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#(but instead i only did the ones that I felt were important)
resipsaloquitace · 3 days
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In the end, the character best served by Young Royals was Sara. This may be a hot take but, in my opinion, she was the character with the most fulfilling story arc overall, one that was fully fleshed out and had a beautiful open ending and/or beginning.
Sara went on a journey over the course of three seasons, and what a journey it was.  When we meet her she is someone who doesn't fit in anywhere including within her own family. She had suffered terrible bullying at her prior school and was suffering ostracization at her current one.  She wanted more out of life and for herself, and so she tried to change herself to fit a mold that she thought would make things better and allow her to escape. Then she begins to form true connections with others and makes a friend, and she does it by being completely honest and open. Yes, that honesty causes problems in the relationship, but she is able to mend them.  Then she falls in love and in the moment it feels wonderful but it is the start of her downfall. Sara makes a lot of very bad decisions and ends up betraying everyone she loves.
Then she put in the work to correct that, and it was messy and challenging and very realistic. Nothing she tried at first to make amends went right.  Going to the police, what she thought was the cure-all, only made things worse. Her attempt to appease Simon by following his directions and leaving only increased his resentment. Felice would barely look at her. 
Ultimately, she realizes that it's not grand gestures that matter but facing what she did and its consequences and just being there.  So she stops trying to fit into a mold and returns to being unflinchingly honest both to others and to herself. She does not try to force apologies from either Simon or Felice (unlike another character) but instead makes herself present and available to them every time, no matter what response she gets back.  Both relationships still need care and mending but it seemed clear that everyone was headed in the direction of full forgiveness. 
She faced her personal fears too. I can't imagine how hard it was for her to go to Micke for help and it demonstrated how desperate she felt. How wary and hesitant she was to trust her father because she kept expecting him to fail her again, and how devastated she was when the expected failure did indeed happen. But she realizes how so many of her actions were inspired by her terror that she would inevitably follow in her father's footsteps. But instead of that betrayal reaffirming her prior stance, everything she has gone through matures her and she understands that even if something may cause pain, that doesn't mean it isn't worth it.  She comes to understand what's actually important to her.
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The best part was that Sara shared her hard-earned wisdom. She is able to give back to both Simon and Felice at a time when each is experiencing self-doubt and pain, assuring them that they were in the right. Her words were something Simon and Felice needed to hear in those moments.  And that's true of August too, who also needed to hear that the narrative he had constructed in his head was a false one, and that Sara was not here to save him from himself. Which leads to the most iconic line of all:     
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Prior to S3, I had hoped that Sara would learn from her mistakes and gain some maturity and wisdom and engage in self reflection. And damn if that isn't exactly what she did. 
Sara is the one who is handed the keys to freedom (the car) and who has spent the season learning and earning the skills and experience to best use that freedom.  She has come back to herself and her roots, so we hear for the very first time, her speaking Spanish. And it's words of love to family. She is ready to move to a new town and start on a different path. She recognizes that Simon wants to protect her and instead of resenting that like she did in S1, she assures him it's not necessary. 
Sara says that she will be just fine. And I believe her. 
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fuji-mango · 2 days
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"Change will change you." -Nick ⁉️
Nick x Reader BSF
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SYNOPSIS - Nick's been your best friend since you were kids, but for the past month, he's been ignoring you. He won't answer texts, won't return your calls. Life's been hell since he went MIA, so you decide to finally try and start pulling yourself together.
Note: My first story... be nice pls...
Word Count: 2351
WARNINGS: Burnout, Depression
Y/n’s POV
I remember when I thought that scraping my knee or falling off my bike was the most painful thing in the world, but I know now that I was very wrong. What hurts more than anything in the world, is feeling truly alone. Like you’ve been cast out to sea, and all you have is the whispers in the back of your head to stay sane.
All I can manage to do is lie in bed all day, wasting away while the world around me carries on. The sound of rain outside pelting the window only adds to the hollowness that I’m feeling. Everything felt like it was falling apart, I was being ghosted by my closest friend, everyone else moved away to college early, and doing any small thing felt like the most exhausting task in the world. Not to mention that my parents were currently several states away for work.
And as I was contemplating my depressing thoughts, I felt a slight vibration from my phone that was somewhere under my comforter. I sat up and rummaged around my bed in the dark searching for my phone. Eventually I found it and unlocked it immediately, being blinded by the screen as I did so. I scrolled through my notifications and instead of finding a new message from Nick, I found that my health app was reminding me to drink water. I wasn’t going to.
I opened my messages and I immediately saw the words I dreaded seeing beside Nick’s contact. “Read”.
I’ve been left on read again... 63 messages in the past month, and Nick hasn’t replied to any of them. I don’t even know why I feel surprised, I knew what the outcome was even before I sent it.
Nick, do you wanna hangout on Friday? (2:37 Pm 7/23) Read
Hey, I haven’t heard from you in awhile, how are you? (3:13 Pm 7/30) Read
Nick, I’m worried about you, please msg me. (12:04 Am 8/12) Read
Did I do something wrong? (9:13 Am 8/18) Read
Can you just tell me why you won’t respond? (8:15 Pm Yesterday) Read
I laughed a bit as I scrolled through our messages again. I knew he was busy with his career, that it was important to him. I just never thought that I would be thrown away for it.
Nick was my best friend. We grew up together, we watched each other go from things like dinosaur phases to graduating highschool. It feels like a part of my life is missing without him, but I can’t let it get me down forever.
I know that it’s raining, but I could go outside. I need some fresh air.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Nick’s POV
It was raining outside when Y/n texted me, it feels like forever since I’ve seen him. Part of me feels guilty for not reaching out, but the other half feels like it would shatter if I saw him again. I walked outside towards the van joining my brothers, trying hard to ignore those lingering thoughts.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Y/n’s POV
I just let myself walk, taking random turns every now and then. The slight drizzle and breeze wasn’t horrible, but still annoying nonetheless. It just feels like everything distant… Like I’m watching everything happen from an outside perspective. The dozens of cars driving by, people waiting at the bus stop, groups of friends walking around together… The world seems so alive, and yet I was just a bystander to everything that was going on.
It was exhausting. The mental strain, the emptiness that always followed… I was tired of it all. I just wanted to feel normal again, but how could I do that when a part of my life feels like it was ripped apart.
Eventually I ended up at one of my favourite places to hangout, at least I used to. I don’t even know when or how I got here. I thought that I was taking a random route, but maybe I subconsciously brought myself here. Kelly’s Diner, the place where Nick and I used to spend hours just talking to each other, laughing obnoxiously as the hours drifted by, up until they were closing.
I wanted to go inside, to try and find some happiness here again, but some part of me told me it wasn’t worth it. But I ignored that feeling and went inside anyway, being greeted by the pink and green detailed interior. It seemed foreign to me, despite all the times that I’ve been here. I walked up to the counter, sitting on the cushioned bar stools that were still as uncomfortable as I remembered. 
One of the workers made their way over to where I was sitting after dealing with a table around the corner. It was Spencer, a guy from school, but I mainly knew him from all the times that I came here with Nick. He always got annoyed whenever we got too loud and bothered everyone else in the diner.
“Haven’t seen you in awhile.” Spencer said, his usual tired face telling me all I needed to know.
“Long shift?” I asked him sarcastically.
“Yeah, works been a bitch lately, how bout you?”
“It’s been going.” I said, stretching my arms over my head. “Can I just get a chocolate ice cream frappe?”
“No fries or anything” Spencer clarified, to which I gave him a quick nod. “Alright, I’ll get that to you in a bit.” and with that he walked into the kitchen, coming out moments later to give food to the table he was at earlier.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Nick’s POV
Hanging out with Matt and Chris was always fun, but it was also a great distraction. I always hated when things were out of my control… hated how I felt insecure when I started to fall apart. Hated how all I could ever do was run away from the problem instead of facing them. And here I am, trying to suppress the sorrows by smiling and laughing with my brothers.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Y/n’s POV
After a couple minutes, Spencer finally made his way over to me, my drink in hand.
“One chocolate ice cream frappe for my favourite customer.” He said, setting down the drink in front of me.
“Thanks” is all I managed to let out.
“Let me know if you need anything else.” and with that, Spencer walked off to start wiping down some tables.
All I did was stare at the frappe for a bit, reminiscing on the past. When Nick and I came here, I’d always ordered the chocolate one, and he’d always get vanilla. It felt strange only seeing one of them on the counter, but I was starting to feel less bothered by it the longer I stared. When I finally did take a sip, a wave of warmth enveloped my body.
It tasted just how I remembered, maybe a bit better actually. And it was at that moment that I knew I was going to be okay. When life realigned for a second to let me catch my breath. I’d kept myself stuck in place, and now I was finally moving on my own again, no external force driving me forward. Just me, and I’m going to have to accept that fact.
The fact that Nick wouldn’t always be there anymore. I mean, I did miss him and all, he was my ride or die… and sometimes it felt like he was just around the corner. And as I thought about these stupid ideas, I heard his laugh. His obnoxiously perfect laugh.
He was here, Nick was actually here. It was the most relieving yet horrifying thing I’ve ever experienced. I set down a ten dollar tip on the counter and got up from my chair, slowly walking towards the source of the sound. My legs felt heavier with every step that got me closer, until I made it to the corner and finally I saw him. And there he was, smiling and laughing with Matt and Chris, a vanilla frappe in hand.
I pulled up my phone and started to text  Nick. One last attempt before I walk away from all of this.
I miss you. (6:27 Pm Today) Sent
And I watched as he picked up the phone, and set it down just as fast. Leaving those four letters on my screen once again. “Read”. And in that moment, I didn’t care anymore, how could I care anymore. I was so fucking tired of caring. Tired of spending all my time and energy on this. I stood up from my chair, making a loud squeaking from its legs scratching on the floor. All I could think about was getting out of here as fast as I could.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Nick’s POV
A loud sound from behind me took my attention away from the conversation that me and Chris were having, and I turned to see Y/n. He didn’t look like his usual self though. His hair was messily done, which wasn’t like him at all, and his clothes were slightly wet from the rain outside. He hates the rain.
By the time he was out the door, I found myself getting up abruptly and following after him. I heard Chris and Matt yelling something at me but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Y/n looked like he was in shambles, and it was because of me. Because of how selfish I’ve been.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Y/n’s POV
The rain was a lot worse than it was 20 minutes ago, going from a slight drizzle to a full on shower. I kept walking as fast as I could, trying to calm myself down. The tears on my face were blending in with the downpour. And I could hear Nick following behind me yelling my name.
“Y/N!” Nick yelled over the loud sound of rain, but I ignored it.
My walk sped up into a jog.
“Y/N!” He yelled again, but I still didn’t stop.
My jogging turned into running.
“Y/n just stop for a minute, please.” Nick pleaded, but I was being torn apart. Why now? Why after all this time? Nick didn’t bother to write a single text explaining anything and here he was running after me. He hates running.
I turned my head back to look at Nick but tripped over the uneven sidewalk. I managed to catch myself, scraping both my palms on the wet sidewalk, but it let Nick catch up to me.
“Are you okay?” Nick asked, catching his breath and offering me a hand to help me up.
“I’m fine Nick.” I slapped his hand away and got back up, trying to leave once again, but he grabbed onto my wrist before I could. “Nick let me go.” I said, trying to escape his grasp. The tears were falling harder now.
“Y/n…”
“I said let me go Nick!” I yanked my hand away from him, turning around and continuing on my way.
“Just let me explai-”
“Explain what?” I hissed out, stopping for a moment before turning around and finally facing him. “Explain how you fucking abandoned me?” He took a step back. “Explain how you ghosted me for a whole month?” He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out, so I kept on going. “Cause I want you to explain it Nick, I want you to fucking explain how you could throw me away like I was a piece of fucking trash.” My voice broke on the last few words, and I felt horrible yelling that at him, but part of me felt justified about it, which made me feel even worse.
“Y/n…” Nick started, struggling to find the right words. “What I did… it wasn’t okay. And I don’t know that you’ll ever forgive me.” He paused for a second to compose himself. I couldn’t tell if he was crying, or if it was the rain. “And it was selfish of me to do that. Selfish of me to just ignore you and not tell you why.”
“Then why didn’t you?” I yelled out, the frustration that I’ve been holding inside lashing out.
“Because I like you.” Nick said, which left me speechless. “I’ve liked you for so long and I know that you’ll never like me back that way, and it was so fucking hard watching you be so happy with other people romantically. It was so hard waiting for myself to fall out of love with you because of how much I care about our friendship… but I couldn’t take it anymore.”
“Nick… I…” I didn’t know what to say… didn’t know what to do.
“You don’t have to say anything Y/n, it’s fine.” Nick said, looking down at the ground. He looked as miserable as me.
“Nick…” I took a step forward and hugged him. “I don’t think I could ever like you that way, but you’ve been one of the most important things throughout my life.” I stopped for a second, pulling him out of the hug and looking him face to face. “And if this is what you need to be happy, then it’s okay. I understand.” I took a deep breath in. “But I want you to know this. You’ve been one of the best things in my life, and you always will be.” and with that, turned around and walked away.
It’s taken a lot of time to accept this change, and at first, I really didn’t want to. Sure it still kinda hurt to think about, but as I looked down at my scraped palms, I knew I could get past this too. I looked back at Nick one last time to see Matt and Chris finally reunite with him, and for the first time in a long time, I smiled.
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beyond-a-name · 2 days
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Polymour
I invented a word to describe someone you love
Polymour:
(noun) A person with whom you share a deep and intimate connection that is distinctly polyamorous and non-amatonormative; someone you love and share a relationship with, especially a relationship-anarchistic, non-romantic, and/or queerplatonic relationship
denotes love, significance, non-exclusivity, and a freedom from role-defined relationships
I think that practical use is the single best way to learn a new word, and certainly the best way to create one, so here's the gap in my life this word was made to fill.
So I've been in love with two people for a while, and we're all a-spec and very poly, and I'm very relationship anarchist. Relationship anarchy is in fact the only relationship model that makes any sense to me, that accurately works well with how I feel and doesn't feel like a trap, contract, or obligation.
