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#Part two will be up in the future hopefully
konoa-t · 10 months
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I was doodling Reuben again and it turned into this little doodle “comic”.
Part one maybe perhaps
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deadtime-stories · 1 year
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#'hold your breath and hold on tight‚ hunker down‚ try not to cry'#'tell the critters that you love‚ that you love them‚ that's enough'#'cause there's no stopping what's to come‚ some shit's just etched into the stars‚ calamities you can't outrun'#it's been a difficult six months or so after being presented with some inevitable future losses‚ you kind of just disengage with everything#then try to stay distracted with busywork and things that don't take much focus. It's infuriating when something's happening and you#can't do anything to help or change the outcome or fix it. It's just there and happening and you have to watch and do nothing even knowing#where it's potentially going. And the worst part is‚ it can look like it's getting better and things can look promising‚ and in a span of#days it's all downhill. And I did not expect one of my stupid little distractions to punch me in the face with my reality‚ but here we are.#Our roof is finally fixed though‚ so there's that. It rained for two days and the rain stayed outside instead of coming in. It's been a#good number of years since that was the case. I learned how to make a custard pie last month. The spiral ham I like is on a good sale and#I'm getting one for Christmas. I gave in and spent $150 on UGG men's boots because the ones I had to buy to be in a wedding party five#years ago impressed me but were women's boots. They're super warm. I found a Christmas card that was the leg lamp from A Christmas Story to#send to a friend. Someone gave my housemate Wawa gift cards and now we're fully stocked on free egg nog. A rep at work brought me a little#holiday bag at work with a 'champagne' bottle of french vanilla hot chocolate mix and some nice candy. There's a squirrel who's gotten#spoiled by getting peanuts and now he hangs outside my second-story window on the tree and barks at me to demand more. Rent is going down#in my city of choice and hopefully things go well to move out of this city by the end of next year. Humans are going back to the moon. The#Webb Telescope has been showing us things at the edge of the galaxy I never thought I'd see. Otters and bats and owls and cats exist.#Humans have achieved net positive nuclear fusion...we made a star in a bottle. It's too early to be up right now on a Saturday.
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bunches-of-lilacs · 5 months
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gonna make 2024 my year, trust and believe
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reasonsforhope · 5 months
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It’s an open secret in fashion. Unsold inventory goes to the incinerator; excess handbags are slashed so they can’t be resold; perfectly usable products are sent to the landfill to avoid discounts and flash sales. The European Union wants to put an end to these unsustainable practices. On Monday, [December 4, 2023], it banned the destruction of unsold textiles and footwear.
“It is time to end the model of ‘take, make, dispose’ that is so harmful to our planet, our health and our economy,” MEP Alessandra Moretti said in a statement. “Banning the destruction of unsold textiles and footwear will contribute to a shift in the way fast fashion manufacturers produce their goods.”
This comes as part of a broader push to tighten sustainable fashion legislation, with new policies around ecodesign, greenwashing and textile waste phasing in over the next few years. The ban on destroying unsold goods will be among the longer lead times: large businesses have two years to comply, and SMEs have been granted up to six years. It’s not yet clear on whether the ban applies to companies headquartered in the EU, or any that operate there, as well as how this ban might impact regions outside of Europe.
For many, this is a welcome decision that indirectly tackles the controversial topics of overproduction and degrowth. Policymakers may not be directly telling brands to produce less, or placing limits on how many units they can make each year, but they are penalising those overproducing, which is a step in the right direction, says Eco-Age sustainability consultant Philippa Grogan. “This has been a dirty secret of the fashion industry for so long. The ban won’t end overproduction on its own, but hopefully it will compel brands to be better organised, more responsible and less greedy.”
Clarifications to come
There are some kinks to iron out, says Scott Lipinski, CEO of Fashion Council Germany and the European Fashion Alliance (EFA). The EFA is calling on the EU to clarify what it means by both “unsold goods” and “destruction”. Unsold goods, to the EFA, mean they are fit for consumption or sale (excluding counterfeits, samples or prototypes)...
The question of what happens to these unsold goods if they are not destroyed is yet to be answered. “Will they be shipped around the world? Will they be reused as deadstock or shredded and downcycled? Will outlet stores have an abundance of stock to sell?” asks Grogan.
Large companies will also have to disclose how many unsold consumer products they discard each year and why, a rule the EU is hoping will curb overproduction and destruction...
Could this shift supply chains?
For Dio Kurazawa, founder of sustainable fashion consultancy The Bear Scouts, this is an opportunity for brands to increase supply chain agility and wean themselves off the wholesale model so many rely on. “This is the time to get behind innovations like pre-order and on-demand manufacturing,” he says. “It’s a chance for brands to play with AI to understand the future of forecasting. Technology can help brands be more intentional with what they make, so they have less unsold goods in the first place.”
Grogan is equally optimistic about what this could mean for sustainable fashion in general. “It’s great to see that this is more ambitious than the EU’s original proposal and that it specifically calls out textiles. It demonstrates a willingness from policymakers to create a more robust system,” she says. “Banning the destruction of unsold goods might make brands rethink their production models and possibly better forecast their collections.”
One of the outstanding questions is over enforcement. Time and again, brands have used the lack of supply chain transparency in fashion as an excuse for bad behaviour. Part of the challenge with the EU’s new ban will be proving that brands are destroying unsold goods, not to mention how they’re doing it and to what extent, says Kurazawa. “Someone obviously knows what is happening and where, but will the EU?”"
-via British Vogue, December 7, 2023
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juanabaloo · 1 year
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🌻 If you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notifications, anonymously or not! Let's get to know the person behind the blog 🌻
I have been to Paris, at night. (And also during the day. It was a weeklong trip.)
2. My favorite Catholic school story is that during girls team basketball practice we would listen to "I want your sex" and "Faith." We joked to each other that the organ music during the start of "Faith" made it churchy and therefore OK. (It was definitely not OK for that Catholic school.)
3. I watched the 2004* Boston Red Sox beat the Yankees in Game 4 on TV. I am still in awe of Dave Roberts being able to steal second when every player there, every person at Fenway, and everyone watching on TV knew he was going to try. And he still did it! Go Sox!
*correction: for some reason I first typed 2020 instead of 2004. LOL.
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kzpearce · 1 year
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A LOST KID CALLED YOUR BOYFRIEND “ DADDY ” !!
ft. k. ayato, alhaitham, tartaglia, heizou, k. kazuha, scaramouche, tighnari, diluc, kaveh.
note. no pronouns mentioned (but quite focused with female reader. worry not, it's not obv tho hopefully). quite suggestive to childe and heizou.
your fav characs might be here in part two!
author's note. i posted this two or three days ago but i got shadow banned for some reason (maybe i had too tags?) i don't know how tumblr algorithm works because i'm quite new here ;( anyway i hope you enjoy this !! additional note; this was inspired from a specific event of tears of themis where this little girl was lost and called the four men their "daddy" !!
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— kamisato ayato.
“hi sweetie,” the child opened her arms as she ran towards your boyfriend with a huge smile on her face. ayato hefted her with a sweet smile on his face (you were frowning, but you couldn’t help your stomach explode with butterflies).
“everything makes sense when a ‘single’ man is so hardworking.” you rolled your eyes as you whispered sarcastically (ayato managed to hear you though).
“this is our baby,” he whispered to you with a wink, planting a quick kiss on your cheek.
“are you lost, baby girl?” ayato asked the little girl like he didn’t do anything that made your face turn into a tomato. 
your boyfriend can be a very great father to your future children one day. 
— alhaitham.
both of your eyes widened when you saw the little girl hugging your boyfriend with a smile on her lips. the little girl kissed your boyfriend’s cheek multiple times, she looked very happy to see her dad.
you bit your lower lip, preventing yourself from laughing too hard when you saw alhaitham’s priceless look. however, it was becoming a hard task to do, hence you covered your mouth with your hand. “i’m not informed, alhaitham.”
“i’m not a big fan of kids unless it’s ours,” he remarked. 
you laughed (ignoring the fact he might want to have kids with you), “help the child, haitham!”
— tartaglia.
ajax started hugging the little girl with love too. you rapidly blink at the sight, questioning if he was really the father of the child or someone close..? 
“not mine, baby.” he grinned as if he read the thought running in your mind. “the guardian or parents must be here somewhere.”
you and ajax didn’t really think nor talk about it until the child’s mother was found not too long after. your eyebrows furrowed to childe, waiting for him to answer the questions you wanted to hear. however, he just shrugged yet with a mischievous smirk curved on his lips.
“too bad. it would be hot if you were the one who called me daddy though.”
“archons, ajax!” 
— heizou.
“the kid must have had a traumatic experience, and it seemed like i looked like her father,” heizou thought thoroughly. 
“yeah, yeah, hot detective.” you rolled your eyes with a grin. “what if it was really your child?”
heizou shrugged. “you haven’t even felt how big my-”
“okay, shut up, you dirty ass gross.”
he laughed his ass off.
— kaedehara kazuha.
“who would’ve thought that you’ll have a child, kazu.” you blinked while watching him. the child gave kazuha quite a lot of affection. she must have been missing her father to be this clingy to kazuha.
“impossible. i’ve never been in love before, until you.” kazuha sighed. his eyes stare at the girl who had been resting in his embrace with a smile on her lips. he made sure she’s comfortable, thus kazuha was swaying her gently.
you watched them; the sight of kazuha taking care of a kid made you feel assured. you somehow saw a future with him.
“i’ve also never been jealous of a kid until now.” you rolled your eyes playfully while pouting.
kazuha chuckled, “my sweet dove, take it easy. you’ll be spoiled later with my affection.”
oh, he’s such a sweet angel.
— scaramouche (wanderer).
he rolled his eyes, exhaling through his nose after the kid ran to him with a smile on her face. you wanted to maintain your composure and tried not to laugh when he can’t disregard the poor girl off him.
“can she just get off me?” he whispered like praying to the gods.
“you’ll be a bad father for our future children, kuni.” you smirked.
“is this even our child?” scaramouche barked.
you shrugged, unable to wipe the grin off your face. “maybe?” you teased.
he glared at you. 
“i’m just joking. but treat her like our child.” you winked.
scara had decided to give up with a sigh. he lowered himself until he reached the child’s height. “here,” scara said, handing a candy to her. you could see the happiness in the little girl’s eyes. “we’ll find your brother soon, okay?”
no words can explain how hard you fell in love with him after you saw what you saw.
— tighnari.
“we... don’t have a child, right?” tighnari asked, confused. he carried the child in his arms nonetheless.
you shake your head, “maybe you do have with someone else?”
“i can’t do that to you, (y/n).” he slightly frowned.
you grinned, “let’s help her then,” you kissed tighnari’s cheek. 
“why not on the lips?” he questioned. “are you mad?”
“there’s a kid, tighnari.” 
“kiss me,” he whispered as he covered the little girl’s eyes with his hand.
you obliged with a smile on your lips, pressing your lips on his. 
— diluc. 
“you have a child?” you tilt your head in confusion. “so unlikely of you.”
“i would stop running the dawn winery first before i shoot my sperm in someone else’s womb.” 
your jaw dropped. ignoring his dirty mouth, you focused on his word someone else’s. “so there’s someone else?”
“no,” diluc shook his head, staring at you with a slight grin on his lips. 
“how would i know you’re telling the truth?” you asked, challenging him.
“it’s going to be your choice to believe me or not,” he shrugged. “but just so you know, i would pass the ownership of dawn winery later tonight if you want me to.”
you kissed him, “of course i believe you.”
— kaveh.
“let’s adopt her?” kaveh grinned after he hugged the lost girl.
“you fool, that’s someone else’s child. unless it’s really your child?” you playfully glared at him.
“it’s not mine, but we can make it ours.” he smiled.
“kaveh, she’s lost.” kaveh grabbed her little hand. “would you hold their hand for me too, sweet girl?”
your eyes widened at his request to the little girl. the little girl nodded and held your hand together with his. she was between you and kaveh, holding your hands with hers. the three of you looked like a family.
