nevermind.! i was not ready and also very foolish 😨 iwill never be talking to anyone . Again . if i post , and you see it . mind your own business !!!!!!! ok , ilove you 👍
im ok but i just saw that transphobic ask in my inbox and the soul got sucked from my body 😦 i was thinking i needed to “get ready” if i ever wanted to wrie xreaders again and imnot going to lie to you , returning here was scary but maybe ! Maybe i am not quite there yet
I am 😸👍 mentally ill, hawks lost wings blah blah blah, scientist reader!!!, codepency i cant really tag it with anything else because not a lot happens here, a date, relationship issues, very very desperate keigo (even if he does Not show it)
(A/N) ha. hrrrgg. ahha!!
———
You’d stared at the email for such a long time. It was easy to forget that Keigo still had your work one. But he wasn’t asking you about research, or your experiments, or the cure to his missing wings. Instead, it was a plan, a place and a time and five words at the very end that struck through your soul.
“I want to see you.”
With shaking fingers, you left him with a one word response that stood out against the rest of the glaringly white screen.
“Okay.”
———
“I didn’t break up with you because I didn’t like you,” You tell him, looking right into his eyes. He seems to wither under your gaze, shrinking into his seat. “I broke up with you because I didn’t like what you were doing.”
“I just-“ He begins, stopping to swallow his mouthful of chicken. For a man that seemed to thrive on exciting experiences when he was out on the field, Keigo sure seems to like predictability, especially in what he ate. You’ve known that for a while, though. Nothing about the mask he put on to be a pro-hero was quite as it seemed. “I just think we should give it another chance.”
You grimace, not willing to hide it whatsoever. “Another chance.”
There’s a clatter of plates in the background. The buzz of the restaurant is far too lively for the nausea in the pit of your stomach.
“Yeah,” He replies, standing his ground. “It was my job that caused those problems in me. Now that I don’t have one...”
He trails off, laughing shakily. More fragile than you’ve ever seen him. You try to slow your empathy from flooding your body, resisting reaching across to touch him, to soothe him. It’s hard. It seems that you’ve never quite managed to abandon that habit.
“You have a job,” You reply, keeping your voice low. “Aren’t you an ambassador? Still working for the commission in a way?”
“Yes and no,” He sighs. “They can’t just discard me now. But they will.”
“Don’t use that word. Didn’t we talk about this?”
You wish you could take the words back the moment you hear them fly out your mouth, because all of a sudden this elated smile spreads across Keigo’s face. The reassurance that you’re still willing to dote on him, keep him stable. You’re not meant to be babysitting a man who needs a real therapist, though. You vowed to yourself that you wouldn’t give your energy away so easily anymore. Yet, here you are.
You shouldn’t have agreed to this.
“Thanks,” He says, voice weak. All throughout the conversation, he’s been breaking and putting himself back together. Spontaneously. More than he’d ever been before. “Sometimes I forget that I’m a person.”
You stare into your plate, distinguishing one grain of rice from the next. You can’t bear to look at him.
“Mm.”
You’re not trash, Keigo. They never deserved you, Keigo. You’re more than what they say you are, Keigo.
“But,” He begins, quickly refocusing. “Would you be willing to give me another chance? You never answered.”
Your head is heavy to lift, but you manage. His golden eyes are sparkling yet analytical, watching your every movement with intense curiosity. If he still had his wings, they’d be fluffed up behind him, perhaps tilting slightly towards you or giving a nervous flap. They were so big, weren’t they? Massive. Seeing him without them is like seeing a different person. Hell, even when he came home from work when you were still with him, seeing him without his full set of feathers could be a shock.
It’s probably worse for him.
“I... I’m not sure.”
You don’t want to make him cry. It’s always awful seeing Keigo cry. He does it rarely, but you know him, and he’s been looking close to it this whole time.
“To be honest,” You begin, pushing the rice around the plate with your chopsticks. “I don’t think you’re ready for a relationship. I think you need friends and a support network.”
