strategic importance of Jane.

Because like, I recently saw Charlotte and Elizabeth contrasted as the former being pragmatic and the latter holding out for a love match, because she's younger and prettier and thinks she can afford it, and that is very much not what's happening.

The Charlotte take is correct, but the Elizabeth is all wrong. Lizzie doesn't insist on a love match. That's serendipitous and rather unexpected. She wants, exactly as Mr. Bennet says, someone she can respect. Contempt won't do. Mr. Bennet puts it in weirdly sexist terms like he's trying to avoid acknowledging what he did to himself by marrying a self-absorbed idiot, but it's still true. That's what Elizabeth is shooting for: a marriage that won't make her unhappy.

She's grown up watching how miserable her parents make one another; she's not willing to sign up for a lifetime of being bitter and lonely in her own home.

I think she is very aware, in refusing Mr. Collins, that it's reasonably unlikely that anyone she actually respects is going to want her, with her few accomplishments and her lack of property. That she is turning down security and the chance keep the house she grew up in, and all she gets in return may be spinsterhood.

But, crucially, she has absolute faith in Jane.

The bit about teaching Jane's daughters to embroider badly? That's a joke, but it's also a serious potential life plan. Jane is the best creature in the world, and a beauty; there's no chance at all she won't get married to someone worthwhile.

(Bingley mucks this up by breaking Jane's heart, but her prospects remain reasonable if their mother would lay off!)

And if Elizabeth can't replicate that feat, then there's also no doubt in her mind that Jane will let her live in her house as a dependent as long as she likes, and never let it be made shameful or awful to be that impoverished spinster aunt. It will be okay never to be married at all, because she has her sister, whom she trusts absolutely to succeed and to protect her.

And if something eventually happens to Jane's family and they can't keep her anymore, she can throw herself upon the mercy of the Gardeners, who have money and like her very much, and are likewise good people. She has a support network--not a perfect or impregnable one, but it exists. It gives her realistic options.

Spinsterhood was a very dangerous choice; there are reasons you would go to considerable lengths not to risk it.

But Elizabeth has Jane, and her pride, and an understanding of what marrying someone who will make you miserable costs.

That's part of the thesis of the book, I would say! Recurring Austen thought. How important it is not to marry someone who will make you, specifically, unhappy.

She would rather be a dependent of people she likes and trusts than of someone she doesn't, even if the latter is formally considered more secure; she would rather live in a happy, reasonable household as an extra than be the mistress of her own home, but that home is full of Mr. Collins and her mother.

This is a calculation she's making consciously! She's not counting on a better marriage coming along. She just feels the most likely bad outcome from refusing Mr. Collins is still much better than the certain outcome of accepting him. Which is being stuck with Mr. Collins forever.

Elizabeth is also being pragmatic. Austen also endorses her choice, for the person she is and the concerns she has. She's just picking different trade-offs than Charlotte.

Elizabeth's flaw is not in her own priorities; she doesn't make a reckless choice and get lucky. But in being unable to accept that Charlotte's are different, and it doesn't mean there's anything wrong with Charlotte.

Because realistically, when your marriage is your whole family and career forever, and you only get to pick the ones that offer themselves to you, when you are legally bound to the status of dependent, you're always going to be making some trade-offs.

😂 Even the unrealistically ideal dream scenario of wealthy handsome clever ethical Mr. Darcy still asks you to undergo personal growth, accommodate someone else's communication style, and eat a little crow.

#hoc est meum #pride and prejudice #elizabeth bennet #charlotte lucas #meta #charlotte is a much less sociable person than lizzie #so avoiding her husband most of the time and not seeking out his company is more viable for her! #she also has more patience for people being wrong #partly i think because she kinds checks out and lets them get on with it which lizzie isn't too great at even with her mother #people have different needs like that's a thing okay #marriage #spinsterhood #pragmatism #like if elizabeth had to listen to collins talk for a few months straight she would be nearly insane with rage #he's not just a low-quality man he's a man designed to be the worst for her specifically #also note that because jane's marriage is elizabeth's fallback plan #darcy screwed her over personally by interfering between her and bingley #she ofc does not bring this up how could she #but it's intensifying the anger during the hunsford rejection i think

[moonlesslights]

Two Idiots in Love

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warnings: Sex, P in V, choking, breeding kink, innuendos, Miguel it's fucking hard to talk to.

A/N: Hope you enjoy this, I haven't sleep well for three days trying to get it done, but it's finally here. Love y'all xoxox

━━━━━━✧❂✧━━━━━━

Ok, but what about you becoming an Spider just about a year ago?

You are managing just fine.

Things got nasty for a while, that’s true. Your uncle died, your new responsibilities caught up on you, you almost die fighting some bad guys on your first months… And now you just try to eat three times a day (sometimes it doesn’t happen), pray to get more than six hours of sleep and do good in college.

But then, out of fucking nowhere, just when you were making peace with what your life was now and who you are, your identity, your place in this big ass world where you were completely alone to bear this double life… This giant prick with sullen face and cheeks the size of the moon comes into your life to tell you you’re not alone, everyone here has experienced the same or worse, stop being so dramatic.

So, in a second, your protagonist moment turns to you finding out there were thousands like you out there. And your whole life goes upside down.

Because now you don’t have to protect and look out only for your Earth, your city; but everyone else’s too. You have to travel to the most craziest worlds you could’ve ever imagine and fight horrible creatures you couldn’t even conceive its existence. And to make things even worst, Mr. Wide Hindquarters took an special hold of you to help him out with anything he would be ‘to busy’ to do. Like inform new recruits about their missions, filling out reports, doing research either respecting to what he occupied in the laboratory or to some universe yet to be explored… Whatever he needed, you would be called in to do it.

Some Spiders told you you were lucky, not many could work that close to Miguel, let alone being in charge of so many things without screwing something up and getting ‘their head ripped’. Even Lyla tells you that you’re something special, specially on the hard days, that’s why Miguel trusts you so much. After that you would just smile tiredly at her, whispering it was okay. Then Lyla would go face Miguel and demand him with a raised eyebrow to give you a break.

You manage for a few months, surrendering yourself to this strange routine. And your even more strange companion.

Every day you walk in to his space, every day he is already there. You turn a personal mission to arrive before he does. You never make it. The man apparently didn’t sleep and you aren’t waking the fuck up at 3:00am to prove a point or find out. So you let it be as another mystery to be solved.

“Good morning.” You wave your hand at him, making your presence known with that. Sometimes between a yawn, sometimes still cleaning the sleepiness off of your eyes.

“Good morning…” He always adds your last name to his greetings. It makes you feel like you are being scolded. Most of the time he is at the tables, working through the screens; if he’s not there, he’s at the lab, measuring substances with the help of crystal clear instruments.