“are you hesitating now?” kaveh smirked.
i'm sorry if this is quite short to some! i'll still think if i should decided to make another part for the other characters or make a new one!
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sundrop-writes · 3 months
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Officially announcing my new series: Careful.
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A limited multi-chapter series with Spencer Reid and Fem Reader, featuring angst, smut, and the trope of exes to lovers where Spencer finds out that he is a father four years after you have given birth to his child.
'When you and Spencer broke up, he tried to forget about you. He pushed all of those feelings for you down - until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being hunted by a man who kills single mothers.'
The series will be approximately 40k long in total (spread across six chapters) and will be posted every Friday, starting on March 8th, 2024, and continuing until ending on April 12th, 2024.
THE FIRST CHAPTER IS NOW POSTED!!!
(I am making a posting schedule, and I am gonna try really, really hard to stick to it this time guys.)
The series is already finished in my drafts - it just needs to be edited before posting. However, comments and encouragement are highly appreciated and welcomed throughout this process. The fic will not have a taglist (taglists are not something I do) - if you enjoy the concept or the preview below and you want to know when future chapters are coming out, then you will simply have to follow me here and turn on notifications for this blog, or you can find me on AO3 and subscribe to me there to get emails when this series and it's future chapters are posted.
Below is a short preview of the fic - so if you want to get a better sense of what the fic is about, click through and read it, and hopefully, you will enjoy.
Preview Word Count: 1,800
Warnings: typical Criminal Minds episode warnings; mentions of murder/killing; the reader character is being targeted by a killer and doesn't know it yet; the reader has a young child (a four year old son); the reader is a cis woman who uses she/her pronouns and a has a vagina; emotional angst between Spencer and the reader; the reader and Spencer had a romantic relationship around season 1/season 2 and this is meant to take place around season 6(ish) but you can picture any later version of Spencer you want; the reason that the reader and Spencer broke up is purposefully vague here but it will be fully revealed in the full story; the reader purposefully kept the pregnancy/Spencer's child away from him; Spencer didn't know he had a child out there in the world; there is some smut in this - unprotected penetration (a flashback to how the baby got here); possibly something that could be labelled as a breeding kink; making love/intense passionate sex; I believe that's in for this short part.
...
The team found themselves buried in paper, looking through the preschool applications for anyone who fit the UnSub’s victimology - praying that they would be able to pick out the next victim and get to her before the UnSub did. 
“We’re never gonna get through these fast enough, are we?” Prentiss sighed, continuing to sift through the papers. 
“We just have to go as fast as we can, and hope the UnSub sticks to his schedule.” Morgan replied. “He has to spend time stalking them, learning their routine. Even if he has chosen his victim by now, he won’t break into the home until he’s fully confident that he won’t be disrupted.” 
“And the stalking helps build up the fantasy.” Reid added on. “He romanticizes them from afar, sends them gifts. It adds to his delusions of grandeur and forbidden love. The idea that he’s swooping in to become the perfect father figure for these ‘broken’ families.” 
“Plus, most of these applications are from two-parent households.” JJ pointed out. “We can throw out anything with a second applicant on the form, because he’s only targeting single mothers.” 
The conversation was easily drowned out for Spencer when he saw it. 
It should have been just another page among the sea in his hands, but when he saw those words on the page - that name - it was like a punch to the gut that brought back a flood of memories he thought that he had locked away forever. 
It was you. 
What the hell were you doing applying for preschools? 
Spencer rushed to tear this paper out from the others in the stack in order to read it more carefully. 
You had a son. 
… 
When you answered the knock on your door, you were entirely lost for words, your mouth going numb from shock when you saw him. 
The last thing you were expecting was to find Spencer Reid on your doorstep. 
Your heart raced inside your chest, your body so overwhelmed so quickly that you couldn’t even decide on an emotion. 
Happiness. Joy. Lust. Longing. Sadness. Relief. 
Shock. 
You lingered on shock for a while as you stared at him, your eyes locked on the sight of him - wondering what the hell he was doing standing on your porch. How did he know where you lived? Why was he here? 
“Y/N,” 
He said your name in that honey-sweet way, and it brought you rocketing back to that awful night all those years ago. Your stomach dropped, and you felt like you were standing in that apartment all over again, tears in your eyes as you faced down the crashing reality that the best relationship you ever had in your life was over. 
This brought on a whole new wave of confusing emotions. 
Anger. Rage. Sadness. Bitterness. Regret. 
Like your brain was a spin-wheel, it whirled around for a few hectic moments, and then - you landed somewhere between anger and pure rage. 
And that was when you finally spoke. 
“Spencer Reid.” You hissed out his name like it was pure venom - immediately, Spencer’s features fell from looking at you with nostalgic fondness, and dropped out to fear. “What the hell are you doing here?” 
Spencer opened his mouth, seemingly to answer this question, and the rage pumped harder in your system. You found that you didn’t want to hear whatever it was that he had to say. 
You stepped through the door, easily stepping into his personal space as you came onto the porch, and you gave him a hard shove in the middle of his chest as you spoke your next words - much louder than you intended. 
“What the hell is wrong with you?” 
You screeched, your emotions carrying your actions before any sense of logic or common decency could kick in. It was emotion that you had locked away four years ago - and apparently, it had been aging like wine, only becoming more potent with time. 
“You think that you can just magically show up in my life again after I specifically told you not to contact me?” You added on with a howl. “Do you think that order has a fucking expiration date on it?” 
You gave him another hard shove - perhaps expecting to prompt an answer out of him, or wanting to shove him off the porch entirely and get him out of your life once again. Which of those it was, you weren’t even sure. 
“You better have a good fucking reason for showing up here!” You screeched, your voice becoming so loud that it wore out your throat. 
“Look, Y/N, I-” He stuttered out. 
“Don’t say my name.” You hissed, cutting him off. “Don’t say my name like we’re friends.” 
You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest, and Spencer shoved his hands into his pockets, now finding himself utterly speechless. 
He definitely was not expecting this kind of reception. 
… 
You hadn’t taken the news that you were potentially being hunted by a serial killer very well. 
Although, strangely enough, that wasn’t even close to being the hot topic when JJ and Spencer got back in the car, watching you pull out of your driveway to attend to something you said was entirely urgent. 
“What the hell happened between the two of you?” JJ asked, the question finally unleashing from her lips. 
“It’s complicated.” Spencer huffed out in reply. 
Eventually - you did sit down and talk things out with Spencer, calmly. 
He had a lot of questions, and you tried your best to answer them. 
“Can I ask you one more thing?” Spencer asked when it came to the forefront of his mind. 
“Sure,” You sighed. “I think we have a few more minutes before you have to go.” 
“When did you find out that you were pregnant?” He asked. “Was it - was it before? Or after?” 
“After.” You told him. “It - it was about two weeks after. When I took one of those at home tests. And I had already made up my mind that I never wanted to see you again. So just - then and there, I decided that I was gonna raise the kid alone.” 
“So - so do you know when-?” Spencer began, and you cut him off. 
You already knew what he was going to say. 
‘Do you know when he was conceived?’ 
“No.” You rushed to say. 
But it was a lie. You knew. 
You felt like you couldn’t tell him the truth about this. If there was one thing you couldn’t afford to do right now, with Spencer Reid sitting at your kitchen table, staring at you with his big, inquisitive, glossy eyes, licking his lips, with his firm jaw set tight in contemplation - you couldn’t afford to go reminiscing with him about the night your son had been conceived. 
You had spent a lot of time during your pregnancy thinking. Doing the math. Trying to remember. 
And you knew exactly when. 
The night was so vivid in your mind. 
… 
He captured your lips in a smooth, knowing, passionate kiss - you didn’t hesitate to moan into his mouth, and Spencer echoed it right back. He had missed you so much during the day; even though he had seen you less than forty-eight hours before this, he felt decades of yearning in his heart. 
When he felt the bare head of his cock bump up against your entrance, smearing your wetness over him, he moaned even harder against your mouth. He pulled away from the kiss with a huff, moving his hand to your hip then as he asked a very important question. 
“Do you have a condom?” 
It broached the front of his mind, then, that he hadn’t brought one with him. 
“You don’t need one.” You breathed out in reply, combing your hand through his hair, raking your nails across his scalp in a way that made his hips unconsciously buck forward. 
When he felt more of that warm wetness smear across him, his cock just barely dipping into your heat - he didn’t entirely care to decipher the meaning behind your words. He simply trusted you. 
“Please, Spencer.” You begged quietly. “I need you. Just you.” 
(Later, when he was looking back on it, he would have guessed that you meant you were taking your oral birth control consistently. But looking back on it now - it was the only time within those last months of your relationship that the two of you didn’t use a condom. You were urging him on, and maybe, at the time - a baby truly was what you had in mind.) 
He wasn’t one to deny you anyway. And he certainly wasn’t going to deny himself of this. 
He reached down and used a hand around the base of his cock to help line himself up, and gently guided the length of his cock into you. 
This was always his favorite part. 
The gasp - the lilting moan you let out when his cock first slid into you, the way your thighs flexed around his hips - it was all so perfect. But it was even more perfect without the barrier of a condom in the way. 
It was perfect. It was so easy; it all came so naturally between the two of you. It was a perfect rhythm between your bodies that came from knowing each other so well, feeling so at ease with each other. 
It wasn’t just out of the visceral need to have him inside of you; it was the pure yearning to feel close to him, to have him as physically close as possible. 
With you, so tight and beautiful around him - he didn’t last. He couldn’t. 
“Y/N.” He warbled out your name, almost as a warning. 
“It’s okay.” You breathed back. “Cum for me. Come on, please.” 
Spencer couldn’t resist - not when you said ‘please’. 
The sound that came from his chest could only be described as a cry, and any fleeting thought he might have had about pulling out left his brain in a millisecond when he felt your tightness fluttering around him, his hips unconsciously fucking deep into you, his body loving the feeling of being held tightly there while your cunt milked him for all he was worth. 
He certainly didn’t miss the sweet moans you let out - the bright eyed awe you started up at him with as you felt his cum fill you up for the first time. 
… 
It was one of the last good memories you had with Spencer - one of the most perfect pictures you had of who he truly was before he came home from Georgia such a different person, and you had no clue why. 
Spencer could instantly see the lie in your body language - how closed off you became, how quickly you rushed to cut off his words. Along with the intense heat reflected in your eyes. You were thinking about that night. 
He thought he knew exactly which night you were thinking about, and he was going to call you out on it, make you admit in your own words how perfect that night was, even if the two of you were ruined now, a shadow of what you once were. 
But he was disrupted by the sound of his phone ringing.
