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erwinsvow · 2 days

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what if… rafe ever hit shy reader from built up anger like more of an accident? we lowk need some rafe and shy reader angst😢

this kind of slayed me.. i feel like disclosure i do not condone abuse of any sort i just think shy reader would like getting slapped around and being really roughhoused..

but if rafe reallyyy got mad about it, it might be angsty. like if she really messed up and was apologizing a ton if he actually was mad at her her heart would stop. warning rafe is rlly mean in this

being a little whiney, a little too needy and maybe excessively touchy came easily to you as rafe's girlfriend. he was always coaxing you into being more comfortable with him, and you think you'd finally reached that point.

some of your shyer tendencies seemed to have finally abandoned you when it was just the two of you. and just like you had guessed, a smaller, more possessive side of you had recently emerged from the cocoon—wanting all of rafe's attention, all the time.

it wasn't good, maybe a small part of you knew that, but it was easy to play into it, and you liked how you felt these days, more comfortable in your skin and around rafe than you had been even just a month ago.

like today. you had been a little needy all day, not wanting rafe to leave when he said he needed to go to barry's for picking something up.

"ple-ease rafe," you said it a little singsongy, serious but not that serious. "don't go. i want you to stay." it was more just wanting to hang out with him than anything else—when he left, he was usually gone for ages, and things weren't that fun without him.

"i'll be back, kid. jus' stay here, got it?"

"but you said you would-"

"kid." the way he says it, you should have realized he wasn't in the mood for you to be behaving like this.

"yesterday you said you were free all day. and i get bored-"

"yesterday i didn't know i was doin' this shit. just, please. sit tight. i'll be back."

rafe goes, and though a part of you knows you shouldn't, you blow up his phone throughout the day. really, you're not even that bored—showering and getting ready for the day and then curling up with your book after you make rafe's bed, but you played a little too far into it.

when he comes back, you should have realized something was off—but you let everything else cloud your judgement. the way rafe is never mean to you (despite the stories you had heard), how he always reassures you that he's not mad and that you didn't do anything wrong. you were led to a false belief that nothing you could do would change how rafe acts towards you.

rafe comes to sit on the bed near your feet, and you lower your book to look at him, but don't say anything. when he turns to look at you, you bring the book back up so it looks like you weren't peeking.

"c'mon. y'mad now?"

"no."

"kid, i don't have time for this-"

"you didn't answer any of my texts! or calls. and i've just been waiting here all day-" you don't know what you want—attention, quality time, an apology. you just want something other than what you're getting.

"i told you i'd be back. had shit to take care of-"

"well, i just-"

"why're you actin' like this? huh?"

you think rafe's gonna ask you the things he always does—what's wrong? did someone say something? do i need go have a talk with 'em?

but he doesn't this time.

"spoiled your ass too much and now you wanna talk back? is that it?" you're so taken aback, you think all the air has left your lungs. did rafe really think that? he stands up, so you do too, facing rafe while he paces.

"no, i just-" you're being defensive, like always. you feel like crying—you thought rafe knew you better than that, but it's also not his fault. maybe you were acting too spoiled after all, and maybe despite what he always says, he preferred you how you were when you first started dating him.

"you think m'goin out there to paint nails and gossip with barry? we had shit to do. real shit, so i can take care of you. i thought you understood that."

when you start crying, you think rafe will stop—he always does, stopping to apologize and make sure you're okay.

"tears. great. i'm tryna explain this to you. are you gonna cry everytime i get serious? huh?" it comes out a little more like a bark than a sentence—now you're scared.

"i-i'm sorry," you get out, though it's strangled in a sob and sounds more like a whisper. you don't think he heard you, but your feelings are so hurt—the rush from thinking rafe would be happy to be back home with you crashing and burning quickly, the pit in your stomach that doesn't blame him—but rather blames yourself for your behavior.

you had gotten too comfortable, too pampered, thinking that acting like this was okay—briefly you think it's not rafe's fault at all for getting mad, that it's your own fault for this happening.

you think it's best if you leave, dejectedly heading towards the door, but the second he catches you trying to walk away, he rushes over, pushing you against the door before you can even open it. your back thuds against the frame.

"rafe, you're hurting me-" you cry out, but he seems to be lost in his own anger. "please-"

"didn't say you can leave. what the hell are you doin'? you tryin' to make me mad? huh?"

"rafe, m'sorry, i-"

"actin' like this 'cause you wanna get slapped around? is that it? y'like that too much, don't you? you want me to slap you around now?"

your heart feels like it's just stopped beating. the very idea that rafe would bring up something you had just gotten comfortable with liking, only recently convinced yourself—with his help—that it wasn't wrong or dirty to like those kinds of things with him—slapping and spanking and a whole host of other things you had never even talked about, much less actually done, with anyone other than rafe, in this situation, made fat tears slip down your cheeks.

your boyfriend didn't seem like himself right now. and you were so distraught, if you were a little more clear-headed you might realize his bloodshot, dilated eyes and shaky hands. your arm hurts from where he's holding you tightly.

"rafe, please-" you get out through tears, and he lets you go a little. you slide out of his grip and stay against the door, still crying. before you can even think about it, your cheek is stinging.

he does slap you—not in the light, playful way he does when it's just the two of you somewhere or in the slightly rougher manner reserved for bed—this one is harder, everything hurting.

after it happens, you look up at rafe through glassy eyes. your fingers go to your cheek, pressing down where it was painful, like it would help it go away. but you knew deep down nothing could ever erase this memory.

you look up at rafe and he looks down at you. when you try to turn to open the door, he presses down and slams it shut before you can get out.

#this was hard to write :(#but i hope i did your prompt justice #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #shy reader #tw abuse #tw dv

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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hysteria-things · 2 days

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Can you do headcannons about toxic but gentle on&off!matt? 😁 (its okay if not!!) Also thank you to the anon who put this thought in my head because I am eating it up and cannot stop thinking about it 😜

ON & OFF MATT HEADCANNONS

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: there is a SFW and NSFW section!

SFW!

the two of you were never a healthy relationship. there was always something you guys would be arguing about.

he is the PETTIEST man when you guys break up for the… you lost track.

president of the sassy man apocalypse, and he always says you’re the problem. (it’s 9 times out of 10 his fault)

your friends BEG you not to go back to him, but you give them the ‘he said he was sorry!’

there was this one time where you ended things on a worse note than usual, and it hit matt hard. despite being able to drive he ran to your house in the rain later that night to apologize with tears in his eyes.

sturniolo tok is so used to it that their comments are low-key hilarious and you guys like to read them together.

user: who wants to bet they’ll be broken up by the end of the week?

user: i think they’re just doing it for fun now😒

user: what happened between yesterday and today didn’t y’all hate each other😭

rarely, there are times where you guys fight and make up for once!

NSFW!

MAKE UP SEX >>>

definitely bent you over the counter or his desk a few times amid an argument just to shut you up.

the longest you guys broke up for was two months, this being where it was “officially over.” because of that, you hooked up with another guy since you were a free woman. the same guy purposely went up to matt and bragged about how he was fucking “his girl…” later that night you were getting fucked stupid on matt’s dick while he said the filthiest things to you.

“fucking slut. you like to walk around and let random guys fuck you? huh?”

“whores like you don’t get away with things that easy, sweetheart.”

“look at that, so fucked dumb that all you can do is scream and cum on my cock. how about we show your new friend, yeah?”

even if you’re not in the wrong, he’ll have his hand wrapped around your throat like a necklace while pounding you in missionary until you say you’re sorry.

this man will have you seeing stars with your eyes rolled so far back that they might stay there. break-up sex is no joke.

