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avis-writeshq · 2 months

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omg omg please for track four of your event 🙈 we know that sparks fly!reader calls spencer ‘Walter’ but can we get the first time he calls her ‘angel’ please???? 💕💕

l.d.s.k – spencer reid [bonus 'sparks fly' chapter]

summary: in other words, the first time spencer calls you an angel pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff warnings: rated 15+ for general criminal minds violence, canon compliant with s1 e6 ‘L.D.S.K’, a hint of Derek slander oops, not beta read wc: 2.2k a/n: many many apologies for the delay anon! i hope this can live up to your expectations! sparks fly masterlist | event page

“Reid failed his qualification,” Elle tells you as she makes her way into the bullpen looking flawless as ever.

Her words bring you out of your daily crossword puzzle, your brows furrowing. “He failed?”

“Well, he can re-test in two weeks,” Gideon says dismissively, making his way over to the water dispenser.

Elle shrugs, craning her head to look at him. “They took his gun this morning,” she replies. She looks back over. “Be gentle.”

“I’m always gentle,” you tell her, harshly erasing a wrong answer in your puzzle. “Was that not already obvious?”

“I’m not talking to you,” Elle responds swiftly, her gaze set on Derek’s forehead.

Derek is quick to raise his hands in surrender, but the glimmer of amusement sparks in his eyes. You narrow your own just as Spencer comes walking through the glass doors with Gideon following behind him. The young doctor looks dejected as ever, the grip he has on the strap of his bag so tight that his knuckles blanche.

He slumps down onto his desk beside you, turning the computer on with a scowl. You open your mouth to say something, an attempt of making him feel better, but Derek beats you to it.

“We’re all here for you,” Derek says, noticing the way Spencer avoids his gaze. “I’m serious.”

It starts off well. Spencer finally begrudgingly looks Derek in the eye, an unimpressed look on his face.

“If you ever need anything,” Derek continues, fishing something out of his pocket. You lean over the desk divider to get a better look, but apparently you don’t need to. A shrill whistle sound fills the air, and Morgan snickers in jest. “Just blow on that.”

Spencer’s face falls into a stern frown as he hurries to rip the whistle off his neck, throwing it onto his desk.

You try once more to offer any form of condolences but your efforts are once again cut off by JJ carrying a stack of manila folders and passing them off to the team. You don’t pay much attention to what she’s saying (something about a shooting and three victims?), your gaze fixed on Spencer’s troubled face. The others rattle off about long distance serial killers and profiling, and you can’t help but feel a little bad for your lack of contribution, but your thoughts are filled with more pressing matters.

After the briefing and Hotch saying a simple, “Wheels up in twenty”, you turn in Derek’s direction as you stuff your bag with files and random pieces of stationary. Elle sits within earshot, packing her own things.

“Why are you so mean to him?” Your voice carries no malice and you don’t look in his direction at all, head down as you furrow through your go-bag.

Derek’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“To Spencer,” you clarify, “like, just now. He was already in a bad mood. You didn’t really have to say much else.”

“I’m just… toughening him up,” Derek says with a shrug.

“This job would do that by itself. Spencer doesn’t need to ‘toughen up’, and this job doesn’t need your help to do that, either.” You lift your shoulder noncommittally. “I think you’re just insecure.”

Elle cackles at that, stifling her laughter behind her fist while Derek snaps his head in your direction. “Alright then, I’ll bite. How am I insecure?”

“You’re a classic alpha male, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but you’re an alpha male who is in a work environment where almost every other man is also an alpha male. Spencer is the opposite; he’s more timid which, again, not a bad thing, and he’s also more intellectually gifted.” A wry smile spreads across your face as you hoist your bag off your desk and sling it over your shoulder. “You’re insecure that he’s smarter than you and because he’s the quote-un-quote ‘weakest’ of the pack, you just can’t help but pick on him.”

“Reid and I are friends,” Derek says defensively. “And come on, you can’t tell me that you don’t his ramblings a little bit annoying.”

You hum. “I don’t find them annoying. Even if I did, I wouldn’t cut my friends off when they’re talking about something they find interesting.”

Spencer doesn’t mean to eavesdrop. He swears that it was never his intention– he just forgot his wallet on his desk after everything that happened that morning. Regardless, hearing you defend him in such a way is enough to make his stomach flip.

He’s barely known you for two years. He joined the team a little after you did, granted, he was a permanent addition to the team while you at the time was just interning as a part of the course you were taking. It was only after a very long discussion with Hotch that you became a solid member of the BAU (you told Spencer all of this while you shook out your hands and by extension the nerves you experienced when you were seated in front of your boss’s desk with your resume. It took everything in him to not grab onto your hands and hold them firmly in his).