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bby-deerling · 6 months
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one piece men + qualities they look for in a partner
i felt like doing some quick little headcanons! hopefully these aren't too overdone/played out. i may do a part two with some more characters in the future! masterlist
ft. zoro, sanji, law, ace, luffy
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luffy
this goes without saying, but someone who doesn’t take themself too seriously is number one on his list.
it's not enough to simply be a little silly and goofy; you have to be ready and willing to be his accomplice in his shenanigans, whether it’s 3pm or 3am.  he wants to have someone he can rely on to have fun with no matter what.
if you tell him you’re busy, or to go find usopp or chopper instead, he will pout about it until you change your mind (seriously, you really have to be prepared to roll with the punches with him).
zoro
i think i can only really see zoro getting truly invested in someone if they are easygoing and perceptive enough to understand what he’s feeling/trying to tell you without him spelling it out for you verbally.
he loves talking to you, of course, but he’s not a fan of “meta” conversations about your relationship and prefers having a partner who understands what he needs without him having to say it. 
in turn, he pays close attention to your feelings and needs, and appreciates not having to have long, awkward, drawn out conversations about these sorts of things—it leaves him more time to spend meaningfully with you instead.
sanji
the cook wants someone who doesn’t tease him too much. while he is one to accept attention from virtually any woman that crosses his path, he’s been through quite a lot and wants to be comforted and nurtured deep down.
some light joking is fine, but if a line gets crossed and he gets hurt, expect him to pout about it in private, unwilling to show you he’s been emotionally wounded.
he really craves a partner who will reciprocate the doting, saccharine, unconventional love that he gives to you.  it's all he dreams of, and if he is lucky enough to find that with you, he will return the favor tenfold to make sure you know how much you’re loved as well.
law
law strikes me as the type to be drawn to someone on a similar intellectual level as him.  he’s wicked smart, and a potential partner would have to be able to keep up with him.
you don’t necessarily have to be science leaning, but he appreciates a beautiful mind and a sharp wit.  someone who can meet him at his level of sarcasm/sardonic quips will quickly endear themselves to him.
he also would like to be with someone who isn’t judgmental about his more unconventional hobbies.  if he is going to let his guard down, he wants to be able to lower the walls all the way.
ace
ace needs a partner that will give him reassurance without him having to seek it out.  despite his happy-go-lucky and confident exterior, he has a lot of angst bubbling under the surface that needs carefully tended to.
he needs to know you appreciate him for everything that he is, not just the pretty parts. in return he will absolutely smother you with affection without a care in the world for who sees it.
i also see him drawn to extroverts—he enjoys a good party, and wants his partner to be beside him to experience it the whole time.  he also loves the thrill of travel and adventure, and i think he would also admire a similar quality in a partner.
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444lec33 · 10 days
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The Arrangement // Mafia!Lando x Reader
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Part 2 can be found here
WC: 1.7k
Warnings: none that I can think of
No descriptions of reader's physical appearance
Author's note: This was so fun to write, I hope you guys enjoy it 🧡
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” you sighed looking incredulously up at the ceiling. 
“Well believe it because he’ll be here any minute,” your father said sitting behind his desk. 
There was a quick knock on the office door before it parted to reveal your mother standing there, an exaggerated grin on her face. She beckoned you closer and you went to her begrudgingly. She grabbed your chin looking you over and started smoothing out your outfit. 
“You know how much this means for both our families. Don't embarrass us now, sweetie.” 
You rolled your eyes and refused to respond as he three of you trekked the halls leading to wherever your soon-to-be husband was. 
He was standing there looking rather curiously at the art work that adorned the ornate dining room. 
You hated the sound of your name on his lips and the cheeky grin that accompanied it as he turned around. Your arms were folded in irritation as you gave a simple greeting, letting the awkwardness grow.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you show Lando the rose garden?” Your mother chided hopefully, knowing that without being prompted you would never move things along for Lando’s visit. You were going to make a joke about the future kingpin’s disinterest in flowers before Lando spoke up with a playful tone. 
“I would love that.” Oh he was eating this up. 
“It’ll be good for you two to have some alone time before the wedding.” Your father remained silent as your overzealous mother aligned the pieces to connect your family to the most notorious mob in the country. 
Lando was all too excited to appease your mother’s wishes. A rough palm reached out and collected your hand dragging you towards the back entrance of your home. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I don’t know anything about you.” 
Your finance rolled his eyes before responding to your claim. “We’ve known each other for years, and this” he motioned between the two of you. “Was something we always knew would happen. No point in complaining,” he shrugged seeming as carefree as he always appeared for someone in his position. 
But Lando was right. You’d both grown up in relative proximity to one another, your families’ mafia ties linking the two of you in ways that ran deeper than you’d ever comprehend. 
“Alright fine,” you threw up your hands while standing up in front of him. “If we’re gonna do this we’re doing it my way.” 
Lando nodded, the appearance of his dimples telling you how comical he found your sudden interest in your present circumstances. “Ask away, love. Whatever you want and it’s yours.”
You hummed before rattling off the shortlist of needs you’d like to be met before you walked down the aisle to marry the mafia prince.
“Well for starters I want a ring. I big one. Like really big. Do not get me anything princess cut. Too predictable and cheap looking.” Lando was going to interject but you continued. “I don’t care if it’s gold or silver as long as it looks classy. Maybe a nice cushion cut or a Marquise. Dutch marquise,” you quickly added. “Oh and I wear a size 7.”
Lando took your brief pause as an opportunity to speak. “Should I be taking notes on all this,” he laughed and licked his lips clearly having fun with your pre-wedding demands. “Alright, now that I know what you want I promise I’ll deliver.” You knew he wasn’t lying. The Norris’ family was one of the wealthiest around, their fortune managed to dwarf the elaborate lifestyle your family’s own mob ties afforded you. 
“Okay, good. Glad we got that out of the way. Now if you’ll excuse me,” you pointed your thumb in the direction of your home, “I’d like to get back to enjoying the rest of my night.”
Lando was quick to his feet, his hand catching your wrist as you started towards the large mansion. “We’ve spent all night going over what you want, don’t you even care about what I’d like?” He questioned with a playful glimmer in his watercolored eyes.
“I couldn’t care less,” you turned and began walking again before Lando stopped you, grabbing your shoulders and spinning you to face him.
“That really hurts you know.” You rolled your eyes and glared at him. Leave it to Lando to make this situation into a joke. 
“Fine, what do you want? Separate houses? A girlfriend on the side? Whatever it is I really don’t care.”
“Honestly…” he trailed off, his hand rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. “I want us to give this a shot.” The words had barely left his mouth before you’d started laughing. “Okay, sure laugh at me but I’m being serious. Think about it this way; in a few weeks time we’ll be legally bound to each other and all the other bullshit that entails for the rest of our lives. You’ll probably, no definitely, be the mother of my kids.”
His words were making you feel things you wish you didn’t. As irritated as you were with this entire scheme your two families created you knew there was nothing you could ever do to escape it. Would leaning into it really be so bad? What’s the worst that could happen? Before you could interject with one of the million and one reasons you could think of to not forge a real relationship Lando spoke again. 
“You don’t have to decide now, whatever decision you make I’ll respect it.” You swallowed the lump that had grown heavy in your throat. “Oh and what you said earlier? I don’t want some girl on the side or whatever you want to call it. I’m actually willing to give us a try and I hope you’ll do the same.” 
You gaped at him, eyes wide. No dick on the side, no way. The words refused to leave your mouth but you nodded, hoping to bring the conversation to a close. 
“I have eyes everywhere, but I’m sure you already know that. If I were you I’d tie up any loose ends before the wedding.” It took a moment for you to realize what he was indicating. But how could you ever forget who Lando Norris truly was. If you were to ever go behind his back he would know, and from the looks of it things wouldn’t end to well for you or your paramour. 
“Okay fine, you win.” 
A shit-eating grin spread across his perfectly structured face. “I win,” he said more to himself, clearly enjoying the taste of the words in his mouth. “I do have one more condition before we really do this.”
Your eyes didn’t deviate from his as you waited for him to get on with it. “I want a kiss.”
“Alright great talk but no. Have a great night!” You were practically sprinting to get inside but Lando was quick on his feet catching you almost instantly. “You know you really need to stop running away all the time. That’s something we’ll need to work on.” The proximity between the two of you was closer than ever. If it weren’t for his tight grip you would have squirmed under Lando’s heavy gaze. 
He reached out to grab you chin making sure your eyes were trained on him. “Better now than the first one be in front of everyone we know. Let’s consider this practice for D-day.”
Practice. Sure. 
“Okay,” you whispered before your better judgement could stop you. Lando was confident taking the lead as his lips came close to yours. Nothing could have prepared you for the feel of his plush lips against your. As the kiss dragged on you slowly felt the tension you’d harbored before leaving your body. Why did he have to be such a good kisser. 
It felt like forever before the two of you separated, an awkward pause hanging in the air as you tried to separate your hate for your pre-planned life from the growing lust you were feeling for your future husband. Lando removed his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. He pulled you close to him as he guided you the short trek from the rose garden to your home. 
If you looked even half as disoriented as you felt it was probably best to stave off the embarrassment and head straight upstairs. You reluctantly turned around at the sound of your fiancé calling your name. You cast your gaze down to the end of the spiral stairwell where he stood. “I’ll see you next Saturday.”
There were question marks swarming your head as you tried to figure out what he was talking about. Tonight was intense enough, what else would he need to see you for?
Lando swiped his hand against his facial hair barely trying to hide the pleasure he felt by catching you off guard. He tilted his head to the side, dimples more prominent than ever. 
“Saturday night. Our engagement party.” 
Oh. Ohhhh.
“Right. Okay, yeah.” You mentally kicked yourself for forgetting the second most important date on your calendar for the foreseeable future. 
“I think a week should give you enough time to think about our little chat.” You were more likely to be ruminating over that kiss. 
At this point you were drained. Words were too much so you just flashed him a thumbs up and trusted one of the maids to show him out. “Goodbye Lando,” you called over your shoulder ready to hide away in your room for the rest of eternity. 
“Goodnight wifey.” 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When you finally reached your room you found yourself drawn to the window. You opened it up, not so subtly peaking at your fiancé’s black McLaren as it exited the gates. The sound of your phone vibrating on your bed pulled your attention from the sleek car growing distant from your home. You plopped down on your bed, body still wrapped in the warm jacket Lando covered you with. Looking at the device you noted several missed messages and calls. Some from your girl friends, and even more from your friends friends. You pulled a throw pillow close to you as you got comfortable scanning through your messages. 
Charles 
Still on for tomorrow?
Lewis 
Missed FaceTime 
Max
2 Missed calls. 1 Voicemail.
Time to tie up those loose ends…
~~~~~~~~
Part 2 can be found here
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papercorgiworld · 4 months
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Pansy’s interrogation II
Enzo, Blaise, Mattheo, Draco and Theo
Pansy’s back with more teasing and questions to confirm her suspicions.
Honestly, I know this isn’t peak writing, but I personally just love these little scenario’s. Also, no warnings!
All interrogations are separate scenes, so you don’t need to read part 1, but if you’re curious: read it here.
I’m currently working on a request based on the scenario’s of part one of ‘Pansy’s Interrogation’. Theo’s I will post later today, like in a few hours or so. The other one about Mattheo’s scenario is a bit of a struggle, so hopefully tomorrow evening.
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Enzo Berkshire
Pansy joins Enzo at the Slytherin table in the great hall for an early breakfast. “Lorenzo, sweetie.” He looks up as Pansy takes a seat next to him. Oh dear, she wants something. He hates this, he gets nervous when Pansy wants something from him. He really isn’t good at keeping secrets.
Pansy fills her plate, while Enzo contemplates what she could possibly want from him. “Yesterday the girls and I were talking and it came up that-“ Enzo drops his spoon on his plate, startling Pansy. He then turns to her, catching her full attention. “I wasn’t staring at (y/n)’s boobs… or ass. I mean I wasn’t looking at her. I’ve never seen (y/n) in my life.”
Pansy smirks. Dearest Lorenzo, you're a simp. Blaise and Theo join them, but immediately frown at Enzo’s flustered face. “He just confessed his love for (y/n).” Pansy chuckles.
Enzo eyes widened. “I didn’t confess to anything.” Blaise drops his head as he laughs. “Enzo, mate, almost everyone knows.” Enzo narrows his eyes in frustration with his friend. “Pretty sure I’ve heard you say her name in your sleep.” Theo adds.
Pansy laughs content with all the information she’s collecting. “It was more like a moan.” Blaise argues, making it worse. Enzo is losing his mind by now, worried what you’ll think of him. He’s pleased when he spots Mattheo and Draco approaching.
“Guys, help me out here. They’re saying I’m in love with (y/n).” Draco chuckles. “You mean the girl you yesterday referred to as your future wife.” You’re all a bunch of assholes!
“Okay, Pans, are you open to bribes? Because I really don’t need (y/n) knowing about this.” Pansy grins. “Maybe.”
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Blaise Zabini
Blaise walks away from you with a blissful smile. Pansy’s already grinning when he makes eye contact with her. He groans when she laces her arm with him. “So attentive of you help her carry her books.” Blaise just nods. “I would do the same for your Pansy.” She just darts her eyes at him. Flattery won’t help you, dearest Blaisy. “Reminds me of when you helped her during potions last week and let’s not forget that you lent her your notes for Herbology.”