“i fucking… ha-ate you.”

“do you, now?”

“matt— sh-shit— yes.”

“good.”

don’t get it twisted, he’s heavy on the aftercare. he’s not that much of an asshole.

he’ll get you anything you need, and when you guys are comfy in bed he’ll massage your thighs for hours; whispering sweet nothings to you as if he didn’t just fuck your brains out.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

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diettwistup · 2 days

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HALF OF YOU

PAIRINGS: tashi duncan x f!oc, art donaldson x f!oc, patrick zweig x f!oc

SUMMARY: No matter how bright Tashi Duncan shined, her best friend, Milan Mikaelson, wasn’t far behind. Though seeming second best, Milan would never let that define her career. Holding as much fame as Tashi, Milan encountered Patrick Zweig and Art Donaldson. Would this encounter change the trajectory of her life, and would it completely alter her relationship with Tashi Duncan?

WARNINGS: challengers spoilers, reader is milan mikaelson, sexual situations, language, angst, plot alterations.

WC: 5.1K

NOTES: hiiii!!! hope y’all enjoy this next chapter cuz it’s not my fave thing ever LOL. was also too lazy to proofread so sorry if there's errors. i’m also gonna be going on vacation with no internet for a little over a week so next update will be after that! thanks for reading luv u 💋

READ BEFORE THIS: INTRO and ONE

CHAPTER 2: DOUBLE TROUBLE

CHALLENGERS TOURNAMENT, NEW ROCHELLE - 2019, 1:00 PM

Gnawing on my bottom lip, I gripped my dress as Tashi got up and cursed before walking off, disappointed with Art’s performance.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going.” I shot and grabbed her wrist, eyeing her up as I took my sunglasses off.

Shaking my grasp off of her, she bent down and spoke dangerously close to my face.

“If he’s not gonna play tennis, then I don’t wanna see shit.” She seethed and walked off, brushing off her dress with each stride.

As I watched her go, I could feel a pair of eyes on me. Darting my attention back to the match, Art was already looking my way.

Shooting him a sad expression, I put my sunglasses back on, huffed, and sat back in my seat.

All he did was shake his head and rub the sweat off his face while Patrick smirked proudly.

He sure seems to love this.

Sighing, I raised one hand to my mouth to bite my nails, the nerves of the match taking over my entire being.

At the next serve, I carefully watched the strategic movements behind the boy’s every motion. They have always been outstanding players, and I furrowed my brows as I thought back to the first time I saw them play against each other.

The stupidity of Tashi and I, dumb enough to pin two best friends against each other. We should have never stepped foot in that godforsaken hotel room.

Shaking my head, I closed my eyes. The crowd's roar echoed around me as I thought back to the night that started it all.

The night that ruined it all.

THE BOY’S HOTEL- 2006, 12:00 AM

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!” I exclaimed to Tashi as we made our way to the boy's hotel room. “Why the fuck would you let them come down when you knew I was there?” I shot at her as I smacked her arm.

Tashi smacked me right back, making me let out a hiss and shoot a cold glare at her.

“I don’t know why you're acting like you don’t have a game. You’re the best at playing hard to get.” Tashi responded and shrugged as if it was as simple as adding two plus two.

“You’re a bitch.” I muttered and rolled my eyes as the hotel came into view. “What do you even plan on doing with these two.” I raised my brow at her and studied her expression to gauge what was going through her mind.

“What we usually do,” she responded, smiling at me. Hypnotize them with our charm and have a good time, of course,” She said proudly as if this was second nature for us.

I won’t say that Tash and I haven’t had our fair share of fun with boys, but something like this, with two boys who knew their way around the game themselves, was certainly daunting.

“Fine, but you should have heard how they talked about us at your match. It was disgusting.” I pretended to gag and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Perfect, we already have them locked in then.” She nudged my arm before leading the way to the room.

Rolling my eyes, I smacked her again before following behind her.

On the way to the room, I got lost in my thoughts. How did we get ourselves into such a situation? I hope Tashi doesn’t expect us to have a foursome of any sort because I don’t have the patience to deal with a whole ordeal like that.

Approaching the door, Tashi stopped to let me walk ahead of her.

“Perfect, Mila, you can see your ass poking out of your shorts.” She smirked and gently patted it until I swatted at her hand with a laugh.

“Fuck off, let’s go,” I scolded, waiting for her to catch up, as she knew which room to go to.

Once we reached the door, Tashi knocked and softly bit her lip. Scuffling was immediately heard behind the door, signifying that the boys were startled by our appearance.

I moved to press my ear to the door with a slight smirk which Tashi returned as she did the same.

“They’re crazy…” I whispered to Tashi, to which she responded with a nod and a soft hum.

When we removed our ears from the door, it swung open so quickly I couldn’t make out the motion.

The boys stood at the door, looking extremely disheveled. Patrick wore boxers and an unbuttoned linen shirt that looked like it had been shoved in his tennis bag and forgotten. Also wearing boxers, Art wore a beater t-shirt that looked like it had never been in the wash and dryer a day in his life. Both of their hair was ruffled and unkempt, making it look like they had just gotten out of bed.

Raising an eyebrow, I was the first to speak. “What, did you two just get done fucking?” I questioned as I looked between them and placed my hands on my hips.

Patrick just burst out into laughter while Art spoke up.

“No…fuck no…” He muttered with a laugh as he patted Patrick on the back.

Drunk as sailors.

I nodded at this before resting my eyes and glancing at Tashi, who smiled fondly at the two, but I knew she was plotting.

“So, hi,” Tashi spoke calmly with a smile that immediately brought the boys back to Earth as they moved aside to let us in the room.

I had to stop myself from covering my nose as we entered the room.

Reeks of beer and cigarettes…typical boys.

Two beds pushed together were messily made. Beer cans, cigarette buds, and clothes were everywhere, though it looked like someone had tried to tidy up a bit.

That explains all the noise.

Patrick mindlessly spoke to Tashi as I continued to scan the room, not noticing that Art was eyeing me up. Turning my head, I caught his stare, which didn’t make him falter. He only continued to stare before coming up to me and handing me a beer.

“Didn’t know you were gonna come.” He spoke as he looked down at me through lidded eyes. Tipsy eyes. And, of course, he had a smirk, but it spoke I’m glad you came, really.

I continued to study his expression as I let my guard down a pinch. I shrugged nonchalantly as I took a long swig of the beer, knowing I would need it to get through the night.

“Had nothing else to do. Figured why not.” I spoke calmly as I let my eyes rake over his entire figure, drinking up his messy look which he really really pulled off. Never would I ever admit that for him to hear.

Or me.

“Well, glad you’re here.” Art said as he took the beer can from my lips and sipped it while he stared into my eyes, flickering to my lips for a moment.

I kept my eyes trained on his as I refused to back down in this staredown, showing that I couldn’t be swayed that quickly just because he was extremely attractive.

“You two, come sit,” Patrick spoke up from the ground by the bed where he sat with Tashi.

Nodding at this, I waited for Art to take his eyes off mine before I made any movement to sit. After a few seconds, he nodded and placed a hand on my lower back to walk me to where everyone was sitting.

I shivered slightly at this as I softly bit my bottom lip, hiding this motion from him, but I knew Tashi saw it by her smug little smile that said I told you so.

We haven’t even done anything, and I suddenly feel like I’m in the trenches.

The next couple minutes were used to discuss how Patrick and Art met each other and how Patrick, predictable enough, taught Art how to masturbate, all while we all took sips from the beer can that Art had given me when we first got here.

