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#as a poc it just tells me you don't care
cal-kestis · 4 months
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doing vibrant gif coloring does not give you license to whitewash/colorwash* POC!!!
if you need help, get a second-opinion on your gifset before posting (join a gifmaking network!) and pls reference these resources:
how to fix orange-washed characters by aubrey-plaza
the beginner's guide to channel mixer by aubrey-plaza
anti-whitewashing tutorial for pale & pastel gifs by fadenet
how to change the background of any gif by usergif (this will teach you how to change the background without affecting the person/character)
how to change the background color of a gif by eddiediaaz
good sharpening vs oversharpening by chikoriita (sharpening also affects skintones)
how to: colouring east & southeast asian celebs by blueshelp
guide to colouring yellow-tinted shots by ajusnice
poc-friendly psds masterlist by evansyhelp
my anime sharpening + coloring tips (bc whitewashing and colorwashing is rampant in anime too)
*colorwashing in gifmaking/editing terms = altering a person's skin tone to make it fit your "asethetic," often by making them look unnaturally red, yellow, pink, orange, etc.
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bijoumikhawal · 6 months
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People discussing Israel's racist policies and Israel's policy of fucking over non Rabbinic communities and fucking up the transmission of diaspora cultures (such as the teaching of languages) is not the time to go "we don't need gentiles in our intracommunity politics". Foundational to Israel is "maintaining a Jewish majority". These communities are attacked in lathe part because they are seen as not being as Jewish as White, Ashkie, Western European Jews (with respect to how Eastern European Jews are also often mistreated), or their Judaism is otherwise seen as deficient. The maintenance of this majority is also why Palestinians generally, cannot really get an Israeli citizenship, even if they wanted to, and sometimes even if they can prove they are of Jewish descent. "Who is a Jew and what is a Jewish culture" is a constructed boundary: for the past 70 odd years it has been a boundary used for violence. If you want anti-zionists to have politics informed by the needs of Jews, they must be party to these discussions.
#cipher talk#Also seeing a post like 'talking about racism in Israel feels bad bc it casts Ashkenazim as evil elites imo'#(Person saying this WAS white AFAIK and that's very funny given not all Ashkenazim are white- and most posts I've seen#Are made by Jews or POC focusing on whiteness more than 'Ashkienormativity')#Then seeing a post like 'I don't believe you care about Yiddish if you only use it to attack Hebrew >:(' is nuts#Which is it do 'gentiles' care too much about Ashkenazi culture and use it as a weapon or do they pick on them as the acceptable group of#'Bad jews' (as people like to put it)?#And ngl any white person pulling this right now definitely doesn't care that much about JOC normally. If they did they'd let them say when#They're uncomfortable lmao because thar is the point of reference you need when discussing racism here#Otherwise you're just doing the 'white person shuts down conversation about racism because they feel upset' thing that everyone does#Including gentiles. Including gentiles who belong to groups (like white Latinos white Irish and Scottish people etc) who have faced#Marginalisation discrimination and genocide#And if you as a white person aren't doing that that tells me you either don't care to pay attention or you don't talk to JOC#So you don't know when JOC are actually uncomfortable and a lime is being crossed#And that's pretty bad because there's quite a few Mizrahim who are aggressive Zionists lmao and would love for you to use them as shield
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emeryleewho · 8 months
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I keep seeing posts talking about the WGA/Sag-Aftra strike, which yes, good, but in all this "support writers" sentiment I'm seeing no one talk about book writers, which I think is something people should know more about right now.
We are at an all-time high for book bans, namely targeting queer & PoC-authored books. This means that a lot of schools and libraries are no longer stocking diverse YA books, and if you're not in publishing, you may not realize this but school & libraries are by far one of the biggest markets for diverse YA books.
This means that in 2023, YA book sales are down. This is also in part because Barnes & Noble (the largest physical book retailer in the U.S.) is no longer really stocking YA hardcovers. This means that marginalized authors and debut authors are struggling to sell books.
But it's a LOT worse than that. In the past couple of years, marginalized authors are *really* struggling to get new book deals. Most books are acquired by a publisher about 2 years before they release to the public, so this isn't all that noticeable yet, but a LOT of marginalized authors I've spoken to (myself included) have been unable to sell a new YA book since 2020. So while I had a book out last year, even if I sell one right now, you won't see it until 2025-2026. That's three to four years without a new release or the income I get from publishing those books.
On top of that, Big 5 publishers have started closing imprints (namely their diverse imprints) and have started telling their marginalized YA authors to just go. I've had multiple authors tell me their publisher basically said, "eh, we don't care to put in the work for you anymore. You can just go somewhere else". Of the authors who *are* getting offered new contracts, we're being offered pay far below the cost of living and we're being handed contracts that split our payments 4 or 5 ways and require we sign over our work to be used to train AI so they can replace us a few years down the road.
Authors are freelancers who own our IPs, which means we can't unionize the way Hollywood writers can, and despite authors showing up in droves to support HarperCollins employees when they went on strike for fair wages, we're being hung out to dry when it comes to our own rights.
If you enjoy diverse books, especially diverse YA, please understand that many of the authors you loved over the past 3-5 years are being forced out of the industry. We're being exploited, and we have no way to defend ourselves. Our books sales are drying up thanks to anti-queer legislation, our rights are being eaten up by AI, and our publishers are degrading us while profiting of us and refusing to share those profits with us.
Within the publishing industry, we've all been watching this decline happen over the last decade, but outside of it, I know most people have no idea what's going on so please spread the word. And if you care about diverse books especially in YA, please support marginalized authors in any way you can. The industry needs to be reminded that it needs us before we're all eliminated from it.
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decolonize-the-left · 1 month
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I saw your post about the leopards eating faces and democrats and if you think the us is bad under biden have a good look through project 2025 and please fucking realize that queer people, those that can get pregnant, and people of color are going to be absolutely fucked if trump wins in November.
Sigh
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If you ACTUALLY read it then you'd know Biden is ALREADY carrying out the goals outlined in project2025. You'd also know that his administration is even using the SAME exact language that's found in the Mandate for Leadership. Such as "protecting the freedom of navigation in the Suez Canal"
I literally have a post floating around somewhere where I said he was gonna escalate the genocide and smoke out all the rebel groups because guess what? Project2025 outlined that too. Literally listed them as targets that the administration should focus on.
Another part of it says they should continue to protect and support Israel's "right to defend itself" at any cost.
So yeah that thing you're afraid of? It's here. And it's here because you thought the fascist with a blue tie was less scary than a fascist than a red tie so you stopped paying attention when Blue Tie Man was around. And that blue Fascism that's allowing book bans and abortion bans and making trans people illegal is going to stay here and grow because you don't fucking care to address it unless the tie is red.
Maybe fucking read the thing you're trying to fearmonger me about because I guarantee I've read more of it than you.
And it's not that I find the realities in it less scary, it's that I'm not such a privileged shithead that I would prioritize my own comfort over lives being lost in a literal fucking genocide.
Yeah shit sucks for queer people and trans people and trust me, I know that, but we aren't being killed in broad fucking daylight and having people go into denial about it so maybe instead of barking up MY blog about how fucked up everything is you go and send the DNC and your representatives some emails and tell them to give Democrats a candidate that doesnt commit genocide?
How about instead of yelling at me to lower my standards cuz things MIGHT get scarier for you if Blue Tie Man doesn't beat trump (and he won't) you ACCEPT that reality and DO SOMETHING USEFUL about it. How about you and your party just BE BETTER????
There's seven months before the elections and Biden is tanking every poll and Democrats are voting uncommited in swing states and what's Biden doing? Doubling down on every single policy that he's losing voters over (like supporting Israel). If he loses that's not my fault or anyone else's.
Maybe stop asking people to vote for a warmongering white supremacist.
"think of the queers and pregnant people and PoC"
I Am.
They live in Palestine and Sudan and the DRC.
Or did you mean I should prioritize different queers and pregnant people and PoC?
Don't be shy. Did you mean I should prioritize you?
Cuz yeah. Fuck that.
(white) USamerican citizens prioritizing ourselves over everyone else is exactly how the world got so fucked up.
I'm NOT voting for Biden under any fucking circumstances, don't waste my time with another bullshit uninformed scare mongering ask like this again just cuz YOU lack the solidarity to care about any community but your own.
The fuck?
Do you think the queer community only counts Americans? What an ignorant thing to say. "Think of minority communites but only from this specific part of the world"
You wouldn't know community if it hit you in the fucking face.
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luv444bellingham · 2 months
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ONE OF YOUR GIRLS . // jude bellingham.
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PARING. poc!reader x situationship!jude.
IN WHICH. she tries to get him jealous, but he snaps harder than she predicted.
WARNING. unprotected sex, poc reader, dirty talk, hair pulling, praising, public bathroom sex, porn with a plot, and more. (my big debut yall,,)
WORDS. 1.4k
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heart racing, she picked up the drink the stranger offered her— taking quick side glances at the tall frame in the corner. Her and jude had gotten into an argument back in the car, and she couldn’t help but feel petty wanting to piss him off.
What really was pissing her off was that, currently, he wasn’t even looking their way. She took a sip of the alcoholic beverage and leaned in closer to the man. He looked to be around her age, but he wasn’t nearly as kept up and good looking as jude. He droned on and on about his car dealership and the amount of money he spent on his own vehicle, never bothering to ask anything about her.
no matter. she just wanted jude’s attention.
she rubbed her fingers up and down his bicep as he spoke with a smirk, casting another glance toward the corner about a minute later she bit the inside of her cheek catching the sly glance he took toward her, he was playing her game, she wasn’t finna loose.
still, watching him rub up on some white girl got her all riled up and irritated, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to keep playing.
“Why don’t we go back to your car?” She whispered softly, placing her glass down on the counter, “you sure?” nodding her head they both rose from their seats and began to pivot through the crowd when her eyes stopped on jude’s frame, feeling up on the girl’s ass as they locked lips.
She wanted to go over there and slap the bitch but decided against it, instead she shouted — “i have to use the bathroom,” over the loud music that was now playing. She just needed to find an excuse to break from the man and go gather herself privately. Perhaps stop herself from committing a murder.
entering the restroom she dug in her purse to retrieve her phone with an aggravated expression on her face, the door flew open making her phone fall from her hand which only added to her annoyance, “what the hell,”
“My bad, mama.” Rolling her eyes she bent over to grab her phone and face a smirking jude. His eyes roamed her figure and face, “what, you started it!”
"I don't care, let me out—" he grabbed her waist, pushing her back against the sink, "don't be like that." He whispered against her neck as he leaned into her. It was clear how drunk he was now, his sluggish speech and that subtle smell of vodka. She rolled her eyes, gripping his shoulders as she allowed herself to be placed against the edge of the sink.
he whispered the lyrics of the song playing as he brushed soft kisses against her skin, stopping to nibble against her shoulder and grip her thighs. Her skin flushed as she realized she was getting the attention she’d been after the whole night. Everything else went out the window, including the reason she was mad in the first place.
“You mad at me?” He chuckled to himself, moving down to her exposed cleavage. His lips parted as he pulled the front of her dress down flicking her nipple with his thumb eliciting a shiver from the other — “shut up,” she demanded and he smiled, “yes ma’am.”
His tongue drew a shape over her left boob as his continued to massage the other, eyes looking up as she leaned her head back against the mirror, swallowing thickly. His fingers rubbed up and down her leg teasingly, stopping just below the bottom of her dress. despite his seemingly unbothered expression, he wanted nothing more than to tear her out of it.
he would. Just not now.
“spread your legs fa’ me.” She obliged, parting her thighs rather quickly, moving gently against his fingers as they snaked up closer to her pussy. She couldn’t wait any more, and he could tell she was growing impatient with him, just like she’d been irritated with him just a few minutes ago. He would make it up to her.
Jude’s thumb circled her clit as his lips engulfed hers, tongues fighting for dominance. She arched off the sink as he pushed one finger into her wetness. She wanted to ask him for more, but wasn’t gonna make him think he was forgiven.
his finger entered in and out of her at a faster pace as her slick acted as a lubricant, she gripped the edges of the sink when he added one more finger, his thumb prodding her cunt to no end. She bit her lip as a wave of pleasure washed over her and she let out an accidental whimper.
“Hmm, get up.” Jude kissed her cheek as she hopped up, he turned her around so that she could see herself in the mirror, disheveled and needy— his hands went up to her boobs again as he began to knead them desperately.
Her boobs were one of his favorite things about her, how they seemed to spill out of any top she wore, how pretty they sat. He had a fixation on just playing with them any chance he got. Worshipping her.
he finally went back to rubbing her dripping pussy other hand holding her chin to make sure she didn’t stop watching herself.
“that feel good, hm?” she slowly nodded, whimpering at the sudden loss of his digits again— however as she heard the jingle of his belt, she was more than happy.
He bent her over the sink hearing her hum softly at the cold of the sink pressing up against her front side. She played with her hardened nipple as his fisted his dick for a few seconds, before teasing her entrance. “You can take it can’t you— this is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
Her lips parted as his tip pressed teasingly against her hole, “fuck,” he slowly entered her from behind, his hands on her hair moving her back against his cock.
“C’mon ma, help me out.” He grunted.
She arched her back, her breath quivering as she struggled to take him all despite initial confidence.
he lifted her head so she could watch herself as he pounded into her at a steady pace. Being with a football player continuously paid off. He could last quite a while, and wouldn’t stop until he knew she felt good.
“Watch yourself, baby, while you take me.” Her eyes fluttered open as she came close to finishing just at the sight of him watching himself disappear inside her.
Her moans found their place at the back of her throat, practically choking her as he slammed into her. It was bizarre; the groans and the peculiar sound of skin clashing mixed with the music playing in the party that was literally right outside the door . The world seemed to move around them, but time stood still every time he hit that particular spot, the one that made her toes curl and her eyes roll back. 
“Jude,” she whined and moaned, almost like a plea. He responded with a grunt of his own, manhandling her as he felt her cunt clench around him. He guided her hips back against him quicker, the steady sound of skin clapping growing louder as each got closer and closer to finish.
she pushed herself back against him as he stopped for a second to clench his jaw and reposition, jude clicked his tongue quietly and without even looking up at their reflection, she knew there was a half smirk tugging at his lips. “Dirty girl.”
“Yeah, that’s it, good girl, taking me so well.” She heard jude babbling further words of praise behind her, but her mind wasn’t focusing, too wrapped in the pleasure that was filling her body, threatening to spill. The noises jude was making only seemed to prolong the aftershocks of her orgasm, his soft whimpers and grunts only making her pussy ache even more despite how sensitive she was riding out her finish as her juices squirted out of her. She was certain this wasn’t a one round kind of night, and feared for when they actually got home.
He fucked his cock into her a few more times before his hips stilled, pressed flush to her ass as he came, painting her insides it filling her up so much it was already leaking from her. His forehead thudded heavily against her back, quiet whimpers filling the bathroom as his cock pulsed. He shifted his hips and she whined, clenching around him purposefully, wanting him to fill her.
“Better now?”
“Fuck you.”
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k3n-dyll · 1 month
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maybe because not everyone has to cater to black and brown readers? if i feel excluded then talk to ur black and brown writers bc why tf would (for ex.) white writers write black readers when…when they aren’t?? yall aren’t victims write ur own shit if u care so much like idk what to tell u but not everyone has to bow down and write the way you want them too.
The fact that this is what you got from me saying that POC feel excluded from fandom is...insane.
I hesitate to even answer this because you sound stupid as hell, but since I think other people need to get this shit through their skulls as well:
If you are a writer, and you claim to be writing an "x reader" fanfic for a character you like, the general consensus is that "reader" in this situation should be neutral for the most part. Sure, there's different versions of that ( "x fem reader", "x masc reader", etc.") , but generally, the idea is that "reader" in this situation could be anyone, yes? A lot of writers on this app and others, write "reader" as if tiny white women are the default.
And you know what?
If you wanna write that way, fine, but say that. If you so desprately want to write about Abby Anderson fucking a 5ft nothing white girl with blonde hair and green eyes - write that. But don't call that shit an "x reader" when you know its a self insert meant to exclude everybody that doesnt look like you. Dont claim to be a safe place for all readers if when POC say they feel excluded from the things you write, you say stupid shit like what this anon just did. If your shit is labeled "x reader" with no other warnings, one should be able to assume that they arent going to see any specifics about body type, hair textures, skin color or eye color - but no. Thats not the case.
I swear, every time we bring this shit up you bitches act like we killed your fucking grandma. If you dont wanna write in a way that everyone can consume, fine, but dont make it seem as if petite white girls are just the default human in every scenario. Theres a content warning over every fic, if you dont want to see how problematic it is to write as if whiteness is the default then the least you could do it leave a big fat warning in that little "CW" section to let us know that you didnt write this with the existence of people that dont look like you in mind.
Oh, and I do write my own stuff btw. Don't ever come in my inbox with this bullshit again. Pissing me off first thing in the morning😒
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dykeomania · 4 months
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lovergirl!hazel headcanons
。.。 just some evidence of a love that transcends hunger, tbh.
a/n: i needed a break from writing a fic and wanted to write something sappy. this is the something sappy in question. wanted it to give how-you-become-hazel's-lover -> what she does when you're actually her lover vibe but it just got real mushy. i like it. i hope you like it, too. proofread, but i'm blind as fuck + i'm rusty, so.
tags: gender neutral (i think. i may have fucked up once or twice. please correct me if i did, i proofread fr fr over time. not intended for cis men), body neutral, and poc friendly. some niche reader things (tarot mention, reader wears makeup). mild nsfw -- kissing, making out, heavy petting. almost third base. starts in high school, ends in college.
practice fanfic etiquette. please don't plagiarize or repost my stuff.
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ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who sits up straight on the edge of your bathtub and looks up at you in complete awe when you're getting ready. she's got the dumbest, most lovesick puppy look in her eyes as she watches her lover line her lips, and apply a sheer coat of gloss on top. when they turn around to ask if it's even, hazel smiles so wide that it makes the apples of her cheeks sore.
she doesn't really know if it looks okay, she just knows that she wants to kiss you.
she only manages an mhm because it's what you want from her and, well.. at this point, hazel's convinced that she'd drop just about everything to give whatever you want.
you snicker, closing the space between you in slow and steady strides. "what are you looking at, huh?" you teases, grin stretched across lips lined nude, gleaming pink.
"mmm..." hazel can't help but like, drunklenly (she's dead sober).. haphazardly loop you in by the belt loop, head tilting easily to the right. "yyyyyou."
her eyes droop as she falls victim to the familiar spell that you cast over her. one that starts with you taking her face in her hands, and bringing yourself close enough for to take in all at once. she's made dizzy by the smell of your conditioner, made defenseless by the familiar trace of your body wash radiating off of your skin.