Without looking at you, he points with his chin to the steaming coffee under the express machine. Through the weeks he has learned exactly how you like it. The first ones he made you were exactly like his: Awful. That couldn’t be drinkable. But you thought it was nice of him to always have hot coffee for you, so you didn’t say anything. But the faces you made at every sip were worth a thousand words.

Now, as you drink today’s, you cannot avoid thinking how cute that big stoic man must look every morning pouring the exact amount of sugar and cream you like into the cup. Moving the liquid with a tiny spoon until is all mixed.

He doesn’t talk much.

No more than orders and “Go home” followed by a “Good night”. You let him be for the first weeks. Not your business. But after the first month you knew you would go crazy if you continued this way of living.

You needed to talk to him. You needed to make things less awkward. He was your only human contact sometimes for entire days, and you cannot stand the fact of barely talking to him.

You don’t have idea how does the term “coworkers” serves on his Earth, but in yours, Human Relationships are encouraged to happen for the sake of teamwork.

With that very idea well tangled on your mind, one of those long days, you take a deep breath, imagine him naked (which isn’t difficult to be honest), stare deep into the space and say:

“Sohowhaveyoubeen?” Squeaking as fast as you can.

Miguel stops whatever the hell he is doing and turns his head to the right, side eyeing you with a raised eyebrow. You don’t even look at him, continuing to fill the document in front of you with the most unstable smile he could have seen in his entire life. Then, he turns around again, coming back to typing into one of the screens. You almost think he has completely ignored you until he answers in another fast and neutral line:

“I’m good.”

You give him an acknowledging nod, smiling softly and returning to your duties.

You had never wished so much to be victim of a lost bullet. Like right now. Like right fucking now. Please.

For one more week you took another personal mission: making a question a day.

“How was your day?”, “Did you have breakfast?”, “How was yesterday’s mission?”… It would be a good day if you got more than a monosyllable for answer. It was embarrassing, really. And Lyla looking at you with a grimace made it ten times worst.

After that, you just came in the eighth day and remained silent, focused in finishing all your work as soon as possible rather than trying to make your prick boss to talk to you. You felt bad, actually. Maybe he just doesn't like to talk, maybe you were making him uncomfortable, maybe... Maybe he's just an arse. Yeah, that is probably the right...

"Hm? Uh, what... What is this?" You look up from your tablet, facing the broad of his back walking to the desk at the other side of the room. You raise an eyebrow at the small cardboard box in front of you, the one that Miguel just left there.

"Food." He says as answering the very question to the origin of the universe.

"For me?" You tilt your head and he looks at you like you were stupid. You frown. How were you supposed to know that, when he barely even looks at you?!

"I did too much." He explains. "... So I brought you some. You can throw it away if you don't want it."

You look down at the box again, watching it as the weirdest of things, and cannot help the little smile that creeps up to your lips. You knew Miguel didn't eat at the HQ cafeteria, since he owns an apartment close from here, so this was completely homemade. Hm, you never thought he was into cooking.

"Why can't I give it to someone else if I don't like it?" You respond with an easy smile, almost teasing him.

"Throw it." He sentences without even looking back at you.

You side eye Lyla at your left, who winks at you. This is a whole ass victory. And you and the little hologram girl knew internally Miguel did not like the day you decided to stop trying to talk to him.

"Thank you." You finally murmur. "I really appreciate it."

"It's just leftovers..."

You nod, pursing your lips and… Still smiling. Fuck it. It was obvious he was going to dismiss it with something like that.

None of you says anything else for the rest of the day, but you make the choice to keep trying on the small talk every day and Miguel, apparently, started to mess up the amount of ingredients for his meals and brings leftovers almost daily.

You continue with this new routine for another couple of weeks.

With the time passing, you gain more and more confidence to talk to the big guy. Most of the times he doesn’t engage in the conversation, it is just you saying your thoughts out loud and telling him everything about your life at college, 'till the point he has a personal beef with some of your classmates. I mean, he doesn’t say it but he surely grunts under his breath every time you mention their name.

Gwen did asked you at some point if he really listened to you or if he just... Left you. You wondered the same for exactly... two hours.

"... And I handed him my essay, right? And he looks at me and says: 'So are you going to tell me who is helping you with these or am I going to find out myself?' So I obviously told him nobody was helping me, I just like doing them. And he freaking threatened me saying that if he founds out he's going to fail me. Like... He doesn't even listens. Agh, he hates me..."

"Is the same one who got angry because you were late to his lecture about himself and his recently published book?" That was a week ago. And he remembered.

You nod, sighing. Miguel clicks his tongue, shaking his head with disapproval.

He might not be talkative (at least for now) but he listens to you. You have no doubt left about that. He may not say a single word while you drop a hundred for minute, but he would come the next day asking "How was the test?" or would know you have classes with that professor and add to his daily good night a soft "Good luck tomorrow." You even start catching him lifting the left corner of his lips when you drop a bad joke about all the things you need to get done by the end of the day or about something you heard on your way there.

You noticed it when certain Spider came in to a meeting, a Spider two days ago you and Miguel had gossiped about because you were told something by your friends on Wednesday, Miguel heard some more on Thursday and with a final comment you put the pieces together on Friday, looking at him with a wide proud open mouth as he shook his head with a soft chuckle. Talking to the Spider in question Miguel would turn to you with the most neutral and blank expression and you would still fight to hide your smile at the memory of everything you found out during the week. No one ever noticed and you liked it. Miguel liked it. It was like a private joke only the two of you could share.

"But what would happen?" This was the part Miguel didn't like. "Like, how would you know I would fuck up something?"

"You cannot give Noir a kaleidoscope." He sentences, giving you another raised eyebrow.

You were in the middle of the daily session of Instructive and Informative questions, according to Lyla and you. Miguel prefers to call them Destructive and Irritating.

After today's mission you had taken a particular soft spot fo the black and white Spider, to the misfortune of your boss. So the whole session has been about the long shot of taking special gifts from your dimension to him.

"But why? Really, what's the worst that could happen if I just give him a tiny little kaleidoscope?"

"Ay, Dios, dame paciencia... You already gave him a rainbow slinky spring toy, why do you keep insisting on gifting him more stuff?"

He fix his gaze on you as you lower your eyes down to your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. "... He just looks happy when he sees color."

Miguel sighs, pressing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

"I know, but every one of us needs to respect the natural order of our Earth. He shouldn't keep taking things with him that shouldn't be there, do you understand?"

"But..."

"No more 'but's'. I want those reports done by the end of the day." Miguel returns his eyes back to the screen in front of him, dismissing you just with that action. "Get to work instead of keep losing our time with this."

He hates the way you comply to his orders. Hates the way you leave the space beside him empty to go working at the other side of the room, where he can only see your back. He hates when you refuse him to see your face.

The human part in him hates the questioning sessions because they always end up with your heart too big for your own good, crushed a little bit more. The human part in him is what brings him closer to you after a few minutes, talking you through some trivial topics until he can convince you it is all not as bad a it seems, until you smile again when you insist it's okay, that you just needed a minute, that you understand. And he might o might not tell you can give Noir that fucking kaleidoscope if you want it so much.