He’s going to hate that. And he does. His eyebrows furrow and his body deflates slightly.
An idea. Eyes sparkling again. Perking up.
“Can you be a friend, then?”
You grit your teeth.
“I like talking to you, that’s all,” He continues. “No big commitments. Free dinner, too- I’ll pay for our meet-ups.”
He gestures to the table. You suck in a breath.
“Friends..? I think... I think so.”
Your thoughts are going at a million miles per minute as you try to come up with a plan. Friends- that’s such a flexible term. No big commitments. You could leave anytime. You could get away with texting him once a week- provide any level of friendship you wanted.
You’d missed him. That slight sense of optimism in you grabbed onto anything it could get and absolutely refused to focus on any negativity within your old relationship with Keigo. You’d remembered sun-soaked mornings in his embrace. You had pushed the fighting and his paranoia to the back of your mind.
Which there was a lot of. And all because of his job, he claimed.
“If,” You say quickly, before he can get a word in edgeways. “You see a therapist. And I’m not your only friend in all of this.”
“I’m already seeing a therapist,” He says, practically vibrating with excitement. Already, you can tell that this was a horrible idea. “And I’ve got Rumi and Todoroki.”
Work friends, right.
You didn’t want to correct him on anything or interrogate him on if those people were actually his friends, or merely colleagues that he had a good relationship with. There was no doubting that he’d been out with Todoroki and Rumi a few times but you’d always assumed it was for work related purposes. When he came back and you’d asked him how those meetings had went, he’d always reply with some vague answer- the ones he reserved for when you asked him about work. It seemed painfully obvious to you. Perhaps not to him, though. You’d always gotten the impression that- despite his charisma- Keigo never really knew what constituted a bond.
Still, it would insensitive to comment on that right now. Despite your regrets, you weren’t willing to soil his happiness. It would be cruel.
“Alright then. In that case, we can be friends.”
“What evenings are you free?” He asks. You pull out your phone. “And can you unblock my number? Please?”
You sigh, flicking to the contacts page and telling him that you’d actually gotten a new phone, to which he allowed you to tap in his number once again.
Keigo. He’s saved as Keigo. Nothing special, not the witty little nicknames you had for him at the start of your relationship, not the more endearing ones you had at the end. You text him to make sure it works, and your stomach sinks a little more when you hear his phone buzz in his hand.
———
When you finally find yourself at home, you’re still staring at your phone. He hasn’t texted yet- of course not, he appeared to be handling the situation with extreme caution, lest you think he’d returned to his old ways. Which would be unpleasant. You couldn’t bear anymore of that, and had tried your hardest to eliminate any form of clinginess or excessive protection from your life, even if it didn’t come from him. Your boundaries were clearer now, walls higher. You wouldn’t be wasting emotional energy on someone who didn’t have your best intentions at heart.
That’s where you sympathised with Keigo, though. His intentions may have not been the best to you, but he didn’t admit to being in the wrong until the end of the relationship when he was trying to save it. All throughout, you could tell that he didn’t feel like he was doing anything wrong.
He’d admitted it again before he left today. That he was incorrect in keeping you so unnecessarily close to him. That he wouldn’t do it again.
You’re not sure if you can trust that.
Not that Keigo had a track record of breaking promises. Rather, he’d carefully word things to ensure that he wasn’t lying to you. And you’d always assume things about what he actually meant. Those assumptions were never correct.
Taking your shoes off, you’re still glancing up at your phone sitting idly on the coffee table. On. You must’ve forgotten to turn it off out of anticipation for a message from him.
There’s nothing yet. You pick it up and take a good look at your planner, grimacing as you jot down the dates that you’d agreed to meet him at. Twice per week. Free dinner. He’d pick you up- it wasn’t even much effort and you’d be saving money. Silver lining, you guessed.