I don't really like the word "partner", but these two people I loved and connected with, one of them did use the word partner and I wanted the validity of their other relationships. We will call this person MV.
The other person I connected with and loved, well they felt even more trapped by romance than I did, and it was clear we cared about each other very much, but "partner" was never going to be a word to enter their vocabulary, and I wanted to share in that too. We will call this person V.
So, I was MV's partner and V's friend, but to me, these felt the same. I loved them the same way, and our relationship structure was identical. They were (and are) both deeply important to me, but both words seemed insufficient. Speaking to anyone else, "partner" felt more obligatory than the way MV so freeingly used it, and "friend" sounded way more distant than the intimacy V put behind it. I didn't like either word, but more than anything, it hurt that I couldn't just say I loved them. It upset me that I loved them the same but our words were different.
What really sealed it was talking to a colleague about my two loves, I said MV was my partner and friend, and that V would never describe themself in those terms but that I loved them both the same. My colleague listened, and was happy for me, and it really seemed like they got it!
The next time I saw them, they had bought me two movie tickets, for me and my partner. It was sweet, but I could only think about how to upgrade the tickets to include all three of us, thinking those two would each go to Mv and V and I'd buy my own ticket to share treat them both to the movies and- And it hurt.
It was only a few days after that I invented this word in the shower. And it works so beautifully for us!!!!! V could relax because they knew that our love for them wasn't going to be the amatonormative trap we'd both suffered, and MV was just as relieved as I was to have a word that wasn't still so romancey and role-defined. We have a way to tell people that we're important to each other without worrying about those people's pressures or expectations, because well, we invented it.
Like everything good about relationship anarchy, instead of roles and contracts or hierarchy, we just get to focus on the love we feel.
When someone hasn't heard this word (because they obviously haven't), instead of managing someone else's baggage, we just get to teach them how we all love each other.
So it works well, for me and my polymours.... <3
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i4oba · 3 hours
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nct dream as… / fanfiction aus 𓈒✳︎🏡
[take the quiz here to see which one you get!]
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✰ MARK — childhood friends to lovers!au
ever since you've basically known your name, mark has been the boy next door. there was the cheeky, red letters of "lee" painted on the mailbox, the windows were adorned with the same coloured curtains, and the same doormat has been sitting in front of their door for ages. you have loved mark ever since you two have met. there wasn't a day where you wouldn't think of him, and there hasn't been a day when you haven't loved him. it was like a vicious circle which you couldn't get out of, because those stupid feelings would destroy the oh so precious friendship of yours, and you cannot let that happen, right? i mean, that's what you've thought for far too long, since this friendship meant more to you, than the fragile feeling of love - you didn't want it to get to the point where you would rather spit on each other, than talk it out. maybe that's why you pushed him away from yourself? maybe you just did that because you weren't too sure of your own peace of mind? no matter what, you knew the decision itself was wrong, only to realize it way too late. damaging the friendship and crying yourself to sleep was all your fault, after all, being way too proud and scared, stupid even; when you came back to the town where you two grew up, the least thing you wanted was to meet mark lee, mainly because you wouldn't have been able to look him in the eyes after all these happened. but you had to, so soon you even got a little surprised. it's been a while since the last time you have been home, your bedroom seemed way too unfamiliar at that point, just like the vhs tape placed directly in the middle of your bed. one which you haven't seen yet. it didn't have a title, the white label completely empty as you picked it up. you were a little bit cautious when placing it in the system, waiting for it to play whatever is on it, not having such large imagination to expect anything. it was a home video montage, full of videos of you and mark: playing together, getting ready for the first day of school, going to the movies, the way you two got engaged in middle school as a joke, and the omnious day of prom... you got teary eyed, with one thing on your mind - you have to go and save whatever's left now. maybe you're not too late.
✰ RENJUN — soulmate!au
life had been pretty much grey and dreary until you found The One. the other half everyone had been so obsessed to find. you were never big on all this stuff, because you were convinced you'd be able to live as a single half for you whole life, and don't need anyone else to feel complete. deep inside you knew that all of this is bullshit, truly, and all that was coming out of you was true bitterness and constantly ongoing unsuccessful confessions, making you believe in your delusions. with every passing second, you had to see people find their other half, while you were left to deal with the grey world you were left in, not as a choice but as fate instead. you felt like a loser, a big zero, who doesn't even deserve a soulmate. you thought you were destined to die alone, maybe compensate with something of brilliance: be a composer or a singer, write or paint something extraordinary, lord knows what, just something of importance! you were looking for yourself in every corner of the world, not for a lover or a fling, not for an other half, fully ignoring the law of attraction. it might have been some reverse psychological trick, effecting it all. and this may have been the reason behind why you had to leave that horribly boring theatre play, sneaking out and bumping into The One, who handed back your accidentally dropped bag, slowly looking into your eyes. he might have worked at the theater as he was wearing a name tag on his elegant shirt - huang renjun, it said. but it doesn't even matter, because his eyes were brown! brown! not grey, brown! everything cleared up. you did find the half - with brown eyes and a smile so bright.
✰ JENO — coffee shop!au
it was pretty much bittersweet to step foot in your favourite café: it was getting dark out there, and although the rain has stopped pouring, you got absolutley soaked to the core along the way there, rain replacing the tears on your face by then. your hair was sticking to your forehead uncomfortably, your body trembling without stopping, as you entered. the bell placed above the entrance was ringing lightly, gathering everyone's attention to you, although there wasn't too much people there except for the baristas, maybe two wandering souls, working on their laptops or reading in a cozy corner. well, maybe if it wasn't for getting dumped literal minutes ago, you wouldn't be here either, but it was still the most reasonable choice compared to going to a club or a ruin bar, gettig incredibly drunk, Plus! a good espresso might be able to clear the fog in your head, which you were in need of during this stupidly stressing period of life. you expected hyuck to greet you by the coffee machine, grinning ear to ear, as he always does when you visit between two lectures, but there was a completely new face behind the counter. it's been a long time since you've last seen a new employee here. his smile was sweet and rather warm, eyes conveying a sense of concern as you took one step closer, rubbing your eyes while getting your purse out of your pocket - you discreetly looked at his name tag, right on his black apron: lee jeno. whatta name... by then, you were way to hopeless to try and guess how the day would go, but life had to surprise you, fate deciding funnily against all odds: next to your cup of coffee, there was a napkin, hiding a telephone number on it, messily written down with a short message as well: "would you go out on a date with me, darling? :)"
✰ HAECHAN — rivals to lovers!au
lee donghyuck's name rushed through the hallways of your music academy just as quietly as a whisper, and you never knew why was it all like that ever since you've stepped foot into the school. you couldn't even hide the way too obvious rolls of your eyes every time you heard it. lee donghyuck was one of the biggest prodigies at the academy, no one could even be considered as a rival for him, this is mainly why he was such a big living legend amongst the students - you couldn't even hide how annoyed this made you, especially because he made sure you knew this ever since you two were little. music played a huge part in both of your lives, and somehow, you two always seemed to be at each other's throat, the first place at being the best always changing between the two of you. you could never get rid of each other either; your dad, always being so positive, once said, on your way to the academy sometime between sophomore and junior year, that the only reason behind this is that you two are equally good at what you're doing. you were pretty much skeptic for the longest of time, and felt as if you were destined to be the forever second next to him. you've had enough of always bumping into walls, since hyuck was the one who could stand at the first place ever so proudly. in kindergarten, in middle school, and even in high school, every. god damn. time. and that infuriating smile was plastered all upon his face even when you two were asked to not perform alone on the annual charity gala of your academy - you two had to perform something phenomenal, putting the childish jarring aside, growing out of the silly phase of hating each other, which was all made up by you, and you only, pushing the poor boy away from you. the boy who had always been so obsessed with you, utterly and completely. he won this time again, isn't it right?
✰ JAEMIN — photographer!au
when jaemin brought up the idea of making the last parts of his portfolio with you (which basically means about you), you were a little bit skeptic at first. you loved jaemin dearly, since he was a really understanding friend, but... you were simply terrified of cameras. you didn't really like the idea of being captured at all, you hated looking back at yourself on pictures taken of you, and you couldn't even think about how high quality his pictures would be with that hyper super machine, focused on all the little flawed details of your face that you absolutely despised. no, you couldn't even bear the idea of this whole project, and you stood by this decision of yours, jaemin waiting patiently the whole time, not pushing it too hard. since he wanted to work with you no matter what, giving up on his plan wouldn't be too typical of him - the fight didn't last long but it was pretty heated, him highlighting so many known things that needed to be said finally: it's childish how you reflect on yourself, and your delusions stop you from way too many things. the way he said straight into your face how beautiful he thinks you are, inside and outside, and that he wants the whole world to know how ethereal you are, made you tear up a little - especially when he said his heart breaks every time you speak so lowly of yourself. he truly thinks you're the modern manifestation of aphrodite, that you are his own venus, the muse of him, someone he can adore... that he's way too in love with you to let go of this, and-; the kiss you gave him was short, yet gave him exact answers. answers to hundreds and thousand of unsaid questions he kept hidden in himself for years and years on end.
✰ CHENLE — blind date!au
you clearly didn’t brace yourself for this whole fiasco proposed by donghyuck himself, foolishly believing his reasonings behind how perfect of a matchmaker he is. of course you knew that what he way saying was partly stupid, plus you were like a seventy percent sure he wasn't even sober when he set up a blind date during that omnious frat party he wasn't invited to. you didn't have to worry or anything, that's just how you were - overly anxious of such things, even if you weren't meeting a psychopath. you were only a bit vary of the awkwardness this whole new experience would bring, both of you rushing home way too soon from the date, trying to forget about it as soon as possible. these misconceptions about how the night would go stayed straight until you stopped in front of the restaurant to wait for your - then late already - date. you were a little nervous he stood you up, and you got yourself into the most beautiful piece of clothing from you wardrobe for nothing, but it was worth it, looking back at it, as zhong chenle arrived and you two simply just... clicked? automatically? not to mention you two decided to leave the place after the hors d'oeuvre, since you both found the place a little too fancy at that moment, going to a simple ice cream parlor instead, taking a walk in the park after, talking about anything and everything that came to mind: family, politics, movies and the most embarrassing memories from your childhood came up too, as you couldn't help but laugh at how chenle dropped his ice cream cone on the ground, while he simultaneously promised you that he wouldn't drop the cone on the next date - and you smiled, so happily.
✰ JISUNG — secret admirer!au
you were head over heels for jisung and his undying love for dancing. but, thinking a bit deeper about it, while writing that foolish, teenager like love letter for him, forced into the role of his secret admirer, there were much more of those things that made you feel head over heels for the boy: he showed you what persistence was, he spent the whole of his youth with you, and he wasn't afraid to spend the rest of his life with you, helping you out anytime you're in need of it, since he couldn't not do that as you "best friend". he couldn't be evil with you, he was never able to leave you and he couldn't even envision a future in which you weren't by his side. but the border he made up between the two of you, was never crossed - you two were friends, not more, not less. you were so torn deep inside, as you were helpless, being in the never ending limbo you would rather push forward, but he kept on tugging it backwards; the idea of writing letters was originally from your mother, who had enough of your obvious agony. she was positive you would write every feeling of yours out, making it easier as time goes by. their number kept growing, however, one letter becoming a dozen soon enough, maybe even more in the meantime, while not writing a name on any of them, referring to yourself only as a mere secret admirer. they suddenly disappeared from the bottom of your drawer one day, though, realizing way too late that the ringing phone in your pocket was in fact park jisung, the picture of him taking up the screen of your mobile - did he know?
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jibunwo · 1 month
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let me game in peace couldve been so good if the author thought women were people.
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emeryleewho · 1 year
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I used to work for a trade book reviewer where I got paid to review people's books, and one of the rules of that review company is one that I think is just super useful to media analysis as a whole, and that is, we were told never to critique media for what it didn't do but only for what it did.
So, for instance, I couldn't say "this book didn't give its characters strong agency or goals". I instead had to say, "the characters in this book acted in ways that often felt misaligned with their characterization as if they were being pulled by the plot."
I think this is really important because a lot of "critiques" people give, if subverted to address what the book does instead of what it doesn't do, actually read pretty nonsensical. For instance, "none of the characters were unique" becomes "all of the characters read like other characters that exist in other media", which like... okay? That's not really a critique. It's just how fiction works. Or "none of the characters were likeable" becomes "all of the characters, at some point or another, did things that I found disagreeable or annoying" which is literally how every book works?
It also keeps you from holding a book to a standard it never sought to meet. "The world building in this book simply wasn't complex enough" becomes "The world building in this book was very simple", which, yes, good, that can actually be a good thing. Many books aspire to this. It's not actually a negative critique. Or "The stakes weren't very high and the climax didn't really offer any major plot twists or turns" becomes "The stakes were low and and the ending was quite predictable", which, if this is a cute romcom is exactly what I'm looking for.
Not to mention, I think this really helps to deconstruct a lot of the biases we carry into fiction. Characters not having strong agency isn't inherently bad. Characters who react to their surroundings can make a good story, so saying "the characters didn't have enough agency" is kind of weak, but when you flip it to say "the characters acted misaligned from their characterization" we can now see that the *real* problem here isn't that they lacked agency but that this lack of agency is inconsistent with the type of character that they are. a character this strong-willed *should* have more agency even if a weak-willed character might not.
So it's just a really simple way of framing the way I critique books that I think has really helped to show the difference between "this book is bad" and "this book didn't meet my personal preferences", but also, as someone talking about books, I think it helps give other people a clearer idea of what the book actually looks like so they can decide for themselves if it's worth their time.
Update: This is literally just a thought exercise to help you be more intentional with how you critique media. I'm not enforcing this as some divine rule that must be followed any time you have an opinion on fiction, and I'm definitely not saying that you have to structure every single sentence in a review to contain zero negative phrases. I'm just saying that I repurposed a rule we had at that specific reviewer to be a helpful tool to check myself when writing critiques now. If you don't want to use the tool, literally no one (especially not me) can or wants to force you to use it. As with all advice, it is a totally reasonable and normal thing to not have use for every piece of it that exists from random strangers on the internet. Use it to whatever extent it helps you or not at all.