But some deep and primal part in him whispers into his veins to walk up to you, take you by your jaw, forcing you to look up at him and order you you better not refuse your face to him one more single time again. That if he wishes to see your eyes, the curve of your nose or your lips, you better fucking show them to him... Every day. Every. Time. He. Wants. To.

He gets frustrated when he catches himself in the middle of those thoughts, of the drives. He has been able to control it magnificently 'till now. But he fears the day he won't.

For another while you enjoyed the 'leftovers' brought to you too. But it also came to happen the one day, they stopped being leftovers:

You yawn as you make your way to the exit of the lab, making sure your alarm for tomorrow is correctly scheduled, you can not afford another harsh look from your professors one more time. The building has fallen silent already; most of its ordinary inhabitants have already retired to their rooms or to their home worlds.

Miguel walks up to you from behind, watching you standing at the door. Neither of them managed to see even a ray of sun today. He didn't care, he had something much better to watch all day… But he can't help but sigh at the thought of taking it from you.

"Italian or Mexican?" You turn to look at him, barely catching what he said. Both of your brows furrow and he glares at you while adjusting the neck of his jacket on. "For tomorrow's lunch. You want me to bring Italian or Mexican?"

"Oh, uhm..." You widen your eyes, surprised by the consideration. Pursing your lips and squinting, you think about it for a second, but the only possible answer comes immediately after: "Mexican."

"Hm." He nods, fixing his eyes to the front again.

Both start walking now towards the exit of the building. You know you can open your portal to go back home now, but you refuse to do so. Miguel knows there's an exit on the other side of the lab that leads him to a closer path to his apartment, but he refuses to take it. Because you always take this one.

"It's getting chilly." You whisper, watching the first snowflakes of the season falling on the other side of the big windows in the lobby. Miguel hums in response. "I like it, though. The first month working with you I had to carry a fan with me everywhere. I am so sorry for the cost of the electricity bill back then."

Miguel tugs at one corner of his lips, but only that. You tilt your head, glaring at him for a second before you take two fast steps to put yourself in front of him. The poor man has to stick his feet to the floor to avoid knocking over you.

He frowns, confused, and you look up at him with those same eyes filled with determination you put on when you look at the cookies he always -purposely- leaves on top of the highest cupboard in his office. He could only describe it as the face of a master plan, because you would always come back with ideas to get them down without asking him for help. And he loved to play guess with what you would do this time.

"Smile for me." You ask as you were some kind of cameraman, and if he was confused before he's into a new level now.

"What?"

"Y'know..." You bring both of your index fingers to the opposite sides of your face and part your own lips into a simple smile, like showing him what he was supposed to do.

"I know what smiling is." He frowns. "Why do you want me to do it?"

You shrug. "I just... I would be really happy to see it."

Miguel's expression remains unfazed, but he prays to every God out there you can't listen how hard his heart jumped inside his chest when your words reached him.

He swallows. His eyes fix on you and he brings both of the corners of his mouth up, exposing bright teeth and two big fangs that brush on his lower lip in the most precious awkward smile you could have ever seen. His brows are drawn together and he looks like he's in pain, and you know that even if a fucking meteor crashed down in the city right now, you still wouldn't be able to look away.

You clear your throat and lament how his smile is gone as soon as it came. You brush your hand at the back at your neck, nervous, fucking ashamed of your imprudence. Miguel raises an eyebrow at your reaction.

"Thank you. That was nice of you." You smile, avoiding his eyes and solely focusing on the snow awaiting for you. "I'm sorry if it was unpleasant for you. I didn't mean..."

Your words get caught up in your throat when you suddenly feel the texture of fabric coming around your neck. You turn back to look at the front again only to find Miguel tugging his scarf on you, with his fingers making sure it hugged every part of your skin your sweater couldn't.

"Miguel, no. It's even colder here than on my Earth. You need this more than I do." You frown with a worried expression washing over your features.

"You'll come back tomorrow pretty early. And it's going to be cold." You could try and argue about you having your own scarfs to bring tomorrow with you, but his eyes tell you he is not asking.

"... Thank you."

Miguel laments the moment your turn around, laments the moment you don't look at him anymore. He is sure the smile from a minute ago hadn't been anywhere near one of his best, and yet your eyes shone with the light of all the moons he's seen in all of the Earths he has visited.

And as you do a little wave when you start walking away before entering your portal, Miguel waves back, slowly and with only two unsure swings of his wrist. It was enough to make you smile anyway. It was enough to keep him standing there even after you were long gone wondering what the hell he was doing.

When Miguel began to bring food made specially to share, you began to bring desserts from your Earth for him to try.

You both started having lunch together after you told him how tired you were of eating while standing. Don't get me wrong, when you first told him he 'offered' you to go eat at the cafeteria if you wanted it so much. But when he dismisses you for the second time the next day with a 15 minute break to go find somewhere to sit, you, instead, sit down reluctantly at the very center of his work space, just a few meters behind him.

Miguel has to do a fucking double take to make sure he is seeing right before turning around at you calmly crossing your legs on the floor and unboxing today's meal with abrupt and resigned movements.

"Could you be so kind as to explain to me what you are doing?" He tilts his head with amusement when you take the first bite of your food.

"Eating."

"Sitting on the floor?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Sitting on the floor." You nod.

"Care to explain why?" He crosses his arms, pursing his lips when you refuse to raise your eyes at him.

"... Because of you." You murmur, taking another unnecessarily aggressive bite.

"Elaborate, please."

You keep on looking down, chewing the morsel in your mouth. Miguel awaits for you with well known experienced patience. By now, he recognizes when you are mad at him or the world, he sees how you fight to keep calm inside of all of this mess, that's why he always tries to encourage you to talk out the things that bother you, because he's there, he can listen; because he likes the way you smile after you let it all out.

And maybe...

"I don't care about eat sitting comfortably at the cafeteria. I want to eat with you. So if you want to stay here be my fucking guest. I'm staying here too."

Because you were the only one who could throw a tantrum at Miguel O'Hara without flinching.

You have earned that right. You didn't know when, because you insist you don't throw tantrums at him; you're a college student, basically an adult, you don't do tantrums. And still...

"Fine, spoiled girl..." He sighs, walking to get his own little box from the table and then coming to close the space between the two with a few long steps. He sits down right beside you, imitating the way you're crossing your legs. "If you want to eat on the floor, we can eat on the floor."

"I'm not spoiled." You hiss, giving him a deadly side eye that puts on a soft, almost unnoticeable grin on his face. Lyla had made fun of him a few days ago about him spoiling you, but instead of getting on his nerves he took a liking for the nickname. And now you suffer the consequences of it all. "And we wouldn't be eating on the floor if you decided to go to the cafeteria for once."

