#the reality is that unless something else gets me first

[042502]

☆༉ — CHRIS STURNIOLO. The unwritten rule.

about. Everyone knows the rule, don't fall in love with your best friend's boyfriend.

author's note: This is the Chapter 3, I hope it sounds interesting to you. My first language is not English, you will read this under this warning. m.list

All the long way home because I don't want to be thinking about Chris and Anna when I get there. I don't want to play "what if..." like I've been doing more than half of the time. I want to be happy for Anna and nothing else.

But when I get home, Chris's car is in the driveway. I stop next to him, my stomach twisting as my stupid, traitorous heart fluttered in my chest, making me dizzy.

He looked at the porch and saw my father, Anna and Chris sitting there, all three partially illuminated by the large frosted glass sphere that my mother won as second place runner-up in the best homes competition and mezzanine super porch lifestyles for dining. She made mini meat loaves with honey mustard glaze and honey butter chili corn cakes. Number of times I ate it for dinner: About sixty. It was good: The first forty times. The last twenty were quite difficult, but my mother likes to know her recipes inside and out.

I look at Chris and Anna, I made myself see them, and my heart stopped fluttering because that's how things are. This is the reality.

But why are they here?

"Hello Ada" it was my father, standing up and hugging me like I was six and not seventeen. Sigh, But I hug him back, he replied that he should not shudder because of his bad hip.

"Why are you out here?" he asked him, and then looked at Anna. “How did you get there before me?” Anna rolls her eyes.

"You drive like an old man, Ada" He quickly looked at my father. "No offense."

"No way" ruffled her hair. I hate when he does it to me, because it reminds me that my hair is not as shiny or looks as good, but it looks like someone has been messing up his hair all the time. Anna likes it, although she always has it, and cuts him off with a sheepish smile before turning to Chris and curling an arm around his shoulders.

"Anyway" Anna speaks. “We are here to kidnap you. It's Friday night and my best friend can't sit at home alone. I mean, you do it all the time!”

I try not to flinch at everything but I do. Chris is right, but it still hurts and after that my father adds: "Ada, you don't have to stay home until one, you know? and, besides, There's no need to waste time at home tonight," he gave me a smile. Not unless you want to listen to my class on jurisprudence. Or remind me of my arthritis pills, your mother has already done it twice before I even tell her I took them.

My father is great for a father, He was fifty when I was born and retired from practicing law seven years ago and now teaches part-time at the University of Estados Unidos. He likes a lot, But I know you miss being a lawyer. You have rheumatic arthritis, which means that your immune system attacks your joints, or, as you always remind me, the joint tissues. I don't see the distinction. All I know is that it sucks and it hurts. It ended up being so bad that I can't work full time anymore, and I had to quit.

I know what it means that my mother is asking about her pills and I look at him.

"How's your hip?"

"Still connected to my body” responds with a smile, and he looks down at the sneakers I'm wearing because I know he's hurting and I wish there was something I could do. For him. But I can not.

The sneakers I'm wearing are one of my favorite pairs: Bright pink, with the lining and tongue with a black and white skull print, black stitching and soles with bright pink laces.

Seeing them didn't make me feel better.

The thing about my father leaving the law firm years ago meant that his arthritis became an occasional thing, sometimes he would have horrible attacks, and then he would go away and feel fine in pain quite often. His hip was actually dislocated last year, and although that was fixed, his hip bone is still eroded.

I don't like to think about it too much. It is frightening to think that your bones are being run by your own body. It's terrible to think about how sick your father is and how much worse he could get.

I don't want that to happen. I like having my father and mother at home all the time. around all the time. Actually, it's been my mother's home for as long as I can remember... She has a PhD in medieval history, but gave up trying to find a job after post-doctoral positions that went nowhere, and discovered cooking and then competitions.

Basically I spent a lot of time with my parents, but the fact is that I like them. I like them. I wouldn't trade my parents for anything, so I'm worried about my dad, whose arthritis isn't getting better, or even staying the same, despite his pills. He went from walking five miles a day to three or less. And on really bad days, he doesn't walk at all.

"So" Anna spoke this time, waving a hand in front of my eyes. "Like he said, we're kidnapping you. Chris, quick! Grab her and let's go!"

I move, standing up so Chris won't feel like he has to touch me. I try not to look at him while I do it, but I can't help it and I see that he is looking at me.

I swallow and my father laughs.

"Ada, I don't think Chris will hurt you. In fact, I’m not sure he can lift you.”

"Thank you, dad," I give him a look..

"No, no, I didn't mean... Well, You are thin. Ada, you know, I mean Chris is very big.... Not that I'm not capable, I'm sure, Chris. But you don’t seem like the guy who runs to catch up.” He cleared his throat. “Well, why don't I come in and see if your mother needs help?”

"Dad" She named him, embarrassed and worried about him, but when I went to open the door, she shook her head at me and said: “Go on, go and have fun.”

"Make sure you take the pills” Anna reminds him, and my father smiled.

"Yes, I'll really take my medicine." He ran his hand through his hair before entering.

"He is cute" Anna comments as she takes my hand. “Now come on, Ada, bring your little ass to the game.”

"I am not small" Anna looked as she pushed me towards Chris's car. “I have… Small bones.”

Which meant she didn't have breasts, had no butt and usually the body of a twelve year old girl, even the fact that my foot was small.

What would be cool if I was twelve, but it's not okay when you're seventeen and your best friend has the type of body that guys will do things like stop or look at her even if she's with another girl.

"You're little," Chris spoke from behind me.

"Which is why you should get a new car” again Anna. “I mean, Ada still doesn't even take up half a seat.” He smiled at me as I got into the back seat. “Look, she could practically fit into a baby seat. A new, smaller car might be more comfortable for her.”

"Yes, the captain is drifting back," I spoke while putting on my seat belt.

"What? There are no more girls on board?" I looked at Chris, his smile disappeared before he got into the front seat, and I know he was on the class trip we took last year, when we both got seasick and went back and forth into shared misery lane.

I blushed, with satisfaction and fear.

"You two are weird" he looked at us both. "But I still like them" Anna finished with a smile.

"Thank you" Chris and I spoke at the same time, Anna laughs and then walked over to Chris to kiss his neck.

I rested my hands on my knees and looked at them, and saw the little lights that appear when we drive.

"Okay, get away from me," Anna spoke, annoyed.

"I'm not... I'm driving." Chris gave him a short serious look.

"Can't you take a second and kiss me?" I was demanding him. Was she really complaining about this?

"No, I mean," he sighs, I think he tries to keep his patience. “I'm driving and this car is, you know.”

He looked at my hands. Just as I didn't like being around Chris and Anna when they were kissing, This was much worse than that. And the reality is that these tense moments are more common than kisses, they have been for a long time in fact.

"Ok, you're driving" I noticed how forced his attempt to sound happy was. “Can you at least think about ordering a better one?”

"I like my car" here they go again.

"It is not yours."

"It's mine" I admit that seeing Chris upset is not easy, but for some strange reason Anna had a knack for making him angry easily.

“Ada doesn’t even have a car, so the car can’t be who you are,” he turns to look at me. “Right, Adi?”

"Well, my mom is supposed to be getting it somewhere," I felt the tension. “So that would make it orange and jagged, I don't know.”

Anna looked at me for a few minutes, and I could tell she was angry because I didn't agree with her. I leaned forward to try to do something, say something, but she didn't seem to want to hear what I had to say so she turned on music.

He found a song he liked and turned the volume up to maximum, making the car windows move from the vibration, we couldn't even talk to the music.

The party is in someone's basement, one of those things hey we did this so you guys don't destroy the house. It's one of those gadgets you might want, but of course no one cares because everyone is too busy dancing or wasting time with the croquet game someone found and installed.

Anna walks straight to the dance floor, Chris and I end up playing croquet for a bit. I make sure I'm not standing next to him, because well... Because I am.

Rob comes to me while I'm done and I feel my millionth turn and I'm waiting to go again.

"Hello."

"Hello, Rob" I saw him smiling. He really looks good, and he smells... Well, he smells like aftershave. My father's aftershave.

"You look great" just looking at Anna while he says this, and I have to say, Although it's strange to be complicated by a boy who smells like my father, I actually feel a little bad for Rob. Anna was with him for about a week last year, then she decided she didn't want to continue.

He did not do it. Most of Anna's boys don't. I mean, I don't walk behind her at school or something, but you know, Even when they are with someone else, if she were interested again, they would have been running back. She has this way of doing things, that the boy loves her more than she loves him, the boys love her forever and it is allowed to think about her even when she has gone out with someone else.

"So, do you want to sit down or something?" Rob spoke, and I shrugged, dropping my gavel.

We are going to sit on the lawn chairs that have been placed in a semicircle around the edge of the croquet set up. At first glance, he is nervous, but then he asked him about his band, I remember Anna complaining about this one, and pretty soon he stops complaining and lets go. I like music, although I'm not sure Rob would necessarily qualify as that.

I like the name though. He told me he'd give me a t-shirt when I told him that, and then he started telling me about his ironic cover of a song about some boy band I remember loving when I was in first grade.

"So, how has Anna been?" He says, and looked at him, trying not to look at her. Poor boy.

"She's fine," I say, and bump Rob with my elbow. “She always liked your band.”

"Really?"

I nod and smiled at that, wide and very happy because I've seen him smile the entire time he's been with me. He looked around and found Leila looking at him.

"Do you know who else really likes your band?" He smiles. “Leila.”

"To her?"

"Yup. You know, you should go talk to him about that song." said. “She loved her.” she will do it. Leila only wears t-shirts from the nineties, And if anyone else would love to hear about an ironic boy band cover, it's her. Plus, it's obvious that she thinks Rob is cute.

"No," Rob tells me, but he's looking at Leila now, and she gives him a shy giggle. I see him look at me and then he smiles back.

"Hey, I'm going to grab a drink," he pointed to a round place. “See you around?”

"Yes," he answers.

And while I'm looking for a beer, but I have to settle for a Pepsi I see him sit near her. She looks really happy and he's not even looking at Anna. Well, once, but only for seconds.

"So, Rob and Leila?" It was Chris, she looked at him alarmed.

"So it seems" I take a sip of my Pepsi before stopping to look at him. “She always liked hearing about her band.”

""I thought he liked you." I force a laugh.

"No, he just likes to talk about... We just talk sometimes" he almost mentioned Anna.

"Do you always find girls for the boys who still like Anna?"

She watched him to see if he looks jealous or angry about Rob liking Anna. He didn't sound like that, and he doesn't look angry at all. He is smiling and looking at me.

"I don't..." I say, and then my voice trails off, because he's raised his eyebrow and I'm just... I just want to lean into him. Now, here, in front of everyone. I confronted my best friend. “You should go dancing with Anna.” I say, and move a little away from him, wrapping my trembling hands around my Pepsi.

"Who can?" say, ignoring the last part of what he says because I have to. I can't think of him dancing. I just can not. The mention of that boat ride last year was enough to keep me wanting and not wanting. Do not do that. I look at Anna swaying her hips, smiling at me as she tosses her hair back and sways her hips, something that I could practice in my room for thousands of hours and never master, and added. “Besides, Anna doesn't care. “She likes it, she likes everything about you.”

"Except my car," he says.

"Well, except that."

"And my hair."

I laugh, sure he's joking, but he's not laughing either, and I turned around in a sort of cough and took another sip of soda.

"What's wrong with your hair?" I know I should drag him over to Anna and watch her move her hands around him, but that's what comes out instead. And she can't really not like her hair. No?

"She says it's too long," he says, running his hand through his hair.

"Oh" I say, because I can't touch his hair or say I think he looks cool because I'm best friends and he's her boyfriend. I don't know why Anna asked me to come to her house and watch that movie with them or bring me to this party, But I know I want to go home and not think about how much I want Chris and I was standing here talking about something real instead of him and Anna.

"I'm very tired," I say. “I should probably go.” And I try to fake a believable yawn and avoid shaking my Pepsi.