The only inescapable factor that you couldn’t make look good was Keigo himself. You’d only agreed to the previous meeting out of a strange concoction of anxiety and hope, his sudden demand to meet up simultaneously scared you and made you foolishly giddy to see how he was doing. To catch up. His presence may have been gone from your life for the longest time and the opportunity to fulfil your curiosity was seized with little to no thought. A silly move, in retrospect. It had been a long time, though. Wouldn’t you be better off letting go of your feelings so that you can get the most out of a friendship with him?
You’re not holding a grudge, you tell yourself as you close over the planner.
You’re remembering how you were treated and you’re trying to avoid that happening again.
Things had ended abruptly, too. You felt like there was going to be more of a gradual descent into dysfunction but one day you simply decided that you’d put up with enough and escaped his grip before Keigo could try and lock you in anymore than he already had.
With a shudder, you remember his ramblings about a baby.
(In some weird, bird-like fashion, Keigo’s top priority wasn’t to get married. It was to impregnate you, and only then would he consider your partnership firm.)
Something lingers in your thoughts as you shower that night.
The fact that in all of the time you’d been separated, you don’t think Keigo’s dated a single person.
And the drifting noise of a joke he made about mating for life.
———
Tuesday swings by quicker than expected, making you feel like you’re racing through the days. You’d hardly acknowledged that the dates Keigo were suggesting for your little meet-ups would one day transform into real events. It had shocked you to check the calendar on your phone and immediately be confronted with the notification that you had “Dinner with Keigo” at 5:30pm.
You’ve been dreading it all day. Seeing him is going to be hard. You’re not even sure what you’ll talk about. You’re probably going to be emotionally exhausted after dealing with him and unable to do anything once you return home.
When he shows up he’s wearing a fairly casual outfit and a warm smile. It’s his normal clothes, reassuring you that you didn’t need to put on anything fancy.
It’s like he’s trying desperately to reassure you that everything is fine. He does everything except talking to you about it, choosing to focus on the weather instead whilst you both drive to the restaurant.
You look off into the gloomy horizon and immediately feel horribly like you’re in an unforeseen situation. Keigo talks like he’s never even met you before, as if trying to lay down the groundwork for a fresh start.
Your old version of small talk was more energised. Better. Keigo doesn’t like talking about things like the weather, how your family’s doing, what you’ve been up to recently. He enjoys the back-and-forth of a slightly argumentative conversation about things like... historical events. Or religion. Things like that.
And hearing him say, “I hope it doesn’t rain tomorrow. I was hoping to go on a walk. Been doing that more recently, for obvious reasons.”- is a foreign sound to your ears.
You hum along to his chatter, offering the bare minimum of conversation to prevent the atmosphere in the car from becoming too tense. Your head is logically thinking through the situation, encouraging you to give him a chance seeing as he hasn’t done anything yet. And he’s definitely changed from the last time you saw him. Well, you hope so. If losing his wings didn’t change Keigo, then nothing would.
Your fingers toy with the leathery strap of your handbag. He taps on the steering wheel. You peer out the window to look at the restaurant, taking in its details. European, it seems, with a focus on Italian. You hadn’t actually known there was a restaurant like that in this area.
“Something different.” He says, turning off the engine. All you can do is bite your lip and nod and follow him through to the glass doors of the restaurant.
It’s quieter inside than you would’ve expected. There wasn’t many cars outside, but...
It would be rude to tell him that you wanted somewhere busier. Somewhere that people could see you if you started getting too uncomfortable. Witnesses, in a sense.
Not the kind of restaurant that would make you feel isolated across the table from him.
But he’s beaming at you, and he’s leading the way, following the waiter. You’re walking behind him gently, as if the clack of your heels is going to disturb the atmosphere of the restaurant. He’s still smiling when you sit down. And he never smiled that much before, not like that- smirking, maybe. A grin could flash every now and then.
It takes a few minutes for you to become fully aware of the situation in front of you. You’ve been aimlessly rummaging through your bag, not talking, and when you look up at him you’re met again with his blank smile.