Blaise forces her to let go of his arm, creating some much needed distance so he can keep up his cool act. “What can I say, Pansy, I’m just a really nice person. Maybe you should follow my example.”
“You’re nice on the eyes. But that’s as far as you go on the topic of nice.” Pansy argues, making Blaise’s eyes roll up in frustration.
“Hey, hey, Blaise, mate, I need your help.” Mattheo comes running towards them.
“You’re in luck, Matt, because as of recently Blaise is a nice and helpful person.” Mattheo frowns at Pansy, but decides to ignore her and turns to Blaise. “Sluggy says I really screwed up by not showing up to class… for two weeks. So, next week we will team up so I can fix my grades, alrighty?” Blaise just stares at his friend, while cursing that Pansy’s still there.
“Can’t you ask Theo?” Mattheo shakes his head. “Nah, I’ll annoy the hell out of him and get the content of the cauldron in my face.” Blaise sighs. “I can't, I need to help… someone else.”
Pansy licks her lips. “Let me guess?” She sings. “(Y/n)?” Mattheo grins in realization and Blaise clenches his jaw. A twisted smile tugs at Pansy’s lips.
“Alright then mate, since you’ve already got Pansy to deal with I won’t cockblock.” Mattheo leaves and Blaise just groans at the fact that Pansy’s still staring at him with wicked eyes.
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Mattheo Riddle
Mattheo watches you excitedly explain something to Hermoine at the Gryffindor table. When you catch him staring he winks at you and looks away. “Ahww.” Mattheo suddenly hears Pansy’s voice next to him, making him lose his appetite.
“It’s cute, but I don’t know in what male fantasy world, staring and winking makes a girl fall in love with you, but in this world it won’t work.” Mattheo’s tongue is poking the inside of his cheek as tries to ignore her presence.
“I might know what will make her fall in love.” Pansy whispers near Mattheo’s ear. His eyes search you and he finds you laughing with the Weasley twins, reminding him that you’re both worlds apart.
“Yeah, that’s great, go tell it to someone who cares.” Mattheo’s tone is calm, but his eyes are dark. He gets up and heads for the common room. Pansy raises an eyebrow at Mattheo’s sensitive behavior, before filling her plate without a care in the world. Apparently, someone’s still in denial of their feelings.
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Draco Malfoy
“What's up with that (y/n) girl?” Draco snars as he sits down in the great hall, making Pansy drop out of the conversation she was having.
“She’s wearing mismatching socks like some looney. Which is nearly as bad as that glittery thing she was wearing during the last quidditch game.” Pansy’s head was resting in her palm while enjoying Draco’s little rant.
“And what’s up with all those hearts that she draws next to her notes? Makes me sick.” Draco’s face fills with disgust and annoyance.
“Those hearts are because of you.” Draco looks up at Pansy, a blush immediately creeping up on his cheeks. “Really?”
“No. Of course not.” Pansy laughs and Blaise, who sits opposite of Draco, can’t help but snicker, earning himself a dirty look from Draco.
Pansy licks her lips, ready to play her game. “You sure know a lot about her. Been watching her? Or should I say stalking?” Draco gets a little nervous and avoids Pansy’s eyes. “I just notice things.” Pansy hums, not impressed with his answer.
“Then you’ve probably also seen her hang out with Diggory?” Draco snorts, unable to hide his frustration about the matter. “Yeah, what is that even about?”
“Maybe those little hearts on her notes have something to do with it.” Pansy watches Draco carefully so she can pinpoint the moment he realizes you might have a thing for Cedric.
“The girl obviously has no taste.” Is all Draco says before he starts picking at the food on his plate. Pansy smirks as Draco eyes land on your figure. Please, please, don’t let it be true.
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Theodore Nott
Theodore was lying in his bed with a book over his head avoiding everyone, but unfortunately Pansy is unavoidable. When he heard the door he didn’t react, but did listen to every step the person took to figure out who it was. Theo sighed when he came to the conclusion it wasn’t one of his mates, so it really couldn’t be anyone else but Pansy.
”What do you want?” Theodore snares when Pansy stops next to his bed. “No, need to be mean. I brought you overly expensive coffee.”
Theodore calms down and removes the book from his face. “Thanks, I guess.” Pansy rolls her eyes but offers him the coffee. Theo takes a sip, while carefully watching Pansy sit down on his bed. “What do you want?”
”Nothing! Is that so hard to believe?” Theo nods and takes another sip. Pansy scans the fresh bruise on his face and purses her lips. “I heard about the fight.” “Of course you did, why else would you be bringing me expensive coffee.”
“For what it’s worth, I think it’s sweet that you’re defending (y/n). What that guy said was outrageous.” Theo stares down the paper cup he is holding. He really didn’t need all of Hogwarts to know he punched a guy for calling you pretentious and fuckable. Especially since you and him weren’t exactly friends. “It had nothing to do with (y/n). He wasn’t watching where he was going and his dumbass walked into me on a bad day.”
“Punching people for walking into you, wow, you’ve been hanging out too much with Riddle.” Pansy sighs pretending to buy into his cool act.
“Theo, my dude, I found all the ingredients for that potion you were talking about! That piece of shit will never say a bad thing about (y/n) again!” Enzo’s enthusiastic face drops when he spots Pansy. “Oh hey Pans.”
Pansy smiles at Enzo and turns her face to Theodore with a victorious smirk. “I knew it.” Theo’s annoyed eyes roll to a very apologetic looking Enzo.
Did you spot a mistake or typo? Let me know, you’ll be rewarded with a virtual smootch!
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The crushing | joel miller x f!reader, 5.2k
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Summary: This is the story of a man who had everything in the palm of his hand and traded it all for an empty space in the hollow of his heart. Or This story follows Joel, two to three years after he cheated on his wife.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, ANGST, cheater!Joel, Joel's POV, this is NOT “The Falling” from Joel's POV, brief mention of smut (p i v) but nothing too graphic (I think), self-loathing, depression, therapy, flashbacks and memories from the past, alcohol consumption, Tommy being a supportive brother (eventually), as always let me know if I missed anything!
A/N: Ok, so, Joel gave me a whiplash on this one, he was either staring at me through the screen giving me nothing, or he was mumbling unintelligibly in my ear while I was trying to keep up with him. It started out as a final chapter, but I really think that this part should be Joel's POV and the next and -probably- final one should be the resolving, however that may come. I guess it can be read as a standalone, but if you're interested, it's a sequel to “The Falling”. I edited it seven thousand times because I kept adding things along the way, so I hope it all makes some sense and there are not too many mistakes.. Thank you for taking the time to read anything I write! Love you all! 🥰😘
P.S.: I just wanted to take a moment and let you know that I really appreciate everyone who has read, liked, commented, reblogged and asked about “The Falling”. I honestly didn't think a single soul would take the time to read that kind of story. It means more than you know and I didn’t take lightly how close to home this fic hit for some people; yet you’ve given it a chance, sharing some of your own experiences with me. I love you all, take care and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! 🥹🫂
Dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics
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...need your reassurance...
...your only focus…
...for the foreseeable future...
He did make it his sole focus. Because of course, he closed the deal, even after he left that damn table like a madman. He still found a way to get what he wanted. That's the man he was. And he wasn't sure if he hated himself for it or not. But self-loathing was a daily occurrence now, so one more reason added to the list was nothing he couldn't handle.
For two years he would wake up every day, is it called waking up if he doesn’t sleep at all?, he would work his ass off, he would go home, he would sink into despair and then he would start all over again the next day. A vicious cycle consisting of 730 days in a row. The deafening silence within the walls of the house was excruciating, the loneliness was unbearable. Even the light penetrating through the windows seemed different than when you were there with him, a dullness surrounding every corner of the now barely lived in space.
You. He hadn’t seen your face in 730 days. He hadn’t smelled your scent or touched your soft skin. He barely listened to your voice anymore, any form of unavoidable communication, you preferred to be conducted by the lawyers, or via text messages, at the most. At the 731st one, he finally knew, something had to change. He couldn’t repeat another day, like all the others that came and went. He simply couldn’t.
Tommy suggested that therapy might help Joel, a few times, but he refused every one of them. Maria was keeping her distance, her place was delicate, being his brother’s wife but also his wife’s best friend. Surprisingly, she was the one who finally got through to him.
“Are you gonna stay a recluse for the rest of your miserable life, then?” Maria wonders, switching her gaze between Joel and the dining room. Everything was untouched, as you left them when you moved out, but the place felt empty, depressing, probably mirroring Joel’s existence.
Joel sighs, closing his eyes briefly. “I’m not a recluse..”, he snarls through his teeth, rolling his eyes at her. He was more than eager to be done with the dinner his sister-in-law insisted on having in his house and be left alone, in his natural state. Alone. Infuriating woman.
“What do you call that?”, Maria persists, goddamn lawyer to the bone.
“What?!” Joel spits back pissed off, looking at his brother next, for support.
“That!” she gestures around his body and his surroundings. “The way you go on for the past two years! Either get over it or do something about it!”, she doesn’t hold back, even when Tommy proposes a gentler approach. Yeah, look where it got you, is the paid answer, so Tommy steps back, shaking his head and raising his hands up in surrender.
“You’ve got him on a leash, hm?”, Joel jokes absentmindedly, “Can you breathe alright, Tommy boy?”, earning himself a hard glare from Maria.
“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..” Maria mutters, causing Tommy’s eyes to widen in horror.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”, Joel retorts doing a double back at her.
“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”, Maria throws her napkin on her plate and leaves the room. Joel remains silent, pondering the meaning of her words. It would be a long time before he understood what she meant.
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Therapy was hard.
Therapy was hard because he had to do it for himself. He had to concentrate on himself. He thought, being the contractor that he was, that he would walk into the room, get the answers he needed and fix his marriage, just as he rearranged the bricks and the wood and the steel on the construction sites.
But this wasn’t about his marriage. His marriage and the way it crumbled down was the aftermath, he came to learn. It was the outcome of insecurities, selfishness, lack of communication, ungratefulness.
He got it all wrong. Everything. Every little thing. He had to rewire his brain and change every point of view he was holding onto. Honesty. Honesty was the key.
“Why didn’t you reach out to your wife after that night?”, his therapist insists.
“I respected her boundaries.”, Joel was quick to respond.
“And what were those?”
“She didn’t want to see me.”
“Did she say that?”
“No-, I mean-, the way she left that night, she didn’t say much in general. But she blocked my number, so.”, he shrugs in defence.
“So, how can you be so sure that she didn't want to see you? Even if you're right, it doesn't mean that she didn't expect a reaction from you, or that you weren't allowed to try, if that’s what you wanted.”
“Why would she? I upset her, she needed time to think, work things out.”, Joel explains.
The therapist swipes her fingers over her lips, contemplating her approach. “Joel, you walk into your bedroom, into what is supposed to be a safe place and you see your partner with another person in an intimate moment. How does that make you feel? Just say the first words that come to mind.”, his therapist changes the point of view.
Joel shudders just at the thought of it. You, naked, flushed, lips parted and swollen, skin sweaty, breaths short and pupils blown wide, coming for anyone other than him. It would utterly destroy him. “Furious, pissed, betrayed, heartbroken.. I think I would lose it, if I’m honest.” he admits instantly, in his haste to throw the abomination of this image from his thoughts.
“I see. But in her case, you think your wife was just upset?”
“No, of course not.” Joel slightly frowns, shaking his head.
“Do you think she felt all those feelings that you just described to me?”
“I believe so, yes.”, god this is so hard.
“You believe so?” the therapist pushes, again.
Joel’s nostrils flare from the sharp inhale, “I know so.”
“So, she wasn’t just upset.” the therapist concludes and Joel agrees without meeting her eyes, “No, she wasn’t.”