"Wait, I'll go tell Anna" I should have said I had to go talk to someone and get a ride with them. I don't want to go with Anna and Chris, I don't want to sit in the car with them, I don't want to see them.

"Ada, do you want to go?" asks me, Coming after me and throwing his surroundings away from me. Even sweating, She looks beautiful. "Because?"

I can't say: "Because I want to throw myself at your boyfriend and also, it's exhausting to want and feel guilty about that at the same time" so I'm just saying: "I'm tired. I'm sorry, I'm exhausted."

"Just hang out with us for a little while longer, okay?"

There's something in her voice and I look at her, but she's turning her face and watching everyone dance.

"I can't. I'm going to find someone and take a walk, still call me tomorrow" I bump my hip against hers.

"I'll take you home" Chris speaks to which I look at him surprised. He has his hands stuffed in his pockets, his face a little flushed.

"Yes, go with Chris" Anna hugged me. “Ask him why he doesn't want to spend time with me,” he whispers as he puts his hands around me. “He doesn't even care that I'm dancing with guys I used to date, and at first this no jealousy thing was great, but now it's... I don't know. Also tell him to cut his hair.”

She returns to the group of people who are dancing, turning to Chris before she turns to one of her exes, Chris looks very happy to see her.

I turn to Chris, ready to tell him that he doesn't need to worry about me, that I'll be able to find a ride home and that he should spend time with Anna, but he's not seeing her. She's right, he's not jealous. That's never happened before.

"Ready to go?" I nod, confused and somewhat... Another thing. Things I shouldn't be feeling. But I feel them anyway.

જ⁀➴ taglist. @l34n @jetaimevous @jnkvivi @loveyoumatthewbernard @d1tzy-bl0nde @laxbabe131147 @slut4chriss @dontellaf1lms @surniolozzzprincess @sturnlova @inlovewithchriss @whicked-hazlatwhore @mattsgirlsblog @nsjsnshey @always-reading

Author's note: If you want to be part of the taglist leave a comment below and I will add you. Thanks for reading, remember to like, share with your friends and leave a nice comment ^^

#sturniolo triplets #﹙𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬. 𝐒﹚🦌 ， #੭ 🤍 ! 𝓈 #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfiction #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo soft #christopher sturniolo x reader #christopher owen sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #matthew bernard sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader

[not-poignant]

Have you ever thought of moving abroad? If you could live anywhere, where would it be?

I have thought about moving abroad! It was all I wanted to do when I was younger (and we had no money and couldn't afford to go anywhere overseas). Back then I thought a lot about Canada mostly because it was cold, or New Zealand, because it was cold, lmao.

When I was able to travel, I thought about Melbourne (which isn't really moving abroad, but hey, it is a 4 hour flight away which feels like the same thing sometimes), and also Scotland, which I well and truly fell in love with. We even priced up real estate in Scotland and talked about making it feasible.

But...unfortunately, having an extremely rare genetic and incurable cancer condition means you almost always have to be very close to a hospital with specialists who actually understand your condition and manage it, and Scotland actually isn't known for being one of the best hubs in the world for the SDHD gene fault. On top of that, the NHS wouldn't be free for me as healthcare, and the yearly MRIs, thrice yearly PET scans and blood tests alone to monitor things are a lot of money if you're not able to access socialised healthcare.

There's only a few places in the world that would actually be kind of skilled enough and have the right kind of specialists for my disease, and that ruled out New Zealand, Scotland (especially the time spent waiting to access the NHS in the first place), Canada, and anywhere else I wanted to live. It's left us with other locations in Australia, but again, the only other place I really want to move is Tasmania, and anyone who wants treatment for this condition in Tasmania has to fly to Melbourne and back again just for consultation appointments.

To give you an idea of how hard it is to find specialists.

I am...miraculously lucky here in Perth. I almost thought we'd have to leave the state for a few months to find a specialist for my condition, and it turned out we lucked into two, and I have one of the best in Australia. Depending on the number of tumours I grow and what they're doing, I need access to the best neurosurgeons, vascular surgeons, endocrinologists, ENT surgeons, and medical and radiation oncologists who know what PRRT is, or gamma ray, or debulking. People with this condition die in places with specialists who don't understand. These tumours can cause a hypertensive crisis if you so much as touch them - biopsies have literally killed us, and many don't understand not to do them because when most doctors see a tumour they want to stick a needle in it.

I don't recommend having disabilities of certain kinds - particularly the kinds that need unique management (one of my tumours occurs in only 1/20,000,000 people to give you an idea of how rare it is) - if you have dreams of moving abroad. It was a pretty sad realisation honestly, because I'd be like 'but what if- oh, the tumours.'

These ticking time bombs basically mean I can never move far away from a hospital of any kind, and it's incurable, so you know, that's that pretty much done. No more indulging thoughts of moving abroad. But I'd like to visit Scotland again one day, when it's safe enough for immunocompromised people to travel freely. Which will probably not be in my lifetime. :/

#asks and answers #personal #yeah scotland is 100% top of the list #tasmania is second #glen and i have had long talks about the reality of shelling out #$800 just to get *transport* to an appointment #and like that's painful #what if i need 6 weeks of fractionated radiotherapy again? #god i hope not #the reality is that unless something else gets me first #i'm going to need chemo once or twice or maybe even three times as i continue to get older #my body is fragile and...watching disability systematically kill your dreams over and over and over again #is depressing #i have no happy answer for you anon #but sometimes that's the reality of living with a shitty rare genetic disability

[msallurea]

I don't know who needs to hear this but when we say "act as if" we do not mean in the 3d of course of that's something you enjoy doing by all means do it. But to act as if is to do exactly what you would do if your desire was already fulfilled within IMAGINATION ONLY!! Since the 3d is only a mirror, everything that you'd want to do if your desire was fulfilled you do it all in imagination and you identify as the person who is experiencing all of that within imagination aka imagine it as true.

Also..when we say imagine we do NOT mean visualize. Imagining is LITERALLY by definition to imply an idea in one's mind with or without consideration or reflection aka to form a mental concept, image or idea aka TO SUPPOSE OR ASSUME!! you can easily do this without the need to visualize anything. You're imagining all the time. All YOU have to do is identify with whatever it is you desire to imagine aka "change your clothes" which is code for changing your state of consciousness.

But how do you change your clothes aka a state? Well first you "choose your outfit". What is it that you want to wear, in other words what do you want to identify as. For the sake of examples let's say your manifesting your dream life. Ok so now that I know what clothes (state) I want to wear (identify as), now it's time for me to put my clothes on. How to do that? Well I imagine what would it be like if it were true? What would I do? What would I say? How would I feel? This is where techniques come in to make it fun. You can say affirmations, visualize, script, inner convo, etc. And the moment you are done with doing this and you feel satisfied that is when you know it is done. But wait! What about the 3d? "I don't see anything". Yea that may be true you can't see anything but you know what else you can't see?? Dust..yet you know it's there. You can't see atoms yet you know it's there. You can see other people in front of you right now but you know there are people in the world. You can't see a cake in front of you yet you can imagine a cake and taste all it's flavors and smell its sweetness and everything. You see, you don't have to see anything outside of you to knowyhat you already have your desires. So..just like when we say "know that you already have your desires" and "it is already done" we are not talking about in the 3d that would be delusional. We mean know you have you desires in imagination because and don't worry about the 3d it is only neutral and it can't do anything unless YOU assume it does. Even then, you're still proving that YOU are not only a creator but that imagination is the real reality and the 3d is a mirror because who's to say your desire couldn't reflect the 4d within that same second and yet you flipped it and said "it's not working" and assumed the 3d wasn't reflecting your desire. Why are you worried about what a mirror is showing you if you can already see that you have what you want in imagination?

This is where persisting comes in. You don't persist to get something. You persist because you know you have what you want regardless of what is being shown outside of you. You continously choose to identify as something even when there is no evidence of it.

#msallurea #law of assumption

[meanbossart]

I LOVE DU drow and I love your art style! I also really like how you draw Astarion's hair, it looks flowy but still with his trademark curls.

Can you give any advice on drawing Astarion's hair? I find it a nightmare to draw. Whenever I free hand it, it just doesn't have the amount of curliness I want, and when I try to use a reference it ends up looking rather stiff.

Take care and thanks for the art 😊

THANK YOU though to be honest I'm shocked to find this ask in my inbox because every time I draw Astarion a war is waged between me and his hairdo. But sure, lets give this a shot!

First of all I feel like its a good idea not to be too attached to his in-game model hair when drawing unless your style is very realistic. The only reason why that dry-noodle helmet looks so regal and bouncy is because of the high-detailed graphics. Like you mentioned yourself and many of us have experienced, if you try and stick to it too closely in most art-styles it just ends up looking terribly stiff.

Instead, I suggest just keeping growth-direction and shape in mind and applying as much movement as you want to it when you draw it. Here's some things to remember that might help you with that:

-I employ the liquify tool a lot when sketching his hair because I never get it big enough on the first try, lol. This can also aid you with "distorting" more curliness into your lines if you aren't used to doing that right off the bat, just try not to become too reliant on it!

-I usually leave the areas around the ears and back alone but imply a lot of movement with the top and front of the hair, taking as many liberties as I want even if it's not entirely faithful to the model. I feel like the impression of curliness comes entirely from the silhouette of the hair and little fly-ways that I add, and everything else I just try to do without overthinking it too much for a more natural look.

In truth, I feel like a lot of times we get stuck on things like parting-placement, right amount of curl, which brush we're using yada-yada when in reality we are neglecting what actually makes a character's hair recognizable: Hairline, growth pattern, and shape. If you get these three things right I feel like everything else is entirely just stylistic choice. It's worth pulling away for a moment and checking on these things if you feel like you're continually unhappy with your outcome!

-Astarion has a hairline capable making most men over 30 cry. It's very low on the forehead and tight on the temples with the slightest hint of a widow's peak. As someone who drew a lot of big-foreheaded characters with receding hairlines prior, this was a STRUGGLE for me to get used to and a big reason why I felt like I couldn't get his hair to look "right" for the longest time.

-His hair swoops to the right side of his face in a fanning kind of shape and is the longest at the front and top. You can imply a strong part if you want, you can split it into sections, you can have it falling over his forehead or not at all - as long as it's going in the right direction you will probably be fine.

-A mistake I would catch myself making often was getting the shape totally wrong - making it too slick at the top and putting all the volume in the back when that's pretty much the exact opposite of what his hair does. IT'S ALL AT THE FRONT AND TOP, REPEAT IT TO YOURSELF LIKE IT'S A MANTRA: IT'S ALL AT THE FRONT AND TOP.

And lastly, if you absolutely hate how his hair looks or hate to draw it, you can forego all of this and just do whatever you want. These tips are only worth something if you like how I draw his hair specifically.

Hopefully this was helpful at all!

#ask #astarion #tutorial #resource #art advice #bg3

[hoao]

oikawa is a perfectly crafted character. he’s silly and insufferable and has a ridiculous way of behaving but he’s also determined and strong and committed and hardworking. if you dive deeper, he’s also desperate, insecure, and he yearns and he wants and he fights. he’s scared his hard work will never be enough because there are people who are already one step ahead of him, people he considers geniuses.