“Y’all are weird as fuck.” I snorted, a bit tipsy, wiping my mouth from my last gulp as I looked between the two boys who had red cheeks from a mix of alcohol and embarrassment, and can’t forget, two big smirks.

“No, Mila. I think it's a cute story.” Tashi nodded with a smile in an attempt to reassure the boys jokingly—a tactic she used to fully reel them in.

I rolled my eyes at this and fake glared at Tashi. “Only if you’re fucked in the head!” I laughed again while the rest of them laughed with me.

“Don’t tell me you two haven’t done anything weird like that,” Patrick said, making me whip my head to him before glancing back at Tashi.

“Yeah, you two have known each other since the womb. There’s no way you haven’t done nothing.” Art added and took a long swig of the beer can before passing it to Patrick, eyes trained on me for longer than I would have liked.

I shook my head with a small laugh before looking back to Tashi, who gave me an eyebrow in return, signaling something.

You ready?

…

I’m ready.

We nodded at each other before standing up and looking down at the boys.

“You guys aren’t leaving-“ Patrick started but stopped when he saw the two of us moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

My eyes locked with both of them briefly as I flashed the most innocent smile I could muster.

Here we go.

“Patrick, come sit by me…” Tashi spoke and patted the space to her left.

You didn’t have to tell him twice. He sprung up so fast he spilled the beer can everywhere on the carpet, but he couldn’t give a fuck.

As he sat down next to Tashi, my eyes locked onto Art’s. I did not need any words to tell him to sit by me.

He took the hint immediately, got up almost as fast as his best friend, and sat beside me, thigh already touching mine.

I turned to face him with lidded eyes and a small smile. I could hear his breath hitch as Adam’s apple bobbed, signifying that he took a small gulp. I softened my eyes to let him know it was okay to relax and that he could be comfortable around me.

Even though Tashi wanted to play with these boys like putty, I felt a little different about the situation.

As I tilted my head at Art slowly, I saw his face contort into a grin that radiated his comfort and need.

Leaning in slightly, I placed my hand on Art’s chest, noting how firm it felt through his thin shirt. Art mirrored my leaning in but instead placed a hand on my thigh. As I neared his lips, I teasingly pulled away as I felt Tashi pat my back. I smirked slightly at this and turned around as my lips met hers instead of Art’s.

It was an innocent kiss, a tactic to get these boys right where we wanted them. This action certainly answered their questions about us, and I hope it was worthwhile.

Once again, I could feel Art’s eyes piercing the back of my head, so I moved my hair off my shoulder and tapped the side of my neck so he would know what to do.

Almost immediately, his lips were latched onto my neck. I wondered for a moment if he was a vampire because of the way he was sucking on my neck. I figured he was searching for a blood vessel. Poor baby must have been deprived of any female touch, but the way his lips sucked profusely on my pulse point, I could tell this wasn’t his first rodeo.

Tashi and I pulled away from our innocent kiss and shot each other small smirks when we noticed that Patrick and Art were too lost in our necks to give a damn.

I tapped Art’s thigh so he would know to stop, which he reluctantly did. His lips were a bit swollen, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off them. Biting my lip, I reached up and brushed a finger across his bottom lip. As I did this, Art grabbed my hand and studied it before gently kissing my finger where my nail had broken. My eyes widened at this as my heart threatened to beat out of my chest.

Keep. your. composure.

Shaking out of my daze at his action, I smiled softly once again and leaned in slowly to connect our lips, hands on the back of his neck, threatening to tangle in his blonde curls.

Pillows. His lips feel like pillows.

The kiss was soft until his hand moved from my thigh to my waist. He pushed forward a bit until my back fully hit Tashi and tried to part my lips by biting my bottom one, but I pulled away before he could get that far.

Too easy.

Licking my lips to taste him, I turned back to Tashi, who placed her hand on my cheek to kiss me lightly again. As her lips melded with mine, I gingerly placed a hand on the base of Art’s jaw and slowly pulled him towards Tashi and me’s kiss. Immediately, I could feel Art’s lips meld with Tashi's, mine, and then Patrick’s, knowing that Tashi had done the same with him.

Now, the four of us were all kissing, making me slightly clench my thighs. Only slightly.

After about five seconds, I felt Tashi tap my back to signal me to pull away slowly.

As we both pulled away, Art and Patrick were full-on making out, not noticing that the two of us had abandoned the kiss. I glanced at Tashi with a smirk as she watched them in satisfaction.

It took everything in me not to giggle as I watched the two continue to eat each other's faces fervently.

Specifically Art.

After a beat, Tashi spoke up.

“Okay.” She said, which made the boys freeze and pull away from each other.

Immediately, they both looked at us in shock.

Got ‘em.

I tilted my head at Art as I gently reached my hand out to trace shapes on his thigh while he looked down at me like I had three heads.

“That was cute…” I mouthed to him with a soft smile as he continued to eye me up in shock mixed with a bit of awe.

“Well, we should get going before our parents freak out and wonder where we are,” Tashi says. I sit up as I follow suit, cutting any tension in the room.

Standing up from the bed, I chuckled to myself as I brushed off my clothes and fixed my hair. “It’s been fun,” I said, aiming my comment at Art. Thank you for having us,” I finished with a small, innocent smile as Tashi and I left.

“Wait!” Patrick said which stopped us in our tracks.

Turning around, Tashi and I shared matching grins that we quickly hid when we faced the boys.

Art spoke up next as he looked right at me. “What about your numbers?” He asked as he stared at me like a puppy deprived of dinner.

I crossed my arms and shrugged. “If you win tomorrow, I’ll give you my number,” I said plainly, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

“And I’ll give you my number if you win tomorrow,” Tashi said to Patrick just as plainly as I did.

Both boys shot each other smirks before nodding in agreement.

Tashi and I said our goodbyes before leaving the hotel room. When we were out of earshot, we both started laughing.

“We have them wrapped around our pretty little fingers!” Tashi exclaimed as she wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

I laughed at this and wrapped an arm around her waist. “I really hope Art wins,” I said in a dreamy tone of voice as I thought back to his face, lips, chest, everything, really.

Tashi shook me back and forth with a smile as she exclaimed, “I’m just ready to watch some good fucking tennis!” She laughed, knowing that the two boys were really going to battle it out with this new prize put into motion.

STANFORD UNIVERSITY - 2007 5:00 PM

As I slowly trudged from the tennis court to the dining hall, I felt my arms giving out.

“Fuck this damn bag,” I whined and went to a nearby bench to take a breather and bask in the California sun.

Today’s practice was by far the worst of the semester. I worked with my coach on my serve to prepare for my upcoming match, where I would face an opponent ranked decently high in the state.

Closing my eyes and throwing my head back to catch the rays of the warm sun, I let out a groan. I probably looked like a corpse to every passerby, but just like Tashi, they knew me, so hopefully, they would just smile and wave.

“Rough practice?” An extremely familiar and captivating voice snapped me back to reality.

Opening my eyes, I was met with my favorite pair of light blue eyes—something he would never know. Of course, a smirk adorned his features, and his blonde curls were tucked into a backward red cap, most certainly saying “Stanford” on the flip side.

“Art…” I spoke almost breathlessly as I sat up, brushed a piece of hair out of my face, and used my other hand to block the sun that Art’s head almost blocked.

“Hey, can I sit?” he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets, and nodded to where my bag was on the bench.