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zebrabyopn3 · 28 days
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I really believed things like "we shouldn't speculate about Aaron Bushnell possibly being a trans woman" and "we shouldn't dig too much and try to project meaning into the name of his accounts" and "don't inject white queerness into this discussion" and "if she is trans, it doesn't matter and it distracts from his sacrifice", and then, "do we only care about the Palestinian cause if a white, heroic trans woman is at the center of it?"
But, like. Did we really only care about his sacrifice once we knew that Aaron went by LilyAnarKitty in twitch, reddit and discord? Did we only care then, at that point? We didn't. We cared before that
I saw trans women asking if it was real; questioning if posting a picture of his flaming body was even necessary; warning people to not needlessly watch the video (thanks to those warnings I haven't watched it); sharing posts about it and talking about the importance of what he did; rejecting the idea that he was complicit in the genocide just by being an active member in the air-force; and rejecting the idea that his suicide was because of poor mental health
Saying that we did not care before we tried to project transfemininity into him is a ridiculously bad-faith interpretation of the sentiment of enemy-viv's post about Aaron's online presence
I didn't know Viv personally, nor did I reblog the post she made. I did read it, and I didn't know how to feel about it. I really thought we shouldn't speculate about Aaron's name in twitch. Then I learned about his choice of pronouns on discord. I knew about the comments he made to journalists and his choice of pronouns, so I decided to respect that, but I felt like Viv's post spoke about something important that I felt in my chest
Then, people attacked and harassed her for "not caring for Aaron's death, for Palestine, for the cause". And I stayed silent. I even thought they were right. It hurts. I feel like I failed Viv, despite not knowing her
She was bullied off the site for wondering if Aaron's sacrifice was also a sacrifice made in the closet, to not distract from the conversation in the public's eye. She made a post on tumblr about it. She did not personally distract everyone from his sacrifice until people decided to dogpile on her, make vague posts about her, sending other people anon's about her comments, harassing her until she decided to terminate her blog. Making a call out, pretty much. I thought we were over that. We learned nothing. People really decided to use their time to harass her rather than talk about Gaza
Never did she deny or question how meaningful his death was, nor did she say that Aaron's transfemininity made his sacrifice more virtuous, nor did she use his death to talk about how trans women are the only ones that care about Palestine, nor did she say there were no trans Palestinians, nor did she say that queer Palestinians aren't dying right now, nor did she say that we should stalk all of his online presence to be 100% sure of his transfemininity, nor did she say she wanted people to exclusively talk about Lily instead of Aaron's death or the struggle of Palestinians
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Viv's pain was genuine. She, and now I, felt that we might've possibly lost a sister. Regardless of that, we lost someone who made a sacrifice of a greater magnitude than anything we've ever done; someone who took a stance and called attention to how cruel the genocide of the Palestinians is, by going out in flames
And people used Viv's pain, her comments, her vulnerability to harass her to the point that she left. A lot of people just want to pretend that we can't think of Aaron's gender and identity in the context of his death, while also recognizing the importance of his sacrifice in boosting Palestinian's voices and condemning their genocide
Some of you don't love any trans woman you meet. It's too late
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churipu · 1 month
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PERIOD COMFORT 𓆝 ⋆。𖦹°‧
ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, itadori yuuji, nanami kento
ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. period stuff, cramps, fluff.
note. new layout :> anyways, just reminding everyone that has sent in requests that my ask is only open to talk as of now and it will take a little long to have them out, but i assure you that everything in my inbox will be written! thank you
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
gojo didn't know how periods felt. so he looks up for things he could do to make you feel better — one time he actually considered buying one of the period cramps simulation machines because he didn't like seeing you in pain alone.
keyword: considered.
you had to drop the machine out of his trolley, and the male was definitely not happy about it. he tried arguing about it with you, saying how he's your 4lifer and he doesn't like seeing you in pain alone because of period cramps.
"satoru, 'm okay. i go through this every month, 'm not gonna die because of this." you tell him, handing his phone back.
gojo whines out, "but baby, i don't like seeing you in pain. i wanna be in pain with you," he shakes you back and forth gently.
but when you were content with your choice — he accepted begrudgingly. pouting out, refusing to speak to you for at least the next fifteen minutes because he couldn't stand being apart from you that long. so instead, he searched for what he could do to help.
"look, i got three chocolates, and i got you extra pads and tampons because tiktok told me to. and i got salonpas because i heard they can actually help with cramps," gojo presented proudly, "and then lastly, me. your amazing boyfriend."
you, previously, laying down on the couch, sat up slowly with a small smile at his attempt to help you with your period.
"thank you 'toru. this means a lot to me."
"i still think i should buy that machine though, baby."
𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈
he's confused. he knows about periods, but he didn't know it pained you. the young male was in a training session one morning when you called him, expecting a cheery greeting from you.
oh, he didn't. instead here you were, moaning out in pain, "yuuji, you busy?" he could vaguely make out a sharp hiss from the other line.
yuuji was indeed busy. but he told you, "no, no. are you okay? what happened?" he was in the middle of a hand-to-hand with megumi, instinctively raising his hand to stop — and megumi stopped immediately, knowing it was important for yuuji.
"period cramps . . . can you come over, please?" he was confused, tired, and sweaty. but he didn't care about that — the male was worried because were periods even supposed to hurt you?
"of course, baby. i'll be there in a sec." he ended the call and shot a look to kugisaki, "what the hell does period cramps mean, does your . . . you know, hurt or something?"
kugisaki had to give him a one minute lecture on what he should do, step by step. yuuji listened thoroughly, running to the nearest convenience store to get what kugisaki told him to: sweets, chocolates, pads and tampons, and your favorite snacks.
and it took him no longer than eight minutes to appear at your doorstep, knocking a couple of times. still sweaty and stinky, "y/n? it's me."
"door's unlocked."
he opened the door hastily, making sure not to drop any of the things he just bought. lightly sending a kick to the door to shut it, "hi baby, how are you feeling?"
"not good. i feel like 'm gonna die." you writhe out, curling into a ball on your bed. the male approached you, putting down the things, "you stink."
he chuckled, stroking your head, "'m gonna borrow your shower, and then cuddles?"
you nod, "please."
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
nanami is always ready. he just knows when your period is coming, hell, he's even more accurate than your period tracker application.
"i brought you chocolates and ice cream, and a heat pad for your cramps." nanami mumbles out, kicking his shoes off as he enters your house carrying a plastic bag.
"how did you know it was my period?"
"i remember it," that was better than any "i love you" or "i miss you".
the male's always ready to bring snacks, sweets, and heat pads for you. nanami will do what it takes to cease your period cramps since he knew he couldn't feel it like you did. he feels really awful: giving you back massages, head massages, kisses to your stomach.
he said he'd "kiss the pain better".
which actually works.
i think he knows your period schedule better than you do. he'd always remind you that your period's coming soon as a heads up, and you listen to him all the time. to the point you had to delete your application since it was pretty useless at this point.
"darling, your period's coming up soon."
"really? didn't i just finish last month's . . ?" you mumbled, a little annoyed that your schedule's coming up so fast.
"in a few days, if i'm guessing — three maybe?" he replies, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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bigfatbimbo · 2 months
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How about dragging a sleepy Lucifer away from his work? As he insists that he just needs "5 more minutes" as his eyes are closed and he's laying half limp in your arms. Sleepingly mumbling that he can get ready for bed himself as you wash him up and then carry him to bed.
(I imagine that he doesn't usually get taken care of like this. He's much more used to falling asleep at his work bench and waking up with a sore back and a pounding headache. Even though he's embrassed about you seeing him in a such a state, and feels a little guilty about you being "forced" to take care of him, he can't help but lean into your soft touches)
- 🎀
a/n — GOD THIS IS SUCH A CUTE PREMISE HES SUCH A WORKAHOLIC HE NEEDS TO BE TREATED LIKE THE PRINCESS HE IS <33
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You had knocked on Lucifer’s already half opened door to his workshop, making it creak loudly.
You scanned the room quickly, taking in the mess. There were rubber ducks everywhere, trash on the floor, scrapped projects scattered across the various tables.
And then your eyes fell on Lucifer, head resting on his desk, looking perfectly sound asleep. You internally roll your eyes, not understanding why he does this to himself.
Causally you make your way over to Lucifer, picking up pieces of trash on the way and organizing things here and there, hoping to make the room look less chaotic.
When you finally get to the sleeping demon, your hands gently rub his back, coaxing him awake.
He groans quietly, “‘m so close to finishing just,” he yawns, “just five more minutes…”
His sentence trails off unconvincingly and you scoop him up bridal style in your arms. He nuzzles into your chest and wraps his arms around your neck to subconsciously bring you closer.
“I think you’re about ready for bed, honey,” you say sweetly, planting a kiss on his forehead.
“nonono, this is important…” he trails off before regaining his strong of thoughts, “important stuff, very important. ‘m gonna finish it tonight.”
“Uh-huh,” you smile fondly as you place him down on his bed. He continued quietly stammering about all the work he was getting done while you undress and place him in his pajamas.
Which mainly consisted of his boxers and an old t-shirt. Then, you got an old towel damp and began wiping off the dust and grime from his work table that had ended up on his face when he fell asleep.
He whined at the cold feeling of the water. You shushed him softly and, after you were satisfied with your work, you crawled into bed next to him.
Wrapping your arms around him, you heard Lucifer release a long content sigh, nuzzling his back into your stomach. He was absolutely adorable like this, being held by you.
It didn’t take long for him to fall fast asleep.
The early morning light beamed in from the window and fell on Lucifer’s face, waking him up from one of the best sleeps he’d had in a while. He took a moment to assess his situation, a warm comfy bed instead of his workbench, a loose t-shirt and—
and your arms wrapped around his middle, pulling him closer to you. He might as well have slapped himself on the forehead right then.
Not only did he not get any work done, he had made you take care of him in the process. How humiliating.
You stirred behind him, “Good morning, baby.” You place a kiss on his neck as a greeting.
He was silent for a moment.
“You— you didn’t have to do that,” he spoke quietly, ashamed of himself.
It took a moment for you to remember what exactly he was referring to.
”No, I didn’t,” you say, unslinging your arms from around him. He silently mourned the loss of contact.
“But I wanted too,” you caress his cheek with your thumb. “I want to see you well rested, Luci. That’s why I took care of you. Simply because I wanted too.”
Once again, he had to pause before he spoke. This time, however, it was because he felt tears well up in his eyes and he didn’t want to cry in front of you. Not after giving you all that trouble.
“I just don’t understand why you would want to,” he said simply, looking down.
You sat up and paused, trying to think of the best way to go about the situation.
In one simple motion you lunged for him, both of your hands resting in his jawline and you peppered him with kisses all over his face.
“What are you—“ he couldn’t help but smile, “What are you doing, y/n, oh my goodness!” He giggled loudly as you assaulted him with your lips.
“I just,” you said as you placed multiply kisses on his cheek, “think your,” more on his nose, “amazing.”
You finish on his lips, a peck and first and then a deeper tender kiss.
When you finally pull away he looked dazed, “Well it’s, um, it’s hard to argue with that, my love.” A small giggle escaped his lips one last time.
You leaned back on the bed and opened your arms to him, inviting him in.
This time, he launched himself towards you with no protests.
Only slightly teary eyes as he buried his head into your chest and sank into your arms.
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valeskafics · 2 months
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"Fight For You" - Ex!Rafe Cameron x Routledge!Reader
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Summary: Your psycho ex boyfriend shows you that he's willing to fight for you.
Word Count: 4,000
Rating: 18+, MDNI
TW: slight dubcon, afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, dark!rafe, fingering, overstim, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral f receiving, creampie, underage drinking/alcohol consumption, references to cocain usage, hints of ghostface!rafe, possessive/toxic rafe, jealousy, physical violence NOT AGAINST READER, this short of behavior is not okay irl!!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Outer Banks characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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You thought it was a love story. Something like Romeo and Juliet - prince charming and a girl from the wrong side of the tracks. Kie tried to tell you he was crazy. So did your brother. But you didn’t care. You were too in love to care. Because when things were good, they were amazing. He made you feel like the most beautiful, important person in the world. Like you were the only thing that mattered to him. But when things were bad, they were awful. He hated you so much as looking at another man. He didn’t care when you told him JJ and Pope were like brothers to you. You still weren’t supposed to talk to them, even if they practically lived at your house. He didn’t care that Topper only offered you a ride home because it was pouring rain. You should’ve had the foresight to call him. He’s the only one who should be giving you a ride.
It was all so goddamn suffocating. He gave you an ocean’s worth of love, but you were drowning in it, floundering at sea, gasping for air.
So, you broke up with him. It damn near killed you to do it, but with your brother encouraging you, you managed to do it. Rafe took the breakup surprisingly well. He handled it maturely. He asked if he could have one last hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You felt his tears soaking your skin, his body quaking ever so slightly. And it took every ounce of self restraint within you not to cave to him again. You turned and walked back to the van, your head held high, feeling his gaze on you all the while.
You kept away from Figure Eight after that. It was strange, after having been a fixture there for so long. You avoided Sarah and Wheezie when you saw them in the street. You would only give Topper and Kelce very fleeting smiles. You decided to start working at Kie’s dad’s restaurant instead of the Island Club just so you wouldn’t run into him.
And tonight, you stupidly decide to go to the kegger Scarlet is throwing on the beach. You arrive with your friends, wearing your favorite red bikini and a pair of denim cut-offs. You laugh and you drink, and you even let loose enough to let JJ dance with you. You know he’s always had a thing for you, his best friend’s sister. That he hated seeing you with Rafe. And you know that John B always hoped the two of you would get together.
But the moment thoughts of letting JJ take you out on a date start to cross your mind, you see him from across the fire. He looks as handsome as ever, with that sharp jaw, those piercing blue eyes staring into your very soul. JJ doesn’t notice, rushing off to do a keg stand, while you stay there, held captive in Rafe’s gaze. He walks over to you, slowly but surely, his body moving with the agility and grace of an apex predator.