Even when you were an intern and only at work two out of the five workdays, Spencer was able to find solace in you. He didn’t really understand the logistics of it, much to his chagrin, but he has chalked it up to you being a little younger than him and feeling that slight twinge of ‘protectiveness’ over you. It doesn’t make sense, he gathers upon second thought, you don’t need protecting. Despite that, he finds himself gravitating to you as if you were the earth and he was the moon. You, full of life and all things wonderful, and him, a dim light that he hopes could brighten up your darkest nights.

He doesn’t think that that comparison is accurate enough, is the conclusion he comes to when he hears you chastise Derek for his lack of compassion. It isn’t so much ‘chastising’ as it is stating a fact. Spencer thinks you’re an angel and that everyone should kiss the floor you walk on. His head spins with facts about angels and their origins. He mumbles the facts under his breath, considering all the different backgrounds of angels and the connotations of viewing you as such. Spencer scrunches his nose in annoyance. He’ll be thinking about this the entire flight.

***

You sit next to him during the flight. Your hands are in your lap as you fiddle with your fingertips, almost as if you’re contemplating something. Spencer glances at you expectantly from the corner of his eye, ignoring the book he is supposed to be reading.

“I know I shouldn’t really have to say this, but don’t worry about Derek,” you tell him through a hushed whisper. “He’s just being an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Spencer says, trying to not look fazed about the situation. “I know.”

You shift again in your seat before playfully flipping his collar upwards. “I like this shirt on you. Red is totally your colour.”

He thinks it’s pathetic, the way his eyes light up and the way he physically preens at your compliments. “There have been studies on the colour red and how it may impact one’s perceptions of others. Actually, it has been found that seeing the colour red can cause an elevation in blood pressure, enhanced metabolism, and a spike in heart rate which are all physiological changes associated in increased energy levels. Another study showed that those who wear red are perceived to be more sexually appealing than those who wear other colours.”

His cheeks flare in embarrassment upon realising the insinuation of his words and he hurriedly backtracks. “Not that I was expecting anything! It was just interesting and–”

“Walter, it’s fine.” You laugh, rolling your eyes. “It’s okay! You’re right, it is interesting.”

Spencer doesn’t think you’re an angel anymore. He knows it. He manages to crack a smile. “You think so?”

You nod enthusiastically, looking over at him. “Tell me more.”

He thinks that he might faint.

***

The hospital is under lockdown. Your head spins when you see SWAT making their way through the lobby, armed in heavy bulletproof uniform and guns that are at least half your height. You’ve never had to work a situation where they had to be called and the severity of the situation sinks in.

“Hotch and Spencer will be okay, right?” You ask worriedly, glancing over to where Gideon is trying to negotiate with the captain.

“They’re good at what they do,” JJ reassures gently, squeezing your arm. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Gideon returns with a disgruntled frown, gesturing with annoyance towards the SWAT team. “They’re taking the ER in three minutes.”

“That’s it?” Your words are quiet as you try not to attract the attention of the people in said team. “So, what, Hotch and Spencer need to talk down a crazy armed sociopath in three minutes?”

“It’s like they don’t even want our help,” Elle says through a grumble. “What’s the point of asking us here if they’re not even going to listen to us?”

Somehow, those three minutes are both the longest and shortest three minutes of your life. There’s nothing you can do except wait and even then, the hospital is borderline silent. You’re not necessarily sure if that’s a good thing. You watch with the others as SWAT trek up the stairs in formation, and you wring your hands out nervously. Time continues to tick by and just when you’re sure that you’ll be stuck here for the next however many hours, a loud bang rings through the hospital. It’s so sudden that you jolt on the spot, your head snapping towards the door.

A few civilians, all accompanied by SWAT agents, make their way through the doors and towards the ambulances stationed outside. You follow them out, taking in a breath of fresh night air while a shiver runs down your spine from the cool breeze. Everything seems to be in order and everyone seems to be calm and collected. That must be a good sign, right?

Spence grimaces from his spot on the back of an ambulance, rubbing at his lower torso. The pain isn’t that bad anymore, but it does feel a little raw from where Hotch repeatedly kicked him. His face is bruised from where Phillip Dowd hit him with the back of his rifle. The gun he used feels heavy in his pocket and he genuinely isn’t used to it being there.

“You alright?” Hotch asks. He’s using a softer tone, one that Spencer isn’t particularly accustomed to.

Spencer nods, his arms crossed over his stomach. “Yeah.”

“Nice shot.”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “I was aiming for his leg.”

Hotch looks a little amused before he continues, “I wouldn’t have kept kicking but I was afraid you didn’t get my plan.”

“I got your plan the minute you moved the hostages out of my line of fire,” Spencer says genuinely, nodding.

“Well, I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly,” Hotch says guiltily.

Spencer can’t help but laugh quietly. “Hotch, I was a twelve year old child prodigy in a Las Vegas public high school. You kick like a nine year old girl.” He pauses, offering the gun back to him.