Quickly moving it to sit in front of my feet, I patted the empty seat next to me. “Sure.” I smiled at him and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

Over the summer, I would never allow myself to be so forward with Art Donaldson. I couldn’t speak for my present self, though. Since Patrick won the match, he and Tashi started dating after he scored her number. I, of course, was too upset to act like I didn’t give a damn about not being able to give Art my number. Tashi insisted that to keep their passion and drive for tennis alive, I keep up my end of the deal and don’t give Art my number. Hesitantly, I agreed as I knew how easily a stimulus like that can create great results. Since the match, Art and I have never spoken except for the occasional hello when passing by each other on the tennis court or dining hall. This moment was the first time I could speak with him since everything, and since I may have developed a slight…crush.

“So,” He started and turned his body on the bench to face me fully. “How have you been?” He tilted his head and tapped the back of the bench while studying my face.

Inhaling a sharp breath, I turned my body to face him fully, bringing one leg up and letting the other drape off the side of the bench.

“Do you want an honest answer?” I chuckled softly as I moved my hands to remove my hair from its braids.

In turn, Art laughed gently while smirking at me. His stare narrowed as he studied my face, acting like I was an old friend he had known for years.

“Well, if the honest answer is terrible and cruel, then I’m not so sure.” He responded and immediately matched my energy.

Damn you, Donaldson.

“Hey.” I softly laughed as I moved my dangling leg to kick his gently while I finished taking my hair out.

I wondered for a beat how I wanted to summarize months of memories, feelings, and experiences into one sentence, and this made me sigh.

“It’s been rough. Majoring in biology and the grueling tennis schedule makes me wanna rip my hair out.” I spoke in a low tone as I ironically and subconsciously began to play with a strand of my hair.

“I feel smothered.” I finished and silently cursed myself for acting so vulnerable.

That was three sentences, Milan. Not one.

As I stared at Art almost helplessly, his eyes softened.

“I feel the same way, trust me.” He chuckled softly before removing his hat and running a hand through his hair. “It really sucks, but it’s gonna be worth it,” He ended his thought before putting his hat back on.

“Fuck, and I thought I was the only one. Quite naive of me.” I laughed before looking back up at the sun. “It’s whatever, though. You’re right, and everything will come into place and be worth it.” I continued as I looked anywhere but at Art’s piercing stare.

Silence. He didn’t respond. He didn’t laugh. He did nothing except stare. Stare in a heavy silence that brought me back to the night in that damn hotel room.

After a few beats, I returned to my senses, slowly stood up from the bench, and brushed my skirt off.

“Well, I didn’t mean to stay here for long, so I’m gonna head off.” I went to pick up my bag as I spoke disappointedly.

I couldn’t allow myself to fall into the trenches. I needed to focus on my studies and tennis. Hard work makes everything worthwhile, and a boy isn’t part of that everything right now.

“Wait, Milan,” Art spoke up and grabbed my wrist, his grip as firm as it would be if he held his racket.

This made me freeze in my tracks. What the hell did he think he was doing?

My eyes slowly met Art’s as I parted my lips to speak, but nothing came out, so he spoke for me.

“It’s been months, Milan,” he started, his grip on my wrist still firm, his eyes scanning my face for any hints of discomfort.

“I know we only really talked with each other that one night and had no time to get to know each other, but I would like to get to know you better.” He didn’t falter. Not once. I don’t even think he blinked.

My lips had gone dry, and my voice, for some reason, grew hoarse.

“Art…” I slowly began as I looked down at his hand, gripping my wrists. “The four of us had a deal…” I made sure to tread lightly with a severe tone.

Two feet and ten toes on the ground. Don’t falter. Don’t give in.

“They’re a happy fucking couple, Milan. I doubt they give two shits.” He stated matter-of-factly as I felt his thumb rub up and down on my wrist.

How naive.

Biting my lip in thought, I began an internal battle with myself. I wanted this so bad. And I could tell Art wanted it just as bad as I did—possibly more.

I deserve a win other than tennis.

Sighing, I removed my arm from his grasp and moved to my tennis bag to look for a piece of paper. Instead, I found a piece of muscle tape and a small pencil. Quickly scribbling down my number, I could feel Art trying to see what I was doing.

“Here,” I said with slightly red cheeks as I stood back up and handed him the piece of muscle tape. “Don’t go blowing up my phone now,” I playfully scolded before picking up my bag and walking past him, glancing at the triumphant smile playing on his perfect features.

Perfect? …yeah.

Before I began my trek to the dining hall, I touched Art’s shoulder and whispered in his ear.

“I didn’t want to admit it, but I really wanna get to know you more, too.”

NEXT DAY, STANFORD DORMS 11:00 AM

MEET ME IN THE DINING HALL FOR LUNCH?

My eyes stared at the text in utter disbelief. Art certainly didn’t take any time once he got what he’d been craving all summer.

“Why do you look so shocked?” Tashi laughed from the foot of my bed as she hit my leg.

Fuck.

My eyes looked to her as I shut my phone, put it next to me, and picked my computer back up to pretend to look at my study guide for an upcoming biology quiz.

“My mom sent me a weird text,” I laughed awkwardly before covering my face with my computer.

“Are you fucking with me?” Tashi laughed as I heard her moving up towards my side of the bed.

She shut my computer to look at my face, which was for sure red as a tomato.

“You’re lying,” she smirked before sitting on her knees and clapping her hands. What is it? A boy? A girl?” She persisted as she grabbed my leg and widely smiled at me.

I rolled my eyes at this before clicking my tongue. “Why are you so dead set on the fact that I was texting someone romantically?” I crossed my arms and bit the inside of my cheek, probably a dead giveaway.

Tashi’s face fell as her brows furrowed, and she crossed her arms, mimicking me.

“You’re joking, right?” She started before studying my stern expression. “We’ve known each other for what, eighteen fucking years?” She used this as a tactic to crack me. “I know your every expression and what it means. I could write a thesaurus on you if I wanted to.” She stated as she sucked on her teeth, brows still furrowed.

I stared at her sternly for a few beats before sighing and turning my head to look anywhere but at her.

“Fine, you got me…” I trailed before uncrossing my arms to fumble with my fingers. “but this is the first time I’ve received a text, so it’s not important.” I put my hands up and looked at her as an explanation as to why she shouldn’t ask questions.

I should know better.

Tashi’s annoyed face instantly turned into a happy one as she bounced on the bed and continuously hit my leg.

“Who is the lucky guy? or girl…” She tilted her head with a goofy smile, which she would only show me.

“It’s a boy…” I sighed before turning my head to look at my closest, as it suddenly looked very interesting.

No matter how long I had known Tashi, I couldn’t gauge how she would react to this. She’s a very pushy person who likes everything to go her way, but I’m hoping that since it’s me, she will react differently.

She shrieked and shook my legs back and forth with a giggle.

She’ll be so disappointed.

“Who is it? Is it that cute boy I caught you practicing with the other week? Or that one boy that you sometimes study with from your Chemistry class? Or maybe it's that random guy from the baseball team I saw you talking within the dining hall last week?” She fired off in a millisecond as I stared at her in utter disbelief.

“Okay, first of all, how did you know about all of those? And second of all, the first guy is gay, the second guy has a girlfriend, and the last one was giving my pencil back to me after using it for a quiz we took in statistics.” I responded as I rolled my eyes so hard I thought the whites of them would turn permanent.

“I’m your best friend. I know everything.” She spoke eerily with wide eyes before breaking into a smirk. “So, come on! Tell me who it is!” She bounced repeatedly on the bed and shook me back and forth until I finally had enough.

“Fine!” I exclaimed and threw my hands up in the air.

Fuck it.

“It was Art, alright.” I threw my hands up as I bit the bullet and came clean.

Tashi’s face dropped almost instantly as his name fell off my lips. She wasn’t happy. Not at all.

“What the fuck do you mean?” She laughed in disbelief as she shook her head and moved her hands from my legs.