"... I hate talking to people."

You sigh, nodding. That's exactly why you never push him to do anything of that sort.

"I know." You turn to look at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how he keeps his head low while eating. "Hey" You call for his attention, smiling. He blinks up to you, tilting his head. "It's okay." Your shoulder drops to his arm. "I like being here. I'm not stuck with you, you're stuck with me."

That makes his eyes catch a little bit more of light.

"Thank you." He whispers.

You stare at him for a second more and he fights to put all of the mess inside his head, his feelings, into his tongue... But he can't. You continue eating, and he knows you would never hold a grudge on him for it, and he's so thankful for that, for you being able to understand the way his actions speak when his words can't. But he still aches at the thought of never being able to tell you everything he wants.

The next morning you walk in to find out a new cleared space beside the screens with an elegant glass table and two chairs. It surely looked expensive, like everything he does and has, but for you, it's just the little corner where you can leave that particular cake from your Earth he seems to like so much, and then go to the laboratory to see the cake you seemed to like so much.

After two more weeks enjoying the day-to-day in the usual things in your life, you and Miguel got to a mission which revealed as the true calmness before the storm.

The anomaly you had fought was stronger than expected, more aggressive, more letal. Everyone had run lucky at least two times to escape from its claws, but you can still remember their closeness, the screams, the sirens at the distance. It all almost ends up with another canonic event altered.

"There's always a first time." Jessica had told you when you finally finished off the anomaly. She was worried about you, and you can't blame her. You haven't even registered how bad you were trembling until it was all over.

"Is there going to be a last time?" You replied, looking up at her with big eyes. And Miguel, only a few meters behind you, still trying to give some last orders to every Spider there, felt his heart breaking at the very sound of your words.

Nevertheless, thankfully, the universe remained perfectly fine and just a couple of hours later everyone was back home safely again. Most returned immediately to their Home Earths, but you, Miguel, Jessica, Lyla and a couple more had ten thousand things to do in the HQ before calling it a day.

"I thought I told you to go home an hour ago." Miguel points, coming from behind you.

You turn your head to look up at him and you can't not smile at the sight. The feeling of safeness that floods you when you see his huge figure entering any room hasn't wavered for a single second. He's still that solid ground you can always rest on when the world is to heavy to carry alone.

"I'm serious. What are you doing here?" He continues, grunting in pain when he drops his weight beside you. You turn to him, furrowing your brows in worry again. He had seen that expression in you so often today... And he hates it so much. "I'm okay. Just little scratches here and there."

You withdrawn your feet from the edge of the building where you had them hanging for an hour now and crawl your way to him, sitting down on your knees to try to be eye height with him.

Your right hand wanders to his bruised neck, there where the anomaly had left his horrible mark of the violence it brought within. You follow with your index the way the clotted blood draws on his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

"Does it hurt?" You ask.

"No." He responds in between goosebumps.

He loves the effect your touch has on him. He loves your little hands looking for him, tugging at his clothes to call for his attention, brushing against his when you pass him the tablet, documents, anything. He loves the busy days where he doesn't have time to eat, where he wouldn't eat if it wasn't for you sitting beside him as he works on the screens, you scrolling through your cellphone, taking little pieces of food with a spoon or a fork to bring them closer to his mouth so he could eat without even taking his eyes off the screen.

Ridiculous? Yeah. But he loved the intimacy within. The many forms your soft hands could soothe him.

But his? He hated them. He was scared of them. Their only use was to destruct, to tear flesh apart, not to...

"Show me." He asks, pointing with his chin at your left hand placed softly above your thigh.

"It's nothing."

"Let me see it." He insist and you carefully bring your arm up, placing your fingers against his when he holds out his hand for you. Your whole palm is bandaged, the work the doctor did on you was amazing, but he can still see dried blood on it.

He doesn't say anything when he finds your eyes on him, conflicted, hesitant. There is so much between both of you, so much unsaid, so much still to do. But he sees your doubt, he hates to be the cause of it. He stays still, but he wants to scream at you, to make your little head understand: "How can't you see?! Can't you see how much you mean to me?! You're the only thing in my mind when I'm fighting, because I know I have to win, I have to get out alive to see you again. Eres lo único por lo que mi corazón llama!... Can't you not hear it?"

Instead, the tips of his fingers brush on your skin, his eyes reflecting every single light of the city below.

"Come." It's only a whisper that leaves his mouth, and you need nothing more to jump into his embrace with a desperate sigh, immediately cuddling yourself up on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, looking for his warm.

Hold.

He loves to hold you.

His hands serve to hold you.

To hold you against him, to protect you from anyone who wants to rip you away from his arms. To keep you warm, to keep you safe, to let you know you're home.

"Aquí estoy." He whispers.

"I know." You reply.

You breath into his scent for a couple of minutes more, until the screams and the sirens fell low to the sound of Miguel's chest going up and down in a soothing swing, his breathing, turning into the only thing you could listen to.

By the time you got your head out of his neck, he was already waiting for you with a soft smile, smile that puts your attention on the deep cut on his lower lip.

"What happened?" You ask, carefully pulling from his flesh to see the whole extension of the wound.

He sighs, closing his eyes with embarrassment. "I bit myself during the fight."

You smile, shaking your head. Your fingernail taps against the right fang in question, testing the edge by gently pressing the tip into your fingertip.

"I hate them." Miguel breaths out. His eyes are now so dim that you struggle to say where are they looking at in the middle of the night darkness.

"Why?" You whisper, taking your finger back at his lip.

"Because I fear of them. I fear they'll hurt you like they hurt me."

You purse your lips and then take his hand placed on your hip, looking back at him with raised eyebrows.

"Is the same with these?"

He nods.

"They are made to kill. I have done so many horrible things with, caused so much damage and pain, I..."

"Did you know I'm scared of heights?" His trail of words stop at your interruption. You smile, looking down from the edge, turning away form him just a little. "Ironic, for a Spider. But I still fight with it every single day. I always get so sticky when I'm on top of a building for too long it's embarrassing but..." You raise your hand in front of him, waving your fingers with a playful smile. "I'm not sticky now. And that it's because you're holding me." You cup his face. "Those things you're afraid of, are part of the person I love. And I wouldn't change a single thing."

"Mi cielo..."

"I knew what I was getting into when I decided to love you, Miguel, so don't get all soft now. I'm not going anywhere..." You whisper. "Make me bleed."

He would be lying if he said he haven't thought about it, that he haven't succumbed to his most animalistic urges when alone in the privacy of his room, pretending it was you around his cock and not his fist. He wanted to bite, he wanted to fill you. And he wanted to tear apart with his bare talons anyone and anything that got in his way.

A part of him might be scared to hurt you, yes.

But a bigger part of him was actually scared of what he would do to keep you safe. Of what he's capable of... to keep you his.