Rafe stops just in front of you, his gaze settling on the swell of your breasts for a long moment before he finally speaks your name. You give him a tight-lipped smile in return.
“How are you, Rafe?”
He smirks and you hate yourself for the fact that it still makes your stomach turn with excitement when he eyes you up and down, “I’m good baby. Can we talk for a minute?”
You shake your head, “That’s not a good idea. I’m here with someone, Rafe.”
It’s a reach to say that you’re here with JJ, but at this point, it’s the only thing you can think of to put him off. His entire demeanor changes at your words. His eyes narrow and his jaw ticks. And you can’t help but remember the way he used to pull you into his arms and kiss you hungrily when he made that face. But now, he just seethes.
“Who?”
“JJ,” you reply evenly, watching his hands clench into fists, knuckles going white.
Rafe leans in, his breath hot as it fans over your neck as he questions, “Are you sleeping with him?”
Part of you is angered by the fact that he thinks you’d do that. But another part of you is pleased that he’s jealous. You try to ignore the latter and speak in a calm voice.
“Even if I was, it wouldn’t be any of your business, Rafe. We broke up, remember?”
He glares at you furiously, grinding his teeth before blurting out, “No. You broke up. Tell me, do you love him the way you loved me?”
You see the way his nostrils flare, the tension running through him, and you decide to ask, “Are you high right now?”
Rafe’s voice grows louder, a few people glancing your way as he demands, “Don’t fucking try to avoid the question. Do you love him like you loved me?”
“Don’t avoid my question!” You retort sharply before repeating, “Are you high?”
It was one thing you were proud of. That he’d gotten clean for you. And you think it might just break your heart all over again if you find out he’s using. Luckily, he shakes his head, taking a deep breath.
“No. I’m not. Now it’s your turn. Do you love JJ like you loved me?”
He was honest with you. And so, you decide to be honest with him.
“I’ll never love anyone the way I loved you. But you’re,” you take a tremulous breath before speaking, “You’re not good for me.”
Rafe’s body visibly relaxes, a small grin curling at the corners of his lips, “So you still love me?”
You nod slowly, “A part of me always will. But I love myself more, Rafe. I love myself enough to let you go.”
“We can make this work,” Rafe insists, cupping your face in his hands tenderly, smiling at you in the way that made you fall for him in the first place, “You can fall back in love with me. And- and I can do it right this time. I can love you right, baby. You and me against the world, the way it should be.”
You shake your head vehemently before moving to unclasp the necklace you wear. A small pink Tiffany heart pendant that Rafe gave you for your eighteenth birthday. You place it in his hand, your fingertips brushing against his for a brief moment before you whisper.
“Goodbye, Rafe.”
He stares at you incredulously, his voice growing agitated, brows furrowing, “You’re not serious.”
You ignore his words and walk away from him, your heart breaking all over again.
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Rafe watches you leave, a lump in his throat as you go. He watches as your brother gives you a hug, as his sister squeezes your shoulder. But worst of all? He watches as JJ makes you laugh. He used to make you laugh. That was his job. No one should be doing that but him.
He waits for the party to die down, watching as you move toward the water, wanting to get your feet wet. You’ve always been fond of that. You stare up at the moon, its light shining on your face, making Rafe smile to himself before stalking over toward you. He grabs you by the arm, spinning you around to face him. You’re taken aback, unable to speak for a moment.
“This isn’t how it’s gonna end, baby,” he vows, “We’re meant to be together. You’re just trying to test me. To see how hard I’m gonna work. To see if I’ll fight for you. So this is me. Fighting for you.”
You blink a few times, as if you’re struggling to comprehend his words, “I… Rafe, we’re over.”
He shakes his head, tightening his grip on your arms, pulling you close, “Don’t you fight me. You’re mine. Always gonna be mine and I’m never gonna let you go. I can’t let anyone else have you. You’re mine. You belong to me.”
“I’m my own fucking person, Rafe,” you hiss angrily, squirming in his grip, “Let go!”
You let out a shriek of surprise as he manhandles you down onto the sand, pinning your body down with his own, the familiar weight being equal parts nostalgic and horrific, “No. No, you’re mine, baby. You belong to me. We have so much history, so much time. I’m never gonna love another girl the way I love you. I’m not letting you walk out of my life again, walk away from me.”
He lets out a grunt when John B tackles him, sending him tumbling to the ground. He forgot your feral guard dog older brother was there. And as John B lands punch after punch against his jaw, urged on by JJ and Pope, he watches as you try to stop your brother.
“John B, it’s not worth it!” You cry out, trying to grab your brother’s arm, “Let’s just go home! Please!”
Your brother relents, but not before telling Rafe to stay the fuck away from you. The idea of that is absolutely ludicrous to him, but he just stands and spits out some blood, watching as you walk away with your fucking Pogue friends.
“Turn around if you love me,” he mumbles to himself, staring after you, “Look back if you still want me to keep fighting for you.”
And when you cast him a lingering glance over your shoulder before climbing into your brother’s piece of shit van, he knows exactly what he has to do. Rafe barely holds back a laugh when JJ shoots him a dirty glare.
He thinks it’s because JJ knows he doesn’t stand a goddamn chance against what the two of you have.
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One drunken night, you confessed to Rafe that you’ve always had a thing for the bad boys in films - in particular, Billy Loomis and his ilk. Something that made him laugh because, despite his privileged upbringing, he would definitely fit the bill. You find yourself reminiscing over your ex as you lay in bed after your encounter, scrolling through old pictures of the two of you on your phone. You smile at one of the two of you at Midsummers last year, dancing and gazing into each other’s eyes like nothing mattered but the two of you. It’s pathetic, the hold he still has on you. That you’re lying here, in his hoodie that you couldn’t bring yourself to return, clutching the overpriced plushie he bought you for your birthday last year, eyes welling with tears as you look at photos of him.
Suddenly, your phone rings. You frown at the screen, seeing that the caller is unknown. It’s nearly three in the morning, who the fuck can this be? You sigh and answer, knowing you shouldn’t, but your curiosity gets the better of you.
“Hello?”
There’s silence on the other line for a long moment. And you wonder if perhaps the call got disconnected. Then, you hear it. A voice. One that sends a shiver up and down your spine for reasons that aren’t all unpleasant. His voice is low and gravely, but with an almost robotic tone to it. Whoever has called you is probably using a voice modifier. But still, there’s something eerily familiar about it.
“You alone tonight, beautiful? Or are your pack of guard dogs around?”
You let out a quiet yawn before questioning, “Who is this? Pretty sure this could’ve been a text.”
The voice chuckles, the sound making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, “It’s much better to hear your voice, pretty girl. I miss hearing it.”
You frown slightly before letting out a sigh, “JJ, if this is you messing with me, I swear to God-”
“Do you really think JJ would call you at three in the morning just to hear your voice?” You stay silent, sitting up in bed, knitting your brows together, wondering if it isn’t JJ fucking around, who it could be, “Are you in bed, pretty girl?”
“Yeah?” You say, confused, clutching the teddy bear tighter to your chest, wondering if you should hang up and call Rafe to come over.
“Do you need me to keep you comfortable, baby? Warm you up?”
“I have a boyfriend,” you blurt out, lying, “Rafe Cameron. He’s big and crazy and he’ll kick the shit out of you!”
“I thought you two broke up, pretty girl. Besides, you seem pretty lonely right now. Wearing his hoodie, huh?”
You hang up, tossing your phone across the room, diving under your sheets. Your entire body shakes with fear. Someone’s watching you. And it’s terrifying. You think about walking over to John B’s room to wake him up, but you know he’s just going to freak out even more than you currently are. You hear a tapping at your window, the sound making your blood run cold as you let out a whimper of fear. Then you hear it.
His voice.
“Baby? Baby, can you lemme in? I just wanna talk.”
You throw the covers off of you and open your window, breathing out a sigh of relief as you see him, “Rafe.”
You let him climb inside, your eyes watery with unshed tears. You throw your arms around him, your body wracking with sobs, the adrenaline from all of this wearing off quickly. Rafe embraces you tightly, rocking your body back and forth, cooing in your ear as he runs his fingers through your hair.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby. It’s okay. You’re okay.”
“Some guy prank called me,” you manage between tears, “And he was watching me. I was so scared, Rafe…”
He holds you close, his arms bringing a familiar comfort that you’ve longed for, speaking in that sweet voice of his that charmed you in the first place, “Shh, baby, you’re okay. I’m here. It’s okay.”
When you finally begin to calm down, you wipe your eyes and mumble, “I… I should give you your hoodie back. Since we’re not together anymore.”
“You wanna give me the teddy bear back too, baby?” He teases gently, tilting your chin up so that you’re forced to meet his eyes.
“No. He’s mine.”
“I knew it,” Rafe smirks, “You can’t let go of things that remind you of me. You can’t let me go. Can’t let us go.”
“No, Rafe,” you say weakly, pulling away from him, “You’re not good for me…”
He doesn’t lessen his grip, still holding you to his chest. Rafe’s hands move to cup your face, his thumb moving along your cheekbone.
“I know I’m not good,” he admits quietly, “I get a little crazy sometimes. But I love you. I have since we met.” Rafe’s gaze flickers to your lips before he speaks again, “Tell me the truth. Are you over me?”
You sigh, mumbling, “I wish I was.”
You see the way his jaw ticks at this, but you have to give him props for managing to hold back his anger, “Are you saying that because it’s true or because you want to hurt me?”
“I’m not trying to hurt you,” you say truthfully, “That’s the last thing I want.”
“Well it fucking hurts that you would want to be over me,” Rafe replies, leaning in closer, “Just tell me again. Tell me you still love me.” Your voice fails you, but you nod, turning your face from his. “So if you still love me, why aren’t we getting back together? Why are you hurting me like this?”
“Because you’re insane, Rafe,” you whisper, “The way you went after JJ and Pope and even Topper… It’s not normal.”
“But that’s just normal jealousy. Out of love,” he protests, “It’s normal for me. I get overprotective, I get jealous, all because I fuckin’ love you. Because I want you to myself.”
“I’m not a fucking object, Rafe!”
“I know that,” he says, arms wrapping around you, holding you close, “I know you’re not an object. But you are mine. Mine and nobody else’s.” His hand moves up and down your back, soothing you as he coos, “I know I’m not a good person. I know that I can be crazy. But isn’t love supposed to be like that? Isn’t it supposed to make you crazy?”
“What do you mean?”
“Love isn’t supposed to be easy. Or normal,” Rafe declares, “It’s supposed to be chaotic and crazy. It’s supposed to be this all consuming, powerful thing.” His voice lowers, your stomach turning at the intensity in his gaze, the passion in his voice, “And that’s how I love you. I love you obsessively, possessively. I love you with every bit of me.”
“Your love scares me.”
He grips you harder, “I want you to be scared of me. Scared of losing me. I want you to feel like you can’t breathe without me.” Rafe leans in, resting his forehead against yours, “The way I love you, the way I’m fuckin’ obsessed with you. Isn’t that the most powerful kind of love? No one’s ever gonna love you the way I do. JJ can’t even come close to feeling a fraction of what I feel for you. I don’t care if your brother doesn’t want us together. We’re meant to be, baby. Nothing’s gonna convince me otherwise. I don’t wanna scare you, but I’m not letting you go. Ever.”
There’s something so dark about the way he says it. It should send you running for the hills, but his devotion… It weakens you. You shiver at his words, meeting his gaze.
“Rafe… I…”
Any protests you have die on your lips the moment he kisses you. He pushes you back onto the bed, his lips hot and hungry against your own. His hands move to cup your tits, squeezing so hard that it has him moaning, moving down further to push your panties aside. You feel the heat rising inside you as he pushes two fingers inside you, groaning when he feels how wet you already are for him.
“You fuckin’ love how much I love you,” he grunts as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, crooking them in a come hither motion he knows drives you insane, your hips raising up off the bed as you whine his name, “Yeah, this perfect little pussy wouldn’t be so wet if you didn’t love the way I love you. You love how crazy I am about you. That I’d kill for you, die for you.” Your eyes flutter shut, but you feel Rafe grip your jaw, squeezing just enough to make you whimper, “Keep those pretty eyes on me, baby. Want you to look into my eyes when you soak my fingers. When you remember who it is you belong to.”
You open your eyes, arms wrapping around his neck as he continues, the pads of his fingers rubbing up against that rough patch deep inside of you, the one you’re never quite able to reach on your own. He moves his fingers faster and faster, eyes still locked on yours. Your lips part to cry out his name, but he kisses you, swallowing your moans, and you realize it’s because John B might hear. He continues pumping his fingers in and out of you through your climax, making you whimper softly, trying to squirm away from him, but he just continues. He’s a man on a mission, determined to remind you just who it is that’s making you feel so good. Who it is that you love. Your second orgasm comes hurtling toward you far quicker than the last, making you bury your face in his chest as your cunt squeezes around him.
Rafe wastes little time undoing his pants, palming at his cock, working himself to full hardness. He gives it a quick tug, smacking the head of it against your clit. Your entire body shivers at the sensation, and so he does it again and again and again.
He stares down at you, a slight menace to his voice, his gaze dark, “Beg for my dick.”
“Please, Rafe,” you whisper, “Please, Rafe, I need you so bad. Need your dick inside of me. Fuck, Rafe, I need you, I’m begging.”
A smile curls at the corner of his lips as he pushes the tip inside you, the stretch making you sigh with pleasure, teasing you, “How’s that, baby? Just the tip?”
“More,” you beg, “More, please, Rafe, need you. Need your cock. Please, please, please-”
“Relax, baby,” he says, his voice mocking as he thrusts into you ever so slowly, inch by glorious inch, his fat cock filling you perfectly, “You know I’ll give you anything you want. Going to fuck this pretty little pussy so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow. You know that, don’t you? You love it when I mark you up. Always have.”