“No, keep it,” Hotch says, patting Spencer squarely on the shoulder. “As far as I’m concerned you passed your qualification.”

Spencer offers a smile as his boss walks away, his gaze meeting yours as you hurry over to him. “Hey–”

“Walter, your face,” you lament with a frown, reaching a hand out to brush against the bruising.

Spencer flinches, hissing softly and you pull back. “It’s still a little sore.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, glancing again at his injuries, worry laced in your tone and etched upon your features.

“You’re an angel,” Spencer says softly in a daze, watching the way the flashing lights from the ambulance.

Heat travels up towards your cheeks at his words and you press the backs of your hands against your face in an attempt to calm yourself down. “I’m not an angel.”

He’s in too deep to try and backtrack so he nods. “You are,” he says honestly, looking up at you from where he sits on the ambulance. “And if you can call me by my middle name, doesn’t that mean I can give you a nickname too?”

“Well, I guess,” you relent, your heart still aching at the sight of the bruise on the side of his face.

He beams at you as he pockets the gun. “Alright, then, angel.”

Your cheeks grow hot again and this time you feel the blood rush to your ears. “It’ll take a while to get used to it.”

He laughs. “But you’ll get used to it.”

“I heard what you did in there,” you say swiftly, effectively changing the subject. “You don’t need that whistle anymore.”

Spencer nods and smiles. “Yeah. Thanks, angel.”

“Anytime, Walter.”

reblogs are always appreciated!

sparks fly masterlist | event page

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lycheedr3ams · 10 months

Text

Taming You

fem!reader x toxic!konig

MDNI | DDDNE

Warnings: konig is misogynist, controlling, possessive, slight yandere, pervert konig, toxic masculinity, marking, dub-con, p in v sex, brief mention of ass-slapping, dark content ahead

DO NOT DO THIS IRL EVER. THIS IS ONLY FOR FANTASY

toxic konig really turns me on and i had to write about it

i accidentally posted this before i came up with a title so if you saw "tbd" as the title, no you didnt

you had first spoken with konig when he needed your help to fix one of his work tablets. you had seen him around on base before, his eyes always on you as you went past, but neither of you approached the other. it took you a few days to fix his device, and during those days you learned his type - it was you. his recent searches on porn websites that he didn't bother to erase described you a little too closely. and the situations that he looked up with your bodily descriptions, well, they made you feel a little sick.

you handed his tablet back to him with a forced smile. but he was so polite as he thanked you that you began to wonder if you had misread his searches.

"danke, meine Schatz," he said so gently as he took the tablet from your hands slowly as not to startle you. the sweet tone in his voice made you let down your guard for a moment. it reflected so obviously in your eyes, and the way your smile became a little less forced and showed more teeth.

"if you ever have a problem with anyone here, you let me know, ja?" he said gently again, as if he were telling you a bedtime story. you blinked and your smile faltered slightly as you processed his words. this time, your smile attempted to tame the beast. to fawn.

"i haven't had any problems here thankfully, i think everything will be okay," you said with a shaky voice.

konig stared at you for a moment, silent and dark, before his voice adopted that soothing tone that no one else had ever heard from him. "still. you come to me. for anything. ja?"

you just nodded as you smiled. there was no way you would get him off your back by fighting him. not that you could, even if you wanted to, verbally or physically.

...

somewhere along the line, konig had become your boyfriend. you weren't really sure how it happened. he asked you out to dinner a few times, and each time, you said yes. you were too scared to say no. konig was always gentle with you though. he always held the door open for you, tipped the waitress well, didn't get handsy with you too soon.

but you would argue with him sometimes. or rather, you would be put in your place.

"you have quite a mouth, you know?" he said lowly as he looked down at you. you challenged his stare with one of your own, but it began to crack as he began to stand up to his full height. "your past man friends let you talk to them like this?"

you nodded, too scared to speak.

konig shook his head from side to side. "not with me, Schatz." his eyes seemed to go even darker from underneath his hood. "you don't talk to me like that, ever," he growled. he bent his back slightly so that he was now completely leaning over you. "i'll teach you how a woman should talk to her man. i will make you behave."

your breathing was deeper as he emphasized that last word. his demeanor, how he was talking to you, infuriated you. everything in your logical mind told you to get a restraining order from him, to switch jobs, block him, to never see him again. your mind told you he was dangerous. controlling.

but the throbbing in your core and your slick-drenched panties told you something else. you stared up at him through your lashes defiantly, but said nothing.

konig seemed slightly satisfied with that. "see? you can be a good girl. you're not used to being with a man. you've been with boys. i will change that."

...

konig tamed you with his cock. you hated to admit that. you denied it every chance you could.