“talent is something you make bloom, instinct is something you polish.”

i don’t think anything will ever stop him from doubting and feeling insecure, and iwaizumi himself once told him he’s probably never going to be satisfied. however, by breaking free from the constant pressure of “the talented ones”, he can polish his hard work, his instinct, his drive.

it will lead him far, yes. in fact, it leads him to another country, dealing with another language and another culture and another world. he momentarily forgets just how fun volleyball can be, until meeting hinata reminds him of it. he grows up to be fierce and motivated and passionate and on the opposite side of the court, representing another country and standing up for his “petty pride”.

he’s a character that drives me insane because i relate to him in ways that scare me. am i talented? or is what i have “just” instinct that i have to polish? am i a sort of imposter between people who are born great? people who have to work hard, just like me, but they seem to be doing it a bit more effortlessly?

hard work is always hard work, no matter the raw material (talent/instinct). but oikawa is so good and relatable because he knows it and he still feels like he needs to do more, more, more. he feels different from the others, and when first confronted with this reality it almost takes control of him. (kageyama is what he will never be, he despises him because of it).

and what’s an even bigger paradox is that nobody ever looks down on him. he does it all by himself. kageyama and ushijima and hinata and everybody else, they all look at him for what he is: a good player, a scary opponent, someone they fear and someone they look up to simultaneously, someone they have fun playing against, someone they want to beat, someone worth their time and efforts, someone who’s crazy good at what he does.

as always, haikyuu is so real for this too. our mind works in very weird ways, sometimes we don’t take into consideration others’ opinions of us unless they’re negative, we’re never satisfied with ourselves, we always want more.

oikawa is a perfectly crafted character. he has flaws and he’s so intensely human people might despise him for it. and the path furudate built for him is so fitting and so hopeful it has me believing there’s a chance i’ll get there too. not to Argentina, not to the Olympics. instead, to a future where my hard work means something (to me!).

and what if i don’t feel like the others? what about it? it will never be “just” instinct. it’s my hard work, my pride and drive. it will lead me places because i demand it. when oikawa breaks off the cycle, he becomes insatiable. “i will defeat everyone, so be ready!”

(i also happen to believe he really does defeat everyone).

#haikyuu manga spoiler #haikyuu spoiler #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa tooru #hq oikawa #analysis #i love haikyuu sm #i love oikawa sm #hinata shouyou #kageyama tobio #ushijima wakatoshi #iwaizumi hajime #haikyu #hoao.s

[rene-spade]

Ok but how are the crazy f1 dads with their daughters dating? Who on the grid do they like?

oof this is a loaded ask bc they really are all out of it 😭 they just love their babies fr

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! kimi | growing up räikkönen!

FIRST OF ALL kimi doesn’t really vibe with most people in general, let alone anyone who’s trying to get with his little lumienkeli. kimi was lucky to raise a little girl similar to him, who listens when he places a no dating rule lasting until she’s 21 (as far as he knows anyways). despises the guys on the grid trying to get with her; he was one of them once so he thinks of them as animals, especially leclerc who’s known for his brow-raising dating life. also hates pierre but he already didn’t fw him bc he’s french. he is SLIGHTLY more easy going with women around his daughter so any grid guys with girlfriends might have an advantage. he finds that he wants the im-a-dog-and-ill-do-whatever-my-girl-says type for his daughter, but he dislikes unintelligence. he does not like anyone on the grid, but he best tolerates:

mick schumacher!

oscar piastri (+lily)

he vibes with kika okay but hates pierre 💀

bonus! he actually really likes max but his hate/distrust for jos overpowers that so he’s not letting that happen

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! jenson | growing up button!

OK SO JENSON is a bit less intense than kimi, however he is much more publicly affectionate with his daughter which means that he has definitely gone on public rants about how no man is good wen enough for his baby. that being said, he is a decent judge of character so he doesn’t hate anyone on the grid. but he gets real serious when he notices people hitting on his baby. this is mostly bc he was def a whore when he was younger so he isn’t quick to trust guys who are living the same lifestyle he was. he kind of turns on dad-mode when he notices anyone eyeing her up. but alas, he raised his own mini-me, who attracts just about everyone, and who likes to flirt back. it takes warming up to, but he can see himself fine with most of the drivers. he most prefers people who are friendly and who didn’t act like him when he was in f1 like:

george russel

daniel ricciardo

lando norris

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! fernando | growing up alonso!

NANDO IS DEFINITELY one of those guys who thinks he’s a “cool dad” bc he’s a young father and his daughter is his best friend. but in reality he’s one of those intense, fiercely overprotective dads who have impossibly high expectations for his daughters partner. 100% the type to punch a mechanic for saying gross things about his princesa. he’ll be calm and in a good mood then someone on the grid (or any man ever) mentions his daughter and he’s like 😐. UNLESS! it’s carlos. carlos is the only one who meets his standards, sorry to literally everyone else. but even with carlos, he can be a little stern just to get his point across about not messing with his only child. he just feels the need to personally approve of his daughter’s partner bc he’s hyper-paranoid about someone hurting her. his list looks something like:

carlos sainz!!!

that’s it

i mean if you put a gun to his head maybe max bc he’s a winner but he needs to learn to speak spanish so-

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! jos | growing up verstappen! unfortunately

FUCK JOS VERSTAPPEN obviously, however this man is one crazy dad who we have to discuss. his love for his youngest daughter is wild and unpredictable, and it’s very different from the way he treats his other children. his baby has some extreme one-sided beef with him that he’s smart enough to know about, so he isn’t too forceful about bonding, it’s definitely more desperate since max found success in f1 and she sticks with her big brother now. her entire life, he’s never allowed her to date, and when he found out about her first secret bf, he got arrested for trying to kill the kid so. he has IMPOSSIBLY high standards for his daughters partner and definitely wants her to marry within the f1 community, but he hates losers and despises half the grid.

suddenly he’s charles leclerc’s biggest fan !

lewis hamilton but he’ll never admit it

MAYBE carlos sainz

bonus! max obvi likes daniel ricciardo best but jos doesn’t fw him like that

♤ ♤ ♤

Ren

#dark! f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 grid x reader #obsessive f1 #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #f1 oc #f1 reverse harem #daniel riccardo x reader #max verstappen x reader #lando norris x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #kimi räikkönen x daughter reader #dad! jenson button #dad! fernando alonso #dad! kimi räikkönen #jos verstappen

[lordsukunas]

jjk men & you: nail appointment!

tldr: gojo, geto, nanami, ino, choso, toji, sukuna + mahito going with you to your nail appointment.

cw: fem!reader. sukuna refers to reader as ‘woman’ once. and mahito.

a/n: this was fun lowk. might do it for jjk boys, depends on my motivation. idk if mahito particularly counts as a man, but he’s here for my mootie. time to sleep now, enjoy!!!

✿ — gojo:

first things first, he’s paying for your nails. which sounds like a good thing, until you realize he’s insisting on going along with you. he’ll pester you the entire time, suggesting colors and styles (how does he know so much?!) and then doing anything to get you to laugh or look at him. sometimes it results in your nail tech getting a little lot frustrated because he keeps making you squirm. eventually, tho, he’ll stop and let the tech finish up your nails.

“they’re cute. would’ve been cuter if you let me pick, buuuut... still cute.”

✿ — ino:

he’ll flex his knowledge about nails like it’s something revolutionary or suggest a style that he swears is completely unique, only for you to correct him and realize that it’s really just basic information. he’ll spend the rest of the appointment scrolling through pinterest and instagram, trying to find inspo for your next set.

“ooh, baby, look. these are nice, right?”

✿ — nanami:

only pays if you want him to, and only goes if you want him to. is content to let you pick whatever style you want, but likes to pick out bold colors and suggest designs based on your interests or adding charms. always tips the tech, and once your nails are done, he gently grabs your hand and kisses the back of it.

“these suit you perfectly, my lady.”

✿ — geto:

at first, he is nawt going in there. unless you find a sorcerer nail tech, he’s going to be slick the entire time. he’ll side-eye everyone else getting their nails done, judge their taste (“why would she choose that shit-brown?”), and stand up the entire time. he doesn’t want the germs. once you’re done, he’s pulling you out of there as quickly as possible.

“here, take this. ... yes, it’s hand sanitizer. you don’t want those monkey germs, right?”

✿ — toji:

only goes because you told him if he tagged along, you’d pay. in reality, he was going to go all along, just to make sure nobody tries anything. he will slap the shit outta somebody, including your nail tech. sits in a tiny chair by your side, massive head resting on your shoulder and arms crossed, absolutely knocked out. he’ll only wake up if you shrug your shoulder or if the appointment ends (he has some kind of sixth sense for that shit).

“huh? ... nah, i ain’t sleep. you cute, now c’mon.”

✿ — choso:

kind of like gojo, clingy asf. he won’t make suggestions (bro has no idea, pls bear w/ him), but he’ll praise any and every decision you make. his arms will be wrapped around your waist the entire time, earning him lots of ‘awhss’ and ‘look at them! so cute.’ tips the nail tech for “making you extra gorgeous.” his words, not mine.

“you look good, i swear. i like the colors, and the shape, and the design, and your hands...”

✿ — sukuna:

has a personal nail tech. you think he maintains them black nails by himself? no. threatens his nail tech to do good on your nails, otherwise it’ll be the last set they ever do. makes minor suggestions, but is content to sit back and let you decide for yourself. he does have a preference color, though, either black, red, or dark purple. gets a weird urge to nibble your fingers once your nails are done. please don’t ask why.

“hm? you look fine, woman. nothing rivals your natural beauty, so quit ya whining.”

✿ — higuruma:

he’s awake for the entire prep process. watching you pick your colors, decide on a design, get settled in the chair. the second the nail tech actually gets to work, though, he’s tapped out. just like toji, he’s sitting in a chair beside you, head either resting in your lap or on your shoulder. if he could sit across from you, his head would be on your chest. only wakes up when it’s time to pay (he tips!) or if something goes wrong.

“... mm? oh, those are nice, sunshine. i like the little designs, very cute.”

✿ — mahito ..?:

a lil shit the entire time istg. doesn’t care what you pick, will poke and squish and pinch and nuzzle you the whole process, annoying both you and the tech. considers getting his done to match yours, but realizes he could probably just morph the shape of his soul instead of sitting there.

“those are, like, so cute! ... no? you don’t like my valley girl accent?”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk imagines #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk geto #jjk nanami #jjk choso #jjk toji #jjk sukuna #jjk ino #jjk mahito #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #nanami kento x reader #sukuna x reader #gojo headcanons #geto headcanons #nanami headcanons #sukuna headcanons #🪵 – writing

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 6)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer wants you to be the Mother of his child. Rated E bc Explicit.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

((This one fought me so hard, I just wanna get it out there and I’ll proof-read it later I’m sorry.))

The first time didn’t take, as you’d come to learn 3 days post-coitus with the Devil. It had left you bereft, not exactly disappointed but also not certain if you should go out and buy 150% proof alcohol to mark the occasion. 

You settled for enough wine to dull your senses before sending a text with your Hellphone. The fact that inter-dimensional phone lines were possible was simply added to the list of not-even-gonna-think-about-it of things that came with your new reality. 

A blood-curdling shriek from your pocket made you curse as you dove for it. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey-yy!” Lucifer responded cheerfully before clearing his throat. “So it um… it didn’t work?” 

“Unless being pregnant with hellspawn looks and feels exactly like my time of the month, no. It didn’t.” You said. 

He sighed on the other end, air blowing through the receiver and fucking up already poor reception. “Okay. Shit. Well, maybe we can work something else out—”

“I’ll just text you when it’s over and we can try again.” You replied as you leaned back against your headboard. 

“You-you wanna try again?” Lucifer’s surprise made your eyes roll.

“Yeah, just give me a couple days.” You’d felt a wave of fatigue crashing over you.

Suddenly you were boneless, barely able to even hold the phone up to your ear. Lucifer’s hesitant delight barely registered yet you could imagine him behind closed eyelids, smiling crookedly with those ivory fangs. 

“Y-I-uh, ok great! That works for me if it works for you!” He practically shouted. “Do you need anything in the meantime?”

“‘Mmmmffh, a nap.” Lucidity snapped back for a moment as you eyed the phone in your peripheral. “Also please don’t call or text me. I’m gonna throw this thing out the window if I have to hear someone screaming bloody murder one more time.” 

—

Lucifer being startled by the ringing of his Hellphone wasn’t at all peculiar. 

However — 

The sound of a love song, though tinny and compartmentalized to the King of Hell’s coat pocket, made Asmodeus perk up. 

He glanced down to see his diminutive brother rush for the device like his life depended on it. It was easy to feign polite indifference as Lucifer excused himself from the cafe table for a moment, but by the time the King had returned, Asmodeus was leaning forward expectantly. 

“That’s new.” He said. 

Lucifer looked up wildly, as if he’d been caught snatching aphrodisiacs from Ozzie’s own stores.