He feels sorry for you when you cuddle against his chest in your sleep as he stands up and starts walking back inside the building, covering you with his jacket to protect from the cold wind of the city for when he swings back to his apartment with you in his arms.

He feels sorry for the innocence in your love.

Like a beast, that's what he was. A beast who loved the softness in your touch, the kind in your words. But cannot return the same love. The beast is possessive, jealous of the very air that caresses your hair. And it may act vulnerable only to you, letting you get as close to slaughter him, but knowing you'll place a kiss instead. The beast would hold you as his own treasure, a creature that must not be hurt, not even for his own hands. He would cut them off before.

He would cut them off from anyone before they touch you. For no one should ever touch what he decided, that very morning you asked how he had been, would belong to him.

AND EVERYTHING WOULD HAVE CONTINUED ON GOING SO SMOOTHLY... BUT THE DAAAAAAAAMN FINALS, ah, made their entrance.

You barely have time to sleep, to eat, to fucking breathe. Your levels of anxiety are higher than the HQ damn building and your brain is so overworked you cannot do more than what you're asked to in autopilot. You know that you're only going to be like this for approximately another two weeks, but your poor lover has suffered the last four days thinking you're sick, or sad, or worse... Mad at him. No, not in that order.

"Arañita..." He calls for you. Your hand moving over your notebook at one hundred km per hour concerns him.

"The reports are done. Peter from -5266 and Hugh from -1993 are out right now. They should be getting back at any minute. Anomaly #125 was sent to its original universe this morning." You push the tablet to him with your free hand without even looking up or slowing down your writing.

"Thank you, but..." He tilts his head, furrowing his brows. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I just need to get this done before four. By the way, can I leave early today? I need to study for tomorrow's test."

"Again? Didn't you have one yesterday?"

"Yes. We're on finals, Miguel. We tend to have a lot of them these days. That's why I'm losing my mind over here."

"Just for some tests?" You have to stop yourself to remind you it's not his fault to be smart. It's not his fault being more intelligent than almost every person you knew. It's not his fault he doesn't know what is to struggle on school. It's not his fault, It's not his fault, It's not his fault... "You haven't even touched your food." He says, looking at the little box he got you with the meal now cold.

"I... I know. I'm sorry, Mig." You sigh, looking up at him for the first time in the day. "I'm just really stressed out right now. But I promise I'll take it back home later, okay?"

This was also the fourth day you didn't stay at his place. My man doesn't want to be a burden, but he has attachment issues, ok?, and after the week you spent sleeping in his arms, it may or may not be that Miguel has been having trouble falling asleep without the weight of your body on his chest.

After watching you leave that day, Miguel found himself staying till unreasonable hours of the early morning working in the lab. There was no point on going back to his cold apartment anyway... And he had a lot of things to get done. He didn't have time to...

"Oh, it's you." Miguel jumps in his place at the sudden voice calling from behind. "I thought that poor girl had stayed here, with all the things she seems to be doing these days."

The man shakes his head, ignoring Jessica closing the distance behind him, leaning against the door frame. Miguel can almost make out the little smile on her lips without turning around, and that only infuriates him even more.

"And why do you look like a caged lion?" She mocks. "Trouble in paradise?"

Miguel's first instinct is snap back at her and ask her to leave him alone. He knows she would comply, what he doesn't know is how benefic that would be for his current situation.

"I don't know what's going out with her." He admits, letting his head fall in irritation. "She says she's having some tests right now, but she's just to... Stressed? I don't know. She's so smart I cannot conceive how bad this is affecting her." The laugh that emanates from Jessica's throat makes his ears go red. "What?"

"Oh, babe, when was the last time you went to college?" Jessica puts both of her hands on her waist, pursing the lips to avoid smiling again.

"Why is that important?"

"When, Miguel?" She demands.

"Ugh... I don't know. Like four-five years ago."

"When was the last time you failed a class?"

"Never." He immediately responds.

"When was the last time grades were important on your Earth?"

Miguel frowns. "I don't remember. The path for learning had changed long before I was born. I don't even think I ever had something like a grade. We were judged individually for our skills and our intelligence type. Not memorization."

"Exactly." She claps, pointing at him with a all-knowing finger. "Thanks to that you got the chance to develop your true abilities as a student, but our girl from 2023 it is not beneficiary of this privilege. She doesn't get the chance to strengthen in what she is good, she must memorize and memorize and memorize over and over again. Because the tests on her Earth aren't done with the purpose of just checking how is her knowledge progressing, they are done to see if she's worthy of continuing forward in her very career."

Miguel remains silent for a minute, swallowing all the new information by pieces. For someone so smart, Jessica has never see him seem so lost. The nuts in his brain begin to turn and turn until his eyes seem to light up with the clarity of the light of the new world.

"Hm." He nods. "Thank you."

The woman knows he doesn't need anything more when he turns around, typing into one of the screens something that escapes from her eyes.

During the rest of the two weeks of finals, Miguel tried to do his best to support you.

He even read all of the information about your education system, striving to understand everything in just a couple of nights.

He's a man on a mission: letting you know he's there, that you're strong and smart, and you can do it.

While you study in the lab, he leaves you be. He gets you coffee, or tea, or anything you prefer. He might even hiss at people entering his space (your space) making too much noise, pointing at you with his chin and threatening eyes.

"Hey, girl..." Peter B. comes in one morning, moving nervously under the scrutinizing gaze of your lover. "Don't be so harsh on yourself..." He gives you some awkward pats on the back, smiling. "You're doing great."

That was all it took.

"No, I'm not!" You weep, letting your head fall on the desk, shaking between sobs.

"Great. Ya la hiciste llorar." Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Here, give it to her." He calls for Peter's attention, handing him an specific chocolate.

Peter takes it with confused eyes, offering it to you, reaching out his arm as if he were to touch you, you'll explode.

"Here." He says. "Look what I got."

You raise your eyes, meeting the little packing. Then, when you look at him, Peter almost thinks he just made all worst.

"Oh, Peter... Thank you!" You take the chocolate, pulling from him to a big hug. "I love these so much, thank you! You're so kind!"

Peter lets you be, looking back at Miguel who just nods at him to let him know this wasn't his first rodeo. He pats your back, soothing you with some more nervous words until you're ready to let him go.

If you're really struggling, Miguel won't think twice to help you. He's smart, it takes him nothing more than a look to his old notes or a quick search on the internet (specially if you're studying something science related or an engineering, if you're on law or arts, oh boy, you're gonna make this man suffer) to know exactly what you need and make sure you're taking that fucking project tomorrow.

Some other days, he just catches you sleeping with your hands crossed above the table and your saliva drooling out to your notes. His jacket would then come over you, after, he would take your pending stuff and start solving problems and making notes for you to have it easier at the memorizing part of the study.

You always wake up to see the edges of your paper full of arrows, little equations and encircled key words. And, sometimes, a tired Miguel sleeping uncomfortably by your side, just waiting for you to tell him it's time to go.