You’re unable to speak, lips parted in a silent scream of pleasure as he fucks into you relentlessly, the fat head of his cock bullying against your sweet spot with every thrust. The stretch has always bordered on the edge of pain and pleasure with how fucking girthy he is, but you love it. You love how perfectly he fills you, you love it when he fucks you, when he makes love to you. You close your eyes, letting your pleasure overtake your senses, arms wrapped around him as he pounds into you over and over, rasping your name against your ear, promising that he’s never going to let you out of his sight again. 
You squeeze around him, whining, feeling his thumb rubbing against your clit, the sensation sending you hurtling toward your third orgasm of the night, barely able to stop yourself from screaming his name. Rafe pulls out of you, pushing your hoodie up to reveal your bare tits, tugging at his cock furiously, teeth sunk into his bottom lip until, finally, he cums all of your breasts. You watch as he grabs his phone, taking a picture of you, your tits covered in his spend. You can’t help but giggle softly. You’ve always loved how desperate he is for you. How he tells you he can only get himself off to pictures of you, videos of his cock sliding into your tight little pussy over and over.
You’re taken by surprise when he doesn’t immediately join you and lay beside you, but rather, he moves to sit on his haunches, shoving your thighs apart, and burying his face between them. You gasp, hand moving to cover your mouth as you meet his gaze, feeling his tongue eagerly lapping at your folds. It’s almost too much, your entire body shaking from the feeling of the muscle moving in and out of you, the fucking obnoxious slurping noises he’s making before he wraps his lips around your clit, suckling at it. It doesn’t take much for him to make you come undone on his tongue, a soft moan of his name falling from your lips.
Rafe presses a filthy, open-mouthed kiss to your lips, forcing you to taste yourself, hands twisting in your hair as he pushes inside you again, already rock hard just from tasting you. His hand wraps around your throat as he fucks into you like you’re his own little toy, restricting your airflow just enough to keep things interesting. He stares into your eyes, snarling.
“You’re mine. All mine. No one else’s.”
“Yours,” you whisper in agreement, “All yours, Rafe. Always been yours.”
Your words make him fuck into you even harder, and this time, he cums first, spilling himself deep inside you, feeling your walls squeeze around him moments later as you reach your own peak.
Rafe covers the two of you with your blanket, and hands you your teddy bear.
You fall asleep in his arms, and this time, he’s not letting go.
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charlietheepicwriter7 · 2 months
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R̸̜̈́u̵̟͘t̶̺̓ḧ̵͇l̷̟̋ē̶̘s̵̨̎s̵̩͒ṋ̵̋e̵͙̐s̵̡̈́ś̸͙
Get in the Water prompt Storm alternate version Animatic Fanart
There was a spell, Constantine had explained after his own trip to the afterlife. Something to contain Danyal's soul long enough to resolve his unfinished business, to keep him still and away from the influences of his fellow dead. And if that didn't work, Constantine continued, then there were ways to force a spirit to rest. It was better for a ghost to move on by themselves, but if there was no other choice...
Damian hoped Danyal would choose to rest on his own. That he'd let him explain, finally.
Danyal had been weak. Strong in a fight, but too weak to kill, and that infuriated Damian. But he was scared more than he was angry. Because that weakness would get Danyal killed, could get Damian killed, could get the League killed. Even the newest recruits had a stronger desire to kill than Danyal.
He was the weakest link in the chain. And while their mother had taught them to be ruthless, Danyal had remained limp with mercy.
They needed Danyal's body. It would be Danyal's tie to the earth, Constantine explained as he joined them on the Batplane. The souls of the dead don't often linger on the mortal plain. The magician had speculated that the only reason Danyal had managed to manifest in the waters below Gotham was because of Damian's presence, but his remains would keep him stable this side of life for however long it took to heal his soul.
But was that even possible?
"I don't know, kid," Constantine admitted during the plane ride. "Wish I had a better answer for you, but... Your brother is a siren now. And from the sound of it? He really wants you dead."
"Then why didn't he kill me?" Damian argued. "He had hours to do it... or minutes..." The time he spent in that green world felt longer than the ten minutes Father couldn't find him, but... "He had me in his grasp and let me go. Doesn't that mean he didn't want to-"
"Have you ever heard the phrase 'Playing with your food?'" Constantine asked instead. "Sirens aren't known for letting their prey go. If we're out here, its because he wants us here."
They--Damian, Father, Constantine, Grayson, and Todd--landed in Nanda Parbat after a few hours. There was a crypt inside for members of the Al Ghul family who didn't use the Lazarus Pits. It was there Danyal's body was entombed. They would have to steal it.
And it was unfortunate that Constantine got them caught within five minutes of entry.
Damian glared daggers at the man as they were led towards the Lazarus Pit. Constantine shrugged. "What? I don't want assassins chasing after me because of some light grave robbing! Besides, we need to explain the situation anyway-"
"And what, precisely, needs to be explained?" asked a woman from inside the chamber. The heroes were pushed inside, only to see Talia Al Ghul standing where her father should have been. The Lazarus Pit hissed and boiled behind her, casing the cave in a ghoulish light.
Damian could hear laughing.
Father stepped forward. "Talia. Where's Ra's?" Grandfather was the biggest threat to their plan succeeding.
Mother... looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "I do not know. At the present moment... the Demon Head is missing."
You could hear a pin drop. "What do you mean?" Father demanded.
"It's as I said; he is missing. Yesterday, he was alone in the Pit, and hours later, no one could find him." She glanced behind her, at the waters, before looking back at them. "I had assumed he'd left to care for the League's interests. Now-" She tilted her chin up, looking down at them. "What exactly do you need to explain? What is so important that you break into my home to tell me?"
Stepping forward, Constantine explained. Mother looked grim as he spoke of Danyal, but did not interrupt. "We want to put his soul to rest. But for that, we need access to his body-"
"You dare ask for such a thing?" Mother snarled. "As if I even believe you. My son would never-"
"Your son?" Grayson snapped. "From the looks of it, you didn't care for either of your children!"
As the group descended into an argument, Damian heard laughter again, Danyal's high pitched giggle harmonizing with something deep and bone shaking. The Lazarus Pits loomed over him, beckoning him, whispering. Damian took a step towards it as his mother said, "I don't even have his body!"
"What?" Damian snapped at his mother, focusing back on the conversation. "But the crypts-"
"After your brother's murder, the Demon Head ordered for the culprit to be found. But they were never discovered." Because the culprit was Damian, he knew, and no one else ever learned about it. "I wanted to place him in the Pits immediately, but I was ordered to stay my hand until the murderer was caught. But..."
"He never was," Damian finished for her. "And then you put Danyal into the waters?"
"Yes." She closed her eyes. "And he never came back out. Even if it was too late, he'd still come back as the undead, but he never rose from the waters."
"Then this is entirely my fault."
"Finally," Danyal whispered in his ear, breath chilling his skin.
Damian did his best to ignore it. Danyal was haunting him. Danyal needed to be put to rest. If they couldn't do it Constantine's way, then they had to put him to rest another way.
Grayson looked troubled. "Robin, it's not your fault-"
"I'm the one who killed him," Damian confessed. Everyone stared at him. Grayson, horrified; Mother, blank; Father, betrayed. Damian continued, "I overheard you and Grandfather arranging a fight to the death, and I knew who would win. I couldn't... I couldn't allow Danyal to die without the Al Ghul name, in disgrace as the one who wasn't good enough. So I killed him, assassinated him, and now he's haunting me for revenge." Damian looked at the Pit. "So go ahead, Danyal."
"Damian, what are you saying?"
"Danyal wants revenge on the person who killed him; I'm giving it to him." Todd was staring at him. Damian might not be able to see past his helmet, but he could feel the respect coming off the man. "Danyal, I know you're here. Please come out." If he focused long enough, he could just making out wheezing breaths. "I can hear you, please-"
Father grabbed Damian by the shoulders. "Damian, listen to what you're saying! You're offering your life up for nothing!"
"B's right." Grayson placed a hand on his shoulder. "There's got to be another way. You don't have to do this!"
"Yes I do!" Damian ripped himself out of Nightwing's grip. "I'm the one who killed him! I'm the one at fault! My brother is suffering because of me, I have to save him-"
Stepping between them all, Mother slapped him across the face.
And the Pit's whispers fell silent.
Damian stared up at his mother, cheek throbbing with pain. She glared back. "Cease this behavior at once," she snapped. "There's no need to get so worked up over a ghost, of all thing-"
"T̴̯̃al̵̬͂ị̴̿a̵̮̕ ̵̼͐A̴̗̕l̷͈̆ ̴͚̓G̵͎̀h̷̻͒u̶̜͋l̴͍̀."
This time, everyone could hear Danyal's voice, filled with static and corrupted. Damian swallowed as his dead brother continued,
"D̸͕͠o̶̪̅ ̸͍̆ỹ̵̗ö̸̲ũ̸̧ ̶͖̚k̶̻͊ņ̸͐o̸̹̚ẘ̸̙w̷̛̹ḧ̸͚́o̷͉̅ ̵͈̑I̶̪̽ á̵̞m̶͙̂?̸̻͂"
The cavern shook as the Lazarus Pit bucked, a wave forming in the absolute center of the water. The wave rose, pillaring up above their head and brushing the ceiling. A cold wind rushed through the room and blew out the torches on the walls, leaving only embers and the occasional florescent behind. Damian braced himself for the waters to rush out and flood.
Instead, the water fell back into the pit, like it had never risen in the first place, leaving behind a lone figure in its wake.
"Danyal," Mother whispered.
And the dead boy glared back at her with pure contempt.
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If It All Fell (4)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.
Word count: 3.7k
Warnings: Angst, descriptions of pain
a/n: Thank you again for reading this series, I really love writing it :) More to come! I really really appreciate feedback, as always ♡
Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ☆ Part 3 ✶ Part 5 ☁
Series Masterlist
~~
“It’s going to feel like a push,” Rhys explained, his fingers intertwined between his knees. “And then you’ll know I’m in your mind. It shouldn’t hurt—maybe just a pinch and then a pressure.” 
You nodded, clutching the arms of your chair with white-knuckled fingers. 
“He’s in my mind all the time. Uninvited, might I add. Doesn’t hurt, it’s just annoying,” Mor added. 
Turning your head in her direction, eyes downcast toward the floor, you nodded to her, too. 
The faelights gave the room a warm amber hue. It was the day after you met Rhys—or rather, became reacquainted with him—and the day he was going to look for your memories. Mor sat beside you, the blue dress she wore shimmering beneath the glow of the room, and Azriel stood guard by the door. What he was guarding you from, you had no idea, but the act seemed to comfort him. 
“Was Cassian busy?” you asked, and then immediately regretted it. 
It wasn’t Cassian’s job to be here. He was a grown man with a position in this court. He was busy, obviously. You also barely knew him. 
What a stupid question.
Rhys breathed through a smile, anyway. “He’s up at the camps today. But I’ll let him know you asked for him. He’ll love that.”
“Oh, you don’t have to—” 
“He’ll love it. I was being genuine,” Rhys comforted, interrupting the anxiousness rising in your tone. “Should we get started?”
You took a deep breath meant to rid the feeling of nausea overtaking you. It didn’t work. 
“Yes,” you replied, easing your trembling fingers into your lap. “Yes, I’m ready.” 
Rhys kicked up from the table he was leaning against, spinning a chair around in front of you. He sat, and the instant his knees bent to make the descent, Azriel was out from his hiding place in the dark. He loomed over the High Lord, shadows agitated, wings tucked in tight. To his credit, Rhys only gave the new, menacing presence a quick glance. 
“Should I keep my eyes open? Or do we have to touch or—” 
“Just relax,” Rhys offered. “With everything going on, your mind should be wide open. This will be simple and fast. I promise.” 
A promise from a High Lord—from your family, you reminded yourself. This was going to be fine. You doubled up on tonics this morning, so the pain in your head was minimal and you were safe here.
This was going to be fine. 
You hadn't even noticed the rapid pace of your breath until Azriel’s shadows came to wind around your shoulders, the quick uptick of the darkness more telling than anything else. The small wisps traveled up and down with the rhythm of your breath until it began to even out, and then they curled around your cheeks as if to caress you. When they made the occasional pass by your ears, it felt as if you were being told secrets—as if you were important enough to know something no one else did. 
Yes, this was going to be fine. 
Rhys cleared his throat. 
The first step into your mind was jarring, the sensation making you physically jump. Rhys seemed to raise a hand up at the entry—to knock on something or open it up—but he passed through a permeable wall instead. He passed through with ease. 
The High Lord made a low, surprised sound that echoed in the room. 
“What?” Azriel gruffly asked. 
Rhys paused. “Well, nothing, I just—I just expected some of her magic to have remained where it was. For some of it to be protecting her mind.” 
“Magic?” you whispered. 
Azriel’s eyes snapped to you as if on instinct—as if the sound of your voice was simply something he always followed—but his expression did not match the sentiment. He looked haunted, a shadow cast over the grim line of his mouth. 
“I have magic?” 
Your whisper was cut off by a sharp intake of air. Rhys had moved on from the outskirts of your mind, each step deeper a clicking echo in the stark chamber. He went in directions that felt practiced, like he’d been here before but everything had been rearranged, removed. 
You watched as the High Lord ran a rough hand over his mouth, his brows furrowed in concentration. 
Mor placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. 
Azriel watched the man within your mind, a preternatural stillness stiffening his limbs.
“It’s like you’ve been wiped.” Rhys shook his head. “But that doesn’t make any sense. You still know language, you know how to—to be fae. But everything else is…” 
Within your mind, you felt a darkness roll from Rhys. He was sending something out, inspecting the area. The pain began then, but you weren’t going to tell them. You weren’t going to break and ruin something else. 
The darkness invaded small crevices in your mind, sleuthing and slinking in areas you hadn’t been aware of yourself. More pressure built up behind your skull. 
You could still manage it. 
The air was knocked from your lungs, but you could still manage it. 
“Rhysand,” Azriel warned. Blue began to overpower the orange glow of the room. 
“I think I’m almost somewhere,” the High Lord replied. 