       “Huh, wha? What’s new?” He laughed off the embarrassment, re-taking his seat.

Asmodeous sipped from his teacup, clocking the many idiosyncrasies Lucifer displayed.

       He was flustered, still gripping the phone between his claws, and had perched on the edge of his seat so that he could bounce a leg against the ground. 

“Love songs aren’t your usual style, babe.” The Prince spoke casually, but his eyes were bright.

It was delightful to see Lucifer stiffen as soon as he realized what his companion referred to. One of the best about the short King was how easy he was to tease, if you asked the Embodiment of Lust himself. 

        “Didn’t know you were finally getting out there, Louie.” Ozzie teased. “Were you gonna keep it a secret? Even from me?”

“Oh n— out there? Me?! Ha! No!” Lucifer shook his hand fiercely. “I’m not — it’s not like that! We’re not dating! I mean, some might see it like that but a lot of others wouldn’t! She wouldn’t… probably!  It’s, ya see, actually — I — ahem, ah…” 

His embarrassment grew into something stranger, more conflicted and melancholy. The teasing smirk on Asmodeus’s face flattened. 

“It’s complicated.” He finished, looking down at his phone as if it were the sole reason for his sudden misery. 

Ozzie wasn't soft on many (in fact he’d argue that being hard was his speciality) but his brother was one of the few. 

The much larger Sin rested a hand against Lucifer’s back. “You wanna talk about it?”

—

The days that followed blurred together, monotony of aches and pains broken only by an insatiable libido. It was as if the promise of sex after this, however unfulfilling it might be, was the only thing keeping you alive. 

Lucifer’s bizarre consideration held up over that time, surprising you enough that when it was time to give him a ring, you weren’t as dread-filled as you could’ve been. 

        He did, however, arrive in your home via furnace suspiciously quickly upon making contact with you again. His normally pristine suit and and impeccably coiffed hair were ruffled and singed, like he’d made a mad dash to get to you. 

“Hell-Oh!” Lucifer had practically squeaked as you dragged him out by the lapels. 

You’re so pent up that it’s hardly a surprise when you find yourself sitting on his lap, having manhandled the short King onto your couch. 

His cold, smooth skin was still alien, but you powered through the initial aversion to chase after that zing that came with kissing him. It was addictive, even with the fear of being cut by his sharp teeth in the back of your mind. 

Despite yourself, you took a second to break away and breathe. 

Beneath you, Lucifer was positively flushed. His shiny, wet lips were parted in wordless awe, and eyes glazed over in his daze. 

“Fuck.” He croaked. 

You smirked, gripping onto the blond hair that had already been mussed and abused by overeager hands. Pointedly, you slid back and forth on his trembling lap. There was no way to ignore the hardness at his inner thigh. 

—

The first drag of his cock against your walls made you shudder, arching as your head fell back. 

Lucifer whined in his seat, claws digging into the plush of your thighs. The pain heightened the feeling of being stabbed twice, making your lower belly tremble. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fffffff —” His cries were so good, you couldn’t stop from grinding down onto him. “You feel so good. So. Good. You’re gonna kill me, sweetheart. I can't.”

“That’s ok.” You slurred, hands coming up to wrap loosely around his neck. “We can work on that.” 

Lucifer opened his mouth, but you were already planting kisses against the corner of lips mouth, his cherry-spotted cheeks, the line of his jaw and the pulse beneath his ear.

—

Your hands were focused on exploring the planes of Lucifer’s chest and shoulders. He wasn’t muscular — or tall, obviously, but the lithe body intertwined with yours was more than easy on the eyes. 

“You can touch.” It was hardly fair that yours were the only hands busy. The ruler of Hell was flat beneath you, artificial light from your bedroom lamp casting shadows on his marble chest. 

Lucifer’s mulberry-dappled lids remained low, highlighting the yellow glow of his eyes. His claws slid up your hips, reverently tracing your frame as you bounced lightly. 

“If you insist, princess.” 

He was more coy after the first few rounds, an easier grin sliding across his face. The trembling touches against your breasts spoke of the still-nervous creature you’d first been introduced to.

—

Daylight was waning again when you found knelt, back pressed against Lucifer’s chest. He fucked into you wildly, teeth pressed into your bare shoulder. 

The thought of him biting into you didn’t sound so frightful anymore. In fact the image set butterflies off in your stomach. 

That and the way he held you close, wrapped vice-like around you like a boa constrictor. 

“No baby, don’t go yet!” When you squirmed, Lucifer nuzzled into the side of your neck, breathing heavy. “Just like this. Please, baby.”

He pleaded into your neck, grip tightening to where you couldn’t breathe. 

— 

“Here.” You guided his hand, settling it between your legs. 

Lucifer’s thrusts had grown shallow and uneven, but hadn’t quite stopped. He seemed entranced, watching as you positioned his thumb over the bundle of nerves just above where you two were joined. 

“Gently. Watch your claws.” You murmured along with your hands-on teaching. 

When you felt he’d gotten the message, you sighed and concentrated on the circular motion against your clit. Lucifer remained attentive, moving clockwise as the pace he’d started before picked up again. 

In moments you tensed, pleasure sparking along your pubic bone. It built up as your eyes closed, head tipped back as you let yourself enjoy the pressure both inside and out. Your hips jerked upward of their own accord, core trembling and cunt spasming. 

Your partner whimpered at the new intensity, which only egged you on. Before you knew it, you two were rocking into a chaotic rhythm. 

With slit eyes, you saw Lucifer looking down at you, flustered yet rapt over your every little response.

“Yeah?” He asked breathlessly. 

You nodded. “Mm-hm.”

It was difficult. You could feel the tension in your belly contracting, the heat and pressure building against your clit. The feeling was mounting to where you couldn’t help your keens, your moans, your whimpers. 

It ended with a choked sigh. You arched from the bed, head falling back as you let your legs tremble and shake around him. The convulsions pulled the Devil in deeper, and the feel of him was enough to make your eyes roll back in your skull beneath fluttering eyelids. Another gush came at the thought of being so full you could feel it in your stomach. 

          Lucifer watched. His face was nearly as red as the apple that adorned his hat, knocked off of your bedside table. He had the expression of someone seeing a falling star for the first time. Stunned, eyes gleaming, unable to comprehend something despite how beautiful it was.  

The former Angel lowered himself to capture your mouth with his own. He pressed luxuriant kisses to your lips, all while his hips stuttered between your thighs until he was humping into you, refusing to separate skin from skin. 

His release was coupled with a heated groan, muffled by the slide of your tongue against his. You were glowing inside out, warmth blooming in your core as you held onto Lucifer tightly. 

— 

The woman had invited you up into her tree. It was a different tree from the last, not bearing any fruit but lush with green needles and strong boughs that wouldn’t break. 

She looks over her shoulder at you cheekily. “Aren’t you glad you decided to join me?”

You playfully scoff and roll your eyes. “You don’t need to be so smug about it.” 

“Oh I think I do.” The blonde tilted in your direction, arms coming to wrap around you. “I won.”

You stay that way, watching the nettles shake in the passing breeze. 

“Everyone loves a winner.” She says at your side.

You frown. “I love you no matter what.” 

The woman sighs. 

“You might not always.” 

—

Light humming woke you from your doze, along with the repeated motion of something against your cheek. 

It wasn’t until you’d opened your eyes that you realized it was Lucifer humming and caressing your cheek tenderly. He was nose(less) to nose with you, seemingly admiring your face slackened with sleep. 

“What’s that from?” You rasped. 

“Hmm?” The King stroked an errant hair behind your ear. 

“It’s a movie.” You continued, repeating the notes in your head. “Right? It’s from a musical…”

“You like musicals?” Lucifer asked, seemingly surprised. Fangs poked out of his close-lipped smile, and he looked goofier than ever before. 

You copied him, helpless to how silly he made everything. “What’s not to like?”

The lightbulb went off. “Oh! Cabaret. That’s where it’s from.” 

“Yeah!” Lucifer moved even closer, the flat of his face pressing against your nose as he nuzzled you for guessing the right answer. “It’s kinda old, isn’t it? How’d you guess?”

“Psh, you think my threshold for pop culture is only as long as the last ten years?” You teased, arm skating down his side so that you could pinch his behind. 

“Hey!”

***

Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1, @loquacious-libra, @glowymxxn, @avadakadabra93, @froggybich, @hamthepan,

Please let me know I missed tagging you!

#hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar

[animeyanderelover]

can i request gojo with a darling who can touch him even when his infinity is on? (I think it's canon that he can never turn it off completely so that would be his first time actually having physical contact with someone)

Huge thanks to everyone who helped me with this request by explaining how exactly Gojo’s abilities work! I’ll start watching the second season as soon as all episodes are out for anyone who is wondering. I added a bit of stuff to make for an more interesting read.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, clinginess, obsession, touchiness, manipulation, gaslighting, paranoia, isolation, abduction

The first touch

🩵Gojo has been having his eyes on you even before he knew about your very special abilities. That basically means that you have this white-haired menace terrorising your daily life whenever he can. You almost have the impression that he can sniff you out among the many million people in Tokyo as he always finds you somehow. You're honestly just so fed up with him but are terribly introverted and feel too scared and awkward to explain to him clearly how you feel about his constant intrusion. You doubt that it would get through his head anyways so you silently endure the man's clingy, whiny and increasingly affectionate antics. Satoru knows no personal boundaries when it comes to you or rather he just decides to ignore it. You're just too cute~ Your unwillingness to stand up for yourself leads to ruthless abuse from his side.

🩵He has had it coming one way or another as he senses your growing frustration with his unbelievable clinginess and disrespect of your privacy. Worst is that he's at this point provoking you because he wants to see what you look like when you snap. So when your string of patience finally snaps as you feel his hands rubbing your shoulders and fawning over your current anger, you've had enough. You swing your heavy handbag at him in a moment of short and impulsive anger. Satoru doesn't move from his spot as he doesn't worry. His Infinity is activated so the handbag won't hit him. It'll easily just be seen as you missing your target, which is right now his handsome face. He sees your handbag moving closer to his face and just gives a small grin... At least until the fucking thing smashes against his face with full force, heavy with all of your stuff inside.

🩵Everyone who would know him, would probably laugh at him if they would see him in that moment. The almighty Satoru, stumbling back in shock before tripping over his own feet and landing onto the ground. That would have never happened if he would have been around anyone else. But he isn't around anyone. He's with you. Sweet, weak and lovable non-sorcerer you. Around you he never has his guard up unless he senses danger. Not because he underestimates you, although he definitely does, but because he feels like he can just be himself around you. That's why he's so thoroughly unprepared for this. For a moment he just sits on the ground in bewilderment, his face pulsing with pain from the impact it just had with your handbag. You start frantically apologizing as soon as you realize what you've done, flip a bit out when blood seeps out of his nose. You quickly rummage through your handbag as you search for something to stop the bleeding.

🩵Gojo on the other hand, who slowly starts coming back to reality after this major shock, touches his face in a daze. When he pulls his hand back, his fingertips are covered in blood, in his own blood. He looks at the red liquid like it is something he has never seen before in his life, as if it's something alien-like, before he jumps abruptly up. You flinch and shrink when he bents down to your height, brilliant blue eyes seemingly trying to look deep into your soul as he asks you quietly how you just did that. His voice is slightly strained with emotions you can't fully detect. You do see some of them swirling around in his eyes. Curiosity, shock, surprise but also something else. Something you haven't sensed in the silly and clingy man before. It unsettles you deeply. You don't even know what he just meant with his question just now and Satoru seems to realize that too as he pulls back, allowing you to breathe again.

🩵He leaves you a while after that incident and even if he tries to keep his normal facade up, you sense that something has startled him. If only you'd know. Satoru's mind is occupied with this accident the whole day. How were you able to do that? You're a non-sorcerer by all accounts and he didn't sense any cursed energy from you nor from anywhere around you. You were honestly expecting him to not show his face so soon again yet instead he rings at your apartment in the early morning hours. You're majorly confused and frightened by the fact that he seems to know where you live as you have never told him that yet Gojo pushes past you like he's been here a hundred times before. His eyes briefly fly through your current home, noting that it is quite small if you'd live with him, you could have everything you would want before he asks you the most ridiculous question you've heard all week. "Can you slap me?"