The day, a Friday, where you're finally done with college (at least for a couple of months) Miguel felt it like the day his soul came back to his body.

You are smiling all day again, calling his name, doing a mess all over the whole building. And he can not be more happy about it.

He might never tell you, me might even justify himself saying he had been staying up late working in the lab every time you ask for the bags under his eyes. Because he's definitely not telling you there were nights where he couldn't even close his eyes 'cause you weren't there with him.

"Time to go home." You hum behind him, getting all of your stuff inside your backpack.

"Thank God" He rubs his neck, walking closer to you to give you a soft kiss on the forehead. "I'm dying."

You yawn, nodding. "Me too. These weeks drained me."

"Me too." He repeats, and you don't know how much he means it. "Let's just go to sleep, yeah? Hopefully tomorrow there won't be so much to do."

You smile, leaning into his embrace as you walk out the door, hearing the lights turning off as both come closer and closer to the exit.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Miguel steadies your body by pressing down on your hips, keeping your ass on the bed. You try to push his face out of between your thighs but he refuses to pull apart.

"Miguel!" You cry out, tears rolling down your cheeks cause of the overstimulation he was putting you in. "Too much, too much..."

His fingers curl inside you one more time, and your arch your back, almost rolling your eyes at the feeling. His tongue flicks over your sensitive bud again, dragging choked moans out of you. You try to squirm away but his hands pull you from your ass back at him as soon as you start moving.

"Easy there, Arañita. I'm almost done." He smiles up at you, letting you see the lower half of his face completely covered in your arousal.

"Mig... Mi amor..." You breath out, trying to push him out again when his chuckle crashes against your folds.

"One more, love, and you'll be ready for me." He sucks on your clit as he speaks, moving his fingers with an slower pace now. "Uno más, mamita, dame uno más."

He pushes his face down on you, working his tongue all around your most needy spot with his digits burying now deep inside you, hitting that soft place between your walls that makes you want to cry. You're a mess of moans and whimpers by now, but when his teeth slowly press on your clit, it's over for you. Your eyes roll back, your thighs tremble around him, encaging him in his favorite prison as he guides you through it, moaning into your skin when he feels your pleasure dripping on him, motivating his hips to hump against the mattress as a fucking teenager would do.

After you get down from your high, you look up at him to find him positioning himself between your legs, dragging the tip of his cock up and down on your folds.

"Miguel, wait, I'm..."

"You know your safe word, mamita, you can make me stop whenever you want." He places your legs on his shoulders and his hands on your hips, keeping you just as he wishes to. "I'm going in, and I want your eyes on me all the time I fuck you, ¿me entiendes, hermosa?"

You nod, watching the point where both of your bodies would join. He enters slowly, giving you time to adjust his size. But after the first hint of your hips trying to feel him even more, he pulls back and thrusts all the way in, making your head fall back as your back arches.

His right hand grabs you by the jaw, forcing you to open your eyes and observe how red his irises had turned.

"Eyes on me."

His pace speeds up, bottoming out with every thrust he makes. Your hands push at his lower abdomen, biting your lip to avoid crying out loud again.

"Too fast, Mig. Too much." You moan, your still overstimulated clit rips another whimper from you every time his happy trail and trimmed hair crashes against it. You were barely holding on, but your lover can't never get enough. His body reaches down, and as he places one hand around your neck, his other thumb toys at your clit in a excruciating pace. "Fuck! No, Miguel."

You tremble under him, wrapping your legs around his waist when you cannot think about anything more than cumming. Your nails bury on the skin of his back, dragging an out of breath grunt out of him.

"I'm, I'm cum-" You try to voice but nothing in your brain seems to work anymore.

"Do it, love. I got you." He keeps up his pace, almost kissing your cervix by now. "Cum for me, mi amor."

His hand squeezes a little bit harder on your neck and you need nothing else to see fucking white. Your mouth opens in a big O before your start trembling, shaking uncontrollably under his body, letting out the sweetest of sounds for him to hear.

He grunts, falling into the crock of your neck when you tighten your walls around him.

"I'm going to fucking fill you." He's out of breath and he curses something in Spanish you cannot make out. "I'm going to put a baby on your tummy, mamita..."

"Miguel..." You were on the verge of tears again, you cannot longer feel your legs but you surely can feel him deep inside you.

"Yes, love. Fuck... I'm cumming. I'm..." He bites down on your flesh, sinking his fangs into your skin when his hips stutter. His talons grow so big they dig into the headboard.

You moan at the feeling, hugging your body to his until he can breath normal again.

When he looks back at you his eyes have returned to that soft brown you're used too.

"Are you okay?" He asks, sending shivers down your spine when he caresses the sore skin.

"Yes." You smile and he traps your lips into a kiss. "And now I'm really fucking tired."

He chuckles, lifting his weight onto his forearms.

"Come here, amor. Let's take a shower so you can rest comfortably." He places another soft peck on your forehead. "I'll wash your hair."

You definitely know he will do more than that.

PD: Tbh with you guys, all I could think about while writing this was this tiktok:

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara fluff #miguel ohara smut #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #atsv #peter b parker

[claypgeon]

two lonely friends | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x journalist!reader

summary: lando norris has two lonely best friends. he gets an idea, why not set them up?

f1wags: y/n l/n, landos bestfriend was seen entering the monaco grand prix paddock today!

view comments below!

user1: OH BROTHER

user2: free my girl y/n 🗣️

user3: the day y/n stops getting referred to as “landos bestfriend” is the day i can REST

user4: landos bestfriend?? sorry i only know y/n l/n f1 journalist ??

user5: y’all do this every race 🙄 OFC SHES THERE. THATS HER JOB.

user6: she’s such a moocher

user7: she’s literally there to do HER JOB ??

user8: it’s crazy how after a year of oscar being in f1, we still haven’t gotten a y/n and oscar interaction ???

user9: y/n, our comfort outfit queen

ynandlandocontent: my favorite snippet of landos and y/ns interview 🧡

view comments below!

user10: ugh them ☹️☹️

user11: literally just make out already

user12: the very best FRIENDS

user13: she’s so unprofessional 💀

user14: this wasn’t even part of the interview 😭 this was just a blooper 🙄

user15: OKAY BUT Y/N FINALLY GOT TO INTERVIEW OSCAR ???

user16: ugh i love them so much 😞

user17: lando and y/n shippers where ???

user18: HERE 🙋‍♂️

oscarpastyupdates: y/n interviewing oscar today!

view comments below!

user19: oscar “but um” piastri everyone!

user20: FINALLY SOME Y/N x OSCAR CONTENT !!

user23: why do i ship…

user24: they literally only talked once 😭😭

user23: okay let me BEEE

user25: guys did you see how hard he was blushing, or am i just crazy ???