"all it takes is a hard cock to make you behave," he grunted into your ear as he fucked you with your ass in the air and your face pressed into the mattress. you moaned without abandon, relishing the way he perfectly filled you up with each thrust.

you were always so much more obedient after he fucked you. he wouldn't miss the near hearts in your eyes after each session. how you'd look at him so innocently and sweetly as he stroked your hair.

"you're getting better," he whispered into your hair. "you barely talk back anymore. that's how a woman should be."

you knew the things you "talked back" to konig about would all be evidence for a restraining order from him. how he threatened to keep you locked in his room when he saw a text from a guy on your phone (it was your cousin), how he nearly killed the guy who accidentally bumped into you in the hallway one night, how he'd give you so many dark hickeys that you couldn't possibly hide them for work, how he'd silently dare you to talk back to him when he said something you didn't agree with. but all you did was stare angrily at him, and feel your core throb as he tamed you.

but sex with him wasn't always loving. most of the time, it wasn't. he'd hold you down despite your protests of it being too much, and just slam his cock into you over and over and over again. he'd toss you onto any surface he could before he rushed up behind you and shoved it in. he didn't care who heard, or who saw. everyone needed to know that you were his.

but that was evident enough even without hearing you scream his name almost every night. it was the way he would be right behind you wherever you were when he wasn't on duty. how you could barely use the women's restroom without him growing sour. how he'd stare daggers into any man who even dared to glance at you, or how he'd slap your ass in front of a room full of people just so show off his cute little trophy. the way you yelped each time he did it was just so cute.

he did train you how to be the woman he wanted. an obedient, pliable woman who never protested anything he said, and took his cock gratefully every time he gave it to you.

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 6 months

Text

I Know Places.

Synopsis - Jake always joked that he'd kill for you. One fateful day, he does just that.

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Female Reader (Callsign - Ivy) - Bonnie&Clyde inspired au

Warnings - cursing. very near SA. mentions of abuse/assault. mentions of blood, gunshots and violence. mentions of suicide. please, do not read if any of these warnings will affect you.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 3.1k

Author's Note - i'm not sure what happened, because this was really fluffy in my head. it ended up kind of dark, but i'm rolling with it. i like writing a different side of jake. just in time for halloween too. this was written for @laracrofted 1989TGM celebration!! <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

You stand with your hand on my waistline

It's a scene, and we're out here in plain sight

I can hear them whisper as we pass by

It's a bad sign, bad sign

Jake's always had impeccable timing.

He'd tell you, later, that he sensed it. Just knew. Felt it in his gut, some sort of warning from the universe. He had to get to you.

The Admiral has you half bent over the desk in his office, fingers twisted into your underwear. He's trying to pull them down your legs when the door swings open.

You're paralysed, frozen with fear. The look on your face must tell Jake enough. He gets the message, understands your silent communication.

The Admiral stops. Backs away. As if putting distance between you will erase what he's been caught doing. Trying to do.

You expect Jake to yell, fight, throw The Admiral across the room by his collar. You expect blood, bruises, broken skin and bared teeth.

All you're met with is silence.

Jake strides across the room towards you. Fixes your clothes, smooths down your hair. Wipes the tears from your cheeks. He snakes a hand around your waist and guides you out of the door. Not a word said.

Something happens when everybody finds out

See the vultures circling, dark clouds

Love's a fragile little flame, it could burn out

It could burn out

"He'll ruin my career."

You're tucked into Jake's lap, legs slung over his hips as he holds you close. His rough fingertips run themselves up and down your spine, comforting and gentle. You inhale his musk, letting the familiarity fill your lungs.

"You didn't do anything wrong, baby."

"That won't matter."

The two of you are whispering, hushed voices bouncing off the furniture. You're alone together in Jake's living room. There's no one else around. You think he's scared he'll spook you. You're right.

"I worked so hard for this, Jake. I sacrificed everything to get into Top Gun."

"I know, baby."

"I can't lose it all."

He presses a tender kiss to your forehead, brushing your hair back from your eyes.

"What do you want to do? Report him?"

"Jake, you're not listening to me. He'll ruin my career."

"But he's the guilty one. Not you."

"Yeah, well. This is the way it works. Men can assault you and still play the victim."

You're frustrated, now. There's something bubbling, running through your veins. You can't put your finger on it. It feels like more than rage. Whatever it is, it's lethal.

You climb off Jake's lap and stand, pacing across the carpet.

"What am I supposed to do?" you murmur, tears threatening to spill.

Jake can't stand the wobble in your voice. It tightens something in his chest, pulls at his heartstrings. He was furious, before. He's just sad now.

"I'll do anything you ask," he tells you, standing up to cradle your face in his hands. "Anything in the world."

"I know."

And you do. That's what it's like, being with Jake. He loves so entirely, with his whole being. Every fibre of his heart belongs to you. It beats to the rhythm of your name.