“She’s—” 
“Keep going,” you gritted out. “It just feels odd,” you lied. “I’m okay, keep going.” 
Azriel shook his head, face twisting in an expression of grief that almost had you taking back your words. He abandoned his observation of Rhys and approached your chair, kneeling down next to you, the bone of his knee harshly pressing against the floor. 
He nodded, something resolute in his eyes. “Okay. Okay, whatever you want.” 
From beside you, you heard Mor’s pained sigh, felt her turn to look away.
You tore your eyes from the piousness before you, but Azriel did not budge. His elbow came to rest on the flat surface of his thigh, his fingers extending out to touch the wooden leg of your chair. 
“Please, keep going.” 
Rhys nodded. The darkness in your mind expanded. It flowed like a cloud rolling out before a storm, reaching every corner of unsearched territory. There was nothing it couldn’t reach, and good, let it fill you up. Let it consume your mind because it was no use to you in this state. Azriel was kneeling before you, desperate and scared, and you couldn’t understand why, so let the darkness become you. 
If it led to understanding, to your life, you would withstand this pain. 
The first scream that left you ripped through the air like a strike, unsettling any gentleness that had resided in the small office. Rhys had found something; his darkness had collided with a wall—the only wall, only structure, in your mind—and he had gone to investigate. With the simple press of his hand against the sturdy cobalt, a blinding pain found a home in your skull. 
Azriel jolted, the fingers that had gripped your chair flying to cover your knee. 
You screamed again. And again. 
“Stop! Enough, Rhysand. Get out of her head,” Azriel ordered, but he sounded as if he were underwater. He raised his voice above your screams but he sounded so far away. 
You collapsed forward, hands coming up to cradle your head. There was a touch at your back, maybe another along your hair—you couldn’t tell. The pain was too great. 
“There’s a wall. Something foreign. The energy isn’t hers,” Rhys called. He sounded distant as well. 
The world grew light. 
“I don’t care,” Azriel gritted out. “We can try again later. She’s going to pass out and last time—” 
“Keep… going,” you panted, fighting past the pain to insert yourself into the conversation.
This was your decision, your mind. Your life that was torn away. 
“Y/n, please. You don’t understand,” Azriel begged, shifting forward and gripping your wrists in his scarred hands. “This isn’t good for you. This isn’t—please.” 
Sweat beaded at your brow. Rhys’s presence hadn’t left your mind. “I have… to know. Have to try.” 
“Rhys, maybe we shouldn’t—” Mor began in a soft, hesitant voice. 
“Go.” With a simple word from you, Rhys bypassed all else. 
Pain exploded at the first talon scratching down the slope of the foreign wall. You surpassed screams, your voice breaking at the peak of the most violent one. At some point, the hands on your head were replaced by larger ones, and you found the texture of them to be a grounding point. Something about the feeling was familiar, like your skin was used to the patterns, the raised edges and the divots along fingers. They traced soothing shapes along your cheeks, dried tears you didn’t realize were cascading down your face. 
And then Rhys stood abruptly, his chair rocking back and forth with his departure. The pain dulled, leaving you with heavy breaths and a lingering ache you weren’t sure would ever go away. 
“You’re okay, angel. You’re okay.” 
Breathing in was difficult. The world felt off its axis. 
Pale-faced and blinking, Rhys breathed out, “We need to go to Helion.” 
You gathered the strength to look up further. 
Azriel’s expression crumbled, his beautiful face only inches from yours and filled with such dread that when you succumbed to the lightness creeping into your vision, you feared the descent. 
~~
Your loss of consciousness was brief, which was, apparently, very unexpected. 
Your once stiff chair was no longer beneath you, and where you expected to be folded up into an uncomfortable shape and cold, you were instead held against a warm, vibrating presence. 
No, not vibrating, that wasn’t right. Just speaking—you were being held by someone and they were speaking. 
“—back there. Rhys, it’s not a good idea. If you said it was the same energy from before, we can’t—I can’t—” 
“He is gone, Az. You know that. Bringing her there would only serve to help her. You know Helion would go to lengths…” 
Your comprehension faded in and out, matching the swells of pain in your head. You were reluctant to open your eyes and welcome the assault of light and sensation that would surely greet you when you did. 
There was a soft lull in the conversation, although you couldn’t decipher where it had left off. You felt a light pressure along your face and welcomed the relief and comfort that came with it. Some of the ache dissipated along the path of the touch. 
“Her screams,” you heard Azriel stress, and it felt as if his words were spoken against your skin. “They were so reminiscent of that night. All of this is.” 
“I know, brother,” Rhys replied. 
“I don’t know if I can do this. If I can survive this.”
A sniff. Something wet along your jaw. The chest you were pressed against seemed to tremble. 
“You have to. She’ll need you when she comes out on the other side of this.” 
“I know,” Azriel whispered, words weaker but somehow even closer. “I know.” 
Disregarding all of your senses that argued against it, you cracked your eyes open. The lights were still low, but even that fact didn’t stop the burning behind your eyes from amplifying. A repercussion from Rhysand’s investigation, surely. 
Whoever was left in the room gave you time to adjust, no one speaking or moving or expecting anything from you other than breath. You felt the hold on you loosen, but not withdraw. 
Part of you, a deep, intrinsic part, knew it was Azriel. His voice and his scent and the feel of his body seemed to be things you could recognize even when nothing else made sense. So, you knew it was him holding you from the moment your mind began to catch up with the environment. 
And still, seeing him so close, feeling him against you—it was a shock to your already overwhelmed system. 
You groaned, face scrunching as you tried to gather your bearings. Azriel’s legs shifted, and your body moved along with them. The motion served as a catalyst in your effort to sit up. 
“Hey, hold on,” Azriel cautioned. Hearing his voice so soft—so careful—had you blinking, trying to parse out what was real and what was still hazy.
“Did…did we figure out what was wrong?” you asked, groggy. “Did you find anything?” 
You turned your head with sharp momentum, regretting the act as soon as you did it. But you didn’t have time for pain—for fear. Rhys looked back at you with a sympathetic smile, both of you ignoring the sound of protest from Azriel at your movement. 
His hand moved to rest along the back of your neck as Rhys spoke, keeping your head in one place. Keeping it supported and still. 
You didn’t have the energy to shake it off. 
Did you want to? 
“I found something. Not as much as I’d have liked, but it’s something to go off of. We’ll… have to go to Day. There’s more information there. I’ve sent Mor to sort out the logistics.” 
A glance around the room confirmed that the blonde was no longer there. It must have been a quick decision to send her away. As quick as Azriel tugging you out of your chair and holding you on the floor. 
Rhys didn’t seem uncomfortable by the display, but of course he wouldn’t—not if his goal was to drive two enemies back into friendship. 
If you were ever even friends to begin with.
The trajectory of your thoughts made you grimace in Azriel’s arms, and even though your entire body protested it, you shifted away from him, hands coming down to the floor to support your weight. A soft grunt left you.
Why did a search through your mind leave you so weak? 
“My lo—y/n, stop,” Azriel fumbled over his words, reaching out for you. 
But with confusion and pain marring your state of mind—causing your usually perfectly practiced, patient replies to skew—you only struggled more and pushed farther away. There were too many unknowns, too many questions, too many feelings surrounding this man who looked at you as if you were never-ending but pushed you away as if you were finite. 
You couldn’t take it. 
And maybe this is how you—the real you, the one with her memories—would react, anyway. Everyone always seemed to expect a strong will and unyielding tenacity, their disappointment at your meekness glaringly obvious. 
Maybe you were supposed to fight against these secrets and this pain. 
“I’ve got it,” you grunted out, pushing closer to the desk, closer to the rift you didn’t understand between you and Azriel. 
You wanted Mor back. 
She made more sense. 
Looking up from your struggle, you caught Azriel and Rhysand in the midst of a staring match, their expressions firm and drawn. With what you now understood about Rhys and his powers, you were sure they were communicating somehow. 
When Rhys spoke next, your hypothesis was only confirmed. “Az is going to take you back to your room,” he said, eyes never leaving the shadowsinger. “He’s going to help you pack.” 
When the High Lord left, the door clicking shut with finality, tension blanketed the room. The worst part of it all was your lack of context. Something big was happening, something immeasurable, and you had no upper hand—not even a foot on the ground. 
You looked down at your palms and then back up at Azriel. He had yet to move from his position kneeling before you, hands still outstretched in some fruitless reach, elbows bent and tense against his sides.
You wanted Mor back. 
She seemed to love you—to want you here.
“I can get back to my room on my own,” you offered, and even though the words were barely a whisper, they were resounding in the silent room. 
Azriel licked his lips and looked down. When his hands fell to his sides, you took that as compliance, as acceptance. On shaking arms, you attempted to lift yourself up. 
“I haven’t been doing this right.” Your unsuccessful attempt abruptly ceased. Azriel continued. “I barely got it right the first time. This time… this time I—” 
“It’s okay, Azriel. I understand, I think.” 
Hazel eyes met yours, the collection of colors confused beneath furrowed brows. 
You so badly wanted to soothe away all of the unease within them, to brush your thumb along his brow even though you were sure he wouldn’t want to do the same—not without his family present to witness it. 
“What do you mean?” he asked. 
You wanted to sigh, but too much air might’ve made you pass out again. Instead, you bit the inside of your cheek, twisting your lips as you considered the best way to phrase the thoughts that had been plaguing you. 
“No one will tell me about you—about who we were to each other before I lost everything. I thought maybe it was because you were going to tell me, but then you wanted nothing to do with me and I understood a little better. I understood that maybe we weren’t friends before all of this. And that’s okay, I know that we lived lives that I can’t remember. 
“But then… sometimes you do things that don’t make sense to me. You say things that don’t add up with what I’ve come to terms with and I think… I think my mind and my body get confused. It’s strange,” you admitted, using what little strength you still coveted to push yourself back against Rhys’s desk. “But I think I understand now. And I’m sorry if I make it weird. I think that even if my mind understands who you are to me, there are other parts that don’t quite catch up.” 
“And who am I to you?” Azriel asked, voice raw. 
You looked up from your fingers to meet his gaze again, greedily relishing in the calm they provided you. It was always calm there. “I don’t know. But I know I don’t have the honor of meaning anything to you. Maybe we didn’t get along, or maybe we just never meshed. But I can tell you struggle with this new role—whatever it is the Inner Circle has asked you to do with me. I can tell this isn’t natural for you, spending time with me, trying to be my friend.” 
Azriel fell further back on his ankles, his wings unfurling from their tight coil to drape along the floor in a defeated posture. It looked wrong; you’d been around these men and their wings and they never dragged. 
Azriel’s mouth parted slightly, his jaw off-centered. His gaze left you in favor of staring at the floor, and you surmised that you caught him. You figured him out. This pawn he had become—you had freed him from the game. 
But then sighed and he said, “No,” and the word was whispered with so much sadness that none of this felt like a game anymore. Not that it was fun; this had never been fun.
“No,” he repeated. “Y/n, spending time with you—being around you—it’s as natural as breathing for me.” He looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head. “Gods, I’ve done this so wrong.” 
“Azriel, it’s—” 
“Even just hearing you say my name. After so many days without it, I could sit and just listen to you talk and I would be content.” 
Your fingers felt numb. 
Azriel stopped staring at the ceiling. 
“We have always meshed,” he said. “I was being selfish—avoiding you when I shouldn’t have. The truth, y/n, is that we are close. Very close. Rhysand, Mor, Cassian—they don’t have to ask me to forge some… bond with you because that has already been 300 years in the making.” 
“But at lunch and every time I—” 
“It’s hard and I have been a coward,” Azirel interrupted, shifting forward until his knees brushed against yours on the ground. “This has been inexplicably harder for you and I have been a coward and there is no part of me that wants to be away from you.” 
It somehow felt as if your life was turning upside down again because you had made conclusions and assumptions and none of them were right. You had come to terms with the fact that you felt safest with a man who wanted nothing to do with you and had mourned the loss already. It had been strange to mourn something you had only just gained, but it had felt even stranger to lose Azriel. 
It hadn’t felt right.
“So we’re friends?” you tentatively asked, feeling the wooden corner of the desk dig into your spine. 
Azriel swallowed. “Yes.” 
“And you… like being my friend?” 
“Very much.” 
“Are you sure?” 
Azriel laughed, the sound so startlingly joyous you felt it swelling in your own chest. It filled you up, consumed you, and you wished for a long moment that you hadn’t been so willing to allow Rhys’s darkness into the crevices of your mind. This feeling belonged there. Only this. 
“I am positive,” he assured, a smile lingering on his face. “Being your friend has been my crowning achievement for the last three centuries.” 
“That doesn’t seem like much of an achievement,” you replied, the snark in your tone surprising you. 
It seemed to surprise Azriel as well, his brows shooting to his hairline. “Fortunately, you are not the authority on my achievements, especially since you don’t remember them and can’t recall how amazing it is to be your friend.” 
He kept tripping over that word—friend. 
You decided to ignore it, too pleased by the way you made Azriel laugh and smile and not look at you the way he had been for the past several days. 
And something was glowing in your chest, something that seemed to replace the near-constant ache you had grown so accustomed to. 
Later, you would ask more questions. Later, you would ask Azriel about Day Court and the reason why he silently panicked every time you ran your hand along your temple to ease the pressure there. 
But for now, you smiled at the shadowsinger, and he smiled back.
Part 5 ☁
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navybrat817 · 2 months
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Pencil You In
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky thinks you've been working too hard and need a break. Word Count: Over 1.3k Warnings: Fluff, crying, reader is tired, slight insecurities, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Partially inspired by an image the beautiful @bucksangel sent me and life stretching me a bit thin, here's a little ficlet. Lovelies, take breaks. You deserve them and you are more than enough! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You slumped in your chair of your home office as you reread the sentence on the screen for what felt like the hundredth time. Weariness had already settled deep in your bones long before you looked over the document, the words blurring together the longer you stared. Blinking a few times didn’t help as you reached for your mug, only to remember that you had finished your extra helping of caffeine an hour ago. Begrudgingly, you set it down and huffed as if it was somehow the fault of the cup that it didn’t automatically fill itself.