I immediately sat up more and moved towards her.

“I saw him after practice yesterday, and we got to talk,” I explained as I bit the inside of my cheek in anticipation. “He asked for my number, and I figured since everything happened months ago, there would be no issue…” I trailed off and looked her straight in the eyes with a pleading expression.

Tashi just stared at me and shook her head slowly.

“We had a deal with them…” She stared at me with an accusatory face.

“Tash, I know,” I exclaimed and grabbed her hands. “But you knew I liked him more than what happened in that hotel room. Plus, you and Patrick are happy, so why should it matter?” I asked and shook my head as I gripped her hands.

She stared at me as if I kicked her puppy and gasped in her throat. “Um, to keep their passion alive? To ensure they both strive for better and strengthen their relationship with tennis?” She spoke as if it was plain as day.

Furrowing my brows, I slowly shook my head and parted my lips, shocked.

“Is tennis all you care about?”

I shouldn’t have said that.

My words echoed in my mind as I retracted my hands from Tashi’s and bit my lip, feeling defeated. Her stare pierced into my soul as she looked away from me and placed her hands on her thighs.

“If this is what you want, go ahead. I can’t and won’t stop you.” She spoke slowly before eyeing me.

Fuck, I messed up.

“But never think for a second that I care about tennis more than you.” She choked out as she looked at the picture of us in fifth grade sitting on my bedside table.

At this, my eyes widened, and I nodded slowly as a single tear slid down my cheek. Moving towards Tashi, I wrapped my arms around her waist and hugged her.

“Pinky promise?” I whispered into her neck while she returned the hug.

“Pinky promise.” She responded and grabbed my hand to interlock our pinkies.

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joeshiestyslover · 2 days

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i miss you, i’m sorry- m. sturniolo

pairing: situationship!matt sturniolo x reader

summary: both you and matt have been miserable for the last week. matt (with the help of nick), realizes he made a mistake and is desperate to win you back.

warnings: language, angst, fluff, nick is a g

masterlist

lowercase intended

a/n: part two of i know it won’t work is finally here!! enjoy 🫶

empty. that’s how you’ve been feeling for the past week. you’ve lost all the motivation you once had. you can barely even get out of bed to take a shower or eat. you feel like complete shit.

you know that ending things with matt was the right thing to do, but why does it feel so wrong? matt has been texting and calling for the past few days, but you haven’t responded, knowing you have to stay strong and not run back to him.

the moment you met matt, you truly believed he was the one. you began to imagine the rest of your life with him, not being able to fathom him not being in it. you never thought, even in your wildest dreams, your relationship with matt would have ended the way it did. you love matt, more than anything in the world, but you can’t put yourself in that position again. matt doesn’t love you the way you love him, and you have to find a way to live with that.

you’re watching modern family in your bedroom when your phone rings next to you. you pick up the phone and see that it’s nick. you don’t want to let what happened with matt affect your relationship with chris and nick, but it’s so hard when they constantly remind you of him. nevertheless, you answer the call with a “hello?” “y/n! hey how are you doing?” nick was always the triplet you were closest with, even while you were with matt. he always checked up on you. “i’m fine.” you answer, but he doesn’t believe it. “you don’t have to lie to me babe. how are you really?” you can feel your eyes start to water. “i’m not okay nick.” you sniffle. “why doesn’t matt want me? i was so sure he did.” you can almost hear nick frown over the phone. “he’s a fucking idiot, y/n. he’s too dumb to see what’s right in front of him. what happened wasn’t your fault i promise.” he assures you. “i just really wanted it to work out.” you wipe your eyes to get rid of the tears, but they continue to fall. “i know hon, but you’ll be okay. you’re the strongest person i know. you’ll get through this.” you nod even though he can’t see you. “yeah you’re right.” “i always am.” you laugh a little at nick’s words. “if you ever need anything, you know you can call me right?” he asks. “yeah i know. thank you nick. for everything.” you respond. “of course y/n. i’ll call you later. i love you.” “i love you too nick.” you say before hanging up.

nick set his phone down on the couch before standing up and walking into matt’s room. he opens the door to see matt lying in bed, just staring at his phone. nick walks towards him and he can see matt looking at pictures of you and him. “matt.” nick begins. matt’s head shoots up before quickly shutting off his phone. “jesus can you knock?” matt snaps at him. “you’re such a dumbass, you know that right?” nick tells him. “what the hell is that supposed to mean?” matt questions. “i can’t believe you were the one that let her go, yet here you are sulking. you have no right to be sad. you fucked everything up with y/n!” nick began to raise his voice. matt doesn’t say anything and just looks down at his lap. “matt? hello? are you listening to me?” nick snaps his fingers to get his attention. “you don’t think i know that i fucked up?!” matt stands up from his bed. “i regret letting her walk out! i regret telling her that i didn’t want to be with her! i regret everything i said to her that day because none of it was true! i love her nick!” matt yells. nick just stands there, shocked at his confession. matt then sighs and sits back down, holding his head in his hands. “i miss her so much, man.” nick walks over and sits down next to him. “then go tell her that. don’t let her go until you let her know how you really feel because that girl is heartbroken because she thinks you don’t love her back.” matt looks up at him. “but what if she doesn’t want me back?” nick stares at matt with sympathy in his eyes. “trust me she will, and even if she doesn’t, at least you’ll know.” matt nods. “you’re right. i’m gonna go over there.” he stands up to change his clothes and grab his keys.

matt walks out the door and into his car. before matt goes to your apartment, he stops at the grocery store to get you your favorite flowers and candy. he pulls into your apartment complex and grabs the flowers and candy before running towards your apartment. once he arrives at your doorstep, he take a deep, shaky breath and knocks.

you’re in your kitchen making something to eat when you hear a knock at your door. you raise an eyebrow before walking over to open it. once you do, you see matt standing in front of you, holding your favorite flowers and candy. you immediately freeze, unsure of what to do or say. “y/n,” matt begins, “can i come in?” you stand to the side, letting matt inside. “umm these are for you.” he hands you the flowers and candy, and you walk over to your kitchen to set them on the counter. “what are you doing here, matt?” you ask in a somewhat cold tone. “i want to apologize for everything i said. i promise i meant none of it.” you just stare at him, saying nothing. “look, i know you probably don’t believe me. i wouldn’t either, but i do mean it when i say i really do want you. i was just scared. relationships honestly terrify me, and i guess i didn’t want to get hurt.” you sigh. “so you chose to hurt me instead?” “y/n, i promise that wasn’t my intention. you put me on the spot and i panicked. i know that we should have talked about it, but i decided to be an asshole and i am so, so sorry baby. i regret every cruel word that i said to you. just please-let me make this right.” matt begs. you think for a few seconds, still unsure if he actually means what he’s saying. “i don’t know matt. what you said hurt me. you hurt me. i trusted you and you threw that away. how can i be sure that you mean what you say? how can i trust you again?” you want to believe him so bad, but you can’t give into him just yet. “i promise i’m gonna do better. i’m gonna treat you the way you deserve. i’ll work every day to be the perfect boyfriend for you because i love you.” your eyes widen in shock. “you what?” you question him, thinking you heard him wrong. matt takes a step towards you. “i love you y/n. i love you so much it hurts. every time i look at you, i feel something i’ve never felt for anyone before.” he puts his hand on your cheeks, “i only want you, now and for the rest of my life. please, please give me this chance.” when he looks into your eyes, you can’t help but melt into his touch. your face softens. “oh matt,” you place your hands on his wrists, “i love you too.” he grins at your words. “really?” you roll your eyes playfully. “of course i do you fucking idiot.” you smile at him. “i’m just making sure because i-” he’s cut off by you pressing your lips against his. matt’s caught off guard, but melts into the kiss. his hands travel down to your waist and squeeze your hips lightly.

you pull away from the kiss and press your forehead against his. you let out a sigh of content. “what is it baby?” matt asks you. you smile and shake your head lightly, “i’m just happy.” he smiles as well before bringing his forehead away from yours. “y/n,” he begins, and you give him a look, silently telling him to go on, “can i be your boyfriend?” he asks, somewhat nervously. you grin, “yes matt you can be my boyfriend.” you look at him with love and affection in your eyes. matt lets out a breath, “okay good because that would have been really embarrassing if you said no.” “shut up.” you tell him before leaning up and kissing him once again, both of you smiling into the kiss.