"Just tell me what you wanna do, baby. I'm on your side. No matter what."

You lean up to kiss him, his lips soft and careful against yours.

"I'm not sure, yet. When I know, you'll know."

Jake sits back down on the couch, pulling you with him. You tuck yourself into his side, fitting there perfectly. He slings an arm around your waist and keeps you close, holding you a little tighter than usual.

Cause they got the cages, they got the boxes

And guns

They are the hunters, we are the foxes

And we run

"We should kill him."

You're strewn across Jake's chest, tangled in the sheets. Your limbs and hearts are intertwined, bodies drenched in sweat and lungs heaving.

"What?"

You sit up, pulling the comforter up and over your body slightly to combat the chill of the ocean breeze that's filtering through the open window.

"Let's kill him."

You look over to your boyfriend, waiting for the punchline. It never comes.

"Jake."

He turns to you, the most serious you've ever seen him. There's a look in his eye you've never seen before. It's dark. You're vaguely aware you should probably feel fear - but all you feel is anticipation.

"How many girls do you think he's done this to before you? How many will come after?"

You swallow, biting at your lips.

"He needs to be stopped, baby. You and I both know they won't fire him. He needs to be taken out of the equation altogether."

You realise, suddenly, that the thing you're worried about isn't the morality of the situation. It's the logistics. You don't want to get caught.

"Do you think we're smart enough to get away with murder?"

"Baby," he drawls, brushing his knuckles over your cheekbone. "We're a hell of a lot smarter than people give us credit for."

You know he's right. People underestimate both you and Jake. Everyone assumes he's nothing but a pretty face and toned muscles. That you're just his pilot girlfriend, seduced by his Southern charm and the fact that he's good in bed.

It seems like a challenge, now. You want to do this. You want to see if you can get away with it. You're already on the precipice of losing everything - why not go out with a bang?

"How would we do it?" you ask, leaning in closer to the blonde man next to you.

He thinks for a moment, running his fingers up and down your bare thighs.

"I say we make it look like a suicide. Shoot him in the head and frame it so it looks self inflicted."

You nod, processing.

"I think we should hold him at gunpoint first. Get him to write a confession, some sort of letter. That way, there's no confusion as to what happened."

"You're a genius," Jake grins, dipping down to kiss you.

He slips his tongue into your mouth effortlessly, sighing when he tastes himself from earlier. You straddle his waist and tangle your fingers into his hair, desperate to be close to him.

Both of you are high on adrenaline, buzzed on the anticipation of what's to come.

Baby, I know places we won't be found and

They'll be chasing their tails trying to track us down

'Cause I, I know places we can hide

I know places

Murder isn't as hard as you thought it'd be.

Careful planning. Airtight alibis. Reassurance and recon.

You and Jake have created the perfect crime.

The two of you show up to The Admiral's office on an evening you know he'll be working late. He's doing paperwork when you arrive.

You walk in first. Jake follows, and locks the door behind him.

The Admiral goes to speak, but you silence him with a handgun pointed at his chest.

"Speak, and you die."

He doesn't say another word.

Jake takes the gun from your hand and walks around the desk, pressing it into his superiors temple.

"We need a couple of things from you," he begins. "Just a favour or two."

The Admiral is sweating, pale and rigid. He looks scared. It sends a rush of adrenaline through you. You're enjoying this. Jake is too, judging by the beaming grin on his face.

"Grab a pen, and some paper. We're about to do some creative writing."

Jake orchestrates the letter. Gets him to write exactly what you need. Notes down the brutality, the arrogance, the abuse of power. He makes him recount every incident, not just yours. You're there for what feels like hours, as his shaky hands move the pen across the paper.

Finally, he finishes. Dots the I's and crosses the T's. Jake chuckles.

"Wonderful. And for the last part of this joyous evening were having together, my girlfriend is gonna shoot you."

The Admiral chokes on his breath. Looks to you with fear in his eyes. Finally, you think. He understands how it felt.

He goes to open his mouth, but you stop him.

"Don't beg. Don't plead. It's pathetic."

"We made up our mind weeks ago," Jake adds. "You're not going to deter us now."

You smile at your boyfriend, giddy over the way he's protecting you, saving you, loving you.

"I'm going to enjoy this," you whisper.

You take the gun from Jake and press it to The Admiral's temple. You know the silencer will muffle the noise - you really have thought of everything.

You click off the safety, and lean down so your mouth is next to his ear.

"This is for all of the women you hurt."

You pull the trigger.

He dies instantly.

Lights flash and we'll run for the fences

Let them say what they want, we won't hear it

Loose lips sink ships all the damn time

Not this time

In another life, you and Jake could have been actors.

You're all called into the briefing room the next day, gathered together in confusion.

Admiral Simpson stands in front of your class - pale as a sheet, dark circles bruised under his eyes.