"what're you looking at me for?" you grin, your hands hot on her cheeks as you stand between her legs.
"why wouldn't i wanna look at you?" hazel gently manages, hand finding comfortable purchase on your hips. she grips gently with admiration, fingertips pressing into sacred flesh of something, someone, who she couldn't believe is hers. "you're just so pretty."
but let's take a few steps back first,
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who meets you purely by coincidence. you don't go to fight club, and you don't do cheer. you don't have any classes together, you hardly even know of each other. you do, however, have to work concessions for football together one night.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who doesn't talk much, and honestly standing next to you feels kinda stupid with the bruise that she has on her cheek. she usually never really cares and she's usually super talkative -- she doesn't talk much because well.. she doesn't really know.. how to. how to talk to pretty people -- well, it's not like she finds you pretty, it's just.. anyways,
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who makes some dumb joke about athletes and you kind of snort.. and she's immediately charmed. hazel callahan who has a desire to keep you entertained, and continues to do so throughout the remainder of the game.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who actually is in your class, but, neither of you just really noticed. hazel callahan who sits next to you in the weeks following. who spends her free periods with you. who eats lunch with you. who eventually gets around to telling you about fight club, over turkey and rye sandwiches.
"so you just, like..." you take a break from chewing, tonguing some bread out of your back molar. "punch the shit out of each other, and it's school-sponsored?"
"...well, yeah. but in like a self-defense, queer way. bring people together, create some solidarity. a safe-space on campus for queer community, kind of thing."
"oh okay, so like, in a slay way," you revise.
hazel stares. scoffing out a gentle laugh. "uh... yeah.." hazel furrows her brows, shaking her head. "um.. what does that.. what does that, like, mean?"
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who becomes your best friend.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who really likes you. like, as a person.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who likes you maybe a little bit too much.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who doesn't know how to embroider, so when you embroidered her converse -- creating a wreath of vines, speckled with bright little flowers around the all star symbol -- she was so happy. but she felt so bad because she didn't know how to repay you.
"let me make it up to you?" she insists, fingers playing with your own, but not creating enough distraction to prevent you from protesting.
"what?" you scoff, subconsciously locking her hands with yours, as though you're about to declare a thumb war. "no, how?"
"i don't know! this is so nice, let me like..." hazel shrugs voice dropping timidly, "..take you out or something."
a beat passes, one that feels like forever. a large enough one to create space for all the butterflies to rumble around both of your stomachs, and for the elephant to pass through the room. hazel can't tell if it's your hand that's begun to sweat in your grasp, or if it's hers.
your eyes narrow at her, grin stretched into something cheshire as you shake your hand, and hers. "i think you just wanna take me out on a date."
hazel smiles sheepishly, cheeks flushing a bright flamingo. she shrugs, next words quiet and intentional,
"so what if i do?"
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan doesn't know how to embroider but she does have an eye for wildflowers. when the girl who shows up at your doorstep, it's with a dorky smile, a batch of spring, and a bandaid wrapped around her index finger and her thumb. the flowers that she biked about an hour north to pluck -- from a field she discovered after having simply gone too far -- are bunched together and wrapped in a trader joe's paper bag, the kind that her mom always leaves in the kitchen under the sink. she put the boquet together herself. spent too much time thinking about whether or not you would like the arrangement or the colors, probably went to the store to grab a few of your favorite flowers that she couldn't find.
"oh, these are for you. see, i tried to make this whole thing, like.. semi.. transactional. again, like, i don't really know how to embroider flowers, or like anything really, so... these were next best thing, i guess." she offers, as though it's nothing.
"you look.. really nice." hazel's eyes linger, stricken and dumb. she fills her lungs with air, huffing out her next sentence. "are yoooouuu.. ready to go?"
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who thinks that star signs mean nothing, and doesn't know jackshit about crystals or anything of the like. but hazel callahan who is all eyes and ears, criss-cross-apple-sauce with you on her floor, as she watches you knock your knuckles on a deck of tarot cards and shuffle through them for what you called a "semi unreliable, two-card reading."
hazel callahan who jumps a little when two cards fly out from the deck. who furrows her eyebrows when you turn the over. an the lovers and two of cups, both upright.
"what..." she snorts. "what does that mean?"
"um.." she watches you blush. "it means.." and she blushes when your eyes linger on hers, and then look up. feels her stomach flutter when she watches you take a deep breath in through your nose, like you're shuffling through all of the words in your head.
"...let's just saaaaayyyy... nnnew connections might be coming your way, soon."
hazel has no fucking idea what that means, looking at you, she surely could hope that that's true.
...
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who is shocked that you want to like.. have a sleepover with her. this doesn't really happen to her. like at all. but it's happening with you, so she's down.. but it has to be planned. hazel callahan pulls out all the stops to try to make sure that it's.. well, perfect, she guesses? she makes sure that it's on a weekend where her mom is out of town (not even because she wants to do anything but you know how her mom is). she asks you what all of your favorite snacks are beforehand, and offers to go get more if you run out. she makes sure that you have satin pillowcases if you have textured hair, just in case you forget a bonnet, or anything. probably does that regardless of whether or not that's applicable to you, because she hears it's better for your skin and what not. she gets a weighted blanket for you and some extra pillows + takes out an extra throw if she knows that you get cold easily, or damn near strips her bed down to just one comforter and gets a desk fan to face her bed if she knows that you get too hot.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who you create a shared movie list with, and who will sit with you and watch all of your favorite movies. all of your least favorite movies. will watch movies that you insist that she must see and will do so with very little fight because it's whatever you want, really. hazel callahan who is very quickly realizing that she would do whatever you wanted, as long as it meant that it got you to smile.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 (hazel callahan who, granted, talks through a lot of those fucking movies. like. hazel callahan who has a really fucking hard time paying attention to movies.)
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who clearly has overthought everything. who laughs at and understands all of your dumb jokes and is always a little shocked when you laugh at hers. who lets you rest your head on her shoulder when you watch movies in her home-theater. who lays with you in her bed and compares your tiktok for you page with hers and finds it a little too easy to poke fun of you. finds it not as easy to remain calm when your head rests comfortably on her chest, and thus hopes to god that all of the cringy tiktok audios are masking the sound of her heart beating out of her chest.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who looks at you when you mention that it's getting late, and insists that there's a guest room if you wanna sleep in there, or an air mattress that she was supposed to blow up.
"it's too late for that, though." you frown.
"no," hazel, being hazel, is quick to reassure, shaking her head. "no, no, i could totally blow it up. we have an automated pump, it'll take like 20 minutes."
"mm, i don't know, it's still kinda late for all of that..."
hazel blinks at you. her eyebrows raise, corners of her lips gently upturning. "okay. i mean, do you wanna take the guest room?"
you look up at her, eyes big on purpose. "that guest room's kinda scary." you lift a brow. "it's dark. and cold."
hazel thinks she might.. be tripping. she has to be. her blink is slow, and her face knots together, and releases -- the way it does when she gets all timid and indecisive. "o..kay..." she grins nonetheless, furrowing her eyebrows. "so then .. where are you gonna sleep?"
"..i mean.." you burn, and so does she. "...i could just sleep here with you?"
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who can't help but feel girlish and vulnerable laying in her bed with you, her stomach tied in knots over how there is nothing usual about this situation. fully seeing you in your pajamas. feeling the gentle flesh of your bare calves rub against hers. being within such close proximity of you that she can still smell the lingering remnants of soap on your skin from your shower.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who dares to let her finger dance on your upper bicep, but that's just about it, really.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who only nudges closer only when you nudge closer. who only lowers her voice, when you lower your voice. who only holds eye contact when you start it, but is always the first to look away.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who falls into a trap: eye contact held after some conversation that did not, and does not matter. she follows your eyes down, chocolate eyes focusing on the arch of your cupids bow. she does tilt her head up to find her nose nudging softly against the underside of yours. she doesn't know how you two got this close. hazel callahan who feels her hands grow sweaty, feeling your breath linger over her the chap of her lips. who nearly stiffens when she feels your hand press into her back, but instead arches into the crevice your body makes and presses her palm against your hip.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who does what she thinks she's supposed to do, and kisses you -- soft and gentle, like the whispers that fluttered over both of your lips earlier. brief, and endearing.
her lips stick to yours, and then her lips press into yours. and then her lips open when yours do, and her hand tightens on you when yours does.
ღ*��∞:。.。 hazel callahan who has no fucking idea what she's doing. like, seriously. she kind of knows -- i mean, okay, yeah, she knows how to kiss, but this is, like.. not just a kiss. hazel's kisses are brief. gentle, maybe a little slow. never this deep. hazel callahan who forgets herself when her fingers weave through your hair. hazel callahan who doesn't recognize the way her breath shakes in your throat when your fingers ambitiously sift through her thick, black locks and pull.
hazel callahan whose lips slot over yours, and unlock. who leans forward when you lean back, and is almost nearly on top of you.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who doesn't know what to do with her hand, so she puts it everywhere. glides it over your side, presses it over the expanse of your lower back. who smooths her hand under your shirt and marvels in the way your skin burns against her palm. who itches to explore, traversing over your stomach, venturing up, up, and up--
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who stops dead in her tracks when you hum something sour in her mouth and grab her wrist. who looks at you stunned with parted lips as you softly shake your head against hers.
"not yet," you pant, opening your eyes to look at her. "not yet."
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who bats her lashes, dizzy with affection yet sobered from your action. she knows how you sound. not like you're rejecting her, but like you're admitting something, which you.. might be. something that she understands. regardless, she understands.
but she burns bright with embarrassment, stomach rattling with a guilt that crawls up her throat and wraps around it, tightening and tightening...
"yeah," she manages a whispers after a while. somehow, it's still raspy. "yeah, okay.."
"okay.."
"...m'sorry--"
"don't be," you shake your head. "keep kissing me."
you rush, and it's kind of just in time. whatever stinging was lingering in her chest subsides as you bring yourself closer, lips softly capturing her lower lip in affirmation after hazel just stares at you.
hazel callahan who blinks, oscillating between consciences, dazed and a little confused. she's cautious and readjusted, her hand only lingering over your side as she whispers a faint "are you sure..?"
the sentence dissolves when on the tip of hazel's tongue when her lips find yours again, at your action, which is her answer. hazel callahan who listens. who lets you take her hand and place it somewhere that feels more comfortable, somewhere that's right and yet still sensual.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who is wiped, but intentional with every kiss that either you or her leads, every swipe of her lips over your jaw, every tender kiss that you let her place against the stretch of your neck.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who will admire within her bounds. kissing you, and drowning in you until she is simply too sleepy to continue. until she is dizzy and feels comfortable enough to nuzzle her face somewhere into the crook of you, breathing you in until you become a part of her dreams,
and she will wake -- in the morning, and in the middle of the night -- only to have a hard time believing that she isn't still dreaming.
...
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who kind of has to get used to.. all of it. who crushes, even though she's already "achieved," so to speak. who grins at her phone when she's texted, who finds any excuse to facetime you and keep you on the line -- sometimes just so that she can look at you. who finds any excuse to be around you.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who you can't get rid of once you go both go to college. who facetimes you whenever, who visits you on weekends. who comes into your space and steals all of your sweatshirts and your pajama pants and of course, all of your spare time.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel "no, i can make that for you" callahan who can't embroider, but can crochet. she will buy you that jellycat that you really want, a hundred percent. hazel callahan will also greet you with a fucked up rendition of said stuffed animal that you wanted (giving jamdog, perhaps) and furrows her eyebrows when you have to hide your laugh with your hand.
"what?" she asks, grin dulling only for a moment. "do you not like it?"
"no it's--" you cover your mouth. "it's perfect." you cackle. when you cup her cheeks, all the worry and fear of judgement fades. sort of. at least enough. "you're perfect, babe. i love it."
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who does, in fact, keep a picture in her wallet of her lover, ready at all times. hazel callahan who weaves her lover into casual conversation.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who still doesn't really understand figure of speech all that well so when you say things like "i wish you could just come over," she literally goes "..well like, i could,"
and then proceeds to make like, a three hour drive.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who keeps the picture that you hate of yourself as her lockscreen and it's not to spite you, it's because she thinks you're beautiful, and she has no idea what you're talking about.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who figures out what names you like to be called by throwing everything at a wall and seeing that sticks. pretty. handsome. lover. angel. baby. and when she does find one, one that makes you blush just about as hard as she does every time you even look in her direction, she holds it over your head to high heavens. makes it your contact name. uses it to punctuate reassuring sentences, when she greets you, when she tells you goodnight.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who gets to take you on real dates, and gets excited to. who gets giddy when you get ready. who gets to fix your hair and come up behind you when you take mirror selfies once you're finished. who now feels comfortable enough to place her hands at the mid-point of your waist and let them venture toward your frontside while she rests her chin on your shoulder, and leans in to kiss your cheek. who tells you you smell nice, and makes you smile when she buries her face into some part of you and literally just goes rahhhh!!!!
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who is also stuck sometimes, in moment such as these, watching the wonder who she has had a crush on since high school -- jesus, has it really been that long? -- with gentle eyes and a completely disarmed disposition.
hazel callahan who is honestly such a fucking loser -- like, literally, loser-since-birth, no-hope-since-middle-school, gay-haircut-and-new-repotoire-can't-save-you, loser, and can't help but ponder and marvel over how someone like you is in her hands. in her face. in her life.
"m'not that pretty," you insist, fingers weaving through her hair, nails etching at hazel's scalp in a way that hazel has grown to like. love, even.
her eyes flicker over your face, smile lopsided and eyes heavy like despite everything, you don't even know the half of it. she scoffs, voice hardly above a whisper,
"yeah no, you are so much more than pretty."
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andersonlore · 6 months
Note
BEGGING for more milf!reader x sub!abby 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 please please PLEASE 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️ (maybe with a lil bit of a breeding kink if you’re into that) take your time love <33
†⠀❝ HEART TO HEART II ❞ ✶ ABBY ANDERSON !
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"YOUNGER!ABBY HEADCANNONS"
★⠀warning y disclaimers — eighteen+, nsfw content, wlw, fem!reader, age gap vague, abby is early twenties, younger!abby, uhal!lesbian vibe, mommy!kink, tw breeding kink, reader has a kid, dom!reader, sub!abby, strap (abby!), oral (abby!r), fingering (abby!r), poc!friendly, nipple play, reader is a mom.
RAYNE RAMBLES ★ thank u so much sweet angel for asking so sweetly. this has teken me longer than intended, but better late than never, right? breeding kink? are u kidding? now, ur speaking my language. hope this is as lovely as you are. if you like, don't forget to reblog!
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younger!abby who can't stop thinking of the first night she spends with you.
younger!abby who can't get your addicting moans out of her head. they play on an endless loop in her mind and she wants to keep them there forever.
younger!abby who swears, even if it's only been one lovely night, she swears she about to tip over the line of love.
younger!abby who never had been manhandled until that very night with you.
Abby thought she was in control - she should've known better. It taken only a moment for your firm hands gripping her hips, maneuvering her weight until you were on top of her.
"It's all for show, huh? These perfectly sculpted arms, your chiseled abs, and don't even get me started on this face. I bet all the girls just fall at your feet."
younger!abby who blushed even more, unable to contain her reaction at each compliment rolling off your tongue.
younger!abby who wanted to tell you there wasn't other girls, but the words died on her tongue when you dragged her into the bedroom.
younger!abby who moaned softly when you played with the end of her braid, your fingers smoothing over the blonde strands.
younger!abby likes the fact you had managed to pull at what she loves most the first night in.
younger!abby who can't help the bubbling feeling in the pit of her stomach as you look at her with those goddamn eyes of yours. you were more breathtaking than should be allowed.
younger!abby who watches with a careful eye as you stepped away from her body, shoving your dress until it pools at your feet.
younger!abby who can't help put purr at you, everything on display for her greedy eyes.
younger!abby is infatuated and absolutely lost for words as she looks at you.
younger!abby who can't believe how sexy you are and can't believe you, a descendent from Aphrodite herself, could want her.
younger!abby whose heart stops as you don't walk to her. No. Not yet - you're walking to your night stand.
younger!abby tries to keep her breathing under control as you bring out the strap.
younger!abby who can't help but feel her heart beating out of her chest.
"We don't have to do this you know. If you don't like being fucked like this, I can always put my mouth to good use." You offer, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable. Abby loves how your soft voice carries across the room. The need she has for you only grows, begging for a taste.
younger!abby who feels your sweetness pull at her heart.
younger!abby who nods simply, but you don't take it as a sufficient response.
"If you want me to fuck you, you're going to have to say it, angel. Need to hear you say it."
younger!abby who fumbles the words past her lips as she's unable to take her eyes of you, but she manages to get it out.
younger!abby who feels the slick grow in between her thighs as she watches you put the strap on.
younger!abby who can't remember a time she felt this overwhelmed.
younger!abby who can't help but rub her thick thighs together in anticipation.
younger!abby who notices the smirk on your face and just how much you're enjoying teasing her.
younger!abby can only register a soft 'gotta work you open baby' and her boxers are gone.
younger!abby who usually doesn't like to be put on display like this, can't help but feel treasured as you look at her in awe.
younger!abby who loses it the moment she feels your teeth sink in her thighs, littering the punctured skin with sweet kisses.
younger!abby who doesn't know what to do with herself when all of your undivided attention is upon her.
younger!abby loves the way you have her thighs spread out, your body between them and there's no hesitation.
younger!abby who bucks her hips upwards as you give her everything she's been thinking about.
younger!abby who feels a shiver run up her spine as your tongue plays with your vulva, before flattening the muscle against your cunt.
younger!abby who tries to close her thighs around your head, but you won't let her.
"You have to keep this thick thighs open for me, baby. How else am I supposed to fuck this perfect cunt?"
younger!abby who could easily, physically over power you, but can't even imagine doing so. not when you're making her feel this good.
"If you need something to grab onto just pull on my hair." Stopping for a moment, you grab her big hands and Abby makes a makeshift ponytail, as suck on her clit.
younger!abby wonders how she has ever existed without you.
younger!abby loves you mouth, and every moan you let out as you fuck her pussy with her mouth.
younger!abby can't get get over the vibrations she feels and how you hump into the bed every time abby pulls your hair a little too hard.
younger!abby knows for a fact, she's only ever been vocal with you.
younger!abby feels her cunt gripping onto your fingers as you sink two fingers into her, and she can hear just how wet you've gotten her.
younger!abby who can't stop moaning at the feeling of your fingers fucking her and the louder she gets, the better you make her feel.
younger!abby can feel just how close she is, but then you remove your fingers and she feels empty.
younger!abby certainly can't control the whine she lets out. it's needy and carnal - it even hurts her throat a little but she really doesn't care.