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pallisia · 2 days

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Hey gg. I've always loved making up stories and drawing and thanks to you and the works you've recommended, I learned that being sincere in telling stories is one of the most crucial parts. I still get nervous when I show my stuff to others, though. Does that ever get any better? How have you dealt with harsh criticisms (whether you thought they were justified or not)? In any case, thank you so much for Soulsov and everything that came before it! You're a huge inspiration!

i don't think that gets any better. even for someone who has always enjoyed recognition like me, showing sincere work to others is a daunting thing. sincerity is what makes it worthwhile, but vulnerability is inherently scary. you kind of just have to do it.

as for criticism, i've heard everything from "your pacing sucks" to "your work is morally reprehensible." the latter flavor has brought me pretty low, but i've since had the realization that people will just log on and say whatever. you can't dismiss every single criticism as coming from an idiot, but the reality is that 19-year-olds who haven't had breakfast are just typing shit with no filter every day because it's easy. in four years, they're going to look back and think "what the hell was wrong with me" and hope you've forgotten it. that's my experience, anyway.

i go to peers who i trust for meaningful critique and try to keep an open mind otherwise. maybe that part gets a little easier with some perspective. anyway, thank you for your kind words and good luck with your stories.

#txt

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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seeingivy · 14 hours

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3:45 am

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

an: I can't find the request, but someone asked for a sukuna version of the 3:45 am chapter of roommate eren! here it is <3

“why do you have such a shit face?”

you look up from your computer to find sukuna lingering by the door – fidgeting with the buttons of his collar and the end of his tie – as he spares you an irritated glance. it’s one that you return right back, before hunching back over the table and focusing back in on the lab report you were writing.

“i’m talking to you.”

sukuna shuffles over to your side, before crouching down till your faces are side by side, the breaths coming out of his nose tickling the bare skin on your shoulder.

“i have such a shit face because i looked at you.” you mumble.

sukuna sucks in a breath, almost like he’s trying hard to conceal his laughter, before he leans closer, leaning his chin on your collarbone. the proximity makes it hard to ignore the sweet smell of his shampoo, which only gets worse when it’s accompanied by the sharp scent of his cologne.

“is that any way…to repay my kindness?” sukuna questions.

you roll your eyes, lightly jolting your shoulder up to get him to stop leaning on you. and he takes the hint just as much, as he draws up the chair at your side and pulls closer to see the molecules that you’re constructing on your computer.

“you know, when you said you were going to do this favor for me, i wasn’t exactly expecting that you were going to hold it over my head this way.”

ryomen sukuna was just an acquaintance – who happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time – and then he wasn’t.

it’s because he has a moral compass. or because really, he feels guilty for not telling you earlier – especially when he’s seen other friends of his in the same position as you. so when he found you down on your luck – getting cheated on by your boyfriend, who you lived with, by your best friend of all people – he offered you the extra room that he had in his apartment.

i’m lots of things, but i’m not a sadist. that’s what he said when you snuck out in the middle of the night, all of your things packed into a box that you subsequently emptied out into the free room that he offered. he had hell to pay from your ex-boyfriend the next day, the two of them jostling it out on the basketball court, before they both got reprimanded by the coach and decided to keep their distance

sukuna isn’t a bad roommate. he isn’t exactly a good roommate per say either. because the sweet kindness that he offered you wore off around the second day and you realized that really – he was one of the most irritating people that’s every walked the surface of this earth.

he brought over girls – tons of them. and when you asked him to keep it down, just so you could get some assignments done or study for an exam, he’d make it a point to bring multiple girls over – just to see the irritated expression on your face.

he’d make up for it of course. because what he lacked in face-forward politeness, he made up for with his quiet gestures. like making you breakfast the morning of said exam – set with a matcha latte that he learned how to make special for you, because you don’t like the taste of coffee. or whenever he found you crying, he’d always let you rant it out – but not without giving you a few insults about how you had no standards here and there.

“i think it’s dumb as fuck that you aren’t going tonight.” sukuna says.

you slam the enter key on your computer.

“your opinion has been noted.” you respond.

“then come.” he grates.

athletes at the university get to attend a formal at the end of each semester. it’s a nice dinner, accompanied with a horrible DJ, and a weird mix of sentimental speeches.

really, it was actually your idea of fun. only because it always felt nice to go to events like this. it was one of the few excuses you had to use the pretty dresses that you had in your closet, actually blow out your hair to make it look nice, and use the pretty glitters that your sister had given you for your birthday last year.

and even more than that, it always felt nice to be shown off. because you’d meet tons of people who had heard all about you – the coach, the athletic trainers – who’d all give you sweet comments about how you were far too good for your boyfriend, who would then make some silly comment about how he never knew how he got you to talk to him in the first place.

sukuna offered to accompany you. and also promised that he’d sneak some kind of contraband in so that the two of you could actually have fun – but it was something you denied. you denied most of the offers that he made that were similar to this, even though he was quite persistent, only because you knew that it wasn’t the right time.

for better lack of words, you felt like a kicked dog. and you needed time to recover – before you could see your old best friends, or your ex-boyfriend, or really anyone outside the three circle rotation of people that you were able to tolerate.

“i won’t have fun. and i don’t want to be a downer on the one night that’s supposed to be for you.” you respond.

“well, you’re always a downer. so it won’t exactly make a difference.” sukuna responds.

“thanks. that really makes me feel better, sukuna.”

“i live to serve.” he responds, before bracing his hands against the table and pushing off.

he spares you one last glance before stopping at the mirror near door, toussling with his hair and the piercings hanging from his ears. it’s a passing thought that you immediately banish – that panging in your chest at the thought of sukuna enjoying the night with a lanky girl on his arm.

“you know, if you stare for any longer, you’re going to fall in.” you respond.

“hilarious.” he deadpans.

“who are you going with? i’ll have to make a phone call and let her know that she’s just going to have to find her own ride.”

“no one.”

you feign shock, pressing one of your hands to your chest – and really, trying to hide the secret delight that you’re reveling in.

“wow. did hell freeze over?”

“just didn’t feel like it. this type of shit is always kind of boring.” sukuna responds.

you shrug.

“i don’t know. i always thought it was kind of fun.”

sukuna turns around, sparing you one last glance.

“you know, i do recall that you would stand in the corner and talk to the moms all night. that sounds like my personal nightmare.”

you smile.

“well, that’s just because the moms don’t really like you. i however get along with them quite well.”

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“i’m sure that’s true. i’ll see you, okay? don’t sleep too late.”

you give him a sly look.

“worried about me?”

“no, you just look ugly with eye bags.”

you do not take sukuna’s advice. instead, you finish up your lab report and open a bottle of pink wine – to accompany you in your endeavors to watch ten things i hate about you.

and it goes considerably well – until you hear a slamming pounding on your door at 3:45 am. you reach for the closest jacket, one of sukuna’s hoodies, before pulling it over your shorts and peeking out of the peephole.

you swing the door open.