"There's been a situation, and we want you to hear it from us," he begins. "I ask that you all keep this to yourselves, where possible. Don't talk to any media, don't gossip, don't spread rumours. Understood?"

When you all nod, he continues.

"The Admiral is dead."

The room goes silent. Jake's hand finds yours under the table. To anyone on the outside, it looks like a boyfriend supporting his girlfriend. To you, it's something different.

It feels like time stands still. The world stops turning, suspending you in the present moment. Eventually, Rooster speaks.

"What happened?"

Beau clears his throat, swiping his hand over his face.

"He took his own life."

There are whispers now, hushed and clipped. Everyone is in a state of shock and confusion. Everyone, except for you and the blonde man next to you. He squeezes your hand tightly, refusing to let go.

"Of course, there will be an investigation. But, it seems pretty obvious to us what happened. If anyone in this room has been effected by the actions of The Admiral that have come to light... please, speak to me, or any other of your superiors. Thank you. "

He exits the room, leaving all of you in palpable silence.

"What the fuck?" Payback mutters. "What did he mean, 'actions that have come to light?'"

"There's rumours," Phoenix begins. "He had a... soft spot, for young female pilots. People have been whispering about it for months."

Suddenly, all eyes are on you. You're the only other woman in the room besides Natasha, and she clearly wasn't involved.

"Did he ever... try anything with you, Ivy?"

"No," you're quick to answer. "No. Thank God."

The room breathes a collective sigh of relief.

If only they knew.

they take their shots, but we're bulletproof I know places

and you know for me, it's always you I know places

in the dead of night, your eyes so green I know places

and I know for you, it's always me I know places

A month later, you snap.

Jake comes home to find you frantically shoving clothes into a duffel bag, sweat dripping down your back.

"Baby," he tries, cautious, like he's approaching a spooked animal. "Baby."

You turn to face him with wild eyes, fear radiating off you.

"What's wrong, angel?"

You look at him incredulously.

"What's wrong? What's fucking wrong? We killed someone, Jake! That's what's wrong!"

"He wasn't a good guy."

"That doesn't matter. That doesn't make it right."

He cradles your face in his hands, eyes never leaving yours.

"Talk to me. What's going on? You've been okay. We've been okay. I thought we were processing, moving forward."

"I was. And then today, I just... can't. It was murder, Jake. Premeditated murder."

"Listen to me," he demands, tilting your chin up so your eyes are level. "He was an awful, awful man. The world is a better place without him. We saved so many women from a horrible fate, baby. We did a good thing."

You inhale carefully, and exhale a shaky breath, leaning up to press a kiss to his bitten lips.

"Yeah?" you ask, unsure. "We did save people, didn't we?"

"We wouldn't have done it without just reason, baby. We're good people, you and I. We both know we are."

You nod, looking for any signs of insecurity in his eyes. You don't find a single speck.

"You're right. Fuck, you're right. Sorry if I scared you, Jake."

"You scared me because I thought you were leaving me," he chuckles. "Wondered what I did wrong."

"Nothing," you're quick to reassure, tangling tracing your fingertips over the features of his face in a featherlight touch. "My God, Jake. I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. You're it for me. You're my forever."

Jake leans down, pressing his lips to yours firmly and surely. It's as if he's telling you everything he feels without using any words. He pulls you into him, winding his arms around your back and tugging you closer.

"I've got you, baby. No matter what happens. It's me and you, always. I love you."

"I love you too, Seresin. Always."

They are the hunters, we are the foxes

And we run

Just grab my hand and don't ever drop it

My love

"Let's run away."

You're taking off your shoes by the door when Jake comes bounding down the stairs, buzzing with energy.

"Hmm?"

"Let's run away, baby. You and me. The open road. We can go anywhere we want."

"Jake," you laugh. "Are you drunk? What's happening?"

"Not drunk. My head's clearer than it has ever been. I've been thinking, while you were gone."

"Thinking about...?" you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning up to kiss his rosy lips.

"Getting out of here. This place is full of bad memories and old ghosts. We can start afresh somewhere new."

"Like where?"

"Anywhere. Literally anywhere. We don't even have to stay in America. We could go to Europe, Australia, Canada? The possibilities are actually endless."

"What's triggered this?" you murmur. "You okay?"

"I'm always okay when I'm with you," he smiles. "But.... I can just feel it, you know? I can feel everything piling up. There's a weight on my shoulders, and on yours too. We can let that go. I know we can."

"You're right, about the weight. I haven't relaxed in months."

Jake slides his hands under your shirt, tracing his fingers up and down the bare skin of your back.

"I know," he murmurs against your lips. "I think there's something better out there for us."

"Where would we go? Like, serious talk, what are our options?"

"I know places," he winks.

"What places, Jake?" you try to chide, but you're smiling.