"You're lucky my kid is a heavy sleeper, Abs. Or else, I'd have to punish you for it."
younger!abby who tried to at least appear guilty, but it's so hard when the only coherent thought in her mind is wanting to fuck your mouth.
younger!abby knows all she wants to feel is you, and now that you're depriving her of the need it feel like an unbearable weight to hold.
younger!abby who throws her head back when you start sinking your cock into her tight pussy.
younger!abby who feels so full with you inside her. she's trying to hold her moans in with your comment, but your first thrust pulls it right out of her.
younger!abby who is never the one who gets fucked, revels in how good it feels. knowing you wanted to fuck her already had sent her over the edge but god - you really knew how to fuck.
younger!abby who cries out your name as you pick up the pace, your cock hitting her in just the place she needs.
younger!abby who never wants you to stop, she always will crave to feel this forever. she doesn't care if it's dramatic, but you're taking care of her like no one else ever has.
"You're so loud for me. Aren't you?" You chuckle as Abby moans. "Sweet baby, never had her pussy fucked this good. All those stupid, young girls can't give you what mommy can, huh?"
"No, never like this - never this good." Abby swears as you lift, bending her leg over your shoulder, making her cock hit her even deeper. The place all her girlfriends never touched.
younger!abby whose eyes roll into the back of her head, unable to compute with pleasure you're giving her.
younger!abby nearly comes when the next sentence falls from your plump lips.
"Want to put a baby in you, Abs. God, you'd look so pretty." Your pace increasing, if it was even possible. "Would fuck all day and all night if that's what it took."
younger!abby knows it should've scared her off, but all she wants is to please you. nothing could stop the way her cunt grips on your cock like a vice.
"Anything for you. Need you to fill me up." Abby can't help but capturing your nipple in her mouth, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh she sucks."
"Give it to me, Mommy."
younger!abby knows it's all you need before the friction of the strap is too much and you're coming along with her.
younger!abby feels herself falling as you cleans the two of you up, before she holds her.
younger!abby feels safe and she never wants this feeling to escape her.
younger!abby also can't wait until you break her brain and fuck her into oblivion again.
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qqueenofhades · 2 months
Note
what's been particularly vile to me is this group of white online leftists who insist that anyone who cares about more than this one issue for the election is a bad person, like, as if us black and brown people are making up reasons to be afraid and not.....believing the gop when they say they are coming for us. believing trump who has said previously that he does not bluff, that he will do the things he's said he will do (i hate what social media has gone to the word gaslighting but it feels like gaslighting. we lived through four years of trump. we saw the damage. stop treating us like we're being dramatic). it must be great to not have to worry about that i guess? "life won't change under trump" is such a telling admission because maybe theirs won't but mine will. and so many others' will.
and it is often again these (white) online leftists that love to call anyone who disagrees with them a white liberal (derogatory) because they know it would be racist (bad) to be this shitty and condescending to poc but they don't want to actually listen to anything black and brown voters are saying. it's easier to just call us white liberals and throw our opinions out, to ignore the work of black people for decades to gain the right to vote, to disregard the weight of telling them to not do that. it's genuinely appalling. they care so much about racism until it's time to engage with poc who have different opinions than their online echo chambers, then we're just stupid liberals with terrible opinions like..... wanting to live. not wanting four more years of trump. so sorry for that.
sorry for this vent in your inbox, i'm just so fucking tired of white people trying to rewrite history as if trump wasn't that bad. he was for my family and countless others and i am terrified for what's to come if he wins.
The thing about (the often-white) Online Leftists is that they have become just as much as a radicalized death cult as the diehard Trumpists. If you don't want to die for The Revolution and/or sacrifice your life, friends, family, the rest of the country, etc., then you're Insufficiently Pure and must be Purged. (Which I think is just complete BS, as none of them could actually handle sacrificing anything, but it's increasingly the only kind of performative rhetoric that is acceptable in leftist-identified discourse spaces.) This is functionally identical to "if you aren't willing to lay down your life for our Lord and Savior Donald Trump and the Great White Christian Nationalist Dictatorship, you're a liberal cuck," but with the names and justification changed. It doesn't change the underlying radicalization, nihilism, and insanity of the premise.
Another thing the Trumpists and the Online Leftists have in common is that they are busily rewriting just how bad Trump was in order to serve their Ideology. Ever since January 6, 2021, the Republicans have thrown everything they have at revising and whitewashing any suggestion that it was an "insurrection," and the Online Leftists have done the same, in an attempt to "prove" their insane point that Trump "would be better" than Biden. This is embodied in the recent ultimate-brainworm-nonsense maximalist-online take that "Biden has to lose so the rest of the world will see that the US rejects genocide!!!" That's right, the message that the rest of the world would take from Biden losing to Trump is that the US rejects genocide. Never mind if Trump literally wants to commit all the genocide possible and to install himself as a fascist theocratic dictator. In the deeply twisted minds of the Online Leftists, this is the only possible interpretation of Biden's loss, so they'll push for it as hard as they can! The Trumpists and the Online Leftists, at this point, are working pretty much in concert to damage Biden for similar insane reasons and get Trump elected. Etc etc., one Nazi and ten people at the same table is eleven Nazis.
Like. Sure. Four years ago, when Trump was president and people were dying by the thousands because he didn't want to wear a mask because it smeared his bronzer, just to name literally one of the terrible things he did every single day (and not even mentioning how much worse a second term would be) we were absolutely better off. Super-duper great. (Sarcasm.) Either that or "there is suffering and evil in the world and the only solution is to drastically increase the suffering and evil for everyone and to destroy what progress we have managed to make because It Does Not Fix Everything Now" is an absolute moral imperative, and either way, yeah. I'm calling bullshit.
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aphroditesmoon · 4 months
Text
you go back to the old house, but you've been locked out
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jacaerys velaryon/strong x fem!reader (modern!au)
summary: when your boyfriend finds out that you have never celebrated christmas before, he invites you to have your first with his family.
warnings: *do not read if you have any of the triggers* artist!reader, poc coded reader, depictions of mental illnesses, domestic abuse, physical abuse, mentions of suicide attempts, mentions of ED, mostly fluff, NSFW (SMUT! MINORS DNI!!), blackcat!reader and goldenretriever!jace, only rhaenyra's children with harwin exists in this au, title and fic inspired by There must be more than blood by Car Seat Headrest.
wc: 17.4K
a/n: this is for my babies who think they're unlovable of some sort, you are not too much or not enough, and you are completely lovable and you will find the rght kind of love for you one day.
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When you first told Jacaerys that you have never actually celebrated Christmas before, you didn't think it would pull out such an intense reaction.
You've been dating him for about 4 months now, the two of you agreed to take things slow under your request, but by this point, you both have grown comfortable enough around each other to move forwards past the small talk stage.
And it is in these moments that you genuinely wonder if all the new small details and information about yourself that you had initially held from him before would cause any issues within the relationship. For example, the fact that you've never celebrated Christmas, or how you have an antipathy for your birthday and double dates. You also don't believe in celebrating annual anniversaries.
In the second month of your relationship with Jace, you discovered how important anniversaries were to him and it was an honestly amusing idea to you. But after you noticed how disappointed he was to find out that you didn't care for the special day, you decided to let his predilection for it prevail.
Plus it was just like having an extra special date every month that you didn't have to pay for, what's the harm in that?
Upon finding out that Christmas was a foreign concept to you, he asks you if it was a religion thing at first. You weren't particularly religious, nor are you against it in any way, then he asked you if it had anything to do with the whitewashing of Jesus Christ. You laughed until you realized he was serious.
"No, it's nothing to do with the whitewashing of Jesus of Nazareth." He raised a brow in suspicion. "Are you sure? Cause if it is then I fully support you." You smiled and him and shook your head in assurance. "I've just never celebrated it for some reason."
"But why?" He asked again, pushing for a good answer. Jace loved christmas, that one was easy to tell. You're just not sure if it's because he had strong family values and loved spending time with his family or because he really loved gifts and knew that he'd get good ones every year thanks to the fact that he is rich.
"My family never celebrated christmas, so I never did." You answered decisively. "Are they superstitious or something?" You replied no. "I guess my parents just didn't see what good it can do besides making a waste of money." Your financial situation was a touchy topic, you could see him leaving it at that, ending the interrogation. "So what'll you do on this 30th?" He asks instead.
"What I always do, stay at my apartment, maybe go on a shopping trip with all the Christmas discounts." His eyes widen in horror as if you've just told him that you had killed a man. "You're spending Christmas alone?" You could laugh at his worry if you didn't think that it would hurt his feelings. "Well, my roommate is flying back to her hometown."
"So, why don't you fly back home too? It's not just christmas, the semester break is over 2 weeks." You shrugged and went over some excuses in your head before settling for one. "Believe me, they'd rather I stay here and focus on my studies. There'd be no point anyway, since you know, I don't celebrate Christmas." His lips thinned as he analyzes you in the most obvious way possible, making you groan internally in your head.
Jace was a problem solver. You learned that very quick into your relationship.
He always tries to make the best out of every condition he's put into. And you can tell how much the idea of you being alone for two weeks bugged him. "Two weeks flies faster than you'll realize, I'm telling you Jace, I'm used to this." Oh that wouldn't cut it for him. "What if you came home with me?"
You blinked at him in confusion, his words registering very slowly. "No." You say the first thing you thought of.
His mouth makes an O shape in offense. "Why not?" You rolled your eyes. "You ask that question a lot." "If you answer me for real this time, I won't ask you that again for at least 5 days." You fought back a smile. "Fine. Because it's weird." He frowned. "No it's not, why would it be?"
"Because I've never met your family before, Jace." He shrugged in a careless manner. "Well, there's no time more perfect than Christmas."
Everything is so easy with you, you thought to yourself. Sometimes you wondered if he has ever been caught up in the anxiety of things possibly not going his way for at least once in his life. You weren't bitter, it's genuine curiosity. Jacaerys looked like the type of person who has never been afraid to take a chance with new and risky opportunities. One of them being you. He is either very lucky or very positive. Which in the case of him being incredibly privileged, both.
You took a deep breath before settling your back against the plush of the cushion of your hallway. He understood the indescribable look you gave him and leaned in to place his hands on your shoulder.
"My mom has wanted to see you for ages, there's nothing to be nervous about, I swear." You cocked your head at him. "You've already told your mom about me?" He grinned. "Yeah, she thinks you're pretty. "
Your eyes widened. "You showed her my picture?" He nodded. Oh well, this was inevitable, you told yourself. Really, can you even blame him? Every course of action he has taken so far has only proved himself to be as good as you figured he was from the moment you two met each other. Well at least his mom thinks I'm pretty.
It wasn't that you hated people or disliked socializing so much, moreso that it was just state of normalcy for you. You have friends of course, and you talk to other people, but up until you met Jace, all the other people in your life have always been viewed as a convenience. Association by luck and not exactly a friendship grounded by any sort of deep connection or intimacy.
You gave up trying to pursue or look for that kind of relationship a long time ago. And just when you expected it the least, Jacaerys came into your life and somehow managed to become an intregal part of it. 4 months later, you wonder if it's too early for you to confess that you're unable to really remember your life before him.
You let out a sigh, letting him pull you closer. "Is it not too fast? If this is because you don't like me staying alone, I swear I'm used to it." He didn't say anything at first and only embraced you with his chin resting over your head.
He was either thinking deeply about whatever you just said or he's waiting for you to give in. "2 weeks is a long time, I wouldn't even want to be around my family for 2 weeks." You say, trying to get him to relent.
"We leave on the second week of the break then. We could stay here for the first." It wasn't a bad suggestion, and you know it's not fair to him for you to be holding up all the cards. He deserves to have a say in certain things, and one week with his family sounded like a good compromise.
"I'll think about it." You told him at last. And by the look of his face, he knows he has won. He lowers his head down to kiss you, and you welcome it with ardor.
You first met Jacaerys 6 months ago at a frat party. Your project partner Cregan had invited you over, even knowing that oarties were never really your thing. But you were having a bad day and thought, why not?
On your way to the bathroom, you bumped into him. The two of you walked in opposite ways right onto each other. He apologized profusely and had taken your abrasive wave off hand as you made your way to the bathroom as a sign that you were offended. So he waited until you were done peeing so he could apologize again.
You were 5 drinks in dazed and confused, not exactly drunk but not really sober. You figured he probably wanted to hook up because who the hell apologizes this much for bumping into someone. So you glared at him and told him to fuck off.
You never saw him again for the rest of the party. But about 30 minutes later, you decided you were done with the badly remixed disco music and alcohol that tastes like fruit punch and wanted to return to your apartment. You weren't staying in dorms since you managed to rent a place nearby with another girl who was studying at the university too. And although it was much further from campus compared to the dorms, it was considered a walking distance.
How lucky you were that he ended up driving by the road you took walking home. You were prepared to flip him off when he turned his window down, asking if you needed a ride. But once you slowed down to actually look at him, you noticed a certain kind of sincerity in his eyes and gave in.
It wasn't often that you get to meet people who were kind for the sake of being kind. Most people are leeches. But not him.
Neither of you said anything throughout the whole ride except when you thanked him before getting off the car. You didn't think you'd ever see him again after that night. But like fated ropes intertwining, he was the first person you saw in your lecture the next day.
He waved at you from the back seat. You stared at him with squinting eyes to make sure it was the right person before you went back to ignoring him. He ended up moving his seat to the front more and more everytime the two of you had the class again, until 2 weeks in, he finally seated himself next to you. "Are you always this persistently annoying?" You had asked him then. "Only with the ones I like" It was stupid, and cliche and most disgustingly, cute.
And so with every encounter, you began to let your guard down and allow the relationship to naturally take it's own course. 2 months later, you officially started dating one of the most fawned over boys on campus.
Its 6.30am on a Sunday as you jog through the quiet streets behind your apartment building. You wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand, the heat turning your face red. 30 minutes from now, the roads will begin to flood with people walking to work or going on their own daily run. You know this because you've lived here for 3 years now.
When you decided to study at King's Landing University knowing it'll cost an expensive 3 hour flight for every time you'd want to go back home, it was an obvious decision both to yourself and to your family that you weren't really planning on coming back at all.
For all of 3 years you've been studying here, you had only flown back twice. And neither of those times felt worth the money you paid them for.
If this house suffocates you so badly, we'll see how far you'll survive out there all alone. Your mother had said to you 3 days before you went to college for your first year.
You had proved her wrong with your resilience, but at what cost? Your younger sister doesn't remember how you look like, and your older brother still takes every opportunity presented to him to try and belittle you every time the two of you meet.
Your father was ignorant, uncaring. And your mother? She loves you so much, with every bitter insult she throws your way and every provocation she purposely does just to get a reaction.
When you were 13 years old, she had told you to swing yourself off the highest building in response to you accidentally breaking her favourite plate. And at 16, she found herself crying by your bedside after your failed overdose attempt. At 18, she had spat on your face and announced that for as long as she lived, you would never know a life free of guilt and pain without her blessing as a mother.
At 19, The two of you hugged each other for the last time forever before you decided to never look back at that old haunted house.
You slowed down the pace of your jog, interchanging it with casual walking as you take in the sight of the rising sun. How many times have you walked these dewy streets that smelled like trees and dried rain? Too many to count. And yet, as much as you had tried to make a home out of this place, the isolating feeling that surrounded you daily was persistent.
It was the tiny voice in the back of your head saying, don't forget, these people aren't your people, and the face you put on every day that you're here isn't your own.
Loneliness was a kind of misery, but the hollow reassurance and comfort that came with proving yourself right every time a friend leaves you, or a man you thought was interested in you doesn't stay for the night, seemed to be the only constant thing in your life. That was until you met Jacaerys, of course.
You pause the music being played through your earphones, stretching your neck right after and deciding that you're ready to go home.
The flight to Dragonstone was in 3 days and you haven't really began packing. How much stuff did you need for a one week trip anyways? It was one of those moments that made you too anxious to do anything which ends up making you feel even more anxious because you haven't done anything. You do a turnaround and start walking back to your place as you reshuffle your morning playlist. A text from Jace pops up as your phone dings;
J: want 2 get breakfast in 20?
You swiped your phone open as you keep walking on a medium pace, replying with a quick OK.
It was a routine the two of you have build for over 2 months now, you'll do your 40 minutes morning jog and he'll be outside your building just in time for you to be done with your shower, eager to get some breakfast.
You're grateful for his company, it had become something you looked forward for daily. And for someone who has went through a fair share of disappointments, you really hope that this one would work out.
Anxiety plagued your thoughts as you rethink the idea of meeting his family for Christmas, what if they all thought you looked different than your photos? What if you say the wrong things or make the wrong joke and they think you're indecent? What if you say nothing and they all think you're boring?
The walk back home tired you enough to forget about those questions momentarily, but being given enough time to overthink once you reached your apartment and jumped into the shower, you figured you'd talk this out with Jace later.
He would probably just end up saying something sweet and useless like 'don't worry, just be yourself', but it's better than nothing.
The mirror becomes your worst enemy this morning, Fill in The Blank is playing from your phone as you stare at your dead eyes and immortalized eyebags. The only thing staring back at you is a reflection of a tired child. To grow up in a constant state of pain and to still be scared and hurting even after the war has ended was an everyday battle.
Because in your head, and even when you're sleeping, the war replays itself until you're worn out from it. You constantly remind yourself that you are now free, but sometimes the memory of it feels so alive that you end up making a prison of yourself despite the falseness of the alarm going off in your head.
Slipping a black t-shirt over your head while you make an estimation of how long it would take Jace to get here, you also let your mind stray for a bit, wondering if it all would've been easier if you were someone else. If Jace had dated someone else.
Maybe, maybe not. It didn't matter, because in the end you were still you, and you've only got yourself to work with.
You were drying your hair when you received another text from Jace saying taht he had arrived. Turning off the hair dryer, you sent a quick text back telling him that you were still getting ready and that the extra key was under the mat outside your door.
You could hear the front door click open 5 minutes later as you're finally done getting ready.
Exiting your room, you found him waiting by the kitchen, helping himself on some oreos that you just bought yesterday.
"I hope you're planning on paying me back for those cookies." You joked from the hall as you pulled out your hoodie from the coat hanger, slinging it over your shoulder. "I'll be paying you with my wonderful presence." He retorted back.
Once you found your purse, the two of you finally left the house to get some real food. After a few rounds of suggestions, you opted for a nearby cafe for some pancakes, though Jace ended up ordering some waffles instead.