“right. hi.”

you pause.

“megumi, right?”

“yeah. just bringing sukuna back. he’s plastered.”

you look down to where he’s gesturing to find sukuna slumped against the wall, offering you a half hearted smile from his bloodied nose.

“right. well, thanks for bringing him back. what happened to his face?”

“same as last time.”

you roll your eyes, as megumi drags sukuna up by the arms. he stumbles in the air, leaning his weight against you, as you shoot megumi one last smile before slamming the door shut.

the sweet smell of his shampoo and cologne is gone all together – now replaced with the mix of metallic blood, sweat, and the faintest smell of beer.

“sit down, sukuna. i’m going to clean you up.” you mumble, trying to stabilize him in the air to stand by himself.

“y/n?” he asks, before stumbling in the air.

you reach forward, trying to brace his fall as he looks down at you – suddenly somewhat awake as his face breaks out into a small smile. he reaches forward, bringing one of his bloodied knuckles to cup the side of your face.

“y/n.” he whispers.

you swallow the block in your throat in your stomach.

“don’t try to sweet talk me. i’m mad at you.” you respond, dragging him towards the center before leaning him against the kitchen counter.

you reach down to the bottom of the sink, setting a glass of water aside and pulling out the little box of first aid that you had put together once you got here and put it at his side. you open up the neatly organized compartments, pulling out the gauze and the alcohol wipes, before turning back to him.

“don’t be mad, princess.” he mumbles.

you feel your cheeks burn.

“don’t call me that.”

“isn’t that what you are? my little brat?”

you scoff.

“are you trying to insult me?” you ask, reaching for his left hand first and swiping the area clean.

“you have no…no idea what i think about you.”

you reach for the wrappings, tucking them in against the callousness of his hands, as he looks down, locking his fingers in with yours. and then he leans forward, snaking one of his hands around your neck.

you quickly shuffle yourself out of his embrace, before lightly pushing him back. he seems to take the cue, before you lean forward again, slightly hesitant this time, as you wipe the area around his nose.

“why’d you fight with him this time?”

sukuna scrunches his face up – irritated at the mention of the past few hours.

“nothing he didn’t fucking deserve.”

“right. last time, he missed a three pointer and you socked him in the face. so let me guess, he was two hours late today and you just got carried away?”

sukuna scoffs.

“he was running his mouth.”

your curiosity has piqued.

“about?”

“you.” sukuna slurs.

you smile.

“so glad to see you had sound judgment tonight, sukuna.” you respond, voice dripping with sarcasm.

sukuna leans forward, his lips a little too dangerously close as he rests his hands at the sides of your waist.

“he brought that stupid bitch with him.”

“sukuna.” you warn.

“he brought. that stupid bitch with him. and he had the nerve to stand there and talk shit about you.” sukuna responds.

you reach for the glass and place it in his hands, offering him a smile.

“just drink the water to sober up a little bit. it’s late.”

sukuna gives you a glare, as you let go of the glass, only for him to spill the entirety of it on you with his shaky hands. he barely registers that he did it – and you suppose that it’s really your fault for trusting him to hold the glass on his own – as you swing your arm around his torso and lead him towards his room.

he flops onto the bed as you rummage through his drawers, pulling out a pair of pants and shirt for him as you turn back around.

“sukuna. get up and change and you can sleep all you want.” you coax.

he responds with an unintelligible noise – further muffled by the fact that he’s face down on the bed – as you reach for one of his arms and pull. he somewhat works with you, sitting up as he wobbles, and reaches for the tie around his neck and tosses it aside.

his first struggle comes with the buttons. because he can’t seem to coordinate his fingers well enough to push the buttons through the holes – and obviously, with the short temper he has, gives up in all but three seconds.

“help.”

you roll your eyes as he stands up, leaning against you as you reach forward, and slowly unbutton down the length of the shirt.

“you drive me crazy, you know that?” sukuna whispers.

you ignore the comment as you pull the shirt down the length of his arms – exposing the tattoos that you’ve always wondered about, that peek out of the sleeves of his shirt or neck. you hand him the shirt, which he tosses aside.

“too hot.”

“okay, well. just put the pants on and then i’ll leave. i’ll turn around.” you respond.

you turn around, twisting the rings on your fingers as you wait for him to finish, only to me met what could possibly be your worst nightmare.

“y/n. wait, fuck. you have to help.” he whines.

you turn around to look at him, only to find that he’s still wearing his pants.

“what?”

“the button. i can’t…”

you feel your throat dry.

“sukuna. i can’t…take your pants off for you. just try harder.”

“just fucking help me.”

you shake off the nervousness, as you bend down on your knees, trying to squint through the dark light to find the button. except before you can fully do it, sukuna reaches for your biceps and somewhat harshly pulls you up.

“wh-”

you look up to find him swallowing hard, before he talks.

“it’s like you’re trying to make this difficult for me. don’t get on your fucking knees to do it.” sukuna responds.

“how else am i supposed to see it?”

sukuna doesn’t respond, as you shake your head and feel down the length of his pants, before you find the button. and surely enough, it’s hard to push but you get it after a second try, and turn around as sukuna switches the pants he’s wearing.

and you almost make your sweet escape before he tangles his fingers around your wrist and pulls back. his fingers are fast on your waist as he turns you around, somewhat toppling your balance so you’re leaning against his chest – and stuck in his embrace.

“stay.” he whispers.

“you are so fucking drunk, sukuna.”

“stay, please. i don’t want to sleep without you.”

you shake your head.

“my hoodie is wet. i have to change.”

sukuna shakes his head.

“are you wearing anything underneath? you know i wouldn’t mind either way.” sukuna whispers.

“a tank top, but really. i have to go back to –”

sukuna’s fingers are fast – since he apparently has enough coordination to help you with this – as he pulls it over your head, before setting his hands back around your waist. the way he’s looking down at you, eyes wide, makes you shiver as he leans forward, and presses his fingers against your collarbone.

“you have a tattoo.” sukuna whispers.

you laugh.

“so do you.”

and it makes your skin shiver, when sukuna snakes his hands underneath your shirt, leaning forward to press his lips against the inked skin on your shoulder, unable to contain your surprise. the tufts of his hair tickle your neck as you lean back, placing your hands on the sides of his face.

“you’re drunk.”

sukuna pauses.

“is that the only reason you’re saying no?”

you shake your head.

“go to bed. you don’t even know what you’re fuckking saying right now.”

“just stay with me.”

sukuna releases his grasp, instead reaching for both of your hands and squeezing at your fingers.

“please. don’t leave me alone.”

“okay, okay. let’s just go sleep. we’ll talk in the morning.”

you wake up to the most haunting sight known to man – sukuna hovering over you.

“jesus fuck.”

sukuna laughs as you press your palms into the sockets of your eyes, pushing as hard as can as you very quickly remember the events of last night – of the shivering feeling of sukuna’s lips on your neck and the horribly embarrassing moan you let out when he did.

“oh god.”

you open your eyes to find sukuna still hovering – an almost too excited grin painted on his face – his silver necklace hanging in the air.

“give me permission this time.” sukuna states.

you widen your eyes.

“i beg your pardon?”

sukuna snakes one of his fingers under your waist, using the other to trace the outline of your tattoo again, as he leans closer to you, the distance dangerously close considering the events of last night.

“give me permission.” sukuna asks.

“you…”

sukuna rolls his eyes, before leaning forward and pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“if it wasn’t clear, i think about you very often. irritatingly enough, i’m actually very fond of you. so much so, that i turned down that fucking barista from the coffee shop last night and went to that fucking party by myself..”