You don’t know what’s going on. His eyes tell a different story from his mouth and you desperately try to cycle through the list of possible conversation topics you’d thought up previously.
Thankfully, Keigo takes the lead.
“How’s work?” He asks, sitting oddly upright.
“It’s going fine, I’ve been trying different things recently, different quirks.”
And his entire body relaxes whilst an unwelcome sense of control washes over you. It’s the power of shaping Keigo however you want with your responses.. He’s completely handed the reigns over to you and unfortunately, you don’t want them. You miss when he’d be more joking and free with you, you miss the conversations that went deeper than just work. His strangely philosophical viewpoints on certain topics that you were all too eager to entertain, to the witty comments he’d make in response to changes in the environment.
A plate drops in the background. You hear it shatter against the floor. Your eyes drift in that direction, then back to Keigo, who’s also looking at it. Your mouth is ready to curve into a smile, expecting a remark, but he-
“What quirks have you been working on, then?” He asks, looking at you again.
Disappointment.
“It’s mostly animal ones, to be honest. We’re trying to discover a link between the animal and the person, take in environmental factors and things like that.”
Come on. That should at least spark a comment. An animal pun.
Maybe that was a bad idea. You don’t want him to feel the loss of his wings anymore than he already has.
“Anything in particular?”
The waiter comes. You order drinks, and you finally realise that this whole time you haven’t had the menu in front of you. Keigo’s got his open. A twinge of embarrassment washes over you. You hastily grab one from the stand on the table, flipping it open and searching through the words to find something that you might like.
“You were saying?” He asks, not even bothering to mention your lack of menu for the last few minutes.
“Oh- ah, animal quirks, yeah- we’ve been looking into reptile ones, mostly. Once we figure out what affects the appearance of one, we might be able to look at links between different families, and even reptilian quirks that are mythical ones- you know, like Ryukyu.”
You take a long sip of your water, waiting for a response.
This is such a horrid conversation for dinner. You’re afraid to look at him in case you’ve accidentally upset him. Keigo’s strong, internally, but he’s not invincible. If you’re truly saying things that make him sad, you know that he’s going to keep it in. Repress it. Not tell you on the spot that you’re making him uncomfortable. It’s the practised facade he uses for talk shows, after all.
But perhaps if you do make him uncomfortable enough, he’d decide that the whole friendship thing wasn’t going to work out and leave you alone. No. You’d feel horrible if you tried that.
“That’s interesting,” He says, drumming his fingers on the table. Keigo looks like he’s mentally unavailable. Far away. Then he refocuses. “I’ve always wondered how some quirks just seem to come out of nowhere. Like you get ones where the person has the exact same quirk as an old book character, or something. Or they’ve got a unicorn quirk, when those don’t even exist in the first place.”
Finally. Something with depth. You might be able to milk this subject until the waiter comes around again.
“That’s really fascinating to me, it’s like... what I want to solve in my work. I used to think that it could be affected by childhood factors, like if the mother was obsessed with something before a certain age, then her kid might actually develop a quirk related to that.”
He hums, finally looking engaged with the conversation and like he genuinely wants to speak. That’s a relief. Beforehand, he was forcing the words out.
Even after the waiter does come, and you both order, you’re still talking about it and you’re delighted to not have to think of any conversation starters again. Which is good, seeing as you were close to blurting out a question to do with how his recovery was going, and he looks like he’s vehemently avoiding the topic. He wants to talk about you- all about you- and dodges any of your responses that would cause him to reveal parts of his own life.
You don’t mind. It makes you curious, but as long as he’s not miserable then you’re okay with the replies he provides.
However, it does raise questions. If he’s not talking about his feelings with you, then who-
Ah. The therapist. Well, at least you hope so.
The fact that he’s talking more freely doesn’t completely vanquish the atmosphere of discomfort. You still feel as if you’re monitoring your own responses, avoiding talking about any of the bird quirks that you’ve been researching in order to not bring up anything painful.