The whole place was very secluded and smaller compared to the other cafes and diners in the area, but the meals were good and they were cheaper than the others too. You felt beyond lucky when you realized that it was just you both there in this hour. There were two other girls seated from the opposite of your table, but it was quiet enough to your liking.
"Are you done packing?" Jace asked expectedly. He was increasingly thrilled at the prospect of celebrating Christmas together with his family and his girlfriend. You shook your head no whilst you slurp up your strawberry milkshake.
"I'll start packing this evening." "Don't forget to bring a charger, and socks, because it'll probably be cold by the time we get there- oh, also you need a winter coat, and no slippers, only boots, do you want me to make you a list?" You smiled at him in amusement and answered no.
"I already made a list, I know what to bring, don't worry." He was worried, or maybe that's not the right word. No, he was excitable. "What about your parents?" He asks suddenly, causing you to pause in surprise. "What about my parents?"
He shrugged and inched closer to the table. "Have you told them you're coming with me for the semester break?" You relaxed your face, shrugging off the shocked expression you initially wore. "I don't think it's necessary, even if I wasn't going with you, I still wouldn't be going home either."
"Oh, okay." The silence was ineffable. You could hear a silent question that he didn't dare ask; why?
Your family was a rarely spoken topic in your relationship with him. It was easy to not overthink it at first, but you knew that Jace had noticed how you try your best to never bring them up.
"Plus-" you felt the necessity to add, "-they would probably be against the idea if I did tell them about it." He shares a look of curiosity, expecting you to elaborate. "My parents are kind of a strict." You chose to say. "So, they don't know that we're dating?" You shook your head. "They sound protective of you." He says it so confidently that it made you laugh dryly.
A bitter smile was painted over your face as you kept your eyes on the food. "Controlling, would be a more fitting term."
When you finally looked up to meet his gaze, you could tell there was more he wanted to ask, or comment on, but you weren't in the mood to start explaining your lore to him. Thinking about your family made you nauseous, and you really wanted to eat the pancakes without throwing up. "Believe me, its better this way." You concluded, making sure he won't have room to continue.
"Anyways, aren't you the one who should be briefing me about your family." Jacaerys grinned and seemingly forgot about your earlier conversation immediately. "There's not really much to say, you know my brothers Luc and Joffrey? They're pretty young, little rascals but harmless most of the time." You nodded earnestly, encouraging him to go on.
"My mom and dad are excited to meet you, you have nothing to worry about, I'm honestly more scared that they'll end up preferring you than me."
You snorted at that. "Ah yes, I do have a reputation with old people. Do you think it's my beautiful face?" He pretends to think for a moment before responding, "Well it can't be your charming personality." A laugh burst out of you at his words, causing you to receive a glare from the girls from the other table. You gasped out suddenly, remembering a small detail you've never discussed before. "I should bring gifts right?" A look of realization passes over Jace's face at the same time.
"I mean it's Christmas, I've never done it before, but I know presents are a thing."
Jace was quick to interject, telling you it's no need. "They wouldn't care, our tradition is all about spending time together, presents are just courtesy." He explained.
"Yes well, I should get them gifts as a courtesy then." He opens his mouth to argue but you shut him down immediately before he could. "I won't get anything crazy, it's just courtesy like you said." A lot of people might perceive you as nonchalant and uncaring, but the truth was you've always been the person who cares too much until it backfires.And as much as you wished you weren't so desperate to make a good first impression, you do want to, deep in your heart you knew that.
"Okay, fine, if you want to. But you can just get them some keychain or mugs, especially for my brothers, they're already being spoiled enough." You smile gratefully for his cooperation and agree on his terms.
One of your favorite terms in the world is the term "white lie." Any lie is excusable if you call it a white lie. It was a form of manipulation that you were used to being given. At first, you implemented it in your life as a way to please other people. A way to become more likeable and less of a burden.
You spent your whole teenage life trying to earn bits and pieces of your mother's love.
No, I'm not mad that you didn't get it for me and only bought one for my brother. Yes, it is my fault that I'm too sensitive and defensive every time we argue. No, I can't remember the last time you ever hit me. Not even the one time from last week when you pulled me by my hair, dragging me to the bathroom and used the water hose on me.
The truth soon became the most dangerous thing in your life. Candor wasn't appreciated in your home. You must watch your mouth and accept what you are given gratefully.
The cycle lasted for years until you turned 16. You had grown strong enough to push her back every time she tried to land a hit on you. Strong enough to know what to say to make it hurt for her too.
The white lies soon turned into a form of protection. No, I wasn't smoking weed under the bleachers after school hours just because it felt safer there than it does in my room. No, I don't know why I'm being written down for failing several subjects consecutively for the whole year, I thought I was doing just fine. No, I know you're doing all of this because you love me.
No, I don't think I can book a flight home for 5 days. I just got a new job, there's too much shit to do.
You stare down at your phone, the unread text stared back at your face.
M: I don't blame you for not wanting to come home, but if you want to, you can.
The only message you've gotten for her for the whole year. Her ego wouldn't force her to plead for her only daughter to come back. So she plays saint and paints you as the girl who grew up too fast and forgot all about home.
I love you, mom. You wanted to say. Love wouldn't be enough.
When was the last time she ever said that she loved you? You can never recall. It definitely wasn't the day before you went to college. No, the night before was spent holding you from behind as the two of you slept in your childhood bed. She had her face in the crook of your neck and you heard her whisper when she thought you were asleep; you were my mirror, and I'm sorry I broke you into pieces just so it'd match my cracks.
She laid with you for a few more minutes before getting up to leave. You cried until dawn and never got a wink of sleep right after.
You expected the newfound freedom to feel exhilarating, but instead, you felt more out of place during the first week at the university than you did at home. It was comical, ironic, how the only pair of hands you wanted to comfort you were the same ones that had beaten bruises on your skin. I miss you, you almost texted her.
Was it still considered a white lie or a form of manipulation if the only person you wanted to trick was yourself? No, I'm not upset that she never called or texted to ask if I've safely landed. No, I never wonder if she regrets everything she's done to me. No, I don't hate her so much sometimes that it could be translated as a child throwing a tantrum just to get their parents to pay attention to her. No, I don't like having one night stands just to know what it's like to be touched without being inflicted with pain.
No, I never wake up from dreams of you loving me the same way you loved your son and consider it a nightmare instead.
But of all times you've dreamt of her, this time you woke up from it with the only person you wanted comfort from, still sleeping next to you. And for the first time since you could remember, it was not your mother.
Your eyes remained on your phone screen, hung up on every word of the message. Glancing once at your boyfriend, you turn back to your phone to switch it off before you move to lay back under the covers.
---
It was 8 days before Christmas. Watching snow fall from the sky was somehow more magical than getting to sit on a first class plane for the first time
You tried to take pictures from above, but the snow didn't look as clear and visible through the phone as it did from your eyes.
You're hands are fully gloved, with your little bunny designed ear muffs that Jace bought for you a few days ago.
"I feel like that thing from Big Hero 6." You told him before leaving. "His name is Baymax, put some respect on it." Was his response before he pinched your cheeks with both hands.
4 hours later, the two of you are strapped in comfortable seats, the cold getting stronger, and you're both grateful for the winter jackets you had on.
"It's so beautiful." You spoke, looking out from the small window. "Yeah, beautiful." When you twisted your neck to look at him, he was already staring at you. "What?" You asked. He shrugged, face blank. "Nothing."
Neither of you broke eye contact. Your frown deepens as you try to figure out what has trying to tell you. He blinked. You were gonna ask what again until it hit you. "Jace, no."
"I didn't even say anything." He whined, defending himself. "We're not having sex on a plane." "See, I didn't even have to say it, you were just thinking the same thing." You fought the urge to roll your eyes, cocking your head to the side, baffled at his suggestion.
"Do you know how many germs there are on this plane?" He shrugged again. "It's first class." You throw your hands up in frustration. "It's times like these that I remember you're a jock." He should've been offended, but he was still confused about what you mean.
"This place is full of germs, it's not even advisable to wash your face or do skin care on a plane because that's how dirty the air is." You patiently explained, watching him get more confused. "But we're not doing skincare, we're doing each other." You turned away, groaning loudly with your eyes closed.
"You're so boring." He complained like a child. "I'm also gonna snitch on your mom if you don't get your shit together." He snorted at that, pulling out his headphones out of his small slingbag. "She won't believe you, I'm her baby." "Yeah, you are a baby."
His head snapped at you immediately, before he could come up with a smart response that probably would have to do something to do with his penis, You pushed his head back to the other side, patting his cheeks like you would a toddler and quickly put on your headphones.
He turned around again and said something, but at that point you already turned up the volume. "Sorry, I can't hear you baby." He stuck his tongue out in annoyance. You thought you heard him mutter 'baymax looking ass' but didn't react as you didn't want him to think he won.
The flight was 2 and a half hours long. You were sure you could stay awake for that amount of time, but once the flight attendant brought out the heated blanket, the both of you were down in 5 minutes.
The pilot said something through the comm that you were too sleepy to hear once the plane had finally reached the destination. You wiped your eyes with the back of your fists groggily and began shaking Jace to wake up while yawning.
The first nudge did nothing, you started tapping him on the shoulder, which by the 6th tap, you finally got a response; "5 more minutes please."
Only when you leaned closer into his ears and blew air into it does he jolt up, eyes wincing. "That tickles." He murmured, wiping his hand over his tired face. "We're about to land." You informed him, taking your headphones off and passing it to him to keep in his bag. "Okay."
You were honestly eager to get your cramped ass out of the plane, but as you refresh yourself with bottled water, the realization dawned upon you. His mother, or father, would be waiting at the airport.
The comm dinged again as the pilot announced landing. The flight attendants were all quick to get to their seat once a loud zooming noise startled everyone. "There we go." You mumbled under your breath.
He helped you up once you were able to take the seat belt off. Jace slings his bag over his shoulder and uses his right hand to carry your extra duffle bag, his left hand intertwined with yours, helping you descend down the stairs before him.
"Let me hold it." You offered, but he shook his head no. "If my mom or dad saw me making you carry anything they'll strangle me." He sounded serious so you let him penguin walk with your hands still holding his, making your way over the baggage section.
"Are you excited." He asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you. "Over the moon." You answered with a tight smile. If he noticed the sarcasm, he didn't comment on it. "Good, I promise this will be your best Christmas yet." He sounded so convincing that it made you smile against your will.
"It's literally my first Christmas, so I don't think there'll be any competition yet, Jace." "Exactly." You laughed quietly, letting him take the lead as you walked through the crowded space of the airport. Once you got on the elevator, you were going to ask him if he could see his parents from here, but he cut you to it by shouting loudly and waving both your hands up in the air. "We're here!"
Jesus fuck, you thought. If you were anywhere else, you would've immediately pulled his arm down, what with everyone around you glaring at him. But his parents were watching, and you saw his parents wave back excitedly, thankfully neither were yelling back.
The first observation you make as you begin to near them was how much he looked like his father. His mother looked exquisitely different than him. She was beautiful, with platinum blonde hair tied in a bun, her eyes smiled every time her lips did. You found yourself with a small smile, beaming at their joy as his mother started walking towards you both. I don't think I've ever seen anyone's parents this happy to have their child back home.
"Finally." You hear his mother sigh out as she pulls Jacaerys in a hug. She was quick to pull away so she could get a good look at his face. "Look at you, exactly the same." He rolls his eyes. "It's been like 6 months." She ignored his wit and pushed him aside to take you in. You didn't have the time to extend a hand as she pulls you in an embrace too. You yelped at first but hugged her back easily and smiled at her.
"So this is the sweetheart Jace has been keeping from me?" She joked, holding the side of your face with her palms. "I think I should be the one saying that." You didn't know why you said that, but it made her laugh heartily, only after you said it did you realize that it sounded like you were flirting with your boyfriend's mom.
From the corner of your eyes you could see Jace walking over to you with his father. "Have you eaten yet? You must be famished."
L That's another thing you noticed about his family. They use words like famished. The way his mother spoke sounded regal, you could even say royalty.
"Oh it's fine, I've already had some cheesecake on the plane." Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, seeing that her frown deepens. "Oh, that's barely lunch, and it's almost tea time too."
You thought tea time was a myth honestly, something British people made up to sound funny, like the monarchy. As far as you can remember, you grew up only eating one full meal a day at home. Your mother would buy you nothing else and asked if you were really that hungry, you'd assert another white lie and tell her that you really can't eat too much anyways and that your appetite is small.
As you grew older, your appetite did grow smaller, but it ended up making you feel guilty every time you wanted to eat more than once a day, as you would feel like you don't deserve it.
"It's fine, we've cooked up a nice meal back home, once you get yourself cleaned up, we can all eat together." She was incredibly soft spoken, and she looked at you in a very motherly manner. Your thank you was cut off as you hear her husband called out. "Rhaenyra-'' he appears by her side, smiling widely at you, his features remarkably similar to his son. "There you are, the prettiest girl he's ever seen, eh?" He winked at Jace, making him stutter, turning red. "Dad please-" He ignores him just like Rhaenyra did before.
"Well how do you do?" You shook hands with his father, introducing yourself. At least this time you didn't say anything that sounds like you're trying to seduce Jace's father.
Once the formalities was over, his father helped pick up the baggage that finally arrived, they have a large range rover, more than enough to fit 2 weeks worth of clothes. Jace was going to sit in the back with you, but his mother wacked him in the head and told him to sit up front. "You can't bring your girlfriend over and then hoggle her for yourself." She warned him as climbed up the back seat after you.
You're not sure if the reason you're absolutely terrified to look at Rhaenyra was because she doesn't look like a mother of 3 or because you wanted to impress her. But you tried your best to appear calm as her husband started driving. “Have you eaten anything yet sweetheart?” He asks from the front, equally as sweet as his wife.
“Uh, I had a cheesecake-” “Oh a cheesecake? For the whole day? That's not good, Jace, why didn't you buy her anything.” He scolded his son.
“She didn't want anything else-” “That can't be true, you little pig, you can't eat so much and then starve your girlfriend!”
“I'm really fine.” Your assurance wasn't acknowledged as his mother joined in. “That's right, you're lucky we cooked something up.” “She had a cheesecake-” Jace attempts to defend himself, which only made his father snort. “You know how plane foods are, they’re tiny!” You nodded in agreement, quietly whispering, “Yeah they are.” Which earned you a glare from Jace. He did try to get you to eat more, but like he said, you weren't interested. “Already teaming up against me.” He mumbled in annoyance.
The whole car ride home was peaceful. They continued to make small talk with you, asking if you've ever went skiing before, apparently it's something they did every Christmas. “Don't worry, it's quite easy, Jace could teach you when we go together.” Rhaenyra said to you later.
“Does your parents know you're here? We don't want to steal you away from them for your sem break.” Rhaenyra asked apologetically. Why did everyone care so much about whether your parents knew or not? “Oh yeah, they don't mind.” The lie came on so naturally that you forgotten about Jace being told the opposite. He snuck a glance at you but it was too quick that you didn't manage to catch his reaction. ”Good, good.” Rhaenyra concluded, relieved to hear it.
The car pulls up into a guarded neighborhood. You weren't surprised to see that most of the houses inside are mansions, perfected with their own large car porches and a garden. And you weren't surprised to see the house they finally reached in the end was as equally large as the others. The outside walls were gray and cream coloured, you could seentwo different entrances from the side and from the front by the porch.
“Home sweet home.” Jace spoke from his seat. If your house looked like that than it'd be a sweet home too.
—-
It wasn't a bad dream that jolted you awake tonight. But rather the jarring change of surrounding that you weren't used to. Jace lays on his side, an arm lazily hung over your waist. It was his snoring that pulled you out if your confusion. The white and large curtains covering the see through doors of the balcony looked unfamiliar because they aren't yours, they're Jace's.
And the reason why the floor felt so cold once you placed both your feet on the ground after you've gently push his hands off to climb off the bed was because it's made of marble, not concrete like you were used to.
Slipping into the bathroom quietly and turning on the sink tap, the brutal coldness of the water made you wince. You let your fingers familiarize with the feeling before wiping it over your dull face.
It was 2am, the clock hung on the walls of the dimly lit room read. A dreaded and fatigued part of you wanted to get back to bed, but there was a restlessness growing inside of your bones. Today is the third day that you've been here, 6 days until Christmas. You had spent the past few days helping Rhaenyra bake gingerbread cookies and joined in snowball fights with Jace and his siblings.
Your boyfriend definitely had more fun than his younger brothers. How fun it was to be able to chuck 7 snowballs in a row at his girlfriend's face before she starts chasing him into the snowflake covered woods threatening to dropkick him.
You thought things have been going pretty well so far. At first you had worried that your quiet personality would somehow make things awkward, but you seemed to have fit in rather easily with them.
You weren't shy or anything, just more reserved than most. And not that you'd ever tell Jace to his face, but Joffrey probably was your favourite. He was the youngest and the cutest. At first he had completely ignored you on the first night that you arrived, but the next day during breakfast he showingly changed his mind for his dislike or indifference for you by making Jace switch places with him to sit by your left.
It was announced on that very same day that you are to be his favourite person in that house too.
The door made a small creaking noise as you opened it to leave. Walking down the dark corridor that led downstairs, you walked yourself to the kitchen, looking for something to drink. Help yourself to the fridge, Rhaenyra had told you 2 days ago. Well, don't mind if I do.
The fridge light shone over your face like the glow of heaven as you bend down to see your choices. They had cranberry juice, which wasn't exactly your favourite, but it was better than orange juice which was another thing they had. There's bar of chocolate you're tempted to steal, but you have a feeling it's not yours to take.
Just as your hand extends to grab at the cranberry juice, the kitchen lights flicker open, making you flinch so hard that you accidentally banged your head on the upper part of the fridge. "Ow."
"Oh it's just you." Rhaenyra's voice laughed out. Pulling your head out like a snack thief, you smiled sheepishly at her.
"Sorry, was gonna grab a drink." She shook her head and head over to the kitchen sink, washing her hands. "It's fine, I thought you were Joffrey, he likes to steal his brother's chocolate bars." Well that's something the two of you have in common.
"What are you drinking?" She asks turning to look at you. "Just cranberry juice." She hummed in disagreement, shaking her head. "In this cold season? Take a seat, I'll make some tea." You have never jumped so quickly to interject anyone. "Oh no, It's fine! Really, it's 2am, I should probably get back to sleep anyways.".
She seems to take light of your argument, already pulling out a teapot and a small Camomile teabag. "Oh it's no bother, if you weren't craving anything then you wouldn't be awake rummaging through the fridge anyways." You stood awkwardly by the closed fridge watching her add hot water into the pot. "Fetch me the sugar will you?" You moved quickly to pull out the tub of sugar from one of the kitchen cabinets, passing it to her.