Over time, Joel came to realize that his choice of words was a subconscious attempt to diminish the seriousness of his actions.
“You said in a previous session that you gave space to your wife to work things out.”
“Yeah, it was only fair.”, Joel confirms.
“So, it was hard for you to give her that space?”
“Yes, of course, I missed her every day.”
“Was that a constant in your relationship?”, the therapist wonders.
“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”
“How did you work things out as a couple, before? I assume you had difficult times as partners, no?”
“Nothing major to be honest, my wife was a very calm and reasonable person. If anything occurred she would talk to me about it.”
“And how did you respond to that?”
“Uh, I was there to listen, we always found a solution together as a couple.”
“Hmhm, so, what changed this time?”
“What do you mean?” He knew exactly what she meant.
“Why didn’t you talk to her? Communicate with her? Maybe help her see your side of things, like you did before, find your way out of this together, as partners.” his therapist explains. “And even before the infidelity, did you let her know that something was bothering you, that you felt differently?”
"I didn't feel differently about my wife. My feelings for her never changed.", he immediately corrects her. "My love for her was never the problem," he confesses and it's the first time since his therapy began that he's shared something so personal, so private.
“But there was a problem, something was wrong if you felt the need to be intimate with another woman. So, why did you keep that from her?”
Joel opens his mouth already knowing he does not have an answer. Or that he doesn't want to give one. He shakes his head, raising his brows in a silent admission that he can’t answer that. Or he won't. His gaze is fixed on a loose thread on the fabric of the couch, his fingers keep picking on it.
“Joel?”
“I- I don’t know what you want me to say, I don’t know.” he keeps shaking his head. He can’t answer that. He won't.
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He was so angry when he left the session that day. He was so angry at you. He was angry at your honesty, your clarity, your courage to have a mind of your own and to speak it freely, knowing full well that probably no one else shared the same opinions as you did. That's what he loved most about you, but now he hated it.
“Own it, Joel. Own what you have done. At least that way it will be worth something. Otherwise it was all for nothing.”
This was one of the last things you said to him on the phone, while he was trying to persuade you to change your mind about the divorce. You were always so brave about those matters. Matters of the heart, of integrity. He remembers you always talking about things that he found admirable but utopian. Easy in theory, hard in practice.
“I need to be able to sleep at night. I need to own my decisions; not because I’m always right, far from it, but at least I know I’m being honest with myself. And that matters.” he recalls one of your late-night talks.
You usually found it easier to share your most vulnerable thoughts once you were thoroughly fucked and satiated. When Joel held you in his arms, your breaths almost shared over the same pillow, your scents and your fluids mixed together.
“We’re all imperfect beings, flawed; we all feel embarrassed when we fuck up,” you continue, “it’s hard to admit our mistakes to others, I get that. But deep down we always know what we’re doing and why we’re doing it. Admitting it only helps us to be present in our lives.”
“Be present?”, Joel seems fascinated by the way your mind weaves your thoughts together into deeply rooted beliefs.
“Yes, my love, there's no greater freedom than to live your life truthfully.” you smile at him, softly. Your sleepy eyes roam his face affectionately. Your fingertips caress his jawline, your thumb pressing lightly against the bare patch of his beard. He can feel your devotion pouring from your fingers and sinking into his skin at that moment.
“That’s one of my greatest fears, you know. Living my life in ignorance, in a lie.”, you whisper your deepest insecurity against his soft lips. His hold on you tightens as he rolls you onto your back, nestling his hips between your welcoming thighs. You are safe in these arms. His arms. You surrender to him, body and soul. You can feel his growing erection pressing between your folds, already wet from your combined releases. He tenderly brushes his lips against yours and slowly licks his way into your parted mouth, as he intertwines his fingers with yours. He enters you in one fluid, slow thrust, his warm exhale cooling your wet lips. “Then let me give you something real.”
Thinking back to those moments, Joel couldn't reconcile himself to the fact that he was the one who had brought that fear of yours to life. What broke him was that it was not a lie. Your life together had not been a lie. He loved you. In fact, he was burning up for you. He was a man of control, but not with you. Never with you. You consumed his every thought; being around you for too long made his lungs constrict in pain, begging for a deep breath. Sometimes he was worried sick that if he completely let himself love you like he needed to, he would suffocate you. He loved you. And it killed him that his actions suggested otherwise.
But at some point he had to be honest with himself. He was just protecting his ego. He was trying to get the upper hand out of a shitty, compromising situation. He wasn't being thoughtful, he was being selfish. He was biding his time. He thought the longer he left ‘it’ untouched, the less it would hurt when the inevitable time of confrontation came. He was scared out of his mind that he would lose you forever. No second chances, no redemption, no reconciliation.
No lingering scent on his pillow as your hair pools there, under his chin, as you nestle your face between his neck and shoulder, breathing him in. No laughter through the enormous house, damn, why did he build it so big; you never clarified what the disbelief in your eyes meant when he said he built this house for you, while he pulls you up on your feet for a silly cowboy dance.
No more gentle touches, no more noses brushing together as a silent goodbye in the kitchen before you rush off to work. No more turning around just before you open the door to leave, running to him like a little girl, giving him quick, hungry pecks on the lips while he laughs on your mouth, squeezes your butt cheek and slaps it playfully to say goodbye. Later, baby, he would promise you, his teeth nipping at your earlobe and he could feel your skin crawling with anticipation.
No more I love yous, either breathed, either whispered, either panted, as he makes a home for himself inside your warmth.
When did he fuck you last? He used to have you every day. You craved it every day. You craved him. Why did he stop telling you he loved you every chance he got? When was the last time you said it?
A week before that fateful night, when you touched him longingly, aching for him to touch you back and he told you he had work to do, he wasn’t a teenager anymore. Why the hell did he say that? Why did he sit there and watch the light fading from your eyes? I love you, you said with a sigh against his temple and walked out of his office defeated. Why did you say that? Did you know? Did you suspect? Why didn’t you fight him? You should have said something, anything, pushed him, punched him in the chest, woken him up. Would he have woken up? Or did he need that to come to his senses? Does he have to fall? Does this falling ever stop? Does he have to let you go? Will you come back to him? Does he deserve you?
Days blurred seamlessly into one another. Joel drifted further and further away from everyone. The house haunted him, all the progress he was making within the therapy walls was dissipating once he stepped inside the cold space of his empty house. Leaving the confines of it was his first thought in the morning, while he hurriedly dressed to go to his office far earlier than necessary and his last when he closed his eyes, as he laid his weary limbs on the couch, chasing still your now long gone scent on its fabric, knowing another sleepless night was his only companion until the first rays of sunlight hit the floor-to-ceiling windows to announce the beginning of another day.
People at work tiptoed around him, not knowing how to act. It was as if he was there, but not really. He was focused solely on the Marks project, mechanically going through board meetings, paperwork and supervising the construction site. He. Just. Wasn’t. There.
Joel, will you please sign the papers?
He simply stares at the text message for a good full minute, his thumbs hovering over the screen of his phone. This was one of the rare occasions you had initiated communication with him, always about the progress of the divorce.
No, no, I won’t, the little toddler in him screams, stamping his little feet on the ground.
The papers are not ready.
Joel texts back. He keeps it simple, frightened he might not get an answer back.
Joel, we both know they are. I don’t want any of your assets or your money; this is an easy signature, please.
An easy signature? You think he cares about the houses, or the cars, or the money?
You know I can’t accept that. The house is yours and so is a good part of the money.
The point was to share this house together, Joel, don’t you think us splitting up kind of defeats the purpose? And what on earth makes you think I would ever want to go back in there?
So, there’s nothing I can do to make this easier for you?
Easier? You think money or property can make up for what you’ve done?
Of course not, I wasn’t implying anything like that. Just wanna do something for you, anything.
Can you turn back time?
Of course, he can't. So, he doesn't know what to say to that. He just keeps staring at the screen, lost in thought. After 2 minutes another text follows.
?
You know I can’t..
Sign the papers. Please.
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“Is there anything in particular you want to talk about today, or should I take the lead?”
“Actually I’ve been thinking a lot about that night.”, Joel suggests for the first time. He usually lets the therapist decide where to steer the conversation, then simply refuses to elaborate until he feels ready to talk.
“What about it?”, he shifts his gaze from the window to the direction of her voice.
“I should probably rephrase that. I’m always thinking about that night, repeating it in my head again and again and I’m troubled by something I realized.”
His therapist nods to signal that she's listening.
“Why did she just leave? The more I think about it, the more it doesn’t make sense to me. She just left. No shouting, no breaking things, no attacking either me or-”, her. “Why she didn’t stay? Why she didn’t insist that I leave? She was just- so quiet.”
The therapist smiles in recognition of Joel's near breakthrough. They were beginning to get somewhere, his empathy nudging him under the surface.
“I'm really glad you mentioned that, Joel, so I'd like to take you back to that night and try to understand what might have been going through your wife's mind at that moment," she explains.
“So, she walks into the house, finds her safe space violated by her husband, and she chooses to handle the situation calmly and quietly-” Joel tries to stop her, but she already knows what he's going to ask. “I can't tell you why she chose that path, that's for her to answer, only she knows why.” His therapist continues, “She is making one request of you and one request only, can you tell me what it is?”
“She asked me to leave the house.”
“Hmhm.” the therapist looks at him expectantly.
“I just wanted to talk to her.”, Joel elaborates, “I thought that if I refused to leave, she would accept to listen to me.”
“So you forced your needs on her, while she was in a particularly fragile state of mind.”
“I should have made my intentions clearer, you mean?”
“I mean, that maybe you shouldn’t have had any expectations in the first place. Why do you think was so important to you, to explain yourself right at that moment?”
“Because I knew it was probably the last time I would see her for a while, I just wanted to ease her pain, why is that so wrong? Should I be indifferent? Would that be better?”
“Did it ever occur to you that you might be depriving her of her right to choose?” Come on, Joel, break some eggs.
Joel now begins to make connections. He rubs his hand over his face, the realization of what has really happened crushing him. “Oh, god, I-” He's been so selfish from the start. He hasn't shown you any respect, not even at this delicate moment. He didn't give you a choice as to whether you wanted to listen to him or not. He didn't even let you choose where you wanted to stay. He just made you leave the house. Did he make you believe he wanted you to leave? That he wanted her to stay? Because he didn’t. Fuck. “-I never thought about it like that.”
Fuck.
How could he be so blind? Why was he so blind?
His therapist insisted on it. Because no matter how much progress Joel made over the course of a year, he never revealed the true reason behind his infidelity.
“Joel, we’ve talked about a lot of things; you’ve tried really hard to make this all about your wife and about understanding what she was feeling and how your actions have affected her, but as I keep reminding you”, she smiles understandingly, “you’re the one in therapy, you need to heal your wounds before you even attempt to heal hers. And although it is in fact a really noble thought, this” she gestures between them, “can only work if you do it for yourself. I know it may sound selfish, but I promise you, it is not. It is the exact opposite.”
Fuck.
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“Yeah?”, his voice hoarse from sleep as he answers the door after the insistent knock at it. Tommy looks at him surprised once he opens it, “You’re sleeping, already?”. No, he wasn’t. He wouldn’t call it that. But when he goes almost a week without any proper rest, passing out is the right word for what he’s doing. “Yeah, I guess I dosed off..” Joel lies. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you.” Tommy responds as he squeezes himself through the door to enter the house. “Yeah, sure, come on in.”, Joel mutters under his breath. “You just saw me at work this morning, is everything all right?”
“I just came to check on you.” Tommy confesses uncomfortably.
“You could have called.”
“Would you have answered?” Tommy deadpans.
Touché.
“Tell Maria I’m fine, Tommy, no need to worry about me; go spend the night where it counts.”, Joel replies in an attempt to push him away, as he walks farther into the house, rounding the kitchen island.
“Hey, brother, I’m here, I am here for you.” Tommy’s eyes narrow in pain and concern as he stares at his sibling's back, following behind him.