Once the food comes, things certainly quiet down. There’s less pressure to talk but the desire for a third person at the table seeps into your mind. Someone to clear the awkwardness, that’d be helpful.
You’re forking through your pasta and he’s eating his pizza in a strange fashion, tearing off the crusts so that he can eat them separately. It’s nice to see that even if he’s lost his wings, he hasn’t lost his birdlike habits. The act of dissecting his food is one that confused you- sometimes bothered you, especially when he went straight in with his bare hands- but seeing him do it now makes you feel better about the situation.
This must be a hard adjustment for him.
He’s finished eventually and so are you. There’s a pause before you start talking again in a real conversation.
“And the best part,” He announces. “For you, at least-“
Keigo produces his credit card, setting it on the table as a waiter moves over to your booth.
“-free dinner.” He finishes, once the waiter’s left the vicinity. You look at him and he nods at you, getting up. You follow.
“It’s not an issue,” You tell him. “I liked talking to you. I couldn’t continue doing this if it was just for a free meal, I’m not exactly homeless or anything.”
Keigo directs his body to you, pausing before opening the door to outside.
“Ah, really? That’s good to know.”
Keigo’s expression is frozen. Once he shakes himself out of the moment, he finally pushes open the door and you feel the cold night air on your skin.
It’s much darker outside than it was before you entered the restaurant. You appear to have missed the sunset, and now only the stars and moon are watching.
This time, he turns on the radio once you’re in the car, diffusing some of the tension as quickly as possible.
You don’t speak as the song comes on. It fades into an echo in the back of your head, chorus blending into the verses and Keigo’s fingers tapping the steering wheel as he drives.
“I didn’t really care for driving before any of this,” He begins, a tone of apathy in his voice. “But it’s nice, you know? I can go fast without the effort I put in up in the air.”
Hawks was rumoured to be faster than any car, any plane, any manmade invention that humanity had conceived before his existence. Deep down, you know that this can’t compare to what he felt when he was soaring in the air.
It’s a convertible, at least. Maybe he can take the roof off and feel what it was like to fly again. Maybe you can close your eyes and imagine the cold, leathery car seat on your back is his warm chest, the seatbelt; his arms wrapped around your body.
That was how it used to be. That was everything.
His eyes are on you.
“I- I like driving as well,” You respond clumsily. “It gives you a lot of freedom for not much at all in return.”
He hums and he’s smiling again, that blank smile that he puts on to reassure you even when the only thing it seems to do is make you feel worse.
You’re approaching your home, anyway. There’s no need to reply.
“Thanks for that, Keigo.” You say, undoing your seatbelt.
He whispers a goodbye, likely less audible than he intended it to be, and all it does is get caught in the sound of you closing the car door.
When you head up to your apartment, you’re left with the echoes of the conversation running in your head. It’s all a little too much and you can’t get to sleep fast enough.
———
You flick through your planner sometime during the following day. The dates had already been established, and the next one was Friday. Keigo could text you anytime he wanted to, apparently (he seemed to be refraining from doing so) and all you had to do was show up and talk to him.
An urge to reflect the entire situation washes over you as you sit on the couch, just about to grab your laptop for work purposes.
Your hands withdraw as you find yourself momentarily trapped in your own head, staring at the floor. Ethics, you’d had to handle a lot of those at work during studies, where you had to work with many different people in order to investigate their quirks. Informed consent. Right to withdraw at anytime. Keigo had granted you both of those, no doubt about that. The other one- that subjects and their data had to remain anonymous and confidential... well, you sure hoped so. Perhaps there was a reason that he took you to quieter places. Keigo was always good at keeping you from the press, he’d managed to do a fairly good job of it last time.
Yet, there was a different set of ethics that you hadn’t yet considered. And that was the ethics of effectively being paid to be a friend. It raised too many questions. Was he completely unable to make them? Surely not with his charisma and endless wealth.