🩵You look at the man as if he has suffered from brain damage due to your handbag yesterday. How does one even respond to such a request?! Weirdest of all is that he looks at you with genuinely curious eyes. Can you slap him? Can you touch him with your own hands and everything you hold in your hands even if his Infinity is on? You hesitate a tad bit too long before he decides to provoke you a bit to anger you enough to do as he just asked you. It works as it is early morning, you've just found out that he knows where you lived and you're also still quite tired. You're in no condition to endure his teasing as he reminds you of embarrassing accidents he's had the joy of witnessing. The next thing he knows, he feels the impact of your hand against his cheek with more strength than he assumed. Maybe he underestimated your strength just a tiny, tiiiiny bit. Nevertheless though, as he rubs his stinging cheek his eyes are glued to you as a realization comes to him that changes his life. You, a non-sorcerer, somehow have the ability to seemingly nullify his Infinity... How?

🩵It must be the biggest irony of the universe. His darling is metaphorically and literally his one and only biggest weakness. A tiny part of him really has to chuckle about this but for the most part, Gojo suddenly grows by leaps and bounds more paranoid. He is the strongest in the sorcerer world and he couldn't even count on both hands how many people constantly pray for his downfall but can only do that as he is literally untouchable. With his situation he would already be under normal circumstances be overprotective and slightly paranoid that someone would instead resort to making you a target and use you against Gojo. He has to protect weak you for that reason against all the evil in this world. Yet with the knowledge that you can touch and by extension of that also harm him, a new fear inside of him grows. What if his enemies would decide to set you up against him to have you kill him? Or worse, what if you yourself would decide to rebel against him and would try to harm him?

🩵If you wouldn't have this special talent, he wouldn't be worried. Because then you simply wouldn't be able to harm him although your betrayal would still badly sting due to the lingering scars of Geto's betrayal. Yet with the added aspect that you can actually hurt him, Gojo's paranoia worsens. The image of you being his downfall, the only person he genuinely loves and trusts in this world, breaks him somehow. It isn't likely considering that he is far above you in all physical aspects and still has other abilites, not to mention that you would never sink that low, yet the fact that it is the tiniest possibility is enough to drive him a bit mad. You'd never do that, right? You love and care too much to ever think about killing him or even slightly harming him, right?

🩵You don't know where those sudden insecurities and his paranoia come from, you never imagined the Satoru you knew for a while to be so fragile underneath all his confidence and silliness. You wish that he could revert back to that side of him, even if it was possibly only a facade. Because now Satoru is downright suffocating and scares you even. You can't do anything to escape his tight grasp though and even if he doesn't hold you, you're still stuck in your new home. In his own huge mansion, installed with a security system that would never allow you to step outside unless he's with you. You will never leave his side, he won't let you. No one is allowed to find out about you and your one of a kind abilities. It is the bittersweetest irony ever. The warm touches of yours he so yearns for are the only ones who could also kill him.

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru

[topguncortez]

Maybe blurb from crying prompt idk if this would be a hide or hold maybe both? But the reader holds her emotions in during a family thing because she's the oldest sibling and she feels like she has to be strong because that's how her family was raised and then she gets a moment and they tell her to stop being strong and that it's okay to let it out. I'm thinking either Bradley or Jake?

Hold My Hand - J. Seresin x Reader

synopsis: you get a phone call that no child ever wants to get, and as the "rock" of the family, you aren't allowed to break.

warnings: parental death, trauma, parental abandonment, incorrect medical jargon, mental abuse, grief, depression

note: I know this was supposed to only be a blurb, but I started writing and I couldn't stop. These past 16 days have been hell and there was something about writing this that just felt so freeing, like the cloud hanging over me has finally been lifted.

it had felt like a lifetime had passed, but in reality, it had only been 10 days.

10 days since that frightening phone call on that cold January day.

10 days since your mother called you, sound incoherent on the phone but you managed to gather the gist of it.

10 days since you had rushed out of your house, your hair half done, your husband chasing after you like you had lost your mind.

10 days since your father so bravely rushed into a burning building, saving other children and leaving you, your siblings and your mother behind.

You were angry, at first. Angry at the world for allowing this to happen. Angry at your father for playing superman when he was just a regular man. Angry at the other people standing around who didn’t have the same courage to run into the fire instead of standing by and yelling at your father to turn back. Angry that this was going to be the end; that your mother would be a widow at a young age, your youngest sisters wouldn’t have their father to walk them down the aisle, your children wouldn’t ever have another “grandpa day”, that you’d never get another hug and an “i love you” from your father again.

You wanted to cry. You wanted to shut out the world, force the cameras away, force the sorrowful looks from others away, force the heavy weight of your heart onto someone else.

But you couldn't. You had to be the strong one. For your mother. For your siblings. For your own children.

Jake had been watching you like a hawk since you had gotten that phone call. The morning started out like any other morning, with the two of you waking up before the sun was in the sky, making sure you had enough time to do a quick at-home workout and a run. You had been working on packing the kids' lunches when you got that call. He had to pry the keys out of your hands, telling you that your mother didn't need you and your father in the hospital.

Jake had eyed you the whole drive, noticing the redness and the unshed tears in your eyes. The way that you clutched the dainty silver cross around your neck between your fingers. The way that you sniffled every so often, trying to hold back the tears. But the second you stepped into the hospital, seeing the distressing look on your mother's face and the waiting room full of fellow firemen, you rolled your shoulders back and pushed back your own sadness and grief.

Those 10 days had been the best and worst of your life. You hardly left the hospital, unless Jake was physically forcing you to leave. You hardly ate, hardly slept, hardly took care of yourself. Your mind was so worried about everyone else except yourself. For 9 days, you had believed that maybe, just maybe, your father would pull through. But that all came crashing down on day 10, when your father's brain had swelled and his doctor's pronounced him brain dead.

"Y/N," Your mother had spoke, looking over at you as the doctor stood in front of your family. Jake shifted in his seat, putting his hand on your thigh, "You need to do it."

"What?"

"No," You and Jake spoke at the same time.

Your mother shook her head, "I can't be the one. . .," Tears clogged her throat, "I can't be the one who takes him-"

Jake scoffed, sitting up straight in his chair, his grip tightening on your thigh, "And you want your daughter to-"

"Jake," You sighed. There was no use in fighting. After all, you were the eldest. You knew eventually you would be the one who gets stuck making the medical choices for your parents. You just assumed you'd have more time to prepare. You rolled your shoulders back and looked at the doctor, "What do I need to sign?"

"It was such a lovely service," Your aunt Marjorie said, patting Jake's hand as he spoke to him. It was true, you had done a fantastic job planning a funeral for your father, all by yourself. Jake had helped you the best that he could, going with you to pick out a casket and a grave plot and music and flowers, "That Y/N was always Lee's favorite."

"I know," Jake gave Aunt Marjorie his best gentleman smile, the one that made his dimple pop out, "She's a special girl."

"Oh and how brave she was standing in front of everyone and speaking?" Aunt Marjorie placed her hand on her heart. Jake nodded his head, wishing that he could be anywhere else than in a conversation with Aunt Marjorie, "And that Miranda," Aunt Marjorie scoffed, looking over at where your mother sat stoic on the couch, "Looks like she's going to be the next to go."

Jake clenched his jaw, pulling his eyes away from your mother. He had his own thoughts and feelings about her, ones that he had shared with you one night during a heated fight.

"She has abandoned you!" Jake yelled, as you angrily pulled the blankets back on the bed. You were exhausted and just wanted to sleep in your bed for one night. You had managed to get your mother to stay with your father for the night, which was like pulling teeth, "You need her to be the parent and she's not."

"She is grieving too, Jake," You sighed.

"And you're not!?"

"I am," You ran a hand down your face, "I just handle it differently. I've always been the strong rock. The one who doesn't cry. The one who holds others when they cry," You sat down on the bed, your body heavy with exhaustion.

"And I know that, baby," Jake rounded the bed, and sat down beside you. He grabbed your hand, holding it in his own, "You are strong. You are incredibly fucking strong. . . but you shouldn't have to be the strong one right now. You shouldn't be the one pulling all nighters by your dad's side. You shouldn't be the one making medical decisions on your father's behalf. Even though you are an adult. . . Y/N, baby, you're still his child. Your mother should-"

"I don't want to have this conversation anymore," You pulled your hand away from Jake, "My mom isn't well, and she needs me to help her-"

"Bullshit," Jake scoffed, "She is abandoning you and you know it."

You clenched your jaw, holding back the anger radiating in your body. Jake held a tiny bit of hope that maybe, just maybe you'd lash out at him. That you'd show some type of emotion after being a near zombie these past 8 days. But instead, you stood up quietly and left the room, choosing to go sleep in your son's room instead.

Jake had drown out Aunt Marjorie's talking, his eyes landing on you across the room. You had opened up your home to your family, your father's fire crew, Jake's squad and friends for a meal and drinks following the funeral. You had done a great job at not falling apart during the service or the burial, but Jake could tell that the rope was starting to fray. And right now, it was about to snap as you were talking animatedly with your sister across the room in a small alcove.

"Hey, Aunt Marjorie," Jake turned back to look at the 80 year old woman, "It was lovely catching up with you, but I need to go help Y/N with something. We should do coffee some time."

"Oh yes, that'd be-"

"Great, see you later," Jake quickly made his way over to you, not bothering to hear the rest of Aunt Marjorie's response.

The last thing you wanted to do in a houseful of guests from your father's funeral, was get into an argument with your sister, but here you were. Claire was the baby of the family, the one who got away with the most. Your relationship with Claire was rocky, as the line between sister and mother-figure had gotten crossed while you were growing up. You wanted what was best for Claire, and sometimes that required extra tough love and parenting.

"You are high!" You exclaimed.

"I am not," Claire's voice was slightly slurred. Jake's nose scrunched up as he walked into the room, smelling the distinct scent of marijuana.

"My whole damn shed smells like marijuana, Claire," You crossed your arms over your chest, "This isn't like you. What is going on? Talk to me."

"Oh god," Claire rolled her eyes, "Here she goes again. Acting like my mother!"

"Well!" You scoffed, throwing your arms in the air. Jake stood behind you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. In the past couple days, you had shrugged off any sort of comfort that Jake offered you, but now, you welcomed it, "You smoked a joint before you walked into dad's funeral! Smoked another one in my shed, where your niece and nephew play. And don't even get me started on how you reeked like vod-"

"Y/N," Your mother's voice filled the air, making all three of you look towards her, "Let's not do this now."

"No," You shook your head, "Let's do this now. Your daughter is high. She smoked up in my garage and then walked into my house smelling like a dispensary."

Your mom looked over at your sister and then back at you. You felt a pang in your chest as you watched her silently side with your sister. The familiar burning sensation of tears prickled at your eyes and nose.

"She's grieving," Your mother simply answered.

You scoffed, "And who isn't?"

"Y/N,"

"Forget it," You shook your head, "It's nothing, it's fine. It's always fucking fine."

For the rest of the afternoon, you made yourself busy, staying far away from your mother and sister. Jake remained within arms reach of you, his presence comforting and not overbearing. You had finally sat down, and managed to get something in your stomach. It must've been evident on your face, but the guests had only said a couple words to you before going on their way. It took nearly four hours, but all the guests had left, filling your house with a silence you hadn't heard in nearly 10 days.

Jake had taken the burden of cleaning everything up, while you sat on the back porch, watching the sunset with a glass of wine in your hand. The cool San Diego winter breeze felt nice against your heated skin.

"The house is finally, back to normal," Jake announced as he walked out onto the back porch. Natasha had gratefully volunteered to take your children for the night, so you and Jake could decompress.

"Thank you, daddy," You smiled sweetly at him, as he sat down next to you on the porch swing.

"Of course, baby," He said, and held out a white gift box, "Someone left this for you."