user26: they literally want each other SO BAD

user27: i can feel the tension through the screen

user28: ok so do i ship lando x y/n or oscar x y/n

— one day later !

ynupdates: queen y/n was seen out last night by multiple fans! she looks beautiful!

view comments below!

user29: HELLOOO ???? IS THAT NOT OSCAR

user30: ARE WE JUST GOING TO PRETEND THAT THAT IS NOT OSCAR PIASTRI ???

user31: omg oscar stole landos girl

user32: landos girl ???

user33: wait i like this

user34: i love how the caption doesn’t mention oscar at ALL

user35: let them cook 🔥🔥

user36: okay oscar i see you 👀

user37: i wonder how lando feels about this..

liked by charles_leclerx, yourusername, landonorris, and 673,928 others!

lando.jpg: happy birthday to my little sister! you’re ancient now 😞 here’s to many more birthdays together!

view comments below!

user38: aw ☹️

user39: okay guys i’m crying

user40: lando ALWAYS eats with his birthday captions

user41: i wonder if landos ex’s had ever felt intimidated by y/n

user42: y/n has said that she has never not gotten along with landos gfs, so there’s that!

user43: okay now kiss

user44: i still ship idc

user45: her and lando ✅ her and oscar ❌

yourusername: ugh lando you love me so much, it’s disgusting

lando.jpg: i will take away your present.

yourusername: NO IM SORRY

liked by, mclaren, landonorris, oscarpiastri and 873,928 others!

yourusername: and who’s gonna pay attention to the redheads of the world?

pic credits: some kid named oscar ??

view comments below!

user46: OKAY OKAY OKAY

user47: ugh you look so good 😔

user48: OSCAR IN THE CAPTION ??? WE ARE SO BACK !!!

user49: happy birthday queen !!

user50: happy birthday 🧡🧡

user51: oscar and y/n hard launch when ???

oscarpiastri: ME I’LL PAY ATTENTION TO THE REDHEADS OF THE WOLRD !!! I WILL !!

user52: okay oscar let’s calm down..

user53: oh he’s down bad

user54: who needs more confirmation then THIS ??

liked by maxverstappen1, mclaren, landonorris, and 873,928 others!

oscarpiastri: happy birthday to my best friend, and the most beautiful lady in the world 🧡

view comments below!

landonorris: bestfriend?

landonorris: oh okay

landonorris: cool cool cool

landonorris: yeah that’s chill

landonorris: totally NOT going to brust out into tears rn

landonorris: hahaha

landonorris: that would be stupid

landonorris: cool cool cool

landonorris: okay okay okay

landonorris: i set you two up and you just completely forget about me huh

landonorris: wow i can’t believe this

landonorris; i’m going to die alone

landonorris; alone and sad

landonorris: FUCK YOU GUYS

user55: let’s all just move pass lando having a mental breakdown…

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri social media au #f1 x female driver #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 social media au

[peachesofteal]

Light on - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader

Morning comes with dark regret. 

Light tries to fight past his curtains, luxurious slivers of sun peeking through the edges, casting sharp beams across his face. It’s what wakes him, at first, gently bringing him to consciousness, easing him into reality- before memory slaps him across the face. 

Fuck. Did he dream that? Was that real? 

He tries, for a barely there moment, to pretend that it was a nightmare. That he didn’t shut you out, turn you away from his door, sweet, beautiful face smiling up at him, timid offering on your lips. 

“Thought we could, um, try this again?” 

His stomach sours when he remembers the way your shy expression shattered, how you faltered, confused and… hurt. He hurt you. He took your trust, your precious heart, and smashed it to pieces because he was afraid. Because he couldn’t let you see. 

His reflection in the bathroom mirror makes him sick. 

Fucked up nose, fucked up face, fucked up, cruel, awful person. 

Maybe he's more like him than he realizes.

How could he have done that to you? To you. The one person in this entire world that makes him feel warm, that makes him want something more, that gives him hope. His girl. 

He knows why, of course. He didn’t want you to see him, didn’t want you to know what it was like. Wanted to shield you from it, keep you and Emmaline tucked away in the space inside his heart, where you're safe. Where you don't realize how much of a monster he is. Didn’t want you to witness the come down, the decompression, the shedding of his skin post mission. Didn’t want you to know that he’s not always the man you think he is, the one you know, the one you trust to hold your baby and take you to the hospital and eat dinner in your kitchen. He didn’t want to shatter the illusion, didn’t want to step out from behind the lie. He wasn’t ready for it to be over yet. 

Because what would you have done, if you met Ghost? If you realized that your neighbor is a professional killer? A war criminal? Sure, he told you what he does for a living, but he didn’t tell you that much. And fuck. He couldn’t just let you in his flat. He hadn’t even showered, hadn’t gotten all the grease off his face. He still had blood under his fingernails, men’s dying screams echoing in his ears. How could he let that touch you? How could he let any of that, be anywhere near you? 

You and Emmaline would be far better off if he stayed in the shadows. Kept an eye on you, kept you safe, but kept his distance. A good man, a better man, would spare you the pain, the heartbreak, of bringing something like him into your life. 

The problem is, Simon’s never been a good man. 

He tries calling you. When it goes to voicemail, he hangs up, rolling over in bed, burying his face in his pillow. He keeps himself tucked under his blankets, sleep desperately pulling at him, trying to drag him into the black abyss of his dreams and when the minutes tick by and you don’t call him back… he begrudgingly succumbs to the cocoon of sleep. 

He calls again, later, as the sun is setting. You don’t answer, and he tells himself you’re probably busy, busy getting Emmaline and you fed, busy trying to settle her for bedtime. Busy ignoring him. He strains to listen through the walls, hoping to catch the muffled sound of your voice, or the TV, Emma’s cries or giggles, a sign of some kind. A sign that he should try again. Call you again. Knock on your door. 

He hears you in the hall an hour later.

Emmaline is crying, and you’re trying to soothe her, low pitch of your “shhh, shhh, shhh” slipping under his door and down the hall to where he’s pacing in the living room. He bolts to his front door, swinging through the frame, turning towards where you’ve got her in a wrap against your chest, backpack straps looped through your arm.  “Shit!” You yelp, eyes wide. Emmaline startles against you, cheeks wet with tears, and then she quiets, mouth hanging open. “Jesus. You scared me.” You’re fidgeting with your keys, fingers clenched just a little too tight around the ring. 

“Sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” You smile at him, but it’s all wrong, the kind of smile you might give a stranger, someone you only know in passing. His stomach flips. 

“I tried calling, earlier, uh- are you two… busy?” Let me explain, sweetheart. Please. I’m so sorry. 

“She’s overdue for a bottle,” You motion to Emma, who’s now gazing at him with a sweet little smile, tears evaporated. “and she’s got a tooth pushing through, so it’s been a really long day.” You sound exhausted, and look it too, shifting your weight, stretching with a bit of a wince, and he frowns. Is your back hurting you? Is it your neck? Where is the stroller? 