"We can go to my mom's, first, in Texas. Just to touch base. From there, I mean it when I say literally anywhere, baby. Wherever you wanna go, we can go. You've always wanted to go to Italy, right? We could go there. Or I have a high school friend in Perth - we could go there."

"I wanna go somewhere with good food. Kind people. Beautiful views. A little sunshine wouldn't hurt either."

He's grinning at you, white and blinding. His excitement is contagious, settling into your bones.

"Imagine it, baby. Me and you, on the beach all day. We could surf, swim, go grab some lunch, then surf and swim some more. Go home, make dinner, sit out in the yard and listen to the ocean waves. Do it all again the next day."

You can't wipe the smile off your face, practically bouncing on the soles of your feet.

"Okay."

Jake stops in his tracks, still and rigid.

"Really?"

"Really. We can go right now, Jake. I don't wanna be here any longer."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Fuck, I love you. Let's pack our shit and go, baby."

Jake kisses you with fervour, dipping you backwards like you're in a movie. You squeal, gripping the nape of his neck for balance. He picks you up and spins you around, twirling you like a fairytale.

"What about everyone here?" you ask, forehead pressed to Jake's.

"We'll miss them, and they'll miss us, but we'll all be okay."

He's right. These people are your family, but they'll understand. You have to do what's best for you.

"Do you really wanna go as soon as we can?"

"Yeah, Jake. I meant it. We can start packing right now."

He wraps his arms around your middle and carries you upstairs, throwing the closet doors open while you grab your suitcase.

Baby, I know places we won't be found and

They'll be chasing their tails trying to track us down

'Cause I, I know places we can hide

I know places

The sun beats down on your skin, warming you up from the outside in. There's a breeze whipping through your hair, carrying salt from the ocean into the car. The sunroof is down, allowing you to breathe in the fresh air.

Jake's hand slides across the centre console and onto your thigh, thumb rubbing circles into your bare skin.

"You okay?"

He's looking over at you, taking his eyes off the road for a split second.

"I'm good, baby."

He smiles, the grin reaching every feature of his face, lighting him up.

You've been on the road for months, stopping and starting however and whenever you please. A motel here, a beach apartment there. You've lost count of how many states you've travelled through, collecting postcards in each one.

You'll settle down, eventually. You've been making a list of your favourite places you've visited, ranking them as you go. You'll most likely buy a place in your top choice. But not yet.

For now, you're content with the open road. The convertible car, all your belongings in a suitcase in the trunk, roof down at every opportunity. You like not staying in one place for too long. It weirdly suits you.

Jake's never looked happier. He glows, smile lines creasing the corner of his eyes. He laughs so often, and you never get tired of the sound.

You glance down to the golden band on your left hand, smiling softly.

"What are you thinking about?" your husband asks, squeezing your thigh.

"Vegas," you beam. "Never did I think I'd be married by an Elvis impersonator in a bright blue chapel."

"I'm the epitome of class, baby. You know this."

Both of you are grinning, chuckling gently.

"We did the right thing. Leaving."

"Yeah, we did. I'm glad I believed what you said."

"What did I say?"

"That you knew places."

He traces a love heart on your skin with his thumb, over and over again.

"Told you, baby. I know places."

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tyttamarzh · 4 months

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Missasinfonia, songs and QSMP…

Hello!! Well, since we all continue to miss Missa, I want to share a little thought.

I don't know if it has already been talked about here, but in the Hispanic fandom of Missa we have his songs very present and some people have not been able to avoid talking about how some of them adapt perfectly to the QSMP.

I want to talk about two in particular whose lyrics I think are perfect for describing Missa's relationship with his family.

The first one is called "Privilegios" (privileges) and I think it describe what Missa is currently going through with Philza. Well, it talks about the anxiety of feeling insufficient for the other and trying to improve but feeling afraid of moving forward (the young Missa from 2014 wrote very deep lyrics). I remember that in a stream he told us about how several of his songs came about and said that he wrote "Privilegios" thinking about us, the people who follow him, because he didn't feel enough for us and is why he always try to do things better. Either way, I think he's perfect for describe his situation with Phil.

The song:

youtube

Lyrics

Sometimes I forget my sorrows and things I should do Because ideas slip away, they do not allow us to see Well creating something new means forgetting I would like to be like before and go back to the past

I know how to write the word mature very well But my thoughts don't let me act I don't want to forget, I don't ask for your mercy Because honestly I can fix it.

Chorus I don't know what to do if you're not okay (you're okay!) I don't know whether to lie to me or throw myself at your feet I wonder if I can deserve you Because I didn't earn the privilege.