“Almost done,” you whispered to yourself, straightening up so you could do one last readthrough.
It was a long week in what felt like a series of long weeks. Almost every minute of your schedule was accounted for lately and all you wanted to do was relax. People were depending on you though and you could relax over the weekend.
Hopefully.
“You should take a break.”
You didn’t turn around immediately at the sound of Bucky’s gentle voice, but you did manage a smile when you glanced over your shoulder a moment later. He didn’t return the smile, concern swirling in his blue irises. You were afraid to stare into the pool of his eyes for too long out of fear of drowning.
And, god, you were drowning. It would be so easy to reach out and take the lifeline that was his hand. To just admit that you need some time to rest because you were tired. Hadn’t you earned it? Didn’t you deserve a break after the hard work you put in?
But maybe you didn’t deserve it. What you did wasn’t as important as someone like Bucky. You firmly shut the door on that thought before the words could make their way out of your mouth. If he could’ve read your mind and known you thought that, it would’ve disappointed him. Not in you, but whoever made you decide that what you did wasn’t enough.
Because you were always expected to do and be more.
“I will in a few minutes,” you said.
He let out a heavy sigh as he crossed his arms, making you tear your gaze away. You didn’t comment on his disheveled hair, like he kept running a hand through it. Likely because he worried about you stretching yourself too thin. “That was what you said a few minutes ago,” he reminded you, his voice light instead of accusatory.
You shut your eyes in the hopes that the tears wouldn’t come and took a breath. “I really will this time,” you promised, giving the document one last readthrough once you got your emotions under control.
“I’ll hold you to that,” he said.
If you wouldn’t take a break for your own sake, you had to do it for Bucky.
“Okay. I think that’s at a good stopping point,” you said, making you saved it before you closed it out. If you lost all of that after everything you put into it so far, you would’ve lost it. Before you could move to the next task on your list though, an alert popped up on your screen. Your heart dropped to your stomach because you didn’t remember scheduling anything else today. You didn’t have the mental or emotional capacity for more. “What is this?” You mumbled before you opened it.
Reading the subject line, you did a double take.
CUDDLE WITH BUCKY
You covered your mouth to smother your giggles. “I don’t remember scheduling this meeting.”
“It’s a good thing I remembered, baby,” he said as you spun around in your chair, sauntering over to you with a smirk as you tried not to laugh again. “It’s a mandatory meeting in our bed. No rescheduling. And I expect it to go the full hour. Maybe longer.”
“How did you manage to set up an alert on my computer?” You asked as he grasped your hands and helped you to your feet, having to steady yourself a bit when your head spun.
At least you remembered to eat. Well, that wasn’t technically true. Bucky brought you your meal earlier because he was the best boyfriend you could ask for.
“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he winked before he brought a palm to your cheek, his gaze shifting to something more serious. “But it seemed to get your attention.”
Your cheeks burned as you averted your gaze. “I wasn’t…” you trailed off, an apology on the tip of your tongue. Had you neglected him this past week? Or the ones before that?
Did he think you were a bad girlfriend?
Bucky slid his hand to your chin so you’d look at him again. “Hey,” he whispered when your lower lip trembled. “I didn’t mean anything by that and I’m not upset with you. I don’t think I could ever be upset with you. But, baby, you’ve been working your ass off even more than usual. I’m so fucking proud of you, but you need to take a real break.”
Your eyes burned, but no tears surfaced as he searched your gaze. “But-”
“What is it you always tell me about work?”
“That it’ll be there tomorrow, but we may not be” you answered, sighing. He was right. You couldn’t let work and expectations others set for you take control of your life. “I told you that the last time you ran yourself ragged with missions.”
He brought his mouth to your forehead to kiss it, his scruff tickling your skin. “And now I’m returning the favor,” he said against your skin. “So, come to bed. Lay with me. Just…”
“Be present,” you finished.
No phones. No work. No outside forces interfering. Just the pleasure of being with each other.
“Exactly,” he said, tugging you by the hand. “C’mon. We’re both late for our meeting.”
“Yes, Sir,” you teased, smiling when he groaned.
“This is a cuddle meeting, but it’ll turn into gently fucking you to sleep if you keep talking like that,” he warned you, pulling you to bed a bit faster.
“You say that like that’s a bad thing,” you smiled, gasping as he gently pushed you onto the mattress.
He braced a hand on each side of your head as he leaned down, his breath fanning your face when you whimpered. “Sex after we cuddle,” he breathed, sending a shiver down your spine. “Then we can cuddle again.”
You leaned up to brush your lips against his. “Deal,” you agreed.
Once he maneuvered you to the middle of the bed, his large body spooning yours, you couldn’t stop the tears that came. You bit your lip so he wouldn’t hear your soft sobs, but he must’ve sensed them as he grazed his nose along your neck affectionately and pulled you closer in his arms. You didn’t realize just how much you needed to be held until then.
It was as if all the stress faded away.
“I really am proud of you. Hardest working woman I know and always taking care of me,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your pulse as more tears hit the pillow.
“Because I love you, Bucky,” you whispered. Who wouldn’t want to take care of someone as amazing as James Buchanan Barnes?
“And I love you, too. So much,” he swore to you, turning you in his arms so he could kiss the tears away. The first kiss lingered on your cheek as he let out a shuddering breath. The sight of you crying likely broke his heart, but he didn’t say anything about it for your sake. “So let me be your personal hero today, okay? Let me take care of you and show that you’re more than enough.”
The words were so heartfelt and touching that you were surprised you didn’t melt on the spot. “You already are,” you promised before his lips met yours.
And he could pencil himself in for cuddles and more whenever he wanted.
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I'll say it again, lovelies, you deserve breaks and you are more than enough. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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anantaru · 1 year
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— cute things they do unintentionally
including tighnari, scaramouche, alhaitham, kaveh x gn! reader
꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, crack??, very sweet and loving, they adore you
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— tighnari + his ears twitch and he blushes easily around you
the usual self assured and poised tighnari had a lovely habit of being all over the place in front of you— after all, he‘s unquestionably in love with you, wholly, and he adores you.
on the treacly occasion of that— when you decide to casually meet up for a tranquil walk with your sweet forest ranger or a serene spending at home enclosed by his arms, you can clearly see a diverse change in mannerism, yet one detail in particular outshines the others abundantly.
it‘s when he reacts at one of your jokes, but not just that, it can be a random notion or story you would happily talk about, what you happened to do these past hours you had been apart— perhaps a pretty rose catching your attention, its sprouting scent squaring over your nostrils, each petal so beautiful and soft— but his cheeks then idly bristle with a fire-like convulsion when you drift off into your day dream while hugging yourself into his chest, and tighnari shelters a pink color on his face.
regardless of how, his ears then, you called it! twitch.
once, twice, it's frantic, far and wide— but he knows what that feeling is too, he knows better than to desperately fight against it so instead he swiftly averts his gaze from you to recollect himself, somehow.
for tighnari, it was clear as day that this task was challenging, at bottom you were simply irresistible to him— you meet him and his breathing shortens, but he is content with you, yet wholly engulfed that it left him bereaved of required oxygen.
of course, well, this was indeed happening to him right now, but he asks himself, then grunts in frustration, not again, why must it always happen on the most burdensome times for him to lose himself, especially when he was just growing tired and had attempted to fall asleep surrounded by your consummating scent and weightless traces?
"is something the matter?"
it wasn't unusual for you to point out a dissimilarity of his habitual behavior, and your eyes were webbed with transparent worry that tighnari felt immensely guilty over, because it was him who inflicted it upon you.
to flip the coin into a distinct course of action, he says your name— a little breathy, silk-like— but it translates into the language of your heart and exudes into your body.
"i‘m alright, *cough* just caught something in my eye."
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— scaramouche + gets all happy and excited when he tells you stories
scaramouche's velvety, smooth voice plays in your head on repeat, when he talks to you it's a sign of love, a sign of i want you to know this, or to elaborate further, it's evident to;
'i need you to know this because you're important to me and only you matter.'
you're fixated on his ecstatic sewn pupils and you openly admit to yourself that you cannot get enough of all the witty stories he would tell you on a daily basis— it did not matter to you how minuscule or of little importance they may be, what truly mattered was that scaramouche had begun to be more open and forthcoming towards you.
what your charming boyfriend was not aware of nor fathomed, was how contrasting his behavior would turn whenever he's thoroughly meshed in his story telling mode.
true feverishness and a drastic hurdle of thrill settles in his mannerism as he excitedly continues his own personal anecdotes of the passing day.
but those eyes, those spirited indigo eyes were vitally euphonious to the concealed dimples on his face that split larger after each new word spelled out, around the corners of his mouth to be exact, therefore accentuating his doughy, handsome physical responses.
extending far down, scaramouche was acquainted with undoubtable sureness that it was you who helped him grow, who showed him an escape route from the blooded thorns of his past.
"hey!" wow, what a way to snap you back to reality.
scaramouche sounded like he was in dire need of some attention from you and his hands were awkwardly tugged to each side of his body— though, let me get you in on a secret, the secret of all secrets, he actually longed to have them drawn on your frame, in effect, glissading them over your soft skin to pull you into a hug afterwards.
"are you even listening to me?!"
"of course i am!" you're lying, you're not.
in actuality you leaned into the delicious easement of your thoughts again— precisely about comforting memories from your boyfriend, even though he was right in front of you, in all of his splendor beauty, feeling understood even in your silence.
"okay, so what did i just say?"
"uhm."
damn you scaramouche and your refined ability to look right through someones skin and capture a glimpse of everything he needed to know.
"okay okay." you lean back into your chair— defeated, hands dramatically throw up in the air while fighting back the urge to say something that would drive your boyfriend off the edge.
but, at long last, you go in anyways, "you're just very cute." and it's the same again, his eyes widen in eternal radiance— rivaling celestial bodies in outer space while kuni seals his lips together in frustration because you managed to catch him off guard again.
the man huffs before erratically coughing out, attempting to distract you from his flustered face, but we all know he won't manage to accomplish that.
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— alhaitham + scrunches his brows together when he complains about something
alhaitham abominates working. the end.
precisely supplemental hours of his existing work tasks that mostly focus on him aiding helpless akademiya scholars in their failing research.
while— being in a relationship with the acting grand sage of the sumeru akademiya naturally came with a lot of things, both good and bad feats— as might be expected the goods always outshine the negatives, you despite that understood your boyfriends increasing urge to get rid of his current title as fast as possible.
alhaitham was a busy man now, even busier than beforehand— and he regarded it with disgust, throughout-going abhorred it, that he couldn't come home at his routined time to spend some additional hours with you, his sweet significant other.
what alhaitham does know was that whenever he did arrive from a fatigued day— you will always, heavy emphasizing on the always, earnestly wait for him with a giant hot cup of tea being planted on the kitchen counter, on stand by and ready to be tasted by the man you loved like nothing else on this world.
"you're home later than usual."
a gasp of surprise evaporated from within as you began to point out the obvious, excitedly strolling towards alhaitham to gift him a proper welcome home, accentuating the passion filled gesture with a little peck on his warm cheek.
"it's unbelievable, isn't it?" someone must've woken up a tilt grumpy today, you figured, but let him carry on with his words.
"—and one might think that if there is nothing to do, i can simply take my leave." he continues, kicking his boots off his feet, one by one, while breathlessly sinking into the giant couch.
before the tea would turn cold, you decided to gracefully hand him the home made beverage, but not darting yourself off him, listening eagerly to what he had to say.
"but no, they need me for every. minuscule. task."
and alhaitham's eyes twitch, again— though his brows, they were pressed together so damn tight, if you didn't know any better you would've expected him to pop a blood vessel by now.
"do i look like i am interested in social interactions?" he asks you now, yes, dead serious while pulling you in with his hypnotizing eyes— although lifted with some serious eye bags, they continued to hold a graven significance that had you drawn to him the most.
but this situation was wearing thin, at least alhaitham was alarmingly more tested than usual, but at last you couldn't help yourself and work against your honest reactions, laughing at how awfully adorable he could be at times, without smiling— but it's so sudden, his face was showing so much emotions and it only encourages the sharp sting inside of you to giggle once again.
but do not get those particular things messed up nor into wrong directions— because seeing alhaitham have a hard time at work wasn't the humorous part at hand, it was the way he had told them to you— nose held up high while he repeatedly huffs away the bothering hair strands falling into his face, which only adds fuel to the burning frustration in himself, or his eyes a touch nudged together and rolling into the back of his head at each of his own sentences spoken.
an outer perspective would ultimately determine that he's in reality talking and agreeing with himself.
"have i unintentionally said something humorous?"
"no." you immediately snort back at him and swiftly rub over your saturated eyes, because yes, you indeed laughed yourself to tears.
"or maybe you did." and you idly lean next to him while keeping one hand on his thigh, "but you're home now, please rest."
perhaps this was what alhaitham had wanted to hear all this time— as the second you said it he exhales deeply, through his parted lips but greatly, he doesn't think he has any more energy left in his body if he was being honest.
but that's it now, it was the ideal time to rest, nothing matters, not the past nor the future. he was in the precious, safe confines of his home with the person he loves the utmost (and his roommate napping next doors).
"you're right, apologies." you immediately know alhaitham's embarrassed when he's muttering his words, but he feels his heart audibly beat in his chest and so do you.
"nothing to apologize for, my love."