“Do you need some help?” C’mon love. I know I hurt you, let me explain. Please. Let me help. You need me. I need you. He takes a step towards you, longing practically dragging him by force into your orbit, but your face twists, and you move backwards, away from him. 

His heart cracks in his chest. No. Please.

“Ah, no. I got it, no worries.” No worries. No worries? “With the teething, she’s… I’ll try to keep her quiet. Just let me know if she’s too loud or if it’s a problem.”  

“It’s not a problem.” He rushes to reassure you. “Of course it’s not, sweetheart. I… if you have some time, later… I want to talk to you, about last night, I-“ 

“Oh, it’s fine. Don’t even worry about it.” You wave him off, eyes tight, lip tugged between your teeth. Emmaline lets out a small cry, just the beginning of a wail, and you sigh. “I’ve gotta get her inside.” He doesn’t want to push you, doesn’t want to make you feel like he’s backing you into a corner or trying to force you to listen to him, and he doesn’t know what else to do. He feels lost. Stupid. So, so stupid for letting his girl, his… family, slip away from him like this. 

“Alright… well, let me know if you need anything, yeah?” He asks gently, and you nod without looking at him, eyes bouncing from Emmaline to the floor, to the keys in your hand. 

“Sure.” 

#peaches writes #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader

[emmyrosee]

Awww, I just had a cute thought, what if Yuji braids readers hair before her date with Sukuna and Yuji puts butterfly clips into her hair that goes well with her dress and Sukuna think she’s the prettiest thing in the whole wide world

I wasn’t sure if this was for toddler yuuji or not but it was sent after toddler yuuji sooooo don’t hate me if this isn’t what you meant PFFF-

NO BC YUUJI KEEPS CLOSING THE DOOR ON SUKUNA WHENEVER HE COMES IN TO ASK IF SHE'S READY BC "no, not weady"

“Okay but the reservation’s in 30-“

“Not. Weady.”

And yuuji is so focused on this task, so determined to make you look good, he’s got the tip of his tongue sticking out as his chubby fingers work in various directions and ways, clipping hair here and braiding these strands until he finally cheers and claps his tiny hands and lets you look. Your hair is braided messily, neon butterfly clips nestled in your locks and a few strands out of the braid to frame your face. For such a small boy, he definitely has paid attention to your own styling of hair. Coupled with your makeup, you feel genuinely pleased with the work his tiny hands were able to conjure.

“Awww, yuuji,” you coo, scooping him in your arms and planting a kiss to his head, making him giggle. “You did so good! You think Sukuna’s gonna like it?”

“Sukuna just wants to go!” His gruff voice yells from the other side of the door, and you snort before opening the door, watching as Sukuna’s face of annoyance turns to you, and it melts into one of awe, crimson eyes dancing over your face.

You snort and shake your head, “where’s all that big talk now, huh?”

“I…” he trails off as he lets his eyes glaze over the entirety of your being, and you watch his Adams Apple bob as you continue to beam at him. “You look… fucking beautiful.”

Yuuji gasps at the word, “‘kuna says no-no word!”

“I know, I’ll deal with him later,” you shush, putting down the small child and letting your arms loop around Sukuna’s neck, his hands settling on your waist. “Say thank you to yuuji, he worked very hard on my hair.”

But Sukuna says nothing. He still looks awestruck at you, his lips curving into a small smile of pride before he sinks his teeth into his lip. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

“Had a hunch,” you assure with a smile. He leans down to press a kiss to your lips, and you reciprocate the affection eagerly, tightening your arms around him. You hear yuuji giggling as he watches you both kiss, and you pull away to peek down at him, leaving sukuna to keep sponging kisses along your cheeks and jawline.

“Smoochie kiss!” Yuuji croons, and you reach down to ruffle his hair happily, relishing in the warmth of your chosen family.

#☹️🩷 #sukuna #sukuna fluff #sukuna x reader fluff #sukuna x reader #sukuna x f!reader #sukuna imagine #sukuna jjk #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryomen fluff #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen x f!reader #sukuna ryomen x reader fluff #sukuna ryomen imagine #sukuna ryomen jjk #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk imagine #jjk x reader #jjk x reader fluff #jjk x f!reader #jjk x female reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x yn #brother!au #big brother!sukuna #brother!jjk au #brother!jjk #brother!sukuna

[gaspshichat]

extremely long pearl appreciation post except this time i'm maintagging bc i want her to see this. she deserves to see this

she is the kindest soul ever. every bit message, every sub message, every gifted sub, and as many chat messages as possible are read. she genuinely doesn't want anyone to be left out

pearl had a rough start to stream today with a bunch of bots saying really weird things and someone revealing private information of hers which is weird. i have choice words for them but i'll keep myself pg for this post

it resulted in her having to turn on sub only mode which she said upset her. what did chat do?

they gifted probably around 200-500 subs to the community

pearl kept saying how bad she felt that she was practically forced into turning on sub only mode but she also said she didn't want her community gifting so many subs bc of an awful situation. they still did

i will always say that pearl is the nicest person ever. anytime smth bad happens to someone in chat, she's sympathetic and kind and gives them a message. anytime smth good happens to someone in chat, she's very excited and happy for them

it takes someone who is genuinely kind and selfless to do that. pearl does not have to read every bit message and sub message. but she does

her community reflects this kindness. i got broken up with two hours before valentine's day and told chat [bc streams for me are 6am-10am]. chat was so kind and gave me ideas on what to do with the flowers [which i did what they suggested!]

i've been in fandom communities for almost ten years now. pearl's is the kindest. there are so many people in chat i recognize [secret agent, sapphicwhimsy, kawaiitron, voxkeys, cardmoney, etc] that i look forward to seeing in chat. usually i dread seeing what happens in twitch chat's

not hers. hers are so full of kindness bc she is full of kindness and it just radiates and spreads to her community. yes it's fairly no nonsense, her deleting any weird messages, but that's to make sure it's a good place to be

i've been having nightmares and flashbacks recently due to reasons i wish to keep private. very few youtubers/streamers are able to help me sleep without those issues. pearl is one of them. her community is genuinely safe

i tell everyone interested in mcyt to watch pearl. i've been spreading pearl propaganda [/silly]. she deserves so much more than she has. pearl deserves the world

this is an extremely long post but i need to get my point across to her and anyone else, whether they're a pearl fan or not [yet]

pearl, we all love you and are proud to be part of the community. you are such a genuinely sweet person who deserves all the kindness in the world. i'm so sorry you had to deal with that bullshit [pardon my language]. it does genuinely suck but i hope the ~300 subs helped make you feel better hehe 🫶🫶

#pearlescentmoon #pearlescentmoon pos #maintagging like she is a vampire and my tumblr is my house #aka inviting her in #everyone say smth positive in notes #<- threat [/hj] #we all love pearl here