You think back to when you first met him, though, and things fall into place a little better.
Keigo had avoided you when you were asked to do research on his quirk. He was your assigned task for the month, voluntarily subjecting himself to being experimented on in order to grasp a better understanding of his quirk. You’d later found out that the hero commission had pressured him into it, but he still had the final say. Despite all that, he still refused to talk to you outside of work hours. The man was impossible to make conversation with, rushing off to here and there at the end of every session, leaving you with all the data you could ever want on his wings and nothing on him as a person.
You’d tried to convince yourself that it was fine, that you weren’t a little hurt by his constant avoidance. It was a good thing anyway, you’d convinced yourself. It’s not like you enjoyed the presence of others that much, and you certainly weren’t going to get hung up on the fact that one of the busiest men in the country didn’t want to talk to you.
And suddenly, he’d started staying late. Maybe he picked up on your hurting. Maybe it was for personal gain- in retrospect, it was definitely for his own benefit, even if some part of likes you to believe that he was so completely enamoured with you that he couldn’t help but spend more time in your lab.
He didn’t want to finish his work. Especially when it was late in the evening and he could apparently squeeze in another patrol of the city. So instead, he’d lie on the couch inside your office and talk to you about anything his mind came to. A bond began to form and it got to the point where he would nap on the couch whilst you tapped words into your computer, listening to his soft snores. You didn’t mind it at all and empathised with his cause- you’d also be irritated if you were in his position, forced to do an extra hour of work after being experimented on and researched. Sometimes if you finished early he’d grab a book from the shelf and read it until it bored him enough to sleep anyway. You’d slipped a few of your favourite novels in there one morning, and pretended to be surprised a few days later when he started chatting about them.
“I like you,” He’d said one evening, picking at one of his nails. You’d turned around in your chair suddenly, oblivious to the fact that he’d woken up. “You don’t judge me.”
“Of course I wouldn’t,” You replied, confused. “Why would I?”
And he clicked his tongue and smiled down at the ground, eyes darting up to you for a brief glimpse.
“Thought you’d think I’m lazy. Well, I am. By nature. But I don’t like telling people that.”
He smirked at you, and even with one month and a half of these evening conversations, you finally felt like you were beginning to see what Hawks was like as a person, without the mask he put on for work.
“I’m lazy too. I wouldn’t want to go outside and patrol right now if I were you, either.”
It was an unconventional friendship. You didn’t go anywhere except your lab, not like now, you’d simply had two months of getting to know him until the research had to wrap up, and Keigo could no longer use the excuse of being experimented on to dodge his extra hours.
What were the ethics of that? Keeping him behind, from potentially saving lives, and being so selfish with his time? You’d felt guilt for it then. You thought you’d gotten over it with his reassurances that he would’ve stayed even if you didn’t agree with it.
Laziness wasn’t a good attribute for a hero to have.
And you think, for a moment, sitting back on the couch. His sad chuckle rings in the back of his ears. The talk show from a week ago, the interview that felt glaringly too soon, the one that forced Keigo to talk about his trauma in front of all of Japan. You’d clenched your fists whilst watching it, the entire atmosphere not sitting right with you but being unable to tear your eyes away.
“I guess sometimes I think that I was never meant to be a hero in the first place.”
That was his forced optimism, you could tell it at the time. His clear discomfort. You’d bit your lip and silently prayed that the host would wrap it all up soon.
When she began to open her mouth again, though, you’d grabbed the television remote and turned it off, finding it unbearable.
It’s similar now. You shake your head and grab your laptop, opening it and trying to lose yourself in the grating process of report-writing.
You would have time to think about Keigo later. Friday to be exact. Free dinner.
But, you remind yourself, nothing’s free.