You furrowed your eyebrows, taking the box from him and lifting the lid. Your breath caught in your throat as you lifted the small, gold pocket watch from the box.

"Y/N," Jake said softly.

You looked up at him with tears in your eyes, "I always wanted this," You ran your hand over the engraved hummingbird on the gold casing, "It was from my grandfather's jewelry store and it quit working. My dad said he was going to get it fixed and give it to me as a wedding gift, but he lost it. . . I-I don't know-"

"Well, does it work?" Jake asked.

You swallowed, opening the face of the watch open. To your surprise, it did work. The second hand ticked around in perfect time as the watch seemed to already be set to the correct time. The beautiful watch had a colorful humming bird painted onto the face in the middle of the black Roman numeral numbers, and gold watch hands.

"It's perf- oh, c'mon," You cursed, as the watch stopped ticking. You tapped the glass face a couple of times, trying to maybe, just maybe get it up and ticking, "C'mon! You just. . . worked! C'mon!"

"Baby," Jake spoke, gently placing his hand on your wrist.

"No! It has to work! It has to!"

"Baby, it's okay," Jake assured you, "It's o-"

"Nothing is okay!" You snapped, looking up at him as the tears had finally escaped your eyes, "Nothing about any of this is okay!" You pushed yourself up from the porch swing, rushing to the edge of the patio and throwing the watching across the yard with a scream. Jake closed his eyes as loud sobs escaped from your lugs, as the grief had finally seemed to rush to you.

He stood up from the porch swing and enveloped you in his arms. You sagged against him, feeling his arms tighten around you to be able to hold you up. Jake hushed you, placing a hand on the back of your head, and his chin on the top.

"Let it out, baby," Jake encouraged you, running a hand over your hair, "Let it all out, baby."

You weren't sure how long you stood there in Jake's arms and cried, but he eventually picked you up, after feeling your legs grow weak. He carried you through the house, to your shared bedroom, sitting you down gently on the bed. You didn't even need to tell him what to do as he moved through the bedroom with familiarity, grabbing you nightgown, taking you out of your dress, washing the make-up from your face and applying your moisturizer.

"What do you need from me, baby?" Jake asked, as he kneeled in front of you, sliding your socks on your feet.

"I don't know," Your voice was raspy as you looked at him confused, "I've never. . . I've never felt-"

"I know," Jake nodded his head, "I know you haven't, and it can be scary the first time you just. . . lose it all." Jake could remember the first time he had ever broken down like you had. It was terrifying as he cried and destroyed the things around him. It felt like it was never going to end as one thing after another had set him off, until he was on the ground in the fetal position, withering, "But it will all be okay. I'm here to help you. Let me help you."

You nodded your head, tears springing to your eyes again. Jake cooed, and pulled you into his arms again as the tears fell down your cheeks.

taglist: @desert-fern @mygyn @cherrycola27 @sio-ina-bottle @seitmai @topgun-imagines @bradleybeachbabe @na-ta-sh-aa @startrekfangirl2233 @xoxabs88xox @atarmychick007 @lunamoonbby @sophiaslastbraincell @bradswolfe @fandom-princess-forevermore @thedroneranger @angelbabyange @dempy @lovelywiseprincess @krismdavis @eternallyvenus @dakotakazansky @pono-pura-vida @starberryhorse @daggersquadphantom @gspenc @poppyalice2001 @els-marvelvsp @nyx2021 @frazie99 @t0kyoreveng3rs @kmc1989 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @malindacath @badasspizzalover @justenoughmadnesss @sagittarius-flowerchild @hardballoonlove @harrysgothicbitch @hookslove1592 @yujibubs @noonenuts @marvellouscroissant

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#top gun #top gun fan fic #top gun fan fiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fan fic #top gun maverick fan fiction #Jake seresin #Jake seresin fan fic #Jake seresin fan fiction #Jake seresin imagine #Jake seresin x reader #Jake seresin x you #Jake hangman seresin #hangman seresin #hangman #hangman fan fic #hangman fan fiction #hangman imagine #hangman x you #hangman x reader #hangman x y/n #Jake seresin x y/n

[halucynator]

YOU COULD'VE DIED!

So I had this request and I totally forgot about it and I'm so so so so so so so sorry lol

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of weight, anxiety attacks, eating disorder, reader has adhd, not proof read and my writing lol

Request: So the reader a long time ago like when she was eighth/9ish used to be on the bigger side before her adhd meds and then got really skinny and stuff and timeskip to sixth year her meds don’t really work aswelll so she starts getting an appetite that was usually suppressed and she quit quidditch last year because of stress and her biggest fear is secretly getting fat again and she starts to have so much anxiety about it

WARNING: I am in no way shaming any one in this text. You are beautiful the way you are. I'm just adhering to the request. I do not agree with anything horrible about weight or anything else you can think of that is in this text.

I'm also really really sorry if you go through eating disorders or something similar to what's mentioned in this text x stay strong xx you're not alone 💕

Most people have nightmares about psycho killers in white masks with a knife who are really crazily into fictional movies they try to make it reality. Most people have nightmares about falling from really high cliffs with jagged edges that could rip you in half quicker than the speed of the platform 9¾'s train. Most people have nightmares about burning in fires that could kill you probably faster than the Dursleys burnt Harry's hogwarts letters.

But not you. You had nightmares about gaining weight. About being the girl that you were when you were nine. You hated your ADHD but oh those adhd meds really helped you to stop being the obese person you were. You were disgusted by your younger self even though you shouldn't have been.

You sat in the Great Hall processing your nightmare. You knew you had a normal weight, probably even lower than healthy. And yet you looked around at all those pretty girls with effortless hourglass bodies and wished you could look like them. You knew you had a normal weight and yet your dreams, or perhaps nightmares, kept on taunting you about it.

Those thoughts clouded your mind. Filled your head. Over and over. And over. Until you felt like starving yourself. And you'd do that until you fainted and realised it's really unhealthy. But then it'd be too late and this vicious cycle continued until you felt like you couldn't do it anymore. Until you were sick of being yourself. Until you wished you were anyone but yourself. Until y-

"Hey y/n!" Theo greeted you as he entered the Great Hall. He was the first one there. After you of course. He grabbed a vanilla cupcake with strawberry icing and sprinkles for himself and a chocolate cupcake with chocolate icing for you.

"here I got you a chocolate cupcake with chocolate icing. Your favourite." Theo smiled as he passed it on to you.

Even though your heart wanted to accept it, your brain knew better.

"no I'm fine, really! Thanks so much though! I'm full" you replied. as if to reprimand you, your stomach rumbled.

"your stomach disagrees" he chuckled. "go on have it it's fine it's just a cupcake"

You knew he was trying to be a good friend. You knew he was looking out for you at yet it was so hard for you to suppress the urge to scream "just a cupcake? JUST A CUPCAKE?! well, I'll have you know that cupcake contains sugar and butter which stores in your body as fat so you wouldn't even suggest it unless you hated me" you obviously didn't say it out loud. You knew you were overreacting in your head.

"erm no thanks." You politely turned the offer of the cupcake down.

"Ya sure?" He asked one last time.

"yup." You replied.

"alright suit yourself" Blaise said as he leaned across the table to get the cupcake from your side.

You didn't have dinner that night and the couple of nights after either. You knew you should've. But you were so insecure about your weight you just couldn't. So you didn't. And you should've. You really should've.

Unfortunately for you, you realised that too late.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡*:☆

You woke up on a white bed. Where were you? You glanced around. There was no way. You were in a hospital bed. After Theo explained it to you, you realised what had happened. On your way to the dorm you had fainted due to the lack of food. You had no energy left in your body and it finally gave out. Theo had realised you had fainted and had carried you to the Madam Pomfrey's. He looked strangely cross at you.

"T-thanks" you replied to him.

"for what?" He said. "I couldn't save you."

"you kinda did" you said smiling at him.

He pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to you. It was a cookie.

Before you could say no, he cut you off.

"you are eating this cookie right now or I will never forgive myself for letting you starve yourself."

You reluctantly grabbed the cookie.

"you didn't make me starve myself. I did it to myself. It's not your fault." You replied as you broke a piece off the cookie.

"but why?" He asked.

"sorry?"

"why did you starve yourself"

"erm i well i had a nightmare I was gaining weight and I thought I was I had gained half a kilogram since last year and I just thought I'd look ugly and I just didn't want to not be liked by anyone!" there it was. The word vomit. The bundle of feelings inside of you all out to the one person you thought would be disgusted by you if you ever gained weight. The one person you loved.

"Woah! Slow down. No matter how many kilograms you put in you'll never be fat or ugly! I can't believe you let a nightmare lead you on! You can't have an unhealthy relationship with food!" He exclaimed.

"you're just saying that."

"I'm not just saying that. I mean it y/n. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I fell in love with you and a couple kilograms isn't gonna change that." He replied.

"Aw- wait you what?!" You asked realising what he just said.

"I thought it was obvious? I love you y/n. I always have" Theo said. "but I'm still cross at you for not eating food."

"ok ok I'm sorry." You replied.

"YOU COULD'VE DIED!" Pansy exclaimed bursting into the room.

"Jesus Christ Pansy! You almost gave me a heart attack!" You said shocked at her entrance.

But you knew her words were right. And so were Theo's. From that moment you tried to prevent yourself from starving yourself and with the support of Theo and all your friends it was that much more easy.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡*:☆

A/n: the ending kinda sucks lol sorry for the lateness of this x hope you liked it!!

Taglist: @m3ntallyunstable34 lmk if you want to be added to my taglist (through asks or you can message me x I'll always respond ❤️)

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #theodore nott #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #lorenzo zurzolo #theo x reader #theodore nott imagine #theo fluff #theo nott x reader #theodore

[nyrasproblm]

Ignorance

part 1/?

Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: You confess to Joel and are rejected.

Word Count: 2K

Warning: angst, rejection, mention of the Apocalypse (don't tell me), mention of deaths.

Ignoring the bad part of things was your favorite thing to do. It made you less sad and gave a false sense of normality in the destroyed and rotten reality you lived in. Not that Jackson was destroyed and rotten, but the world outside the gates was. So that's why you ignored everything, the spores, the cordyceps, the clickers, runners, lurkers, all of them. You did everything to escape being put on patrol, you wouldn't leave Jackson unless it was a matter of life and death. Your tasks in the community were taking care of the gardens, the stables and cleaning the community cafeteria.

It seems like a lot, but it's good for not looking idle and useless, it takes up your entire day and gives you a feeling of work accomplished and satisfaction at the end of the day, when you climb the few old wooden steps to the porch of your house. Those steps really need replacing, actually. If you stood still for more than a few minutes on top of them you ran the risk of falling. But you left that aside, you had something else in mind. In fact, you had one person in mind.

That almost completely gray-haired man, with a grey beard, robust, deep and serious voice, strong Texan accent. Joel Miller. You couldn't stand being around him for more than a few minutes, your heart was beating very quickly and you felt butterflies in your stomach. The man was Ellie's father, a girl a few years younger than you, she was a bit foul-mouthed but nice, you had already spoken to her a few times.

You held your breath from the first time you saw him in the community a year ago, and it's never been the same since. Whenever you passed him on the streets you held an idiotic sigh, you felt like a teenager for acting like that, but you couldn't help it. The man had your heart in his hands and you couldn't do anything to get it back.

Some people in Jackson spoke badly about Joel behind his back, saying he was a surly, violent man who had a lot of mood swings. One of your few friends, Emily, said the same thing when you mentioned Joel to her, but you ignored it. It wasn't like he was that bad, it should just be that the hard years he lived outside the gates were taking a toll on him, but you were sure he was a good person.

You said this to Emily, but she reiterated that Joel was an extremely violent and bad-tempered man who had done terrible things in the outside world. You chuckled and said 'and who hasn't done terrible things out there?'. Emily sighed and the conversation ended there

Holidays in Jackson were celebrated without fail, especially the most famous ones, like Christmas and New Year, but Maria began to innovate and encourage other things, like spring food festivals, Mother's Day, and Valentine's Day. It seemed strange to celebrate Valentine's Day at the end of the world, but the young people in the community seemed to get excited, you included, so hearts and pink things were hung on the doors of the houses and some lights were painted pink too, in the community bar.