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— kaveh + searches for your touch whenever you spend time together
kaveh's heart blossoms throughout the entire day with an immediate segment of impassioned love the trifling moment he catches onto your silver like voice musing into his ears— thank the archons you‘re here, because he might‘ve lost his mind if he was about to stay without your company for much longer.
in point of fact, it's beyond easy to forget the pressuring hardships he has experienced in the past when he looks into nothing but your fascinating eyes— it's spellbound, featherlight.
on the other hand, in his own imagination, kaveh was sure that in reality he had nothing to offer back to you— even with you kindly assuring him that he’s nothing but the best and perfect in your eyes, over and over until it’s carved into his damned skull, he continues to harvest that deep rooted insecurity in him. although regardless of his broadening insecurities, he continues to treat you like you deserve nothing but the world.
it can be spoken with enormous confidence that he can‘t get enough of you. kaveh didn't think of wanting to show you off— or maybe he did but not in an over the top way, he was just so much in love with you and had made it his own personal achievement to make the entirety of sumeru know that you're taken, yes it's true, everyone keep their hands off you because you are taken, and he was the one who captured your heart.
now with that out of the way, whenever you would decide to go out on a walk or grab a beverage to go, kaveh would unintentionally plant his palm on your lower back, keeping it there.
or when you're enjoying a warm day outside, finding great comfort in the beautiful panorama of sumeru city with the gratifying scent of padisarah establishing in your nostrils, he'd cautiously flicker his fingers against your own while interlocking them in the process, so he could hold your hand and be with you, even closer than before, and experience those little things that had him weak on the knees and indisputably giddy.
he needs his hands on you— around your shoulders, scattered on your back, coupling fingers into each other or a fine-drawn peck on your cheek before entering the cafe together.
while he does most of those things unintentionally, you will push him over the edge the moment you initiate those things yourself, when it is you who does it to him— it's when his lips slightly part and his eyes are blown out with both surprise and deep rooted love, when you cheekily smile back at kaveh while taking his hand to walk and rush him towards another precious spot you had been made aware of in sumeru city.
"you'll love this place baby, trust me!"
you assure kindly, cheeks prickling a warm cradle with your belly welcoming the sweet butterflies courteously— pulling kaveh to the desired destination and by the matching reactions of your connected bodies, he does the same to you.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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bbc-trolls · 2 months
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You know it just hit me. Branch had no concrete belief that Poppy and he would actually get together if he confessed. His line was "just need the guts to tell her that she's the one" with no elaboration. He just wanted to say "I love you" and share how happy Poppy makes him. That was his only running goal!!! And all the context he'd ever gotten about Poppy's feelings for him was "being your friend is important to me, i rely on you, i value you your contributions". And he decided to confess regardless. He even told her she "could" respond with an answer(?) IF she WANTED. That's it!!!! He had no expectations at all he just wanted to tell her how special she was to him!!!!
And then when he finally confessed after they had a ginormous potentially friendship-ending fight in such words as "i care about you more than anyone else in the world" it was a closing statement to what he felt was a broken connection. He dove into saving Poppy from Barb and the subsequent aftermath of the Rock-apocalypse probably overjoyed that they're even close friends still.
So after he confessed the second time and they high-fived epically with their good connection, did Branch, like.... think that was it???
Did he expect things to go back to normal after that?? His only other experience after saying "I love you" was them just being closer friends. Did he feel relieved just to get his true feelings off his chest? Could he have thought Poppy meant it platonically when she said she loved him too (again)?? He actually gave very little (like no) indication that he understood that his feelings were being reciprocated he just was like "Looks like this friendship is back on :) shall we high-five now?"
Did Poppy have to spell it out for him after they went home???? Was she like "So........ *giggle* Branch, um, did you want to do anything to celebrate?" And would he have been like "Celebrate what? Being free of tyranny again? I mean I guess you could throw another party if you want, you're the queen."
Even better, did they just go back to their normal routine??? Instead Poppy hugs him even more than usual and holds his hand and keeps bringing up ideas for activities, picnics, having lunch together and whatnot and Branch would be so super happy but a little confused and he'd be like "This is all great, but what's going on with you?" And she'd be like "Aren't we dating???" And he'd go "WHAT"
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Secret Lovers
Simon "Ghost" Riley X F!Reader
Simon wasn’t someone who very willingly opened up to anyone, his teammates were no exception either, save for Price. It was always better to keep things quiet and let people assume what they pleased instead of trying to answer their questions. Better to remain mysterious than show your cards to the wrong person. a/n:this was originally started because of a snippet @thebeesatemyknees had written, thank you so much for letting me turn this into a full fic! I hope I was able to do it proper justice warnings:none, just tons of fluff Part 2
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Simon wasn’t someone who very willingly opened up to anyone, his teammates were no exception either, save for Price. It was always better to keep things quiet and let people assume what they pleased instead of trying to answer their questions. Better to remain mysterious than show your cards to the wrong person. Johnny had badgered him from day one if he had a partner, going on and on about how much he loved his girlfriend. SImon wasn’t going to tell him anything, no matter what he’d keep his lips sealed.
Kyle was the next one to ask, though it was more in passing rather than a true and genuine question when he cornered the older man. They had been discussing mission details when the topic arose, did he have a next of kin? And if so, who would be the one to inform them if Ghost were to be KIA’d? He never asked Simon after that day, instead going on to different topics whether they had to do with the mission or what they wanted to eat. Kyle treated him like a friend, it was nice.
And John, well he knew all about Simon’s personal and very private life.
~~~
You were a new addition to the team, a medic that could stitch up a wound within a minute and get you back on the field within five. They were thankful to have you come around with them, helping stitch up a wound on Johnny’s arm, or cleaning up a gash on Kyle’s head. The only person who seemed to be a little wary around you was Simon, which both Johnny and Kyle felt odd. You fit in their group like the puzzle piece that was missing, and yet Simon acted as if he wanted nothing to do with you. Surely he’d warm up to you a little more, they were all sure of it.
“Thank you all for meeting me on such short notice. We’ve got word that an arms dealer is hosting a gala and we need to get more intel before we can swoop in.” Kate was a woman who took no shit and left no prisoners, she wasn’t going to risk this.
“Who do we want to send?” John was nervous, his men were trained for this, but putting them into a situation where they’d have to become someone else entirely? Nerve wracking.
“I was discussing it with Shepherd last night, and we’ve decided that Simon and Y/N will be going on this mission while the rest of you stake out the building.” All eyes suddenly shifted to Simon who looked calm as ever.
He’d forgone the mask for this mission briefing, knowing that only his teammates and Kate would be in the room with him. Knowing that you were going to be there made things a little more tense, could he handle something that dire?
“If you think that’s what’s best, I fully support the decision.” John wasn’t going to argue, Simon could be suave and charm the pants off of anyone if needed.
“Thank you, we’ll be heading out tomorrow and meeting up at the hotel. Promise me you’ll behave so no one suspects you, please.” Kate knew how much of a troublemaker that Johnny and Kyle could be, given the opportunity of course.
“I’ll make sure of it myself if need be, don’t you worry.” John smiled up at her, leaving Kate to wonder how much trouble there would be.
They would need to debrief you on the plane ride over, given that you weren’t even in the room with everyone. Having something like that just dumped on you with no time to prepare was the worst, how could they manage? Simon would just have John give you the rundown so he could worry about more important things, like how he’d have to act like the two of you were so desperately in love.
You would have an entire day to get comfortable in the hotel room, there would be a few people lingering so you’d get used to being stared at. Simon knew they’d mainly be staring at you, you were downright gorgeous. And with the clothes that had been picked out? A deep navy blue tux, with a pitch black button up and black silk tie. It perfectly matched the dress they’d picked out for you, a deep V down the front that left just enough to the imagination. The color matched his tux almost identically, the only difference was your dress was silk. 
“They’ve packed everything for you to do your own hair and makeup, we don’t want you to stand out too much, better to blend in.” It was the smartest idea, if you or Simon were to attract too much attention things would end badly.
“Yeah, Kate told me as much as she could, I made sure to pack my best heels.” You were nervous, it’d been so long since you’d been able to go out to something fancy.
“Are you sure you can handle this?” John knew you were smart and quick witted, but something about this mission unnerved him.
“I’m positive, Simon and I will get the intel and get out before anyone even notices we’re missing.” You were confident everything would go smoothly, Simon could be silent if needed.
John nodded at you, settling back into his seat as the plan began to descend down onto the tarmac below. Simon was staring at you from across the way, palms sweating slightly as the time drew closer to getting inside the hotel. Johnny was going to see how nervous he was and make comments, he was sure of it. The sound of tires squealing brought everyone’s attention to high alert. It was time to grab your things and head to the cars, you were driving over with Simon, leaving the other three to their own car.
It was mainly to not raise any suspicion, if you were seen driving with any man that wasn’t your husband word would spread before you managed to make it to the party. You were absentmindedly playing with your ring, twirling the obnoxiously large diamond with your other fingers. It was a habit you picked up whenever you tended to wear jewelry, though it was much better than picking at your cuticles.
“You feeling alright hun?” Simon glanced over at you, though his own nerves were shot, he wanted you to feel comfortable.
“A little nervous, but that’s to be expected considering the circumstances.” You kept twirling the ring, glancing between Simon and the road ahead of you.
Simon took a quick breath and grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together without skipping a beat or taking his eyes off the road. You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, you had been waiting to see how long it took before he finally felt comfortable around you. You’d need to practice around everyone else if you were going to look natural around a bunch of strangers. Everything was going to be just fine, you were sure of it.
John had set up everything in the hotel room, along with hanging up your dress and Simon’s tux to help steam out any wrinkles if needed. So far there was nothing to worry about, save for Soap acting like a little shit and pranking Simon and Kyle for the most part. You’d all settled in, changing into comfortable clothes and ordering food so that you wouldn’t have to leave. Simon was cleaning up the kitchen so he could sit down and enjoy dinner with you.
“Do you need any help?” You walked over to him, pressing your hand against his lower back.
“Nah, just need to finish cleaning this plate and we can eat.” Simon smiled at you, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.
“Whatever you say.” You patted his back gently, heading over to the small kitchen table.
Johnny raised a brow at how you and Simon seemed to naturally work with one another, he didn’t want to raise any suspicion. Kyle on the other hand was ignoring him entirely, digging into his own meal and scrolling through his phone. Simon had finally finished, grabbing his plate of food and heading over to sit with you. He could faintly hear that you were both discussing the mission and going over your alias’ one last time.
“Simon, you need to wear your ring.” You’d gotten on his case the entire day, he kept taking it off complaining that it felt weird to wear it.
“I’ll wear it during the mission tomorrow.” Simon brough the fork to his mouth, focusing on his plate rather than your raised brow.
“You say that now, but when we end up leaving you’re going to forget it and then we’re going to have to drive all the way back because you won’t wear your ring.” You had put yours on right away, mainly because you were forgetful and didn’t want to end up forgetting it.
“Are you really going to make me wear the ring all night?” Simon’s expression would normally terrify a recruit, but you’d gotten used to it.
“If I want to make sure you have your ring on? Yes, I’m going to make you wear your ring until we get back on that plane and go back home.” You’d glue it on if need be, but Simon knew better than to disobey orders.
John chuckled to himself watching the two of you, it was a dynamic he hadn’t seen in quite a while and it was pretty funny to witness. Johnny on the other hand was now even more flabbergasted at the way you worked together. Why did you seem so comfortable arguing with a man who’d killed for less? This was something sinister and it unnerved him to no end, he’d get to the bottom of this.
You’d offered to clean up everyone’s dinner dishes, carefully cleaning any knives before laying them on a towel to be dried by Simon. He walked over to where you were, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull your bodies flush together. Johnny’s jaw dropped open as he slapped Kyle’s arm to get his attention. The playful bickering was one thing, but watching Simon the Ghost Riley be so affectionate? 
“Damn, he’s a good actor.” Kyle watched the way you and Simon began to sway gently, giggling at something he’d whispered into your ear.
“Scarily good, didn’t think he had it in ‘em.” Johnny shook his head, turning back towards the computer in front of him.
It wasn’t until the sound of someone kissing caught their attention once more. Simon had dipped you, lips pressed against yours as his arms wrapped around your waist. Johnny’s jaw dropped wide open, well if you weren’t together already that was surely going to change. You pressed your hands against Simon’s chest, laughing happily as you stared up at him.
“Cap, do ya think Lt and the medic are gonna get together after all this?” Johnny had high hopes, no one gets kissed the way Simon kissed you and simply part ways.
“What’re you talking about?” John barely lifted his gaze from the screen, typing up the pre mission notes to help catch up on them before.
“Simon’s practically tonguing the medic! He’s gonna woo her.” He waggled his brows at the older man, cackling when John rolled his eyes.
“Oh, yeah that’s not gonna happen.” John’s attention focused back on the task at hand.
Johnny’s laughing abruptly halted, what the hell had he meant that Simon wasn’t going to woo the medic, it was obvious! Clearly John had no idea what he was talking about, Johnny could see the little twinkle in your eye from across the room.
“Gaz, am I wrong or do ye think Ghost and medic are gonna end up together?” He was determined to get someone to agree with him.
“Oh, if they don’t I’m asking for her number for him.” Kyle may have had a slight crush on you, not that he’d ever admit it.
John sat upright in his chair, focusing on Johnny and Kyle who thought they were being more subtle than they actually were.
“Have you ever looked at their name tag by chance?” John wanted to see if the other two would finally catch on.
Both Johnny and Kyle shook their heads, neither of them had a reason to over analyze your name tag when they had injuries to be taken care of. He sighed softly to himself before glancing over to you and Simon. You were laughing at some bad joke Simon had whispered to you, a bright smile on his face.
“Her last name is Riley.” John watched as realization dawned on their faces.
You’d been married this entire time and no one, besides Price, was none the wiser. How the hell had you managed to keep it hidden from everyone? Then again Simon wasn’t the most overly friendly or affectionate when it came to anyone. You were his wife though, that was different! Surely you could bring out a different side of him, something that no one usually got to…of course.
“Would’ve been nice to know at least.” Johnny shrugged off his disappointment, this was a big thing to keep hidden away.
“It wasn’t my place to tell, just remember that.” John wanted to respect your privacy, it was the least he could do considering your line of work.
Johnny and Kyle understood why Price hadn’t admitted to questions about your relationship, but knowing the truth? It felt good. They watched the way you and Simon danced to the music playing from your phone. Simon’s arms were wrapped around your waist, pressing kisses all over your face as you tried to squirm away. It was a side of their teammate they’d never thought to see, and no one outside of this hotel room would ever get to see it.
At least, not until after the mission of course.
tagging: @gaylemonshark
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