“marie?”

“is that her name?” sukuna asks.

you bite down on your cheek.

“i also gave someone a beating for you and got suspended from playing for two weeks, so just give me fucking permission now.”

“you got what?”

sukuna leans down, resting his chin against your bicep, as he eyes you again, before pressing a kiss to the skin.

“give me permission.”

“you’ve already kissed me twice.”

sukuna shakes his head.

“cmon. i need to hear it.”

you shake your head, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that your heart is pounding in your chest as you look down at him, brown eyes peering into yours

“um. okay? ….yes. or yeah, whatever, i –”

all you hear is an excited chuckle before his lips are against yours, hands almost rough around your neck as he pulls you up, till your straddling him in his lap, hands secured around his neck. and you can tell that he’s enjoying himself far too much – from the way he smiles into the kiss, before pressing three, four, and five kisses to your cheek.

you fight the urge to smile at him fully as you lean forward, cupping his face in your hands and eyeing the cut across the bridge of his nose.

“have i repaid your kindness yet?” you murmur.

sukuna pauses, before leaning in.

“no, i think i need a little bit more.”

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angelsdean · 2 days

Text

Also, since I'm divorce arc posting today, what if i said Dean wasn't wrong to say this:

CASTIEL The plan changed, Dean. Something went wrong. You know this. Something always goes wrong. DEAN Yeah, why does that something always seem to be you?

LIKE !!!!! Sure it was harsh and if emotions weren't heightened already and Dean wasn't still dealing with the very recent death of his mother and that grief (anger being a stage of grief!) and ALL the Chuck shit on top of that AND his own complicated feelings re: Jack's death (bc Dean was Not going to kill him, despite Chuck trying to manipulate him into doing that) he probably wouldn't have said that to Cas but like?? he's not really wrong.

You can easily trace a lot of the major season conflicts as a long line of dominoes starting with Cas's s6 betrayal. Leviathans. Purgatory. The tablets. Angels falling. Lucifer getting out of the cage via Cas possession. Etc etc. And most of the time Cas was doing things from a place of good intentions in his POV. Trying to fix things or spare others the burden of doing the hard thing. But still, these plans often backfire for Cas. Going it alone, not letting Dean (+ Sam) in on his plans, it usually does not end well !!!! They are TEAM Free Will for a reason. The show (and Dean) continuously emphasizes the importance of team and family and not going it alone. So, while what Dean says to Cas in this scene is definitely a harsh pill to swallow and not something I think Dean would say to Cas in normal circumstances, he technically isn't wrong. And that's what makes it such a heart-breaking scene.

And even more-so, he's saying this but he still, at his core doesn't want Cas to leave. ("Of course I wanted you to stay.") At the moment he needs space and time to process his grief re: Mary, and all the other stuff going on, but he still wants Cas there and ultimately wants to fix things. ("I'd rather have you." "We can fix this." "I was there where were you." etc etc)

But to fix things they need to address his huge persistent, recurring issue between them: not communicating effectively and Cas continuously leaving, going rogue, and/or deciding for them when to involve Dean.

Dean wants to work together, as a team. Dean wants to be involved. Dean wants Cas to not just up and disappear and "deal with things" on his own like he always does. Cas, in his own POV, sees his actions as perhaps a form of care. He's protecting! He's taking on the hardships! Also, his hubris, wanting to be the strong protector type. Wanting to be a warrior. Powerful. Securing "wins." And these desires stem from his years as a soldier of Heaven, of equating worth with Results. Not something Dean has put on him or required of him.

But Dean doesn't see Cas's actions the way Cas perceives them. We as the omniscient audience know more about Cas's motivations than Dean does too. Dean often just sees Cas leaving, prioritizing the mission and shutting Dean out. However, I do think it's important to note that Dean is also usually willing to give Cas the benefit of the doubt, defend him, and forgives easily / implicitly.

They both care deeply about each other and don't maliciously mean to press on each other's specific insecurities and traumas but like, Dean is abandonment issues boy. And Cas keeps leaving. Or ignoring his calls when their daily lives are a constant life or death battle because they are literally living in a horror show! Dean is not unreasonable to be worried when he doesn't hear from Cas for days, weeks, months on end. He's not being "clingy" or "demanding." Expecting some base form of communication from the people you care about is normal in any relationship. Cas refusing to communicate in these moments IS a problem between them.

So, when Dean says, "Yeah, why does that something always seem to be you?" re: Cas being the "problem" it's harsh yes! But it's pushing them toward addressing this recurring issue (Cas going rogue often = plans backfiring) and the root of that issue which is Cas continuing to leave to do things on his own, change the game-plan without running it by anyone, and keeping others out. This moment is a breaking point. Because Dean, under normal circumstances, is generally one to defend, forgive, and move past Cas's mistakes. Cas himself says it in this very scene: "You used to trust me, give me the benefit of the doubt."

But at this point something needs to give, they need an explosive moment to just bring all these issues to light. It's a rupture.

Yes, Dean might "still blame [Cas] for Mary" but Cas also knows deeply, as he expresses to Jack, that Dean needs time and space to process his emotions. That he feels things more acutely and intensely but that ultimately he usually comes to a place of acceptance / forgiveness / is able to move on.

That's what Dean wants and needs in this moment. He needs space to deal with his feelings and his grief (clearly in the anger stage of it). And he also wants to finally address these issues! But Cas is also struggling himself and in his own mind he's feeding old insecurities. He let Belphegor get under his skin. He thinks he's not needed or wanted anymore. So, he does what he tends to do. Leave.

CASTIEL Well, I don't think there's anything left to say. [Castiel makes to leave.] DEAN Where you going?

Cas decides to leave and Dean immediately asks where are you going? Because even now, feeling how he does, he doesn't want Cas to leave.

What Dean wants is to have a confrontation. He wants to get to the root of their issues. He asks Cas why didn't he just stick to the plan. And emphasizes the concept of WE, of being a team. "We would've figured it out....after. With Rowena." He wants them to stick together, work together. But he's struggling. He's grieving. And still, he wants Cas to stay, of course I wanted you to stay.

And I say it all here in this post but the whole "I left but you didn't stop me" is just, Cas really? From Dean's POV he sees Cas's leaving as a choice Cas makes. He respects his choice and doesn't ask him to stay because he also does not feel he deserves to ask people to stay for him. He is always putting his own wants and desires second to those of others. He thinks, if Cas wants to leave, who is he to stop him?

Anyways, I think too much of divorce arc puts blame on Dean or makes Dean out to be "the bad guy" and "the reason" Cas leaves and the one who needs to "grovel" and apologize / be forgiven. But Cas is not blameless. Cas leaves because Cas leaves. Cas leaves because he chooses to and because he does not want to confront the realities of the situation or his own role in their issues. And after Cas leaves he continues to bury his head in the sand and be avoidant (thee core issue!) while also going out and working a solo case in an effort to secure a "win" and prove to himself that he's still capable of getting things right and not always failing.

And all of this, the complexity, the layers, Cas's stubbornness and flaws, is deeply delicious to me. Cas is not a blameless innocent little baby who got his feelings hurt by "big meanie Dean" in this situation. He is someone who heard a hard truth from someone he cares about and made the choice to leave instead of confronting the issue. And throughout it all, they both still deeply care about each other. It's evident in everything they do. And they want to work it out, but are both at different places and struggling with their own feelings too.

#vic.txt #divorce arc #mymeta #abandonment issues #communication issues #of course i wanted you to stay #cas in the wind #dean and grief #spn 15x03 #s15

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