"So, what's keeping you up at night?" You shrugged lightly, leaning against the kitchen counter as you didn't want to sit and wait at the table like a brat. "Nothing really, I'm insomniac, so..." Her eyes widened momentarily. "Oh really?" You nodded.
"Mmhm, I take medication for it, but sometimes it doesn't work." She reacts with a string of Ooohs, stirring inside the pot with a long spoon.
"Melatonin?" You nodded again. That, and some anti psychotics.
Once she's finally done with the tea, you sat by her as she poured it into two mugs for the both of you. It was odd that she was up for small talk this late in the night, but you enjoyed conversing with her. "You know I don't think I've ever asked you what major you are, and that silly boy has never told me." "I'm an art major." You answered. She smiled so dotingly at the response, sincerely intrigued. "An art major? You can draw then?" You hummed positively. "Draw, paint a little."
She sips her hot tea patiently. "I'm a fan of art myself, have you heard of Egon Schiele?" You laughed breathily. "Of course, who doesn't?" Rhaenyra tipped her head to the side in a small nod of agreement. "I have some of his paintings on my office, his works had been a favourite. Quite an expressive man isn't he?" You considered the man's work with his personal life. "Not exactly a role model but yeah, he is."
Your tea is finished, but you remain unmoved on the chair, waiting for her to continue. "You know I believe that the arts is the heart of humanity. Some people might not agree, people who can't see beyond the techniques and brush strokes, but art is what happen when you try to make beauty out of pain, isn't it? I mean as stereotypical as it sounds."
Your eyes were no longer droopy from sleepiness, they match the pure intensity Rhaenyra's had. "It is. Without art, and I don't mean just paintings- I mean poetry and literature and theatre, pain would just be pain. Meaningless." "Exactly."
You don't know what the silent words being exchanged through your gazes actually meant, but something did cross between the two of you, an understanding of a sort, an alliance in beliefs.
"I also believe that those who dabble in art, in any mediums, are the ones who love the strongest and lose the hardest." An unintentional smile bloomed over your face. "Tell me about it." Rhaenyra laughs lightly. "Have you always dabbled in art?" She questioned.
You relive blurry memories of badly drawn trees and stick humans done when you were a child. "Sure, yeah. I've always liked it. I mean it's not just this magical talent I have or anything, as much as the arts is viewed in a much bigger scale of its effects to society as a whole, it's could also be deemed important in indivual intepretation."
Rhaenyra leans back against her chair, hands placed on her lap politely. "Like for example- art is intimate because it is yours.
- It doesn't have to have a deeper meaning all the time and neither does it have to emotionally strike you for it to be considered art. To love, some people say, is to be understood. But we can never truly understand anyone, no matter how hard we think we can.
-And so I think that art, just like people, can be loved even without context. Whatever feeling it sparks inside of you, it is intimate because it is complicated, and it is intimate because it can mean a hundred different things to a hundred different people."
Her expression was unreadable. You wondered if you have confused or overwhelmed her. But after a few minutes of silence, she asked; "And what about people?" "What about it?"
"You compared it to art, and you said art needn't be understood to be loved, does the same goes for people?" You clasped your cold hands on the warm mug and pursed your lips together, your thoughts racing each other.
"Yeah, it does. I mean I use to think that being with a person who understood you was the most important thing in the world, and though it does feel good to finally be seen by someone else, like I said before, it is nearly impossible to be truly understood. And so, the second best thing would be to be loved despite not being understood. To have someone who believes in you, even if they're not sure about the situation or the facts or your rationality, that is love. To be believed in."
"Faith?" Rhaenyra suggests. "Yes, faith."
You stood up right after, taking her empty cup to wash for too despite her complaints, hand washing them as you're not sure how to use a dishwasher. "I'm glad you're here." Rhaenyra spoke from behind you. It wasn’t the validation that had struck you so deeply in the chest, nor was it her appreciation for you, instead, ot was her acceptance. "I'm glad I'm here too."
In this small moment between 2 to 3am on a Thursday at your boyfriend's kitchen, you wonder if you've found the right kind of people to call home.
"Thanks for the tea, I hope I didn't keep you up." You thanked her in a hushed voice, genuinely grateful. She returned your smile and squeezed your shoulder softly. "You did no such thing, now go get some sleep, alright?"
When you returned to Jace's room, you find him sitting up on the bed in the dark. You closed the door behind you slowly and tiptoed towards him.
"Where'd you go?" He asks sleepily, pulling you close to his chest as he moves to lie back down. "Went to get a drink." You whispered back. "For 20 minutes?" You snorted and lifted your head up to kiss him on the cheek before placing your head back under his chin. "Your mother couldn't sleep either, she made tea."
Jace accepted the response, asking no more questions. His arms wrap around your body the way a ship holds on to an anchor. You didn't know how much you needed someone to need you until you met him.
You notice that he's still awake, with the way his finger is lightly tapping the skin of your shoulder. "Did I wake you up? Sorry." You feel him shaking his head slightly. "No, I was just thinking." He mumbled back. "About?" You inquired him.
"You, I miss you." You frowned and pulled back to look at him. "I'm right here." He shrugged. "I know, but sometimes you're not. Sometimes you're here but when I look at you, you're gone. And I don't know how to bring you back." You feel a splinter in your heart when he said that. How foolish you are to expect him to be so stupid to never notice how unstable you can be at times, how easily you dissociate and push him away before pulling him right back.
"I'm sorry." You told him sincerely, not sure what else there is that could be said.
"I'm not angry, or upset. I just want you to know that Im right here with you too, and I'm not going anywhere." You smiled sadly at him and nodded. "I know." Your noses booped together and he returns your small smile. "Anything you need me for, I'm here." Jacaerys assures you, half yawning. "I just need you to trust me, and I'll trust you. Can you do that for me?" He stared silently for a moment and then nodded once. "Okay, I trust you. But you have to honor your end."
You pecked his lips with one hand caressing his cheek. "I trust you." You promised.
It was 3 days before Christmas. You've spent the past week skiing and building a snowman with the kids. These past few days have been so suspiciously peaceful that it's terrifying.
You're on edge, despite the happiness this family has brought you. You like to tell yourself that you're just being careful, but the truth is that sometimes you can't tell the difference between a house fire and a small candle.
You had texted your mother 2 days ago, confessing to her that you've been spending this week with your boyfriend's family. You made sure to keep your lie about your job going, stating that this visit was a last minute kind of thing. She never answered.
She shouldn't be bothered, you soothed yourself. She never cared if you ever actually came home or not, why should this be an exception?
You and Jacaerys have spent the day going from shop to shop, eyeing beautiful Christmas lights and discounts available. You started with a bakery in the morning, Rhaenyra's suggestion. You had gotten free tastings on many of the popular cake choices before Jace finally settled on buying his mother's favourite Lemon cake.
He had urged you to pick something for yourself and you landed on some éclairs, finishing them up on the car ride to the antique gift shop a few blocks further.
The store had a giant nutcracker statue staring out from inside the windows, they reminded you of the old Christmas movies you spent watching as a child. The bell on the door jiggled loudly as you entered after Jace, a longing gaze towards the nutcracker, hints of nostalgia filling up your heart.
An elderly lady guarded the counter with a smile. "Looking for anything in particular?" She asks. Jace shook his head and smiled back. "Just looking around." He soon found himself crouching down at the snow globe sections, pulling a few out of the shelves to eye the intricate details.
You had walked to the candle shelves, admiring the colourful choices. There was another nostalgic thing on candles too. A superstitious kind. The way you used to blow on them for every birthday or random nights you remembered to lit up your rose scented candles that stays on your bedside, wishing on them like you do on a shooting star.
Asking for some kind of mercy from whichever god there was looking down at you. But in the end you had to pull yourself up without any kind of divine intervention. You had learned that there was only one god inside of you, and she was a girl fed on rage and grievance who spent her nights weeping in her empty altar.
The girl was still there, quieter now, but unflickering, unlike a candle.
You eye the red coloured candle gently, sniffing on the wax to identify the scent. Rose. You place it back on the shelf and move on to the cutlery sets.
You loved cutlery, plates and mugs. Maybe it's the 20s getting to you, but some days you feel that the house decoration section of IKEA was better than any night club you've been in. A beautiful chipped cup stared at you from the lower shelves. It was beautiful, purple flowers drawn on the curves and long thing green ropes on the holder.
You were pulling it out to look inside when your phone suddenly dinged multiple times, buzzing in the pocket of your pants. Clumsily, you pushed the cup back in and took your phone out whilst still crouching.
M: Is this some sort of tantrum you're throwing?
the first notification read, making you frown. You don't have the strength to swipe open the screen to read the full sentence, only reading what's shown on your lockscreen. Just before you could click it off after pressing mute, another notification enters, the words too bright, reading themselves aloud to you.
M: you're selfish, do you ever think about anyone else but yourself? It's always how you feel because only yo-
the full message was cut off as another notification enters. Irritation filled you the same time that your eyes pricked with angry tears. You blinked a few times to get rid of it as you shove your muted phone back in your pants.
I can't fucking deal with this right now. You told yourself. Your phone buzzed again, making you harshly take it back out to turn off the vibration.
It always has t be a problem with her. Selfish she called you? On the one time you decided to do something fo yourself?
Pulling yourself up to stand your kneed are met with the cup that's still half out from it's shelf, shoving it behind strongly, a small crash sound turned your whole body into stone.
You bend back down immediately, pulling out the chipped mug and the small broken pieces of it's corners. You could hear the owner getting up. Shit shit shit. "What was that sweetie?"
You turned to her with a saddened expression. "I'm so sorry, I'll pay for it-" the woman's eyes moved from your face to the glass pieces and gasped. "Oh my, wait here- I'll get the broom." As soon as she disappeared to the store room, Jacaerys was by your side in the next second. "What happened?" He bends down.
"It was an accident, I smashed it with my knee." Your voice was shaky and you feel your fingers prick as you try to sweep the pieces onto your left palm before the lady returned. "Baby, put it back, she's bringing the broom." He warned you. You shook your head lightly and kept picking up the tiny sharp ones. "It's fine, I got it-" Jace grabbed your hand and turned it upside down so they fall back on the ground.
"Jace what the fuck is wrong with you." You snapped, pulling your hand back. Your voice was high, close to yelling. "Your hand is fucking bleeding, there's literal cuts." He argued back, trying and failing to grab at your wounded hand.
The store room door opened loudly, the both of you turned to see the lady walking over quickly with a small broom. "Move aside you two." She ordered calmly.
"I can do it for you, it was my fault." You offered her, ignoring how Jace is trying to pull you back. "Oh no, it's fine sweetie, it happens all the time." You opened your mouth to ask again, desperate to try and fix the mess you made, but you could feel Jace's grip on your arm tightening and stayed silent.
"I didn't mean to." You whispered. His grip loosens, his hand moved from your arm to your shoulder. "It's fine, I'll pay for it." He immediately widened his eyes to warn you to keep quiet, knowing you'd argue against it. "Let me pay for it now, we'll discuss this later." He muttered closely to you. Your lips pursed together, not wanting to say or do anything you can't take back, you shush up.
There is large wave of emotion building up inside of you. It was overwhelming because it's not just one emotion. As the anger dissolves into pathetic guilt, you bite your lip from bursting out crying. Blinking fastly for a few more times, you managed to keep your breakdown from blowing up.
Standing by the door like a rock, you watch as Jace pulls out his purse to pay for the damage. You can see the lady shaking her head, denying his money. "It's old, not worth anything." You hear her say to him.
He ended up buying a tint snow globe and aa keychain anyways, to make up for the broken cup. She seemed to hold no grudge in her expression, smiling at the two of you and saving as you left.
Neither of you said anything on the walk to the car. Once you got in and strapped on the seatbelt, you twisted your face to him to see if he was upset and noticed that he was frowning. He hands you the small plastic gift, looking straight up front. A small sigh leaves him after he turns up the AC. the car engine noise filling up the tension between you.
"It was an accident." You repeated. He finally turns to you, with a look much worse than rage. Disappointment, pity. "I know." He responds softly. "I was just trying to clean it up, I felt bad." He nodded quietly, slowly averting his gaze to the steering wheel.
More silence filled the gap. When he finally steps on the pedal to reverse out of the parking, you turned away to look out the window in resolve. Nothing was said throughout the whole ride home.
Rhaenyra was excited to have you both home by evening. Her husband was quickly chastised for taking the first bite off of her cake. The sight was both amusing and endearing. You would've smiled in another scenario.
Jace talked and moved like nothing happened, offering for you to take a shower first before him, helping his mother with the dishes as the children are scolded for running around the kitchen. "Go to your room." Jace forced them with a kind of authority that you rarely see in him.
You watch the kids run up pass you, saying hi to you before they disappeared to their rooms.
Going for a shower yourself, you found solace in the privacy that his bathroom gave you. Letting the hot water run down your body along with your tears, you couldn't tell the difference between whicb and which.
Your face and eyes was red by the time you were done, the hot water obviously helped with that. But the warmth after cold skin biting walks was calming, even with the overthinking that came with today's events, the shower helped to bring down the temperature of your emotions.
Washing your face with cold water from the sink next, you avoid looking in the mirror. Shame erupted inside your chest, like a child scorned and embarrassed by their own behaviour.
You could hear Jace walk in the room from the bathroom. The door makes a sound as it's shut close. Letting your hair down for the first time today, you combed the wild strands with your fingers, lightly massaging your head as you brave yourself to face him again.
You didn't do anything wrong, why are you so scared?
You push the door open and dry your feet on the carpet outside of it. Jace was sitting on his bed, shirtless and charging his phone by the bedside.
He gives you a glance when be hears your footsteps and then turns back away like it's nothing. You're as watchful as him as you begin to dress yourself, sliding a green long-sleeved shirt over your head. You'd layer a cardigan over it later, but for now you're craving the chill after your hot shower.
He gets up to place his snow globe on his dressing table and hooked the small heart shaped keychain on his laptop bag. You sat yourself on the bed, feeling it dip and watching him still.
He turns on the small light on the front of his room after he's done closing all the curtains, and then you watch him take his trousers off before taking down his towel from the coat hanger and enter the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Hearing the sound if water begin falling from where he's in, you let your shoulder relax, a tired sigh escapes you.
You leaned back against the pillows and closed your eyes for a moment, letting the world around you turn dark.
The first time Jacaerys had slept over in your apartment was the first time he ever knew you were on multiple medication. It was the first time the two of you ever had sex, and he had passed out easily after. You, despite being tired, found yourself kept awake by your thoughts.
You can't remember what exactly kept you up but it was 2 hours in when he was startled awake by your shuffling around.
You had spent the last hours contemplating if you should grab a pill to help fall asleep or if it was too late and the pill would cause you to sleep in on tomorrow morning's class. And so the indecisiveness resulted in you trying your best and failing to fall asleep naturally. He looked up at you groggily and frowned.
"How you been awake the whole time?" He asked. You sighed tiredly and laid on your back.
"Yeah, sorry, did I wake you?" He shook his head and wiped a hand over his face. "You didn't, it's fine. I just thought you'd be down easy after all that."
You snorted and shook your head. "I'm insomniac."
"Oh." You nodded. "Yeah I have meds for it, but sometimes the pills all just clash together and it doesn't really work." He hummed in understanding. You noticed he doesn't ask more about the pills. It was either he didn't care or he was being respectful. You learned weeks in later that it was the latter. Unsurprisingly.
"Well, what do you do when you can't sleep?" You shrugged your shoulders. "Dunno. Watch stuff on my phone."
"What do you usually watch?" He asks, characteristically interested. "Gay sex." His head jolted forward and his eyes immediately widened. "I'm joking."
His shock immediately watered down as he gave you a faint laugh in response. "Right, of course."
You spent the rest of the night talking to him until your body gave in and you collapsed around his arm around dawn.
It's not an easy thing to forget, a man's first show of affection in small subliminal ways that some people might not notice. But you did, you always do.
That was not the last time you'd see him sacrifice his own comfort to make you feel less lonely than you already were. In a room full of people, colleagues, friends and family, you found that only he had the power to make you feel seen.
Other people looked at you and saw what you let them see. But Jacaerys was willing to pay much more attention to the things other people didn't want to. Your condition, whatever it's called (most people call it complicated), often made people uncomfortable. How is it a person like you could be so non chalant yet care so much at the same time. How was it you were reserved, but not shy or accepting of anyone's attempts to step over you?
They can't quite understand the complexity of being a damaged person that still tries their best to undo those damages on a daily. Niceties didn't always equal empathy. You learned that very early on in your life. To find someone who wouldn’t try to fix the hard parts of your self or resent you for them wasn't easy.
Most men, that you knew of, will either try to "fix" you in an attempt to make themselves feel heroic. Like a savior. And when they realise too far in that those scars you bared was unreversable, they use it againts you instead. They paint you out to be the bad guy for those same traits they promised and vowed to be so understanding of.
And for almost the only time ever in your life that night, you didn't feel like your secrets were owed to anyone. A safe space was a place you knew you could be vulnerable with, but t was also supposed to be a place where you knew you could still be caution with all your walls up and still wouldn't be judged for it.
It was him who stayed through the cold shoulders and unanswered questions. And so, it was also him who you then trusted your whole heart with.
---
You were woken up 30 minutes before dinner time. Feeling the soft nudge Jacaerys gave you, shaking you awake easily. His hand lingered on your shoulder until you were sitting up fully. You thanked him and went up to the bathroom to wash your face.
"Mom's making lasagna tonight." He says ftom outside the bathroom door. He no longer referred to Rhaenyra as 'my mom', including you as part of the family without any awkwardness.
"I love lasagna." You called back. "I know."
The cold sink water have been getting warmer and warmer as the snow outside begins to melt. The weather was still antagonizing, but driving through the wet road was easier now, and morning showers are less dreadful.
"You know, we don't really get snow back home." You quipped as you turn off the sink, making your way out. "Really?" He asked, genuinely astonished.
"Yeah, it's a much warmer climate where I'm from." He was putting on a sweater by his mirror when you came out, his eyes met yours through the reflection. "So, you've never built a snowman before?".
You smiled and nodded, walking over to the bed. "Nope, the one we did the other day was my first time." Snowman building and snowball fights were fun, though you wouldn’t admit to your boyfriend that you much preferred staying inside with the heater on as you munch on some cookies and hot chocolate.
You were layering moisturiser over your face when you hear Jace speak, "I forgot to tell you, your mom called on your phone while you were sleeping." You froze for a second before your hands resumed massaging your face with the product.
"Oh, did you talk to her?" You asked, giving him a quick glance. Jacaerys shook his head and you felt relief spread through your whole body.