Joel exhales hard through his nose, his grip tight as he grabs the edges of the counter, his head lowering between his shoulder blades.
“You shouldn’t, nobody should.” Joel sighs, rubbing the pads of his fingers across his forehead.
“Ok, that’s enough.” Tommy snaps at him. “Enough self-loathing, enough resignation. Enough. You’ve punished yourself enough.”
Joel laughs at that. “Is that right? Is it enough for you? What about her?” he asks, his head turned to the side, looking at his brother over his shoulder.
“What?” Tommy is genuinely confused.
Joel turns his back, resting his waist on the edge of the counter, now looking straight at Tommy. “I should have what? Just get on with my life? Let it all be water under the bridge? Disrespect her even more?”
“Jesus..” Tommy mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, the other resting on his hip, his eyes shut in frustration.
“Are you doing this for her? Does she even know that?”
“It doesn’t matter, Tommy!” Joel raises his voice, exasperated. “I’m not doing this for her, I’m not doing anything for her, apparently and that’s the problem.”, his voice breaks, the lump in his throat too big to push down. “She’s not here anymore, Tommy.” he’s standing fully on his feet now, pushing himself away from the counter, leaning slightly forward, like he’s trying to make his brother understand; his eyes are glazed, Tommy had never seen him so devastated before. “She’s gone. I’ve lost her.”, his palms clenched in fists in front of his chest, resisting the urge to wrap them around his shirt and rip it to shreds, as he wants to do with his heart.
“I thought therapy was working..” Tommy whispers, his eyes dropping to the floor beneath him.
“Oh, it’s working, all right!” Joel chuckles in irony, sniffing his nose. “I’m getting a front-row seat, witnessing what a piece of shit I am-”
“Hey!” Tommy tries to cut him off.
“-what on earth was she doing with me to begin with, is beyond me.”
“HEY!” Tommy's eyes bulge out of his sockets, angry at his brother's self-deprecating words. Joel bends his waist forward, puts his elbows on the island in front of him and lets his head sink in again.
“Ok.” Tommy breathes deeply to ground himself, his hands in a position of a prayer in front of his mouth, “Ok, we could both use a drink.” he realizes, as he moves to open the cupboard to grab two tumblers and the whiskey from the shelf with the drinks. “..or five.”
The two brothers drink their first round in silence, both calming their nerves down. Tommy refills their glasses without asking; he knows this is going to be a long night.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Tommy begins, pushing Joel’s drink back towards him. Joel wringles his brows in confusion, “What are you talking about? You’re always there for me.”
“No, I haven’t, not really.” Tommy admits, “I let Maria take over when all this happened and I’m sorry.”
“There was nothing you could do, Tommy, don’t sweat it.”
“Let me say this, please.” Tommy raises his hand, his palm facing his brother. “I was just- fuck, we all knew how much you loved her, how much you loved each other, so when it all went down, I just didn’t know how to deal with it. What to say to you, how to comfort you. I didn't know how to deal with you.”
“You blamed me.” Joel says matter-of-factly.
“No-”, Tommy weakly refuses but Joel shakes his head dismissively, interrupting him. “It’s ok, Tommy, you should.”
Tommy looks embarrassed, his cheeks slightly pinkish, not only from the whiskey. “It’s just that I- I couldn’t reconcile the image of the man you were with her, with.. you know..”, he stutters.
“..the image of a cheater. Say it.” Joel adds.
Tommy shakes his head, like he still can't believe what's happened. “Besides, while she was staying with us those first few weeks I saw how devastated she was, man- she was a shell of a woman, so I was confused, I didn’t know how-”
“Tommy. Tommy, it’s fine.” Joel feels his skin crawl visualizing you like that in his head, cutting his brother off once again; he deserves every ounce of mistrust and he knows it.
“No, it’s not.” Tommy insists. “Yes, you fucked up. Brother, you really did. You did a number on her-”, Joel’s body tenses instantly at his brother’s words, his jaw clenching as his eyes darken, moving down to his hands, his grip on the tumbler tightening, his knuckles turning white and Tommy stops abruptly, “shit, sorry, I didn’t mean-”, his face twitches with regret.
“It’s the truth. That’s exactly what I did.” Joel’s gaze seems detached as if he's somewhere else right now.
“What I meant to say, is that I should have been there for you in spite of what has happened. I can see you're suffering, it's taking its toll on you, it has been for some time now; tell me what I can do. How can I help you?” Tommy seems almost desperate, like he’s the one in need of redemption.
Your text flashes through his mind, can you turn back time?, making him smile bitterly.
“Can you turn back time?” Joel's repeating your question and as the words leave his mouth he can feel your presence next to him. That's the most he felt of you for the last three years. He's almost blissful.
“You know I can't.” Tommy sighs. Joel laughs earnestly, the irony of the moment too good not to appreciate.
“Joel, brother, please, just talk to me. Help me understand. You act like you’re the one who’s been cheated on. So, what happened? Why did you do it?” Tommy is pleading with him to give him anything.
Silence fills the room for much longer than either of them would like. Joel feels torn between telling his brother everything or keeping his mouth shut. He wants to tell him, he hasn’t told a soul, but he’s not sure he can get the words out. He’s not sure he can bear to hear the words coming out of his mouth. He’s not sure he can substantiate it, make it real. Because that’s how it feels. He talks about it and it becomes real.
But maybe this is the right thing to do. That’s what needs to be done. He needs to talk about it. He needs to tell the truth and admit the pain he’s caused. Make it real for you, too. Perhaps it is time for him to give you what is rightfully yours. Acknowledgment.
Joel’s made up his mind. He’s gonna talk to Tommy. He lifts his glass to down his drink for some liquid courage, freezing his hand in mid-air as the next words fall from his brother’s mouth. “First of all, who was it?”
“What?” Joel's eyes search Tommy’s through his glass for an explanation.
“Who did you do?”, Tommy clarifies.
Joel feels like he’s been struck by lightning. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Who did you fuck, Joel?”, Tommy begins to feel confused, are they not on the same page here?
“You don’t know?”, Joel can barely speak now, his voice low in shock.
“No one does, not even Maria; she never told anyone.”
You told nobody? Not even your best friend? Why on earth would you do that? Did you feel ashamed? Was it just too much to talk about?
But his brain takes pity on him, helping him for once to understand. He’s connecting the dots while your voice fills the corners of his mind through his memories. His head is swarming with images of you standing in that walk-in closet, remembering what you said the last time he saw you. You’re the one I married, not her. I expected better from you, Joel, not her.
You were right.
It didn’t matter who it was. That is why. He was the one making the choice. He was the one breaking his promises, breaking your trust, breaking your heart; breaking you. He was the one who should have known better. He was the one who should have been honest. Easy in theory, hard in practice.
He feels a fresh wave of pain scattering through his body. He welcomes it. Damn, he’s craving it. He’s glad you chose to withhold the identity of the woman. Not because somehow it’s making it easier for him to defend himself, on the contrary.
There’s no one else to blame. Nobody. Just him. All of the anger, the resentment, the disappointment, all of them on him. He embraces them all. Everything. He will take it all, swallow it down and let it rot inside of him.
Joel tells Tommy everything. Everything, but her name.
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Taglist: @southernbe, @orcasoul, @auteurdelabre
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bertoyana · 11 days
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i'm so sorry i don't want to be the "the party ended 5 years ago and he's still here" person but dark phoenix's final scene is still SO funny to me. especially to see how erik plays charles like a fiddle
like: he shows up with NO helmet AND a chess set. (he did this last time in days of the future past, and it worked, right? so it should work again, right? right???)
so, he sits, completely uninvited mind you, and he tries (and fails terribly bless his heart) at starting a normal conversation, he asks charles about his retirement, probably trying to get charles to like, talk about it or whatever
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(rip erik's hairline)
charles is not having any of it, which... valid. the last time he and erik had a full conversation, erik told him to shut the fuck up 
anyways, erik realizes his failed attempt at being casual did NOT work like he wanted, so he pulls out plan b - he calls charles his old friend (which, if you pay attention, in the prequels they use 'old friend' as a term to de-escalate the situation)
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which WORKS, for some reason, and charles immediately deflates and gives erik the tiniest smile in existence, because erik showing he cares always seems to do it for charles lmao
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(he's so embarrassing . god bless. @ x men: is this your leader)
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anyhow, erik pulls out the second part of his plan b - he asks charles if he wants to play a game. still playing casual. just two buddies. just two guys. some guys. just some friends having a toootal normal n casual conversation.
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and you can immediately see charles close himself up, he crosses his arms and avoids looking erik in the eye. erik managed to soften him up with the 'old friend' and having his helmet off, but it's not enough YET so erik pulls out his plan c. luckily his last one, christ, charles really does like to keep them waiting doesn't he
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keep an eye on erik's entire demeanor in this scene, his position is not closed off like charles', he's open, he leans on the table, and maintains eye contact with charles. his head is tilted to one side and everything, completely harmless
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i'm so obsessed with charles' microexpressions here james mcavoy you are so insane
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anwyays, charles uncrosses his arms and his position does come off a little more open, but if you watch the scene you can see him shake his head. this obviously touches him - but he's probably intending to say still no. probably because he has the biggest martyr complex i've ever seen in a fictional character 
so, erik pulls up his fucking plan d (lol) and hopefully this time IT WILL be the last. he pulls the pawn out of his jacket pocket.
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(why the fuck is this played like a fucking romantic scene i'm so serious, why is he smiling to himself like that)
mind you, erik had the pawn in his pocket the entire time, which could mean either of two things:
charles looks surprised/confused the entire scene, but in THIS part he doesn't look confused, he just looks like he's still trying to figure out what erik is trying to do. so it either means erik makes charles play this 'guess where it's hiding' game all the time (????) which doesn't really sound likely for him to do, but erik is always begging charles to get into his head so it wouldn't surprise me if he actually did this every time. god knows he's desperate enough or
erik was expecting charles to reject his offer right away, and had multiple other plans shoved up his ass if this was the case. this also seems likely, he's obsessive enough to have thought multiple ways through. 
anyways, he puts his two fists up and pulls up the most mortal sentence in existence. one he knows charles won't be able to deny him
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"just ONE game 🥺 for old time's sake???? 🥺🥺🥺" man stfu you are 62 years old GET UPPPP 
anyways - pay attention to his wording. 
"just one game" because erik came ALLLL this way for charles, so charles might as well play ONE game with him, and then erik could be gone - if charles wanted it that way. 
"for old's time sake" when things were easier and when they were more at peace - when they were on each other's side. when they were together and the mansion, just after charles had saved him and gave him a hom- oh wait 
(also, there's 100% a hidden meaning here. and there’s also a 100% chance i’m reaching but idc. the pawn could be in his left hand or his right. the possibility is 50/50. the only way charles could know with 100% certainty was if he entered erik's mind - if he took up erik's offer. but he could also not get into erik's mind and just... guess and fail - by thus, not taking erik's offer. erik is giving him an out, a choice to make the first move)
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(and the chess piece he offers charles a WHITE pawn. the white pieces are the first ones to move. 
also also if you have paid attention to the previous movies, erik is always the one to use the white pieces, this is the first movie where we see charles play with white)
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anyways, charles does struggle a bit with the choice, but ultimately he decides to accept erik's proposal and """guesses""" right.  
and going from erik's... entire face and smirk lmao i'm guessing charles went into his head to get it right. mind you, this is like sex for them
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charles accepts - erik is very relieved to know he's not the only one who's down horrendously. and after the worst guessing game in history (seriously, the pawn was in erik's right pocket and then he had it hidden in his right hand... man i guessed that shit and i'm not even a telepath) they start rearranging the board
so anyway, erik gives charles this look like he wants to climb him like a tree, which means that playing edward 'down embarrassingly bad' rochester in jane eyre (2011) finally fucking paid off
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erik doesn't even blink mind you, and charles doesn't take his eyes off erik either way, which means they are just STARING at each other without blinking for god knows how long LMAOOO 😭😭😭
once everything is said and done, erik makes a silly little joke and charles rebuts. then erik gives him the biggest smile i've ever seen him give to someone since magda, and then he follows it up with a smaller, softer smile with no teeth
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seeing this for the first time in the theater was like getting shot in the chest, no joke
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mind you erik stopped trying like three minutes ago but for some reason, the first time we finally see charles soften up in the ENTIRE movie is after he sees erik smiling at him. which could mean nothing.
and the thing is: charles does have a big heart, and he means well, most of the time, but he also doesn’t necessarily has… the best way of showing it with his actions lol. erik knows this, and he knows charles has a thing for lost causes, for people the society has given up on. charles threw himself into the freezing water to save erik - even when he didn't KNOW him. 