Oh, one thing that wasn't mentioned: your house was almost opposite Joel's house. A coincidence. You took advantage of the Valentine's Day arrangements and picked up some decorations to hang in your house, a medium pink paper heart was glued, and next to it two small red hearts. You pulled away and smiled widely as you looked at the minimal decorations that gave some life to the almost colorless landscape.

You heard heavy footsteps trampling the snow and turned to see the man himself, shotgun slung over his shoulders, backpack on his back and a tired expression on his face. Joel looked directly at your door, then looked at you and shook his head and turned to enter his own without saying anything.

You let out an excited squeal along with other women whenever someone confessed to their loved one or handed over a hastily made card. The number of these events had been increasing since the community was dressed up for the holiday. You couldn't wait to do the same, you had already planned everything, you had handmade a card for Joel, it wasn't pink or red, he didn't seem to like those things very much. It was a nice card that could be used to decorate his room, or something like that, if he didn't actually have a room.

You wouldn't do that in front of everyone, you knew Joel was an older and reserved man, he didn't seem to like attention. You didn't know his schedule, you only saw him occasionally passing home at dusk, so that's what you did: you sat on your sofa below the window and waited until Joel passed by. As soon as he appeared in your field of vision with the same thick beige jacket, the same shotgun slung over his shoulder, the same worn brown backpack and the same heavy boots you stood up and took a deep breath. She watched until he entered the house and closed the door, then took the card from the coffee table and put on his coat, opened the door and took the few steps it took until he arrived at Joel's house.

The card you had prepared was made of yellow paper, folded in half, it had a bee drawn with your best artistic gifts and right below it there was the phrase 'Bee mine?' in large black letters. You let out a giggle through your nose and walked up the few steps to Joel's house, knocked on the door softly and waited.

You didn't notice, but the window curtain moved to open a tiny crack, where Joel peeked out. A few seconds later the door opened and you caught your breath. There he was, he looked tired and you felt bad for going to talk to him at this time. Shaking your head slightly, you were about to start speaking, but before you could open your mouth, Joel spoke:

"May I help you?" the hoarse voice spoke.

"Oh, good night." you said shyly after a few minutes. "I... I wanted to, uhm–"

"Listen, young lady, I don't mean to be rude, but I just got here and I'm tired." he continued.

You swallowed hard and took the card from behind your back, holding it towards him.

"I-I was hoping to talk, but you're tired, so... here it is, I made it for you." you waved the card but he didn't move to take it. "It's for Valentine's Day."

Your stomach was churning, his expression didn't look very good, he looked very seriously at you, then looked at the card.

"You can take it, it’s for you–” you tried to extend the card to him again.

"I'm sorry, but, did you really think this was a good idea, girl?" the tone of voice was rude now. "Coming over to my house like that and handing me a piece of paper?"

"I– uhm, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you." you swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I just wanted to give the card I made."

"And why do you want to give me this bullshit so much?"

You had your face lowered but you looked up, slightly wide-eyed at his aggressive sentence, consumed by a wave of angry courage you blurted out:

"I really like you."

"What?" he said mockingly after a few seconds. "Do you really like me?"

"Yes." you answered bravely, still feeling the lump in your throat. "I– I really like you, I mean… I mean I'm in love with you."

Joel stared at your face for a few seconds, as if studying you, then let out a light nasal laugh and said:

"I'm old enough to be your father, girl. Go home and don't bother me again, you seem like the pushy type."

"Listen, please, I've loved you for a long time–"

"What are you talking about, stupid girl?" he looked very angry now, his brow was furrowed and his nostrils were flared. "Love? You don't know what you're talking about."

"If you give me a chance to–"

"Go home, I told you." he said. "There's no chance of that, or anything else, I don't want anything to do with someone like you, understand? Don't bother me anymore."

Then he went back inside and slammed the door in your face.

You knew very early and came home very late to avoid laying eyes on Joel. Maybe she shouldn't have ignored the warnings about him after all, but he was still present in your heart. You shoved the card deep into your dresser, you were embarrassed to look at it now.

Ironically, now that you wanted to be more busy you had less work, winter had arrived and the ground was frozen, so the garden was at a standstill. So you dedicated yourself to the horses and cleaning the mess hall, returning home at almost the same time as always.

You hadn't told Emily what you were going to do and you hadn't told her about the rejection either, she was going to throw it in your face that she had warned you. You felt so stupid now, how could you have thought you had a chance? So much self-esteem.

The days passed quickly and you were thankful for that, but it wasn't like you forgot what happened. Your first interaction with Joel since the incident was when you were cleaning the cafeteria to close, it was already dark and it was practically empty. Mopping the floor repeatedly and sighing every now and then, you didn't see him walk through the large doors.

"Are you guys finishing early?" the thick Texan accent spoke from behind you and you froze momentarily, then turned to him with an effort of blank expression.

"This week, yes, we are down one person." you replied and went back to mopping the floor.

"Okay, thanks." he seemed to hesitate for a moment before walking outside again, and you let out a sharp breath.

The universe seemed to make fun of you and a few days later you had your next interaction with Joel.

Someone covered you in cleaning the cafeteria, so you used the free time to try to fix the rotten steps on your porch. As you repeatedly hammered the nails into place, you felt a poke on your shoulder and stopped your movements, feeling your stomach turn in knots when you saw Joel behind you.

"Can I help you?" you asked, standing up and brushing the snow and dirt off your knees.

"Do you realize it's already night? I need to go out on patrol tomorrow and you're making too much noise." he said rudely.

"Right. I'm sorry." you turned around and started picking up the tools you used, holding them against your chest and seeing the best way to climb without falling.

You had only fixed one of the steps, the one closest to the ground, so you climbed up on it and stretched your leg to try to climb over the others, but the new step wasn't securely fastened and you slipped, letting out a pathetic little scream.

You heard footsteps approaching and his arms lifting you off the ground quickly.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Joel's deep voice asked and you glanced at him sideways.

"I'm fine, thank you." you replied and saw him come closer to rest his hand on the small of your back. "Don't touch me." you exclaimed.

"I just wanted to see if you were hurt." he took a few steps back, looking embarrassed.

"I am well, thank you." you responded quickly and walked away from him, picking up the materials you used earlier again.

You balanced yourself and took a little jump to the porch, entered and closed the door.

#writing #writers on tumblr #fem reader #joel tlou #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader angst #joel x reader #tlou2 #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #rejection #rejection fic

[dduane]

Hope this isn't an ask you get all the time, but how do you track your progress when you're doing editing?

Everyone talks about word goals, and that seems fine for a first draft, but doesn't make sense to me when it comes to revisions. Do you have any kind of system for setting daily goals for your revisions?

Actually, I don't think anyone's ever asked me about this. :) So no sweat.

Briefly: I think you're wise in not attempting wordcounting in this phase of dealing with an MS—or trying to push yourself into a structure so rigid. ...There's this, too: there's a whole lot too much emphasis out there at the moment on trying to force yourself into other people's writing and editing paradigms—so many of them riddled with bar graphs and "demonstrable" daily progress. You need to find what works for you. More words dealt with in a day, sure, that's encouraging in its way. But are they the right words?

Today’s Writer Take that will probably strike some as Hot (and ask me if I care): Some kinds of writing progress are just neither graphically nor numerically quantifiable. And damned to the least TripAdvisorally-acceptable regions of [insert your preferred underworld here] be those who’ve tried to sell people the idea that they are.

(sigh)

Now, for what it's worth: here's how I do it. Which may be useful to other people, or not so much so. And that's fine, because I'm not editing their novels. :)

(Adding a break here. Under the cut: advice + advice = advice, and some images of text I shouldn't be letting y'all see just yet... but WTF.)

Revision for me is a fairly relaxed business—unless my editor has told me WE NEED THIS ON TUESDAY, which thank sweet Thoth on his e-bike is very rare.

It also helps that I like revising. (When I was a kid, I liked liver, too. And spinach. Just call me Miss Outlier and let's move on.) I really enjoy the feeling of the work’s rough edges being filed down and the sparse places being filled out.

And also: second draft/first revision draft is nowhere near as tense for me as first draft. Because, thank God, at least there's a book.

First draft is where I sweat blood and otherwise suffer. While I can see the story just fine in my head, it's not really real for me until the first draft, whole in narrative and action, is complete on paper/in the machine. And till it's achieved at least that level of reality, I can't relax.

But by the time I hit my second/revision draft, I can be confident that any really serious problems in the novel have already been solved—because I'm an outliner. In the outline stage, potential thematic or structural troubles will routinely have revealed themselves way long ago: before drafting even got started, as I first wired the story's bones together. The successfully-executed first draft acts as proof-of-concept for that structural wiring. By the time that draft’s done, it’s immediately apparent whether the skeleton can successfully stand up by itself. And gods is that a relief when it does! You’re tempted to jump around yelling “It's aliiiiiive!" as the lightning strikes around you.*

However, if after submitting that draft my editor's found something structurally or thematically troublesome in it that I've completely missed until this point, my first order of business becomes to fix whatever their notes involve and submit the fixes. Nothing further happens until the editor sees what I've done about those problems, and until I get agreement that whatever intervention I've enacted has now sorted the problems out.

After that, everything happens in bed.

(...casually noting that for a line to use somewhere else...) :)

But seriously: I do my best revision and editing before getting up in the morning.

Some of this is because, for me, the mind's nice and quiet and (theoretically) at least moderately well rested, right after sleep. I might take the briefest glance at my email first to make sure nothing urgent needs attention... but once that’s done, I refuse to let myself go any further down that hole. That early-morning calm is a mental state I'm glad to exploit, and one I jealously guard. On days when I'm forced to do without the working lie-in**, I use a different approach: when there's a pause, sit down and do nothing—no reading, no video, no music, no phone, nothing—for half an hour: then start editing. Routinely, the quiet I need will once more have fallen.

The in-bed-editing approach also works for me because (since I'm working in Scrivener) it's absolutely no big deal to finish a day's editing on a file by exporting a version of the file containing the day's edits to ebook format, and into my Dropbox. From there, in the morning, without ever getting out from under the covers, I can pull that .epub file into my tablet and read it as an ebook, making corrections and notes there.

This is what it looks like (on a page without too many corrections) if the app you're using is "Books" in an iPad. The second image is what you get when you touch on the marginal yellow square of the note to examine it.

Then, when I'm finished looking over the previous day's/evening's writing and adding notes to it, I go downstairs, get some caffeine in me, and make the changes in the main Scrivener file. (If I was running the project in question on the iPad version of Scrivener, I'd just make the change right there. But who knows when I'd actually get up, then? Better to do it this way.) :)

In the normal flow of things I'll attempt to deal with a chapter or two a day in this mode. (Always bearing in mind that my chapters in early drafts typically run long—often 10K or so—and I'm likely enough to rebreak them later.) This first level of revision is the easy one: catching typos and bad or clumsy phrasings, reworking character interactions that need smoothing out; adding better descriptive passages (with particular emphasis on staying in the visual, audio and tactile senses), etc., etc.

So again: no way I'd ever bother worrying about word counts, with these. What seems to count for more is giving yourself time to recognize, gradually, at a reader's pace, what's working in the prose and what isn't. Rush—or try to force the pace to a given number of words per day—and you run the risk of missing something vital. To me, at the tracking level, it seems sufficient to note which chapters have been dealt with, and which are still hanging fire. (I can change the chapters' color labels in Scrivener to make this status visible at a glance, if I need to.)

When everything's dealt with on this pass—which if I'm lucky will take no more than a couple/few weeks—I try to take a couple weeks off before dealing with the MS again. Sometimes that's possible: sometimes not. The longer you can leave the book alone to let your perceptions of it rest and reset themselves, the better. Distance—mental or temporal—seems to lend clarity.