He sat by your side, watching you do your skincare routine meticulously. "I muted it, but you should probably call her back, it was two misscalls." You hummed uncaringly, as if it was the least important thing in the world, not wanting to give out a suspicious reaction.
The truth was you did not have the guts to check your messages at all since you came back from the shopping trip. You had her on mute and that had helped calm your nerves. But knowing that she had went as far as calling you twice, which believe it or not, is the first time you've ever had that much attention from her, was anxiety inducing.
"I'll call her later." You stated, noticing him still staring at you from the corner of your eyes. "Why did you say that she already knew you were here when we first arrived at the airport?" He asks suddenly.
There weren't any direct correlations of this question to the current situation, but it was unsurprising that he had brought this up. In fact, you have been waiting for him to do so.
"I did tell them." You answer bluntly. "You told me a few days before that you didn't want to." You closed the cap of your face serum and stashed it back inside your small bag, taking yout time with the conversation.
"I changed my mind. I was telling the truth when I said I didn't want to tell them at first, but I figured they should know. In case of emergencies." He was content with the answer, making no more inquiries.
Dinner was quick and quiet. You helped cut the marble cake Rhaenyra had made into small square shapes before its passed around to the whole table after prayers were spoken together.
There were no leftovers of it or the lasagna by the time it was over. You could tell that the older woman was overjoyed. She was someone who put all of her love and effort into everything that she does for her family, and watching her children appreciate the hard work of a mess she made in the kitchen must've felt rewarding.
You helped her with the dishes until everyone else except Jace had left. She argued against it at first, insisting that you were a guest and shouldn't have to do anything. But you refused to leave until the kitchen was clean, so she had you sweep crumbs and pieces out of the carpet while Jace was to take out the trash.
"It's good to have another woman here." She said to you as she stacks up the dry plates back to the shelves.
Throwing out the collected trash into the dustbin, you offered her a small laugh. "I'm glad you feel so."
You went up first after the cleaning was done, leaving Jacaerys with his mother, discussing the Christmas tree arrangements.
The medium sized plastic tree they had ordered last week finally arrived, and it was up to him to fix it up on their livingroom by the end of today.
You considered your gift for his family that you had handmade a few days before you flew here. It would've been easier to buy something, but buying them all an individual gift would be costly, and Jacaerys himself have warned you against that, deeming it unnecessary.
And so your ivory and indigo themed painting of Daisies and Forget Me Not's would be enough.
It was an image that you had longed to paint for a long time, two contrasting coloured flowers tangled together. But with all the assignments and homework that your degree was already requesting of you, there hadn't be any time for you to make it up until the week before you an Jace left.
It wasn't your best work, but it was your favourite. The subtlety that tied together on the canvas satisfied you.
Jace came up shortly after you had. Mumbling something about the decorations looking shitty. Ignoring the fact that you were reading on the bed, jumped on it suddenly, making you bounce up. "Hello?" You snapped, waving your book.
He raised his brows innocently, laying down on the pillows. "All you do is read and paint." He whined. "I like reading and painting."
He poked your right thigh with his toes making you pause reading to slap his feet as a warning. "Get a hobby." You could feel his eye roll from behind you. "Loving you is my hobby."
You kept your eyes on the book as you responded, "how lifeless you must be." Your book is snatched from your hand right after your sentence is finished. "Give it back you gorilla." You twist yourself towards him, trying to reach for the book as he held it up over your head.
"No, this thing has taken over my place as the center of your attention." You let out a loud hah! Pushing him down against the bed and pried the book from his cold hands as he kept his grip on it.
"Bold of you to assume you were ever the center of my attention." He gasped and you took the opportunity to grab the book while his hand loosens.
"How can I not be the center of your attention? Look at me." He spoke seriously.
The book was safely placed by your side, but now he's grabbing you over him instead. "You know I only agreed to date you just in case I'd need to apply for a green card." You gritted out as he squeezes your face against his cheek. Jacaerys' facade of being offended broke and he threw his head back in a boisterous laugh, letting you slip away from him
Shoving him strongly while he's still choking on laughter, he fell off the bed with an oof and landed face down, drawing out a laugh from you instead.
Pulling himself back up, he squints his eyes and glared at you. "You're so boring."
What he views as boring is your kind of fun and that was just how it is. "What do you want us to do instead? Have a slumber party?" He tilt his face, genuine considering it. You cut him off before he could agree. "No- We're not doing that, because I know your definition of slumber party."
"I thought you liked my definition of a slumber party." He asks, laying his head on your lap and letting you get your few pages in for the night. "We're at your parent's house, I don't think they'd like your definition of a slumber party." He hummed and said nothing else, closing his eyes as he stays against your thighs.
You suspected it was either the white wine or the sugar rush of the three squares if marble cake that he had tonight that was making him slightly more hyper. Whatever it was, it's refraining him from being able to just sit his ass down. You once asked him if he had ADHD during your first month of dating, he vaguely answers 'probably' and started talking about something else right after.
Speedreading the last 3 pages of the chapter you're in, you thought he had fallen asleep until he turned around so he would face up to you. "Do you want to go see the Christmas lights?"
You barely heard what he said at first, trying to finish reading the last sentence of the page. "Huh?" He repeated what he said again, waiting for you to close your book and meet his eyes.
When you finally do, you looked down at him with skepticism. "Right now?" He nodded. It was around 8.30, not that late, but also pretty early. You tossed and turned the suggestion in your head until you finally just shrugged at him. "Are they really that pretty?"
"This street is full of mansions wrapped with gigantic traffic lights coloured decorations. Pretty sure the Millers have a gigantic Elf statue outside their gate." You blinked in surprise. "That's...festive."
He nodded in agreement. "Yeah, rich people stuff."
You'd counter back that he was rich too, but there aren't any weird Santa statues in this house yet, so you say nothing. "We don't have to see the ones around this neighbourhood, I know the street stalls are gonna be lit up all around tonight, We could drive around, grab a burger or something."
You were still full from the lasagna, but a burger sounded appealing. You had grown up around street foods and cheap oily burgers and fries from stalls by your house. The taste was always better than whatever clean expensive food you've ever had in your life. You were eager to get out of this place suddenly.
"Okay, sure. Let me finish one more chapter and we can go." Jacaerys cheered, fist bumping the air before he rolled off of you to go change into something thicker.
It ended up being an hour later when you were finally done with the book, managing to convince your dressed up boyfriend on his reindeer sweater that it's much too early still.
To make up for your lack of priority for the time, you were punished to wear a matching red sweater like his. Putting it on with a grumble and frown, he had no idea that you secretly liked the sweater but would rather die than confess it aloud.
You let him get downstairs first to inform his mother of your plans. He was already starting the car engine when you got down, his parents and young Joffrey were all settled on the couch, watching Bluey.
Rhaenyra smiled as you walked by. You waved at her as you're about to walk out and hear her call out to her son. "Be back before 11, or I'll lock you both out!"
"Yeah, yeah." Jace yelled back and closes the door.
You hopped on the passenger seat of his Range Rover with ease and put on the seatbelt while he starts to reverse the car out of parking.
"So, where first?" You ask.
"We could start with stalking our neighbour's houses and then go on a drive down the street- or, we could go down the street first and then stalk our neighbours." You don't miss the way he referred to his neighbours as ours. "I think we should stalk the weird elf dude first, we'll probably be starving again by the time that's done, and then we can go straight to the shops and get a burger."
"Oh wow, you had this all planned out didn't you?" He sounded amused.
"Well, better safe than sorry." He wore a puzzled expression at your words but did not ask for clarification.
The house with the 5'4 elf wasn't that far away from his, and true his words were, the elf did exist by the large gates.
It had a green pointy hat on and wore a red vest with blue buttons.
"The Italian flag?" You whispered out in confusion, watching through the binoculars Jace had stolen from his younger brother. "I think...that's the Christmas colours, not the Italian flag." He whispered back, taking the binoculars from you.
"Oh right, of course." This had to be the first and last time you said something that stupid around him. You had a reputation to keep of being the smart one
What's more terrifying than the large demonic eyes of the elf staring at you was how there were also multiple tiny elves surrounding the big one, like little elf babies with adult elf faces. They crowded around the feet of the big elf, building what seemed like an elf shrine.
"It's like a cult." Jacaerys spoke after a while. You thought the exact same thing.
"Like little cultish elves worshipping their elf messiah." Jace lowered the binocular and snapped his neck towards you. "You think this is legal?"
You frowned at him. "Why wouldn't it be?"
"I don't know, i mean it's a bit disturbing isn't it, like, doesn't this count as property damage or something, or least neighbourhood disturbance."
"The only authority figure I could imagine would have a problem with this is Santa Claus for illegal use of elves, besides that, I don't think a statue of Elf on the shelf would count as a distubance at all." He looked uncomfortable at your explanation, and only then did it click in your head.
"Jace, are you scared of the 5'4 static Elf?"
His silence and slow reaction was answer enough. You gasped in realization. "You are!"
"I'm not fucking scared of the Elf." He denied strongly as you leaned against the locked car door in shock. "I'm just...disturbed. It's almost the same height as me."
"You can't blame the elf for your growth problems." He glared at you and started the car on reverse. "That's the worst thing you've ever said to me, worse than the time you compared me to the hunchback of Notre Dame."
You burst out a giggle at the random memory. "Oh my god, the hunchback of Notre Dame!" You recalled the nickname joyfully. "Well, it made you fix your posture. Also you called me Baymax last week, so it cancels out.
Jace drives the car out of the neighbourhood, waving at the security guard who stood by the post to open the gate. Making a turn on his right, he heads straight for the streetshops.
"You called yourself Baymax, I just corrected you." He defends himself.
It took longer than usual to get there, considering that so many other people there had the same idea as them. Jace had to turn on the heater when halfway near the destination, snow began to fall down from lonely starless sky.
It was microscopic and beautiful. You had wanted to reach yout hand out through the window and grabbed one of the flakes on the palm of your hands, but you refrained from doing it
In the back of your head, you can hear the cynical voice of your mother calling your childlike awe a sign of immaturity.
People like you who thinks life is all about dreams and art and poetry are the kind of people who ends up in the street once your hopes have failed you.
You let yourself enjoy the scenery before Jace finally parks the car bynthe side of the road. He helps you get off the ride and locked it securely before intertwining your hands together and heading to the burger stall that's a block away from where you two stood.
"The traffic's gonna be crazy tomorrow." He mutters under his breath, looking up as the snowflakes continue to fall down. "Because of the snow?" You ask anyways, despite knowing the answer.
"That, and because people are going to head back home or wherever they came from for Christmas day." Ah yes, of course.
The holiday that you came here for.
"Well I can't imagine the traffic on the day after Christmas would be any more pleasing." He nods in agreement, scrunching up his nose in displease.
Thank god for their first class flight.
The burger order took less than 5 minutes. You sat down next to him by the door of a closed pawnshop as you ate it all up. The flavor of red chilli sauce and mayo filled you mouth, it felt like a reminiscent of an old memory.
You finished it faster than Jacaerys and stood up to walk over past the streetlamp to take a closer look at the glorious crescent moon that stared back at you from above.
Lifting both your hands up, you use them to cover the blurry glow of the lamp from your sides to let yourself see the moon better. You weren't sure how long you had been standing there just staring at it, but it didn't matter because even after years of knowing the exist of the moon, it's beauty never fail to leave you in awe every time you see it
"I don't think I've ever seen anyone this excited to see the moon." You hear your boyfriend tease from behind you. He must have already finished his burger. "Oh you haven't seen me with the stars yet.".
You could feel him smiling from behind as he places a hand on your shoulder. "Not much of them tonight." He noted. "Yeah, it's like they're all in hiding."
Letting your heart whisper out one last wish on the stunning moon, you turned back towards Jacaerys with pursed lips and raised brows. "Well, where are we going next?" He smiles back. "I think the bookstore up front is doing 20% off."
---
Jacaerys Strong is scared of a lot of thing. He's scared of learning new stuff. He is scared of heights and pests and gigantic sized elfs.
But his biggest fear these past few months is accidentally saying the wrong thing at the wrong time around you.
He realized very early on that when it came to being in a relationship with you, patience was a major key that was necessary. And just because he had succeeded in waiting long enough for you to finally unlock that door, it didn't mean that there were no more locks in the future.
But sometimes he's not sure which room he is in and he can't tell which key is for which. It's not that you're overly complicated, just more confusing than some. There were many times where he felt inclined to listening and studying the way you act instead of tryong to pry details out of you.
Pressuring you into opening up or trying to make whatever you two have go faster would be a recipe for disaster.
There was a discount indeed when you both got to the bookstore. Despite his reputation of being more muscles than brains, Jacaerys liked reading. He wasn't exactly an avid reader before he met you, but he enjoyed reading whatever you recommended him to so that the both of you could talk about it together afterwards.
You spent some time on the Young Adult shelf before moving onto the Classics and New Adult sections while your boyfriend strayed away to the other shelves but still remained close to you. And after 20 minutes of searching about, you finally picked up a copy of The Essex Serpent while Jace bought himself The Crucible.
"I didn't take you for a play kind of guy." You commented as you walk out the store. "I've read a few of them this year actually." He admits as the two of you make way to his car. "Really?" You sounded astonished, he couldn't blame you.
"Yeah, I actually had to read All's well that end's well and Hamlet for my lit class, but i liked them so I decided to read Macbeth too just for fun."
"You can understand Shakespeare?" You ask with a frown. He makes a face at your words. "I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not."
"I'm not. I tried Romeo and Juliet in like 11th grade, couldn't understand shit." You explained.
You liked reading and you liked literature, but you weren't good at understanding old english writing. Growing up, it felt like you weren't allowed to indulge in two kinds of hobbies that leaned more towards the artistic side of education. Your mother has always regarded your passion for the arts as a waste of times. I've never met an artists that didn't die suffering. She had told you when you were 13 years old after she had thrown out all of your drawing books because you were getting below B+ on your mathematic and science subjects.
"Did your school not have a literature class?" You shook your head no. "We had normal English for like, grammar, vocabulary, and essays. But we were never taught to read the classics or poetry like a lot of the other public schools."
Jacaerys was a private school boy, so of course his classes were much more detailed and well organized compared to the ones held in public schools.
"That sounds boring." It was boring, when you finally entered college and was able to attend literature class as an elective subject, you found that your passion for the language still burned bright even after years.
The next half an hour was spent driving down the road and looking at the fairy lights hung from streetlamp to streetlamp. A lot of the shops had plastic made snowmans guarding the door of the place.
More snow began heavily filling up the ground, it was getting the people around the place even more excited. You could see parents with their children, and teenagers with their friends running around trying to catch the snowflakes and bending down to investigate the ones that have fallen.
If it weren't for the blistering cold, you'd probably get off the vechicle to join them.
An old toyshop by the end of the road even had these stunning little rudolph the red nosed reindeer figures staring out from inside the shop. Jace suggested going in to check the place out, but you were getting comfortable in your seat, just enjoying the view from inside.
Clenching your toes tightly in an attempt to warm them up, the fuzzy pair of socks you had on were no help. "I think we should just stay inside, used enough money for today."
"Broken enough stuff too." He responds in a joking manner as he pulls over in a singular parking lot behind an empty building.
You feel a something snap in your head as you turned to him. "Are you still mad about that?" He wore a puzzled expression at the question but still kept his eyes on his front despite the car already being parked. "I'm not mad at you, I was just joking." He responds in a weary intonation.
"You don't have to lie to make me feel better." You said calmly. Sometimes people lie as not to offend the other person, but you wanted him to know that he could be honest with you on how be feels. "I know you were at least a little upset, that's why you wouldn't speak to me when we got home."
He turns off the front lights of the car and the engine, and then pulled his seat back slightly, getting more comfortable. When he finally looks at you, it was the kind of look that you have ling deciphered as a stare of commiseration. The kind that you give to starving stray dogs outside your door.
"Don't look at me like that, don't be patronizing." You warned him, leaning your back on the car door. "I'm not patronizing you, I didn't even say anything."
"You're looking at me like you feel bad, don't fucking feel bad. If you're angry at me, then tell me you're angry at me. I'm not a child, I can take it." He opened his mouth to argue against that but closed it just as fast as he opened them.
Glancing to his side like he's searching fir some sort of support, he meets your eyes again after a second, and spoke with much more confidence; "I'm not mad at you, I never was." You fold your arms together, shaking your head.
"Then why were you so silent on the way back- and don't say it's nothing, I know the difference between comfortable silence and awkward silence." He waves his arms in resignation and stutters out as he struggles to really think of a good response.
"Honestly?" You nod once. "I-I just didn't know, how to speak to you."
"What does that mean?" You pushed him to elaborate. "I mean, it's just that in certain times- certain situations, you can get so...vulnerable. Like you're seconds away from breaking. And in times like those, I'm just not sure how to approach or comfort you.
-I mean god knows I was never good with comforting people, but when you get so frustrated and upset, I'm just scared that if I say the wrong things or ask the wrong questions, I'll accidentally hurt you more and push you away from me further."
The pity in his eyes were gone, replaced with worry instead. You take in every words he says with a sharp piercing in your heart. "Oh."
A part of you is relieved to know that he was never really angry. Another part of you despises him for viewing you as something so fragile and pathetic. And then there is a third part of you from the inside, who knew that he was right. You had been compared to a ticking time bomb before, it was not new information.
"I'm sorry I made you think I was mad." He spoke again after a moment of silence. Your eyes strayed from his face to your lap, unable to meet his gaze.
He watches the way your face scrunces up in a thoughtful manner and gently places a hand on your thigh hesitantly. "I don't mean it in a bad way, I'm just, not that good with words sometimes."
Your face is relaxed as you look back up again, acceptant to the things he had said. "I get what you mean." You told him, the aggressiveness from before already melting back into passivity. "I'm sorry too, I know I can be a lot."
His free hand moved to caress the right side of your cheek. "You're not, we're both juat doing what we know as best as we can." You nodded and offered him a half smile.
He pulls you into a hug, the seating arrangement making it a bit hard, but the two of you pulled through. "My mom's angry I'm here." You mumbled into his chest.
Jacaerys' brows knitted together. "Why? She doesn't like me or something?" Be feels you shake your head no. "She doesn't even know you. She just thinks every decision I make is a bad one." He didn't know what to say to that.
He's never met your family before, but it was obvious that you were raised in a very different environment than he was.
He also understood that you've always had a certain way dealing with negative things in your life, a certain perspective that makes your choices understandable.
"Did she want you to come home?" You answered no. "She doesn't care if I come home or not, and yet for some reason she's upset that I chose to be here instead of going back home."