AND he also knows charles has the biggest soft spot for him, he KNOWS - because all those years ago, charles' biggest accussation wasn't "you paralyzed me" it was "you left me". because after erik lost his wife and daughter, charles rushed to find him, to make sure he was okay. because nine years ago, charles looked at apocalypse and said "fuck you you are twisting erik's grief, and you are hurting him" to A GOD BTW. TO HIS FUCKING FACE NO FUCKS GIVEN AT ALL
tldr: call erik the fucking violinist because boy he sure knows how to play charles like a fucking instrument and how to press all the right keys to get him to say yes to him. he gave charles an out if he didn't want to come with him, but he also came PREPARED for it, mind you, he came PREPARED to take charles with him to genosha. he didn't get to take charles with him 30 years ago, and he was going to be dammed if he didn't take charles with him NOW (this time with no bullet wound and no helmet lol)
and the most insane thing to me is, that he knows charles has a soft spot for him, he's known this for 30 years, and yet, the only time he uses it in his favor is to get charles to say yes to him on this. the only time he uses it is when he thinks he can do something to help charles - to give him back all the kindness charles gave to him 30 years ago. 
anways i'm insane. i'll be back here eating glass if you need me. i'm so normal about them. simon kinberg broke something in me 5 years ago
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3hks · 4 months
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Foreshadowing I
Foreshadowing is a literary element where the author hints at a future event without giving it away. However, if you're like me and struggle to actually include original, effective foreshadowing, then luckily for you, I completely racked my brain to find very specific types/examples of foreshadowing that you can include to your story!
Note: I specifically stated "very specific types," I'm not going to be detailing the separate types of this element that you learn in school, but more of prompts and ideas that are meant to spark your creativity!
Dialogue:
>> Threats - Threats hint at future negative events that may occur to your character(s).
>> Warnings - Warnings and threats are not necessarily the same thing. While they both suggest negative things, a warning does not have to come from aggression, but rather helpfulness!
>> Promises - Promises foreshadow two things: said promise being kept, and said promise being broken. However, most readers will assume the former, since the latter is typically less likely.
Item symbolism:
>> Flower language - Different flowers have different meanings, and while most readers will skip over that, it's a fun addition! You can use those meanings to hint at what might happen later. For example: Purple hyacinth represents a desire for forgiveness! With the idea of foreshadowing in mind, if a character gives the flower to someone they're close to, it suggests that they might do something they'll regret in the future.
>> A broken item - This is an example used to foreshadow future struggles, pain, and separation. To get the most effective result, choose an item that has value to your character and is connected to the future event. For example: A crack in a glass picture frame holding a picture of a character and their closest friends should hint at the idea that the group of friends will split up.
Miscellaneous:
>> History - You know what they say! History always repeats itself! Use this to your advantage! What people did a long time ago can still influence the current generation, and what happened in the past could most definitely happen again in the future. This could involve family, ancestors, wars, diseases, deaths, friendships, etc.
>> Weather and seasons - This is a pretty simple idea, different types of weather and seasons symbolize different things! Summer and sunny weather typically demonstrate joy and blitheness! Fall and similar weather exhibits a change or shift in things, and even nostalgia! Winter and cold/stormy weather can symbolize an ending, numbness, apathy, and darkness. However, winter can also symbolize beauty, comfort, and festivity! Lastly, we have spring! Spring represents a fresh start and change!
Alright! That's it for now, so here you go! Hopefully, these examples are able to give you some new ideas! There will be a part two, but in the form of dialogue prompts! So if that's what you're looking for, keep an eye out for that!
Happy writing~
3hks :]
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jihyoruri · 28 days
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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 CAUGHT IN BETWEEN kim chaewon & huh yunjin
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🧋★ ͘ ⴰ JEALOUSY & LEADER DUTIES
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“you’ve got to be kidding me.” is the first thing that yunjin said when the leader of lesserafim walked into the car sitting right between her and yn with a smile on her face.
“what was that?” chaewon asked while she leaned against yn’s shoulder who was rubbing her eyes with a pink blanket wrapped around her from being woken up about 15 minutes ago.
“oh nothing.” yunjin says before taking a peek at yn who proceeds to put headphones on and turn up the volume of the music on her phone to the point that you can hear it through the headphones before closing her eyes and resting her head on chaewon’s shoulder.
yunjin clears her throat before looking at chaewon, “what are you doing here?” she asks as the car starts.
chaewon smiles, “what do you mean?” she asks innocently, “I’m supposed to be here, I’m the leader it’s my duty to accompany you guys to these things for support.”
yunjin narrows her eyes at chaewon’s obvious bullshit before turning her head and looking at the window, watching the rain fall, this is going to be a long morning.
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chaewon eyes widened when she saw yn in the white dress, a smile made its way to her face only to be wiped off immediately when she sees the taller girl walking behind yn in a white dress as well.
she walks over to the two girls with a faux smile on her face, “you look so pretty!” she exclaimed gesturing towards the dresses. “you look like a princess.”
“I look like a ready to be wife.” chaewon's smile faltered, feeling a pang of jealousy that yunjin was the person that got to do something like this with yn.
it should be my wife.
“well, we should get to set.” yunjin says budding in on their moment, she smiles when chaewon gives her a sharp glare.
“oh yeah, let’s go.” yn says, she links her arm with chaewon’s as the girls walk together their manager’s following not too far behind, “I wish you were doing this with us, I love doing photoshoots with you, it reminds be of iz*one.”
chaewon smiles at yn’s words before looking behind to through yunjin a smile who just rolls her eyes and turns to their manager to start a conversation.
“remember when they paired us for everything? I miss that.” yn says smiling sadly at the memories, “now all they do is pair me with yunjin who’s my ready to be wife.” she jokes referring to their outfits.
it’s now chaewon’s turn to roll her eyes she looks behind to see yunjin smiling, ugh.
“honestly I wish the dress was pink, imagine a pink wedding dress?” yn rambles who chaewon who just looks at her with heart eyes as she rants.
“you should wear that to your wedding in the future.” she replies hopefully ours she thinks to herself.
“I’ve honestly never thought about a wedding.” yn says softly, “but the again when do I ever? the farthest I’ve thought is when I get my oscar.”
as they arrived at the set, yn and yunjin were greeted by the bustling activity of the photoshoot. makeup artists and stylists hurried around, putting the finishing touches on the set and the girls' outfits.
chaewon stood off to the side, her gaze shifting between yn and yunjin as they prepared for the photoshoot. she listened absently to the manager discussing their schedules for the next week, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of yn and yunjin.
both yunjin and yn are instructed to lay in the set of the flowers that compliment the dresses, yunjin makes a joke as they lay down which makes everyone laugh well everyone except for chaewon.
“it wasn’t that funny.” she says loud and clear causing everyone to laugh even more, the funny part is that she’s being dead serious.
as fast as the shoot started it ended even faster.
chaewon walked over to yn and yunjin patting both of their shoulders, she patted yunjin’s with more force causing the girl to flinch and rub her now sore shoulder.
“let’s go.” the leader says linking her arms with yn and walking towards the van
chaewon drags yn with her as they make their way into the van, chaewon grabs a blanket that was on the seat and places it over yn’s and her’s legs.
yunjin entered the van not to long after them, “fans are going to go crazy over this shoot.” she starts, pausing to look at yn and chaewon covered in the blanket, before flashing chaewon a smug smile.
“fans go crazy over anything.” chaewon says brushing off yunjin’s comment while looking at yn phone who scrolls through youtube before putting on her headphones probably intentionally tuning out everything around her.
yunjin called yn’s name and didn’t get a response, all she could hear was the blasting video coming from the girls phone, she internally smiled and immediately shot chaewon an accusing look, “okay you can throw away the innocent stuff, why did you come?”
chaewon side eyed yunjin and looked out the window, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“are you serious?” yunjin says, “when have you ever attended a photoshoot for leader duties, this was just another one of your ways to get between yn and I.”
yunjin’s last sentence almost had chaewon jumping over yn to tussle with the girl, “there’s nothing between you and yn to get in between.”
yunjin opens her mouth to respond but is cut short by chaewon’s rage, “are really stupid enough to think that you and yn have something? I’m embarrassed for you.”
yunjin tenses at the girls tone but doesn’t back down, “well we have to have something for a creative director to request for a shoot for wedding style dresses.” she responds back quickly only to flinch at chaewon’s laugh.
“do you really wanna play this game right now?” chaewon asks seriously, yunjin furrows her eyebrows because this is the most serious she’s seen the leader, “you may like yn, but your like for her will never amount to mine, you’ve had your fun but it’s time to back off.”
there’s silence for a second the only thing filling the van is the music from the radio and the sounds from the headphones, yunjin swallows thickly, “I will not back off, I’m not like all the other people you’ve scared away.”
this another few seconds of silence.
“okay.”
there was a chilling vibe to the leader’s words. yunjin should feel relieved at chaewon’s calm response to her own , so why does she feel nervous?
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feeder86 · 2 months
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Feeder 86: The Top Ten
Can you believe that the Feeder86 ‘Orginal Gainer Stories’ blog will soon be posting the two hundredth story? I thought of many ways to celebrate. But then I stopped and realised that I would probably be best using the time to address one of the questions I get asked about most frequently. Which of the stories do I personally like the most?
This was not an easy list to make as I very rarely go back to re-read my own work after I have finished editing and posting them. This is not because I do not like them, but because I always see bits that I want to change. Nevertheless, this project was the perfect opportunity to revisit a few oldies that I remember being very proud of at the time. 
Hopefully you will see this list for what it is: a glimpse into how I write, my motivations and drive; rather than just a self indulgent pat on the back for myself. Yuck!
So, with that being said, let us begin...
#10 The Feeders’ Formula: This tale certainly had to be placed into the list. After all, it is the one that kicked off ‘Original Gainer Stories’ all those years ago. There are many amazing examples of instant body weight transformation stories out there. I felt that I needed to write this one as my contribution to the genre. It went down well at the time. I swiftly wrote a Part Two, then followed it up with others (The Feeders’ Formation, The Feeders’ Formalities, The Feeders’ Foreclosure, The Feeders’ Forecast, The Feeders’ Former Years), becoming something of an ongoing saga in recent years; focusing on the different Feeders from that very first meeting. As a writer who sometimes struggles to find the ending, these are wonderful to write as they all have the same inevitable conclusion. There is also so much freedom to be had when you’re working with characters who are pretty much pure evil. I know so much more about the Feeders than I’ve ever written down, so it is great to tease out those little details with each new installment. The newest of these tales (The Feeders’ Foreplay) was the darkest yet, but seems to have provoked a very favourable reaction from many. Who knows what the Feeders may get up to next? I do! And you can find out too, once we start a whole new sweeps season of stories this April! Come with me into The Feeders' Fortress!
#9 Only One: Where do I start? Only One has my absolute favourite type of feeder. Ben is big, sexy and very in control. He’s one of those rare types of guys who always stays on top and is a step ahead of absoultely everyone he meets. Who wouldn’t fall for him? I certainly did! In fact, I loved him so much that I wrote an entire prequel for him (and none of you even noticed!) Check out Rewire if you want to see how Ben became the man we know and love.