In any case, for me, next comes another pass, tougher to describe. Casually, I refer to it as the "Missed Opportunities/Complications" pass. This is a thing that one of the very best writers I know, John M. Ford, used to do. One of his editors (I think it was) came across him working on an MS one time, and asked him what he was doing. "Complications," Mike muttered. "Removing them?" said his editor. Mike shook his head. "Adding them," he said.

In this pass you look for in-novel connections you've previously missed making. Some dramatic moments have their impact significantly increased if you've found a way to connect them, even casually, with previous events, situations, character thoughts, or dialogue. (The cheap and easy mnemonic for this kind of thing: "Say a thing twice, and it echoes. Say it three times, and it resonates.")

Equally, events (and people) may turn out to require more complex backstory than you've given them in your first draft; so this is where you take care of that. And of course there are almost certainly character and emotional interactions that can use attention; fewer words, more depth, more complexity. What things do these people, in this situation, need to say to one another that they haven't? And also, what drama got scamped or passed up on because you were just too damn tired in the last draft? —Because you too, poor baby, are human; and that state can, entirely logically, make you want not to deal with any more damn drama just now. Even though drama is the lifeblood of your narrative, usually, and tying a tourniquet around it really doesn't help. You are the conduit of power into your narrative, and your varying ability to conduct it is always an issue… so you need to keep an eye open for places where the flow may have temporarily failed.

This pass, ideally, might take no more than another few weeks or a month. And again, I'm not sure any attempt at wordcount tracking would do this work any good. Because, again... are they the right words? And to make the narrative more effective, you may wind up removing as many words as you added in previous passes.

Finally, with all things taken together, I usually reach a point where (by myself, anyway) I can't think of anything to do that'll make this book any better. That's where there then comes—and again, impossible to assign a word count to it—a time when you know you're as Done As You Can Be. If you've been doing this long enough, you may even hear a strange kind of sigh in the back of your head, as the book gives up and lets go...

...into the next stage of production. But even then you keep an eye on it… because in my experience it’s rare that any book's ever that easily just finished. Even in page proofs, something may happen to surprise you.

Anyway, that's when I throw the book the hell out of the house—because no matter how much I've loved it previously, by that time I'm usually seriously tired of it—and wait to see whether the editor feels it needs one more draft. (Disclosure: this has never happened. There might be a few notes that need to be handled. But another full draft? Never yet.)

Anyway: hope this is of help to you.

But the heart of it all? Find your own way, and screw the bar graphs.

*That line, too, is an indicator of trouble to come. "It's?" Not "he's"? Tsk tsk.

**Usually sort of 7-9 AM. Sometimes way earlier, depending on the time of year. Dawn comes real early in the summertime in Ireland…

#writing advice #revisions

[final-script]

Take It Or Leave It… |LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x  Leclerc!Reader

Sumary: Where you love your brothers but…

Warnings: English is not my first language !!!There are probably many mistakes (I will correct them later)

Gif: sebxvettel

------------------------------

In her final moments, Hervé made them promise her older children that you would take care of their younger sister.

He made them promise that they would not let anything happen to her and that they would always be for her.

And wow they did… They treated you like a princess.

You could say you couldn't complain about anything… except for one thing.

Since you have use of reason and since you started having some "dates" you had begun to "hate" your brothers, there was no date that they did not ruin.

You had talked to your mom about it and she said that they were just trying to protect you, that they don't misunderstand you, you understood them and you were more than grateful to them.

But… You wanted to be able to experience the power you were with someone, however with your brothers, it was becoming impossible, they scared every boy you were with.

And to be honest, that was beginning to arouse you, to such an extent that you began to hide things from them.

Only your mother and Enzo, (which we can say that despite being the oldest, he was the least overprotective of the 3), were the ones who knew some things.

At the end of the 2022 season you had started to meet with Lando, he treated you wonderfully, enjoying every moment with him.

Very afraid to start something at first, but eager too.

I understood from the beginning that you want to keep the relationship private, unless you were sure that theirs was solid enough.

(…)

The moment they talked and decided to start telling it, the first to know were, their parents and your mother.

Perosas who respected their decision, but who recommended that at some point they should tell your brothers.

(…)

L- do you think you can go to Silverstone?

Y/N- of course, I will be like in every race.

L- with me. I leave myself speechless - it is my home race and in addition to my family, I would like to have you by my side, it's okay if you don't want to, I'll understand.

You could see a look of discouragement on his face.

Y/N- go with you, I was only surprised that you chose your home race to want to tell everything, I thought you wanted a little tranquility in the midst of all the chaos and considering that it will also be official in front of my brothers, even more.

L- chaos is something I am used to, I can handle it, on your brothers, at some point they will have to know, I do not care what is now, If that means I can have you with me, at least for a career, but like I said, I understand if you don't want to, I've respected your decision forever and will continue to do so, if you want to.

Y/N- who I did to deserve you. I cradle his face in my hands. - I agree with what you say, at some point they will have to find out, you have always respected me and if you want to tell everyone now, okay, I can also get probecho of this situation, everyone will know that you are mine.

We both laughed and kissed.

L- I will talk to the team and let you know that we will be one more this time.

Y/N- and I must warn mom not to come with her. L- and your brothers?

Y/N- when we get together, you will have your own answers.

L-hope to survive.

(…)

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous, talking about making everything public was one thing, but doing it was something else.

As we got closer to the circuit, everything began to become real.

My head generated all kinds of scenarios.

But one that I was sure of and boy had I been thinking about it, for nothing in the world was going to let my brothers get into my relationship.

I loved being protected, but it's time they let me live.

I came back to reality when the car stopped.

L- are you ready?    I hold my hand before I get out of the car.

Y/N- list.          A short kiss before he came down to open the door for me like an English gentleman. 

As expected, many cameras turned to see us, so he took my hand tightly and together with his coach we entered the Paddock.

Inside, surprised looks and gestures were not lacking.

You had managed to calm down a little thanks to the grip of your boyfriend, but again the tension returned when in the distance and as if it were a joke, your 3 brothers were facing each other.

Y/N- I think now I should ask, are you ready?

L- I would be lying if I said yes, but... There is no turning back.

We were at the entrance of the hospitality of Maclaren and a few mentros was that of Ferrari, so as they had already seen us, we would simply wait for them to approach.

Finally they did, but before they spoke I stopped them. 

Y/N- before they start acting like they always do, stop, I'm not going to let them mess this time, not anymore, I understand that they want to protect me, but it's time for them to let me live, don't misunderstand me, I love them, but already vast.

Lando's arm encircled my waist in a supportive manner. 

Y/N- so... It's their decision, I take it or leave it, but I'm not going to part with it.   

Judging by his expressions, my words were not expected.

A- Since when?

CH- Lando and your…

Y/N- Enzo?      He was always the one who had something to say, but strangely he was completely silent.

E- I think I speak for all three, Where you hurt our sister, you are in serious trouble.

Lando released the air that had been contained and took the floor.

L- believe me, it's not in my plans.

Ch- since when?.   He seemed to have recovered from shock.

Y/N - at the end of last season.

A- maman, you know?

 L- she and my parents were the first to know.

CH- I think we can't say much more than what Enzo said, you'll damage our sister and most likely you'll get a slight touch on one of your wheels.       I opened my eyes greatly.

Y/N- CHARLES!!

CH- which?!?!, I'm just saying.

Y/N- no one will touch anyone.

Everything went better than I thought and I was grateful for that.

Although she was sure that they would not remain silent and corner Lando as soon as they had the chance.

-----------------------

ANOTHERS

The Best Kept Secret - Arthur Leclerc X Reader

Grateful, Excited and Expectant - Lando Norris X Reader

#lando norris #f1 #lando norris one shot #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #arthur leclerc imagine #arthur leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine

[charmedreincarnation]

hey charm !

i have known about manifestation for years now but i still have a problem with it. so basically, i know for sure that i’m going to enter the void but i don’t know when. everytime something happens in my life, i’m like "it doesn’t matter anyway bc i’m going to manifest my dream life". i have been daydreaming all the time for years so it’s very natural for me. as i see myself in stories that my brain creates, i started doing the same for my dream life. now, i know exactly what it will look like and i live those scenarios in my head like if they were really happening.

the problem is that when i want to enter the void, i’m always trying (i don’t really see myself succeeding) bc i’m scared that if i put too much effort in it or if i really believe it and i don’t succeed i’ll be discouraged.

i really don’t know what to do bc i realized that if i continue just trying and thinking "i’ll get my dream life later" i’ll never manifest it. also i don’t understand the wish fulfilled state bc i feel like i’m already doing it by daydreaming and being sure that i’m going to have my dream life. i want to convince myself that i can enter the void and get everything i want RIGHT NOW and not "later if i’m lucky enough". i feel stuck and i don’t know what to do anymore to keep going.

i’m sorry for the long ask and my bad english…

thank you 🤍🤍

Hi love, first and foremost your English is even better than mine so don’t apologize, and secondly I struggled with this so badly I completely understand.

It's easy to feel stuck waiting for what you want to come to fruition. Even though you might sense that your desire is on its way, it can seem far off, like it's in the future instead of the present. Time passing can make this feeling even stronger, even though time is always moving forward, which makes it even more contradictory. But feeling comfortable and sure that what you want is already yours is the important feeling. By focusing on the idea that your desire is already part of your life, you will shift from waiting for the future to feeling like your desires are already here and now. That's why it's emphasized in the community that you should allow yourself to believe deeply in the fulfillment of your desires right now.

When you really embrace the natural feeling of knowing that your desire is already a part of your life, you will naturally align your thoughts and feelings, with the state of having what you want regardless of the method or technique you’re using to achieve it. That’s what helps me feel confident about making my desires a reality.

seriously understand what you want isn't just something for the future; it's a part of your life right now.The process of manifestation isn't just about daydreaming or imagining your desired reality though that helps. It's about deeply believing that what you want is already real. Shifting your mindset from waiting for luck to deserving and capable of having your dream life will always give you comfort. Also to overcome feeling stuck, i liked practicing mindfulness and using affirmations. Being mindful will help you stay focused on the present, while affirmations helped strengthen my belief!

It's also helpful to detach from the need for immediate results. By letting go of the pressure for instant success, it should reduce your anxiety and allow your inner world to work its magic while staying true to your intentions. Because regardless of how long you think it will take, if you understand it’s immediate and time is passing regardless you will stop trying to fight with the concept of “waiting.” I also recommend reading my time post and this one as well!

Regardless It's natural to feel unsure at times, but start by nurturing your belief in the wish fulfilled state and keep doing what else keep your mind at bay with knowing you really don’t have to do anything unless you want to. Because you’re always doing eveything right

#law of assumption #manifesation #manifesting #void state #my asks

[glitterdoll888]

I love Neville's “You are already that which you want to be, and your refusal to believe it is the only reason you do not see it.” because I finally get it. like yeah it's pretty self explanatory, but now I see why. follow my line of thought:

the whole LoA/nondualism community tells you that you can do it, you already have it, etc. and I don't know about you guys, but I know it. I know my Self, I know I actually Am everything so technically I have everything, I know living as this ego is a simple choice, just like it would be choosing to be someone else, anyone. but I'll admit it: I still don't believe it. even though it makes sense, even though I can logically prove it to myself, I (unintentionally) refuse to believe it. out of fear. of what, I'm not sure. but I know it's the only reason I don't "materialize my desires". and I take full responsibility for it. Yes, I know I Am who I want to be already, but I don't believe it, and that's why I don't see it "in the 3D".

so if you're like me, let's fix that, alright? ignore your doubts, don't argue with or entertain them, give them no importance. having a doubt is meaningless if you don't allow it to affect you. you are the one giving reality to it. you're the one allowing it to "keep you from your desires". a doubt is just a thought. the meaning you assign to them is what gives them any power at all. every doubt you have ever had only affected you because you recognized it as something that could affect you in the first place. but the Self is above thoughts. thoughts are from the Ego, so they have nothing to do with you - unless you identify as the Ego. but then again, that's your choice. Believe it.

#manifesting #loa #loassumption #manifestation #nondualism #non dualism