"She sounds like a bitch, I'm gonna be honest." You snorted out a laugh as you pulled away before he could regret his words. "She is."
"So, what are you going to do?" You shrugged with a sigh. "Nothing. That's what I always do." You've given up trying to defend yourself years ago. Arguing with your mother never ends well because she doesn't argue to understand, she argues to win. "Some people are worth fighting for, but not everyone is worth fighting with."
He says nothing, staring at you from his seat. You wanted to ask him if he understood what you mean, if he understood that the person you mentioned worth fighting for was him, but just not against your mother. But you were already so sick and tired of talking about her.
She's like some sort of negative charge around you, even the thought of her brings darkness and gloom. "It doesn't matter what she thinks. Because in the end of the day, I'm the one who chose to be here, and I haven't regret it so far." His face broke into a grin at that. "No?"
"No." You repeated surely. "Hmm." He ponders. "Does that mean you're up for a repeat next year?" You raise a brow at that. "This year's one isn't even finished, you're already planning for next year's?"
"Of course."
"How do you know if I'll still be around next year?" You weren't sure what kind of answer you were expecting. It was some sort of test, not just for him, but for you too. "Because I know I love you. And I know you love me too."
"Love is a big word." You noted after considering his confession fairly. In most situations regarding intimacy and vulnerability, you'd always find yourself to be stuck in between the flight or fight mode. But this time, you're sitting down with it and letting yourself indulge the possibilities.
"Are you making fun of my vocabulary or are you questioning my sincerity." Oh. that sentence overall were all big words for him you fought over the grin threatening to appear.
"I'm questioning your assumption that I feel the same way as you."
"Well," he starts, "-you're here with me right now aren't you?" He says it in a matter of factly tone, leaning in towards you, wiggling his brows. "That means nothing." You countered his defense.
"If I kiss you right now, would it mean nothing?" The question was so sudden, you scoffed in face for all the words you're unable to say. "If you kiss me right now, it's because I'm letting you do it."
"Because you love me." You relented and matched his smile. "I love...your mother. And I love your siblings." He eyes you suspiciously. "But what I feel for you surpasses the word love." It was cheesy, it was childish, it was you laying your heart out for him and not being ashamed of it.
"Tomato, tomahto. I call it love, you call it whatever you just did." He muttered back His lips captures yours right after. Your palms finds the sides of his face as he kisses you deeper.
You don't hesitate to climb up from your seat to his own. You feel his fingers gripping your waist as you settle yourself over his lap, pushing the headrest down with a freehand, he lets you take the lead as his fingers moves lower to grip on your hips.
There was nothing soft about the kiss, your tongues danced with his and your teeth clashes together. He made sure that there would be no gap between you two. You gasp out for air once you pull away to slip your sweater off of you. You pull your pants down easily along with your underwear.
"Thank god for tinted windows, huh?" He whispers to you breathily as he discards his own clothes and zip open his trousers.
Your response to that joke is to push him back against the seat to kiss him stronger than before. "Jesusfuckingchrist." He swore against your lips when you begin to ground yourself against his hard on.
He lifte his hips up to meet your grinding, the sensation of your bare pussy against his cock. His fingers squeezes into the skin of your ass, making you whine out loudly. "Fuck- I need you." You moaned deliriously humping on him like your life depends on it.
He pulls his cock out of his boxers fully, pushing it inside your wet squelching cunt. He groaned into your ear as you hid your head by his neck. Your hands held onto his shoulders as your hips jumped up and down on his cock. His grip on you is bruising, but it only added to the pleasure.
You feel the head of his penis hitting your clit harshly every time you sink down fully on it. Jacaerys is grunting out your name repeatedly like prayers in the dark and throwing his head back, lost in the pleasure.
"God- Ah, Jace-" He relishes the noises you make as you squeezes his cock with your warm, tight pussy. "So good." It's driving him insane and he's almost breathless as you continue to pleasure yourself using him to get yourself off. "Fuck, baby." He growled.
You held each other through your orgasm, biting into his neck when you felt relief pass through you. That's gonna leave a mark, you thought. But the night was still bright, snow still falling, and neither of you had much energy left to care.
“Jacaerys, we have the heater on, why are you wearing a turtleneck?” Rhaenyra asks as she bring over the big plate of lemon cake to the table. “I like this turtleneck,” was his response to her. A terrible excuse, but she asked nothing more.
You helped her set the table while Jacaerys went over to his brothers’ rooms to wake them up. You could hear him yelling from upstairs, “It’s Christmas morning, get up!”
You refuse to admit to him that te Christmas spirit had gotten into you. Preparing the plates around each seat, you are more excited for the gift unwrapping that’ll be done after breakfast. And the snowball fight. Since when did you become so excited for snowball fights? Since you closed your eyes and tried to imagine this kind of life going on for years and realized that you want nothing less than it.
The kids came running down the stairs, bouncing in every step. “Don’t jump Joffrey, you’ll fall.” Rhaenyra chastised. Lucerys and Joffrey rushed to their seat, Jace following close from behind. “Hurry up, I want to open the presents.” Luc rushed. “You’ll get your presents sooner or later. Now, please eat breakfast slowly, I don’t need you choking on your meals at 9am.” His father’s voice boomed from the hallway as he entered the kitchen.
He had been out all day, buying stocks of eggs and flour for Rhaenyra to use.
“Alright, alright-“ Rhaenyra spoke, sitting down alongside everyone at last. “Who’s gonna say the prayers today? Luc?” The boy immediately shook his head. “I’ll do it.” Jace offered, his mother looked internally grateful. “Alright, go on.”
He takes a deep breath before he holds his fists together and closed his eyes, everyone but you followed through. You watch him begin to thank god for the food on the table and for his family’s good health and fortune before he goes on to thank god for his beautiful girlfriend. Luc mutters out an ‘ew’, which Jacaerys quickly retorts back ‘You just don’t have a girlfriend that’s why you’re jealous.” In the middle of his prayer, earning a warning ‘Jace…’ from his mother.
In the meantime, you were grateful that all of their eyes were closed, so that they wouldn’t be able to see your wide smile and flushed cheeks. I don’t have much faith in god these days, but I’d burn a prayer or two for you, you thought to yourself. And you meant it.
Once he ends his prayers with an Amen, he opens his eyes to connect them with yours first before the silent moment shared was broken by everyone else’s eagerness to eat.
They had not understood the meaning between your shared glances with him. How it was a way for him to tell you that you, just like his family, is his priority. They also don’t know how you had blocked your whole family’s contact list for good. And when you had told him of your action that morning, he looked at you so reassuringly and told you that as long as is he alive, you would never be without a family.
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dixons-sunshine · 10 days
Note
hi I just wanted to start with I really love your writing its just so good. I do have a request and if your not interested its okay it is angst but with a possible happy ending.
so its a daryl x reader where before the apocalypse r and daryl were together and they ended things right before everything went to shit and then when the group gets to Alexandria r is there and she has kid/s (maybe twins?? boy and girl??) so turns out r found out she was pregnant right when everything started happening so daryl didn't know and idk he like puts two and two together yk? and if you're okay with it can she be hispanic/ latin (maybe that can be one of the reasons they broke up bc yk merl is an ass to POC)
anyways sorry if that was a lot or didn't make sense
anyways have a good day/night much love <3
Two Plus Two Makes Four | Daryl Dixon x Hispanic!Fem!Reader
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Summary: A week before the apocalypse, Daryl was forced to break up with you by Merle, leaving you heartbroken, but not alone—soon after he left, you found out you were pregnant. Now, two years later, you come face to face again with the man that broke your heart, and he finds out something shocking.
Genre: Angst, some fluff towards the end.
Era: Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth.
Word count: 1.3k
A/n: Sorry this took so long to finish. I hope this is good enough to make up for the wait! Please note that I used Google translate for this, so the translations may be incorrect or awkward! Feel free to correct me if you spot any mistakes! (Translations will be at the bottom.)
“Kids?! Ya were pregnant and ya didn't fuckin' tell me?!” Daryl bellowed angrily, grabbing your arm to halt you from walking away from him.
You ripped your hand from his grip. “¡No me toques!” You spun around, furiously pointing a finger in your ex boyfriend's direction. “Don't you even dare put this on me, Dixon! You left. You walked out because you cared more about your brother's opinion than you did me! I'm sorry I wasn't gonna baby trap a man who didn't wanna be with me!”
“I deserved to know! I missed two years of their lives 'cause ya didn't tell me! I could of been there fer 'em, for ya, but ya chose to keep it from me!” Daryl exclaimed angrily, following you as you walked into your kitchen. “How could ya keep tha' from me?!”
“You chose to run to your brother the first chance you got! Four years down the drain in an instant for that racist asshole. I didn't owe you anything after that, maldito idiota!”
Daryl stopped in his tracks, instantly regretting starting up this particular argument. You spoke nothing but the truth. You didn't owe him anything. After all, it was him who walked out on you. He chose to let Merle's judgement get to him and influence his relationship. Hell, if it weren't for Merle, he would have proposed to you. He already had a ring picked out and everything back then, but he let Merle ruin everything. It was his own stupidity that cost him two years of his children's lives.
“Mama?”
At the sound of a small, timid voice coming from behind you, both you and Daryl turned and came face to face with your kids, your two year old twins. Your son, Luka, was nervously looking up at you and Daryl while your daughter, Camilla, was standing behind him, holding his hand.
Daryl was struck by the similarities both children shared with him. They both had his eyes, and his hair colour. They were spitting images of him. There was no doubt in his mind that these two children were his. He wasn't blind. He could see they were.
“Everything's fine, amores. I'm just having a conversation with Mr Dixon.”
Camilla stepped forward, her eyes lighting up with wonder. She looked up at Daryl, a smile spreading across her chubby cheeks. “Dixon?” she asked, pointing up at him. “Papa?”
Daryl was surprised. He looked up at you in confusion, silently asking for an explanation. You sent him a strained smile, forcing a relaxed look in front of your children.
“I always talk about you. They deserve to know who their father is. Well, who he was before he left me,” you explained, looking back down at Camilla and Luka.
“Papa?” Luka asked as he stepped forward, his blue eyes that reflected Daryl's sparkling with wonder. “Our papa?”
Daryl looked at you for permission, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. You nodded, silently giving him permission. He was their dad, after all, and he had just as much right to have a relationship with them as you, even if he did leave you. However, that was between him and you, and your children didn't deserve to be denied a relationship with their dad because of it.
The archer bent down, looking between Luka and Camilla as they stared at him in wonder. “Yeah, m'yer papa. M'sorry I wasn't here before, but m'here now. I ain't goin' nowhere.”
Daryl wasn't sure how much of his speech they understood, if they understood anything at all, but it didn't matter. The speech was mainly meant for you. It was to let you know that he wanted to be a part of their lives, and there was just about nothing that could stop him from that.
Camilla and Luka, as if having some sort of twin power, both simultaneously rushed forward and into his arms. Daryl wasted no time in hugging them back, somehow managing to pick them both up and rest them comfortably in his arms. It was relatively late, nearly eight at night and well past their bed times, so they rested their heads on his shoulders, making Daryl's heart swell with fondness. They didn't even know him, only having heard of him through the stories you told them, but they already trusted him. And even though he just found out he had kids, he would kill for them.
“We need to talk, sunshine. This ain't somethin' we can just sweep under the rug,” he told you, allowing you to take Luka from his arms to lighten the load. He adjusted his hold on Camilla, letting out a fond chuckle when he heard her yawn and nuzzle her face deeper into his shoulder.
You let out a sigh and nodded. “I know. But let's get these dormilones to bed first.”
Approximately half an hour later, the twins were tucked into bed and asleep. You and Daryl were back in the kitchen, both having a glass of wine in your hands—liquid courage for the conversation you were about to have.
“M'sorry fer leavin' ya,” Daryl broke the silence first, nervously sloshing the liquid around in his glass. “I dun' even know why I did. Merle's opinions should've never influenced our relationship. I loved ya. I still do. I regret leavin' ya more than anythin' else in my life.”
You inhaled deeply, willing the tears away. For two years you had wanted an explanation, and now you were finally getting one. However, hearing him admit that he still loved you, that you weren't stupid for still loving the man who broke your heart, was both relieving and hurtful.
“You hurt me, Daryl,” you whispered, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I get that Merle was your brother, but you should've never let him influence you like that. I had to go through everything alone. Do you know how hard it was being pregnant and fighting for my life against the dead out there? Do you know how terrified I was? I was lucky enough to find Alexandria a couple of days before I gave birth. If I didn't, I would've given birth out there with the walkers. I probably would've died. Camilla and Luka too.”
Daryl felt the guilt gnawing at his insides. He really hated himself at that moment. “M'sorry, sweetheart. I really fuckin' am. I promise I won't leave again. I dun' expect you to give me a second chance. God knows I dun' deserve it, but I promise I'll be here fer ya and the lil ones. I ain't ever gon' let ya down again, I promise.”
You gave him a small smile, reaching over to take his hand in yours. You rubbed your thumb over his knuckles, something you always did whenever the two of you had a serious talk. “Give me some time, Daryl. I still love you, but I need some time to adjust to the idea of 'us' again. It's been just me and the twins for two years. As far as I knew before today, I thought I wouldn't see you ever again. Just focus on the kids for now, okay? They deserve to know their daddy.”
Daryl's lips twitched up into a smile, and he nodded. “I'll wait as long as ya need me to. I ain't ever gon' let anyone influence us ever again, I can assure ya of tha'. And I ain't ever gon' leave ya to raise 'em alone, never.”
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
¡No me toques!: Don't touch me!
Translations (May be incorrect! Please feel free to correct me if they are!):
maldito idiota!: fucking idiot!
amores: loves.
dormilones: sleepyheads.
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ftmtftm · 3 months
Note
I've been scrolling through your blog, and I saw your post about discussing the racialized nature of gender. As someone who has several transmasc POC friends, and someone who's a nonbinary POC themself, I wanted to give my 2 cents.
It's important to understand that "woman" in the "man vs woman" gender binary is a colonialist, white supremacist construct, especially in Western countries where you are the numerical minority. My trans friends aren't on T, they haven't gotten top surgery, we are all quite young. But they all have numerous stories about being addressed as "sir" which brings them euphoria but as one person said, while we were making fun of the amount of white people in our club, "Due to my race and skin color, I get masculinized."
And again I'd like to emphasize, that since we're young, none of us really have medically transitioned due to financial and familial barriers. Their hair is long, our binders we definitely have notable chests, and even if they dress masculine, it's notable that no one in our communities would ever gender us properly. It's often white people calling them "sir." Again, I think this reflects how gender performances in mainstream queer communities are deeply White. Like, trans boys talk about having haircuts, but only one of my friends has that wavier, more manageable hair that will help them pass. When you've got curly/kinky hair, the standards are different. For a white person, what's the difference between a "girl" Afro and a boy "Afro"? White cis people have a harder time identifying us, and literally talk to any black girl, and they'll tell you about being mocked, dehumanized, and called "manly".
I don't have much else to say. These are just my personal experiences. But if you want to be an ally to POC in the queer community, this is why it's so fucking important to bring in colonialism/imperialism/white supremacy into discussions of queer liberation. My biggest gripe with ignorant white queers is when they ignore their white privilege, and act like "cishets" (AKA the patriarchal system regulating sexuality and gender) is the only enemy. Because cishet POC deal with plenty of shit with being infantilized, masculinized, feminized, seen as brutish & dangerous, the list goes on. Doberbutts had a post saying, "Believe me, your family's going to care more about me being black than my queerness." towards his white partners. Acknowledging and creating a framework that centers these intersections of queerness and race into your beliefs is true allyship. This is why if you're not anti-imperialist, anti-capitalist, ACAB...I do not think you care for queer liberation. None of us are free until all of us are free.
Please don't view this post as an attack. But this is my perspective, and I thought you'd be receptive to me sharing my lived experiences.
Oh I absolutely don't view this ask as an attack, and I really appreciate you bringing these things up because you're right! Like, just very plainly: You are right and your and your friends lived experiences are extremely important to the conversation on the racialized aspects of gender.
It gets me thinking about where Misogynoir and the social White Fear of Black manhood intersect for Black trans men in particular. Because Black women and Women of Color in general are masculinized by White gender standards and the ways in which Black trans masculine people are gendered in alignment with their identity is absolutely not always done with gender affirming intent. In fact, it's often actually done with racist intent or is fueled by racist bias when it's coming from White people or even from non-Black POC.
That's kind of restating things you've said but differently, it's just such a topic worth highlighting explicitly since it's extremely relevant to the conversation that's been happening about Male Privilege here the last few days.
I do think I know exactly what @doberbutts post you're talking about and yeah. It's just truth. It's something Black queer people have been talking about for ages in both theory and in pop culture (my mind immediately goes to Kevin Abstract and "American Boyfriend") where Black queer/trans identity is both materially different from (neutral) and is treated differently from (negative) White queer/trans identity in multitudes of ways and those differences are worth sharing and exploring and talking about.
Genuinely, thank you for sharing! I try really hard not to lead these kinds of conversations outside of explicitly referencing back to non-White theorists because I don't particularly feel like it's my place to do so, but I will always provide a platform for them because they're extremely important conversations to be had.
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ponderingmoonlight · 2 months
Text
Satoru Gojo trying to make a bun with his daughter's kinky hair
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Pairing: husband!Gojo x black!reader
Word Count: 1,1k
Synopsis: It always looked so easy to him, the way you put your thick hair into the most breathtaking hairstyles. But when his daughter asked him to do a sleek bun on her, he was confronted with the stinging fact how difficult styling kinky hair can be. But that doesn't stop the dad of the year from learning...
Warnings: This is the first time ever I'm writing a black reader and I'm beyond excited 😭 I'm hoping with all my heart that you guys like what I came up with! I'm not a poc myself so if this offends you, don't read this work. Also, I'm writing from the point of view of my own research and the tellings of my beloved moot @almostshinymiracle. As usual, there's many ways to do your hair and this specific one might not be yours 🤍
Comments, likes and reblogs are so appreciated, I'd be more than thankful for you guys telling me what you think - THANK YOU 🤍
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Your eyes widen when the loud shriek of your daughter echoes through your house. What’s wrong? Did she hurt herself while playing? As fast as your feet carry you, you run down the hallway and open the door to her room.
But no, your daughter didn’t fall, she didn’t hurt herself. She sits in front of her dad who holds a brush in his hand.
“Hey honey, is everything alright over here?”, you question softly while kneeling down next to both of them.
“I’m so sorry. She said she wants a bun like the one you wear so often and I thought it can’t be that hard. But the brush doesn’t even get through her hair…”, your husband explains, bright blue eyes fixated on his daughter’s hair.