-> [Part 2 Soon]
💜Support me besty 😸 if u wanna💜
mhmmmm. cowboy cream yan, it’s addicting stuff 🥵. Mmmm a Sheriff Jesse using his position in power as a way to sexually harass reader. While she’s at the market picking out apples he’ll blatantly flirt with her. When she says she isn’t interested he’ll grab her ass and purr “Aw honey, you don’t mean that. You’ll see, you’ll be mine in no time.” Leaves a quick smack on her ass before walking away. One day however, reader forgets to pay for some apples and life goes to shit (1/2)
this is hot i am glad you sent me this. purring. I always wonder about social pressure as a form of restraint as well. You wouldn’t want to try and escape him because everyone’s going to hate you for it- of course, you can misbehave in your own house as much as you want and face his palm or belt but ... escaping 😼 the dirty looks of citizens when they all know you’re somewhere you’re not supposed to be is an entirely different breed. Bc you are supposed to be at home or in his office, and without him you’re just some criminal that can’t be trusted 😳 mmhm
yes we need you, other people's bnha content are snacks, and fill our daily bnha content. Your content is like the main course meal from a 3 star michelin restaurant that we can only afford to eat once in a while, filling our yearning for bnha and leaves us longing for the next meal that will be posted so we can devour it, please never stop
anon i would d*e for you 😳💕 anon we are holding hands
this is you -> 🤝 <- this is me. 💗 and we are in love
It doesn’t matter that there is an influx of new BNHA content every day, I still enjoy your content, regardless of how often you post!!!! (also, who’s gonna provide me with the good cowboy thirst when you leave? 😔) Personally, I never followed you because of the novelty of degenerate content - I feel like I‘ve seen everything during my Overwatch phase - but because I vibe with your concepts and ideas and your writing is 👌👌👌👌👌
AAA thank you i love you 💕💕💕 i try my best to provide. 4 u. validation recieved 💗😽💗💗💗💗💗💗💗
Me @ your rampant fantasies: yes. Yes, this is exactly the content that I want. Like, goddamn, sometimes you just get that craving for something really messed up and more specifically some really awful happening to “me”/the reader, y’know? It’s, idk, cathartic in a way Ig?? or maybe I’m just messed up haha who knows 🥴 sry for spamming your inbox
I THRIVE on gritty messed up stories. You. You get me talking with no ridiculous typos 😸👎 okay. I have some urges (mental illness) to experience trauma to a high degree and I am generally a self destructive person. I hate defiant readers if the yandere doesn’t do anything about it BUUUUT! 😼 if the yandere is willing to fight back with far worse then it is enjoyable 😽 i long for the feeling of nausea in my stomach upon doing regrettable things and writing them is a lot better than doing them
Girl don't stress yourself this blog isn't for anyone but yourself. I love your content but I also know how life gets. If you can't put new stuff out all the time that doesn't make what you write any less valuable to the Fandom, do whatever makes you feel happiest 💜 I would love to read more of your writing tho so if you wanna keep going you should! You'll still have an audience.
Thank you youre everything 💗 i want to write something that makes me happy. i havent checked the notes of anything in such a long time. yet it still makes me oddly happy to see people who like my work
do you think you could do a soft NSFW continuation of the interchangeable fic with hawks?? maybe a worship/praise kink to make y/n comfortable since he knows the past torment might put them on edge with NSFW stuff?
i saw on tiktok the texas hawks doesnt exist meme and its all that i can think about. like i am so gone for hawks its not even funny
uhie ohsies anon that illness takes like two whole years to exit your body. have fun in a ward somewhere 😕 maybe i will see u on the way out n blow u littol kiss 😽💗 Good Luck
I'm a city girl, but of me still wants to date a sexy cowboy. But at the same time, I also want to BE a sexy cowboy, yknow? Like damn, who wouldn't want to make the other southern belles swoon? 😔
u r in my dreams, in my thoughts in my head. rent free. thats hot. i want. A cowgirl too even though my grisly little brain is focused on Sexy Cowboy. who says there cannot be sexy cowgirl? nobody. u open my eyes to unforseen possibility