#8 The Wright Boys: The idea of a weight gain that cannot be stopped or controlled is a tempting one for many. How much easier would it be if you didn’t have to second guess your choices or face the pressure to lose weight? This was the first tale of what I see as ‘The Curses’ saga that eventually bled into many other stories (including another one on this list!) and culminated in Wright vs Beckett. However, this story remains my personal favourite of these. If you’re a fan of looking for crossovers between my stories, these are some of the most explicitly linked. I followed it up with a spin-off tale (The Wright Boys: DNA), but continue to have ideas about how I could go back to these boys in the future. Watch this space.
#7 Making Monsters: The title of this story really does give away how I felt about it at the time. This is quite the saga, spread over into not just two, but three parts! It began as a story that was very similar to Blackmailed; a tale that I had written previously about a guy voyeristically enjoying seeing his friend fatten up her boyfriend. However, this story evolved even further for me, with Tommy’s love of eating and gaining weight being both his greatest love, and his biggest shame. His denial only heightened the tension for me, and, when he does eventually give in, the gains feel all the more satisfying as a result.
#6 The Pig Feed: It’s not easy to write a gainer story where there isn’t another character spurring the events along and encouraging things. In this tale however, that role is given to a very tasty and surprisingly addictive pig feed mixture that Steve gets himself hooked on. It’s a story that I really enjoyed writing and still feel very happy with. I have considered writing more stories around this interesting feed. However, I am yet to do so; deciding (for now at least) that things are perhaps best left as they are. But, feel free to let me know your thoughts on this.
#5 Farm Boy: Whether you grew up in a big city, or a small rural community, like Hayden in this story, we can all relate to having desires and attractions that those around us don’t understand. And, thanks to how well connected we are these days, we now know what it’s like to realise that you’re not actually alone, and the whirlwind of excited emotions that follow. I enjoyed writing this story because I, quite simply, fell completely in love with Hayden. As kinky as he was, he still retained that fresh faced innocence throughout. If any of my characters were destined to be together forever, I imagine that these two would be my top choice.
#4 Keeping a Crush: This is one of those stories that I wrote in a matter of hours, and I was so pleased with it when I was done. Getting the train to go to work is not necessarily something that many Americans have to do, and so the location had to be switched to the UK (quite refreshing, I thought!). For me, it’s one of those really rare instances where placing very solid restrictions on the structure of a story (In this case, having it all take place during the commute to and from work) and finding that it actually elevates the sexual tension and mood. All scenes take place in public settings. All conversations could, in theory, be overheard. These days, so many people meet online and flirt for weeks by messaging back and forth, before they even see each other for the first time. Nowadays, for better or for worse, the actual, real fantasy is finding a connection with someone you just see in the real world; perhaps with a person you literally just met on the way to work...
If you’ve not read this one, I really would highly recommend it.
#3 To the Max: Stories with a magical element to them are either loved or hated. However, I find that this tale walks that line very successfully. Ned gets his hands on a love potion and makes straight guy, Max, fall for him. I’m sure we’ve all been there with that fantasy! However, it is in the consequences of inviting someone into your life, someone that you actually know very little about, that the entire eroticism of this story is based. I won’t spoil it for those who have not read it, but believe me when I say that things soon start getting very interesting indeed…
#2 Tommy’s Two Hundred. Don’t recognise this one? Well, that's because none of you have read it yet. 
Now, I’m not just saying this because I want you all to come back for the two hundreth story, but this is genuinely one of my absolute favourites. For my big milestone stories in the past, I have written something specifically for that event (Wright vs Beckett, The Seven Feeders of Finn). However, this is just a tale that I adored writing and decided to hold back for you all, especially for this occasion. It’s a story of domination and submission within a fairly open, but very kinky, relationship. Strapping Hunter plays the part of a very controlling feeder, making me break many of my own rules and stretching my boundaries to the absolute limits. You’ll either love him, or you’ll hate him. That’s all I’m going to say…
Also, this story is going to be the first Feeder86 story that will be fully illustrated. It’s all thanks to the amazing talents of Spellwell9 who was given an advanced copy and asked to imagine the characters in four different scenes. I cannot wait for you to see this!
Put it in your diary. All will be revealed from Friday 5th April…
#1 F80 Control: This is perhaps a controvercial choice (especially as my #1). I have previously admitted that this story strays a little from its purpose of being a gainer story. In other words, I get very caught up in the background story that is being told. However, I feel that the science fiction genre is surprisingly underused in tales of weight gain. Yet, the combination of Aritificial Intelligence and submission seemed, to me, to be the perfect blend. It really is a beast of a story if you can follow it all the way through to its conclusion. 
With the advent of improved artificial intelligence software in recent years, I felt the time was right to develop the world further, with the addition of F80 Ctrl Alt Del; a spin-off tale set slightly before the main story. Then, unable to help myself, I followed this up again with another companion story, F80: Kidnap and Control. 
The reason I chose this universe as my favourite is because this is where I am happiest writing. With AI, I don’t need to consider the morality or motivations - I know exactly what their aims are and I can see multiple ways in which it will cause conflict with humanity (and their waistlines!) I would also love to write more for this world one day, and I even left a little unused subplot in the last story that I think would provide the perfect starting-off point for another chapter. Will I ever write it? Well, we’ll have to wait and see…
So, there you have it! The the complete list!
This was a much harder exercise than I expected when I first embarked upon it. Stories like: Jiggle the Jock, Meticulous, Rule Number One, Freaks, Leftovers I and II, Ethan: The Secret Feeder and, not fogetting The Consequences I, II and III all crept in and out of the list, unfortunatley missing out on the final cut. There are many, many others, of course. But this list cannot go on forever...
So, why not tell me which ones were your favourites? Feel free to write in the comments and post a link to any other stories that you have enjoyed from myself, or from other authors. Hopefully, if we all work together, this could become a great resource for people in the future, filled with signposts and reccommendations.  
Also, don’t forget the Feeder86 Contents page where you can find links and descriptions of all the 200 stories posted so far (as well as plot outlines for upcoming tales as well). Please continue to enjoy the vast catalogue of stories, and even have a go yourself! I love supporting the many new gainer fiction writers who contact me. So please do get in touch if you need advice, or to talk through your ideas. Let’s all encourage a whole new generation of people to get typing away! I’m sure you will cheer them on just as much as I will.
Thank you to everyone who supports the stories blog here on Tumblr. Keep checking in every Friday througout April for a whole new sweeps season to celebrate this milestone. Stories will include: Tommy's Two Hundred, Train for a Gain, The Feeders' Fortress and The 1% (a companion story to The 5%). For now, I thank you all for taking time out to sit and read the very bizarre tales that sprout from my mind. You are all wonderful.
Happy 200 stories!
Feeder86
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dantakeyoman · 1 year
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You and Kiri Overhear Lo’ak Giving Neteyam Advice On How To Ask You Out (SFW / Comfort)
Reader is Fem! Omaticaya
CW: fluffy fluff, Neteyam is adorable, Lo’ak and Kiri duo strike again, all this is based on this one tik tok sound that I heard that was SO adorable, and it screamed Neteyam
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“I’m telling you, that boy is obsessed! I’ve never seen someone pine over another so much,” Kiri laughed, giving you a playful shove.
“You’re just trying to make me feel better. If he liked me as much as you said, he would’ve said something already,” you playfully rolled your eyes, waving your friend off.
You two had just finished healing lessons with Mo’at, and were now on your way back to the Sully tent to hang out with the boys.
Kiri was swearing up and down that the feelings you had for Neteyam were very valid and very mutual, but you weren’t buying it.
Neteyam was a warrior, a Sully, a future Olo’eyktan.
You were just a simple girl who wanted to become a simple healer.
In your eyes, there was nothing special about you. You weren’t the best hunter, singer, or dancer.
So why would he ever like you?
A romantic relationship with Neteyam was a pipe dream. And to keep from getting hurt, you reminded yourself of this fact over and over again.
 “Well, my brother may not look it, but he’s an idiot. And a shy one at that. But that shyness and idiocy is alllll for you,” Kiri teased, giving you a few pokes in the stomach.
“Quit it!” you laughed, frantically shoving her hands away.
That was your tickle spot.
“You’re crazy! I could never say that!” a familiar voice exclaimed from inside a nearby tent.
You and Kiri quieted your giggles, turning to each other in confusion before moving closer to the home, peeking through a small tear.
“Shut it! Do you want the whole clan to hear?!” Lo’ak harshly whispered, shushing his older brother.
Neteyam.
“I’m sorry, but that’s far too bold. I’ll scare her away,” Neteyam dismissed, resting his hands on his knees, which were sat criss-cross.
Her?
You felt a piece of your heart break, and tears well in your eyes.
They were talking about a girl. One who Neteyam seemed fond of.
“We should go. It’s rude to listen in,” you whispered, your voice small and slightly broken.
Why were you feeling this way?
A lump in your throat seemed to grow larger and larger every time his words replayed in your head.
You had tried to push away your feelings, but at the first mention of another girl, it was made perfectly clear that you could not hide emotions so intense.
And Kiri was quick to pick up on this.
“Now hold on a minute. Let’s hear the rest,” she held your hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.
Little did the two of you know, Lo’ak had heard every word you said, and was now going to make it his mission to put on a show for Neteyam’s girl outside.
He knew his brother was a painful over-thinker, and would never make the first move on you.
So why not give him a little push?
“Okay, so what do you want to tell her then?” Lo’ak started again with a sigh, giving his brother tired eyes.
Neteyam groaned, raking a nervous hand through his braids. “That’s the problem. I don’t even know what to say.”
“Girls love compliments. So you gotta compliment her. Tell me a feature of (y/n)’s you like,” Lo’ak smiled, hopefully talking loud enough so you could hear
“Her eyes. They’re so big and beautiful, and have such a pretty, yellow color to them. I want to tell her this, but how should I?” Neteyam asked again.
“Just say it, bro. Walk up to her, flash her a nice smile, then say, Hey, (y/n). Did anyone ever tell you your eyes are beautiful?” Lo’ak demonstrated, making a Neteyam face at the last part.
You blushed so hard you thought you might burst.
Neteyam felt this way...about you?
“See, there you go again. You may be able to say that, but I cannot. I do not......I do not have your confidence,” Neteyam looked down at himself, hanging his head.
This was pathetic.
He needed to get help from his baby brother in order to talk to you.
He had faced his Iknimaya, Sky People, even his angry dad. But talking to you was scarier than all of those three things combined.
Lo’ak gasped, abruptly standing up from his seat. “You have loads to be confident about, bro! Just look at you.”
He smirked, walking over to his brother and giving him a firm pat on the back.
“You’re a strong warrior, a skilled hunter, and a killer with a bow and arrow. Not to mention you have the devilishly good looks of us Sully men. You’re the whole package, dude.”
Neteyam slightly smiled, thankful for his brother’s praise, but still on the fence about all this.
Lo’ak sighed, sitting down in front of the nervous boy.
“Let’s try something else. Why don’t you tell me what you like about her face? Her lips? Her hair? The way she braids her hair? What about-?” “I love all of it, okay!” Neteyam interrupted, unable to take this anymore. 
“I can’t pick one thing to like because they all are perfect to me. She is perfect to me. But I cannot just walk up to her and tell her this because what if she does not feel the same. I’d have poured my heart out, only for it to spill on the floor.”
Damn. 
Lo’ak had no idea his brother could be so poetic.
Sure, it would make him want to barf if anyone else had said it. But this was his brother, and he was happy for him.
Lo’ak smirked, realizing the trap he just led Neteyam in and giving his mental self a high-five.
Mission Accomplished.
Meanwhile, you were practically about to faint.
Your long time crush had just professed his love for you loud and proud.
And while you were over the moon with this news, Kiri’s I told you so face was starting to get on your nerves.
“C’mon. Let’s go before we get caught,” you whispered, getting ready to tip-toe away.
“You ladies can come in now!” Lo’ak cockily announced, you and Neteyam turning as pale as ghosts.
Shit.
...
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