“It’s not that simple with kinky hair, babe. Look, the bristles of your brush are way too tight to get through her hair. That’s why I’m having a special one.”
Oh, how absolutely adorable he looks with his face visibly in guilt, still holding onto the brush that seems to be his while visibly pondering about your soft explanation. Making your daughter’s hair as a dad without experience has to be difficult already, but a girl with black roots and a hair structure completely unknown to him? You chuckle to yourself, remember the countless times he observed you doing your hair already.
“This seems so damn exhausting, babe. Can’t you just…brush it?”
“If I just brush it, I’ll look like a mop. That’s the price I have to pay for having kinky hair I guess.”
“But you look like a princess. My princess”, he purred into your ear while his long fingers tried to brush through your thick hair.
“She just asked me and as her dad…I just wanted to help, y’know”, he mumbles with a pout.
“And I’m so proud of you for trying, Satoru. It’s just an art itself and if you didn’t grow up with it, it’s quite difficult. Sometimes not even hairstylists are able to tame my and her hair from time to time. No worries, I’ll do her hair and I’ll show you how it’s done when there’s enough time, okay?”
You can’t help but give him a kiss on his cheek, letting yourself fall into his arms.
“Mommy, can you do my hair?”, your daughter interrupts your way too short cuddle session.
“Of course, angel. We’ll be ready in 10 minutes, Satoru. Don’t worry about it-“
“My name is baby”, he corrects you before leaving the room, his shoulders almost hanging to the floor.
This doesn’t sit right with you. It shouldn’t hurt him like this that he wasn’t able to do his daughter’s hair when it’s absolute not comparable to his very own. Mindlessly, you run your fingers through her thick mane that is so similar to yours, so familiar that you’d be able to make a sleek bun with eyes closed. You’ll definitely show him how to take care of his daughter’s hair when there’s more time than today.
“Is daddy sad?”, your daughter asks innocently while you apply gel.
“He was so excited to do your hair, honey. But with kinky hair like ours, this can be really difficult, you know?”
“It hurt…”, she admits shyly.
“Did it hurt as much as doing braids?”
Your little daughter chuckles while you tickle her playfully on her neck.
-the next day-
The heartfelt laughter of your daughter makes your eyes flutter open. What time is it? Given the fact that the sun already rose, it has to be late in the morning. Your naked feet meet the cold wooden floor, carry you to her room on their own. Satoru’s side of the bed was already cold when you woke up. Did he have to leave for a mission? Or is he the reason why his precious little daughter laughs?
“Okay, let me remove the scarf from your cute little head. Is this how mommy does your hair?”
You stop in your tracks, already grinning from ear to ear like an idiot. A scarf wrapped around her daughter’s head? You know exactly what that means.
“That tickles!”, your daughter shrieks.
“Shhh, don’t you wake up Mommy before I’m done here, okay? I want this to be a surprise.”, Satoru whispers exaggeratedly mute.
It takes all your strength to not break out in laughter, to stay hidden behind the slightly open door.  
“Okay, now let me wrap this around it…and…Fast, I need a bobby pin, honey!”
Your heart almost overflows with warmth. When did he learn how to do his daughter’s hair, what steps it takes to create a sleek bun with kinky hair? It’s hard to keep you from entering the room, to keep your composure. The urge to see what he’s doing becomes almost unbearable-
“Did you hear that daddy?”
“Yeah, that sounded almost as if someone behind that door stalks us!”
With a swift motion, your husband exposes you to his bright blue orbs. Your heart skips a beat. Is he mad, disappointed? The look on his face is rather amused, calms down your tingling nerves.
Until you look at your daughter.
Your precious little daughter with a perfect sleek bun.
“Oh my”, you breathe out.
Instantly, you kneel down in front of her, eyeing her from every angle. He really managed to put all her unruly hair in one of your afro puff hair ties, the whole package covering the floor along with multiple tubes of different gels and countless diverse brushes. It looks like an absolute mess around her room, different brands and tools clustered around. But you only have eyes for your daughter and beloved husband.
“This looks absolutely stunning!”
“Do you…really think so?”, Satoru mutters while scratching the back of his head.
Is the strongest jujutsu sorcerers of your time really…blushing? Immediately you grab his hand covered in dried gel and press a passionate kiss against his cheek.
“She looks like a model, I couldn’t have done it better! How did you do this? Only yesterday, you didn’t know what to do!”
“I did some research…”
“The whole night?”
“The whole night.”
“This looks fantastic!”, your daughter cries out when seeing herself in the mirror, twisting and turning herself in order to soak in her gorgeous bun.
“You always make it look so easy. Sometimes I forget how much skill this requires”, he mumbles against your ear, dragging your body onto his lap.
“I hope you’ll remind this when you ruin my hair next time”, you playfully reply.
“Want me to ruin your hair right now?”
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olderthannetfic · 4 months
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This was a thing talked about here like a few months ago, but I feel like it's still relevant: If you have a foreign name, chances are people who don't speak that language are not going to pronounce it correctly, and you just need to deal with it. I'm sorry but it's just such a tired issue. No where else in the world outside of the WEST and Anglophone countries are people THIS ANAL about pronouncing a name exactly as you would in the language of origin.
It's especially stupid since it's made a race issue, when I probably don't know a single Slavic, Gaelic, or whatever else name that actually gets pronounced correctly by people outside those language branches. And there are tons of poc people who can't pronounce foreign names either, or, because that's actually the standard, people don't actually care enough to do so anyway outside the West.
--
Eh. A lot of people have responded like this, and all of them are conflating a bunch of things and glossing over that actual issue.
This very stupid ask is nearly identical to several that came in at the time.
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I don't expect people to attempt to pronounce my own name like it's German. Hell, I don't. (And also, Mom couldn't spell...) But if you can't figure out that it's not Francesca after me telling you 20 times, you are clearly not listening.
A lot of people here react to ~too foreign~ names by saying a random collection of consonants that are not the real name translated into their own accent, then giggling, and saying—in a knowing voice—that the person's name is hard.
Half the time, it's just some black woman's name that's not even that weird in the US.
If you haven't been around idiots here faceplanting over black names, then you don't know what I'm talking about and you can shut your cakehole. It's this whole Thing here.
A lot of the time, these are sounds the person can say in their very own dialect. They just insist on replacing them with other sounds that they think are more normative or that reflect the spelling instead of the pronunciation someone actually told them. Five times. Politely.
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zombyjuice · 4 months
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INSECURITIES AND SHOPPING! ✧(σ๑˃̶̀ꇴ˂̶́)σ wonbin🎀❄️🦷🐰
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In which wonbin is finally yours and he’s been learning things about you he thought he would definitely know by now.
Bf!wonbin x poc!reader
kinda sad idk and cute and smutty!! kindaaa pt.2 from this!
Wonbin knows you, inside and out he knows you yet he’s still learning new things about you.
He knew growing up was tough I mean growing up foreign anywhere in fact is tough and he knew how strong you were but he didn’t know all the racism you encountered.
You’ve discussed it once before “Well a lot of people here are just arrogant and I can’t put a big say in it I’m like Obama black to them but Koreafyed”.
But he just learned that the girls were brutal and the boys were pervs, them ruining your self-esteem.
The day you came with your hair done in box braids he could see you turning over into yourself, he could tell you didn't know if you liked it or not “You look so pretty my love, matches you so well” he saw your entire mood shift, it broke his heart.
“Really?! I was so nervous it wouldn't match me or I'd look dumb as fuck, oh em Gee or people would think I'm just some Korean girl trying to be black” You dramatically fell into his arms squeezing him tight, fake sniffling.
He smiled with so much love he thought you were so silly “I don't think anyone would've thought that nobody cares about cultural appropriation in Korea” you laughed out loud.
Waking up to him slipping his pretty cock in you and giving you a good fuck is not usually how you'd start the day.
He’d move you on top of him letting you hug him while he fucks you with his sloppy thrusts and whimpers, grabbing at your ass and giving light slaps not forgetting to finish inside you with multiple whiny “I love you”s. he would keep you stuffed till he got the energy to get up. “So pretty baby so pretty”.
“Wanna go out? I'll buy you some stuff I saw you were running out of concealer,” he'd bear hug you from behind moving his hands all along your front pinching at your tummy and squeezing at your boobs you stifle a giggle trying to concentrate on brushing your teeth “Could get all pretty together take pictures and stuff” he mumbled in your neck.
“Mhmm of course I love that” you smile spitting out whatever remains in your mouth and cleaning it off, turning to your beautiful boyfriend and giving a kiss on his lips.
He thinks you're just so lovely and he's gonna make sure you know.
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Always There - Chapter Two: S.Snape
Summary: Y/N Potter was left with a baby to care for after her brother and sister-in-law were murdered by Voldemort. One person was there for her, a person she didn’t expect but soon became her comfort person, Severus Snape. During Harry’s third year at Hogwarts and her third year as Herbology professor, a few old friends come around again. Y/N has to handle the feelings of these old friends being around again as well as handle her feelings for a certain potions master all while she tries to hide these things from her godson.
Series Masterlist
My full Masterlist
Pairings: Severus Snape x Female Professor Reader, Potter!Reader x friend!Remus
Chapter Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader(No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, Harry growing up in a loving home, mentions of death and murder, mentions of Azkaban, shittyly written angst, flashbacks,
Series Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader (No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, OOC Snape, Harry grows up in a loving environment, mentions of death and murder, poorly written angst, Remus is a shitty friend, poorly written pining,
Please let me know how I can improve my writing and being more inclusive to POC as I am whiter than white. Please also let me know if I have to add more to the warnings! My messages are open as well as my asks!
I am starting a taglist so leave either a comment or something in my asks if you would like to be tagged in any of my works or just this series!
Author's Note: Please let me know how I can improve or if you find any errors! Correct me, don't be afraid to! I want to improve my writing and become a better writer so any feedback or advise is welcomed!
Word Count: 1994
My asks are open for questions, suggestions and feedback!
Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!
Enjoy!
not my gif
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not my gif
About a week after the two professors had fallen asleep whilst talking, everything was kind of normal. Y/N was actively avoiding Remus and Severus has been particularly rude to the new professor. Harry had finally taken to questioning his aunt about her strange behavior and Snape’s aggressive nature toward Remus. He had waited until after dinner, following her into the greenhouse.
“Aunt Y/N, Professor Lupin said he knew my parents. Did you know him too?” Harry asked, trying to mask his intentions.
“You just want to know why I avoid him, don’t you?” She sighed, looking her nephew in the eye.
“I can’t hide anything from you, can I?”
“You certainly cannot, my love. I know you too so I know you won’t leave me alone until I tell you or you pester Sev enough to tell you. Come sit with me, this is gonna be a longer talk than I want it to be but you deserve to know everything about the situation,” She explained. The two Potters entered her office and sat on the very same couch Minerva had spotted Y/N and Severus the week earlier. “We can start off with how I first met Remus. We met on platform 9 ¾ right before the train came, James was off with some of his friends…”
**
The platform was bustling with witches and wizards alike, the anticipation waiting for the Hogwarts Express was palpable. James was off chatting with Sirius and Y/N was sitting on the ground with her nose stuck in her herbology book. Her mind was racing because she was nervous about what house she would be put in, she was wondering who her professors were, if they were nice and so on. James promised her that all of the professors were nice, Dumbledore, McGonagall and Slughorn were some he mentioned by name. Although James had tried reassuring her, it didn’t do much to help ease her nerves.
“You’re James’ sister, right?” A voice came from her right, startling her slightly, “Sorry to frighten you, he has a picture of the two of you in our dorm so I thought I’d say hi. My name is Remus.”
“Like Remus and Romulus? That’s pretty cool. I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you,” She said. The two had begun chatting, talking about where they lived, what their families were like, Remus asked her what subject she was most excited to learn about and of course the young witch had said Herbology.  
Once the train had arrived, Remus and Y/N boarded together, talking all the while as they tried to find a compartment to sit in. The only empty one was in the back of the train so the two sat and talked the whole ride to Hogwarts, The conversation only pausing when the sweets trolley rolled by and when James and Sirius had popped in to say hello.
Their friendship only grew from there, Remus helping her study for DADA and History Of Magic and Y/N helping him study for Charms and Herbology. Once Remus had joined James, Sirius and Peter, the five wizards got up to lots of trouble. Although Y/N was a year younger than the other four, she was more than willing to help out with pranks. Her and Remus, however, were the only two that strayed away from bullying other students, especially Severus Snape.
**
“That was how Remus and I became friends, he was the fastest friend I had ever made. We talked for only like a minute and became friends right away. We got closer and closer as the years went on. I'll spare some details about our friendship because we got into some trouble or we would just hang out in the library reading or studying. Everything got rough once James and Lily were killed.”
**
Remus showed up to the destroyed house in Godric’s Hollow, Y/N outside of the fence with a crying Harry in her arms, Severus standing beside her, his cloak over her shoulders to keep her warm in the cold autumn air. 
“Y/N, is it true? He killed them?” Remus asked her.
“J-Jamie and Lils are dead, h-he tried t-to kill Harry but he s-survived somehow,” She stuttered out behind her tears. Severus excused himself so the two friends could talk things out.
“Peter is dead, Sirius was the one who sold them out, he murdered Peter and a dozen muggles,” He explained, “Listen, dove, I need to go, I’ll send you an owl okay?” She just nodded and watched him apparate away. 
She was left for a while to cry, until Severus showed up and escorted her elsewhere, somewhere she could be safe and warm with baby Harry. Somewhere she could escape the reality that faced her, she was alone with a child she didn’t know how to care for, a child that would be legend. A boy who lived, the only known survivor of the killing curse and the defeater of Lord Voldemort. 
**
“I know you like professor Lupin and I understand that, he's a great guy. He just left me at a time where I really needed him. We got into an argument last week and I’ve been avoiding him since,” Y/N explained, “I don’t want any of this to change the way you look at Lupin, he’s an incredibly smart man and an extremely talented wizard.”
Harry decided to let things go until winter came around. He had once again been attacked by a dementor, luckily Dumbledore stopped his fall before he hit the ground of the Quidditch pitch. Harry went to Remus for help but he was too weak at the time, after the break he was promised a lesson about patronuses, a way to keep himself safe from dementors. 
Harry had the wonderful idea to sneak around Hogsmeade with the invisibility cloak (even though he had permission to go), finding out from Minerva, after sneaking in behind her and the minister of magic, that Sirius Black was his godfather. Herminone and Ron helped Harry back to Hogwarts, where he sought out his aunt.This of course, was against the advice of Hermione who told him to just sleep it off and talk to her in the morning. He knew she was in the greenhouses, either tending to the plants or grading student papers. What he didn’t expect to find was her and the potions master laughing over tea. He stared at the pair, tears threatening to leave his eyes, the sense of betrayal weighed heavy on him.
“You knew,” He uttered. The two professors stopped laughing and turned to Harry, not expecting him to be in her office.
“What happened, my love? Why are you so upset?” Y/N asked, her voice laced with concern for her nephew.
“You knew,” He repeated.
“What are you talking about Harry? What did I know?” She was confused, she had never seen her nephew so distraught over something before, she wanted nothing but to help him with whatever he was dealing with.
“You knew that Sirius Black killed my parents! You knew that Sirius Black ratted them out to Voldemort! You knew Sirius Black! You know he’s my godfather! He was your friend!” Harry finally shouted at his aunt.
“There is no need to shout, Harry, come sit, let’s talk this out,” Y/N said calmly although deep down she too, was distraught. She had never wanted Harry to know about Sirius’ role in his life but somehow, he had found out.
“No, I want you to tell me right here! I don’t want to sit and talk!”
“That is no way to speak to your aunt, Harry,” Snape chimed in, upset with how the boy was screaming at his aunt, the woman who cared for him and loved him his whole life.
“You shut up, this has nothing to do with you!”
“Harry! Apologize to him right now!” Y/N scolded, the tension in the room was rising, she knew at any moment that Harry would snap and in turn so would Severus.
“NO! He has no right to be a part of this conversation! It’s between me and you!” Severus was about to go at the boy but once Y/N had laid her hand on his shoulder, he stopped short. The pair made eye contact, Severus knowing she wanted to handle this by herself so he excused himself to her office to get the potion ingredients he originally came to her for.
“I knew about Sirius being your godfather, yed. Of course I did, I’m your godmother, the two of us did everything for you until Sirius turned on us. He was your father’s best friend,” Y/N told her nephew.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Harry demanded the answer.
“I didn’t want you to know, you’ve dealt with enough in your life, I didn’t want to add another thing on top of it.”
“So you knew he sold out my parents to Voldemort?”
“Yes, I knew. Trust me Harry, I didn’t like it just as you don’t. I feel just as betrayed if not more because he was like a brother to us,” Y/N tried to explain, somehow keeping herself calm throughout the conversation even though she kept seeing the picture of her brother dead on the floor in her mind.
“You feel betrayed! You’ve lied to me my whole life! You never told me anything! Nothing about Professor Lupin, nothing about Sirius Black, nothing about Peter Pettigrew! Why?” Harry went back to shouting at his aunt, a glass next to her shattering to pieces.
“Because it hurts me Harry! It hurts to even think about it, let alone talk about it! Remus and Sirius were my brothers and they betrayed me! Peter at least died instead of betraying us, instead of leaving me! It pains me to talk about your father but I do it anyway, for you! Everything I do is for you Harry, don’t you realize that! You are the most important thing in my life! You expect me to just turn around and hurt you the way I got hurt once I learned about all of this!” She shouted back, the glass from some of her cabinets shattered as she shouted at the boy.
“If I’m the most important thing in your life, why lie? Why hide this from me!” Harry was now just looking for a fight, he was getting information out of his aunt by upsetting her so he continued to do it. 
“Because I love you! Because I care about you! You are my boy! You are like the son I never got to have! You are exactly like your father! Your father that I miss every single day because he was my best friend! You are the only family I have Harry James Potter! You are the only family I will ever have!” She had begun crying, wiping her tears as they came to try and appear like she was not crying even though Harry knew she was. 
“You’re not my mother! You will never be my mother!” Harry screamed at her, this caused the woman to burst into tears, Severus had come back into the room once he had heard her crying.
“That’s enough Harry, go back to your dormitory,” Severus said sternly.
“No!”
“Stop acting like a defiant child and do as I say. You’ve done enough, you wanted your answers, you got them. Now go!” The potion’s master was furious at the boy, he had never seen Harry act this way before, in all the years of knowing him, this had never happened. Harry had stormed out of the greenhouse leaving the two professors once again. The day had started off cheerful and happy and ended with Y/N in despair and spiraling due to not only her nephew but remembering what she had seen and the trials and tribulations she had gone through.
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