How can I destroy damn anxiety? If outside my mind is my reality It is not so easy to wish others ill. just so I can free myself

The second song I want to talk about is called "Tarde para el plan B" (Late for Plan B) and I think it could be a message from Missa to Chayanne, some of the things he mentions remind me of what Missa told him in that day of fishing before travel to Japan. He talks about how it's okay to fail and that he shouldn't be overwhelmed by his mistakes, and encourages him to keep going and get better. There is also a phrase that I like to think is very much theirs, since it infers that even if they are not together, he will always see him. Now every time I hear that song I think of them and I can't help it u.u (It's a song created 10 years ago, but I think it's fits perfectly).

The song:

youtube

Lyrics

Have you ever wondered… what could happen if after the years, you could come back to the past? Would you have the chance to see what is wrong the bad memories you would be able to erase.

Enjoy moments you didn't see coming feel from the beginning what you should feel but remorse can cut you and repenting would be the final act

Look for alternatives, see how to improve May you know how to handle your situations You don't always get a second chance. you must take advantage of what time gives you

If they give you their hand, don't take our foot don't ask for the moon when it's barely dawning You don't run when you want to calm down do something your soul can bear

[PRE CHORUS] And it's not that it's bad, it could be worse. What doesn't kill you makes you better.

And listen to me, here I will be, watching your actions wherever you are.

sometimes the reasons chase me but they don't want to catch me Sometimes actions are what will count, but you won't count. I prove that what I say is true It's your problem if you don't want to change but honestly sometimes everyone can fail

In the hope that everything is fine There are ideas within your being that grow and create the bad decision than wanting to correct what has already happened

Do what you need to make you feel better. Defeat your demons, destroy that pain Errors exist to know what someone else could fall into

and it's not that it's bad, it could be worse What doesn't kill you makes you better

listen to me, I will be here watching your actions wherever you are

My favorite phrase from this song is: "don't ask for the moon when it's barely dawning" (I just like how deep it sounds xD)

And that's all for now, I've never created a post here, I hope it's okay. Thanks for reading my crazy thoughts. Greetings!!

#deathduo #pissa #missasinfonia #missa #chayanne the egg #qsmp #philza #Youtube

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sassypantsjaxon · 5 months

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Fuck it. UA instructors as...things the staff from my college have done, I guess?

Because it's been three and a half years since I graduated and I miss that place every single day

Principal Nezu

Principal Nezu has everybody's names, faces, and quirks memorized before the first day of school. This is never acknowledged.

(Recovery Girl also learns everybody pretty much right away, but she interacts with them a bit more directly than Nezu, so it doesn't seem quite as weird)

Somehow Nezu manages to both be so chill and yet have no chill.

Nezu once texted Mic to ask if he was available for a call about some program at school and when Mic didn't answer within 15 minutes because he was DRIVING Nezu just called him anyway and was like "is this a bad time? I can call you back :)" Like, no,no, We're both here now, let's have this conversation now. Go ahead

One time Nezu pulled the Big Three out of their classes and brought them into his office to sit them down like he was about to have a Big Serious Conversation, and then he just says "Do you think...it would be possible for you to visit the first year hero classes...and tell them about your experiences? :)" Mirio and Nejire are both going "yeah, sure", while thinking why did we have to get pulled out of class like this was something really important? Amajiki is hyperventilating.

Power loader

Power Loader is like some kind of cryptid.

He just shows up when things need to be fixed, fixes them, and then disappears again. He never says a word. Don't question it, just be grateful and let him stay in his hiding place

Random knowledge. Whenever the rest of the staff has some random question that no one else can answer. Ask Power Loader. He knows. He always know. Don't question that either, he's just one of those kind of people

Power loader and All Might are the only two teachers who were asked to come to UA instead of having to apply

Actually 13 falls somewhere inbetween applying and being asked to join the staff, because she kind of created her own job.

She just had a meeting with Nezu one day to be like "Your students need an Unforeseen Simulation Joint! Here's what that means and why you need it" And Nezu went "... :) You're hired!"

All Might

Toughest person anybody knows. Can not handle spicy food.

Everybody loves him. Anybody who doesn't isn't cut out for hero school. This is not bragging, it just happens to be true.

All Might once listed one of his credentials as BAMF. (Izuku absolutely lost it that day)

While discussing I Island with Izuku, All Might very casually stated "My ex husband lives there" as if that isn't an Absolute Bombshell to drop You can't just Say That and NOT ELABORATE WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU HAVE AN EXHUSBAND!?!!???? (Izuku lost it even more that day)

Present Mic

Mic has a bad habit of talking a little too fast. Nobody's ever 100% sure what he said.

Also he swears. Like. A lot. Like, he would get in trouble as a student for swearing.

There is a drawer on Mic's desk that's labeled 'Present Mic's Top Secret Hiding Place' and anybody who notices it is just like ??? because it's clearly labeled and Not a Secret. But Mic is very scatter brained and will lose anything as soon as it leaves his eyesight. Having a specific place to put things help with that.

EraserMic

Married. But they don't really talk about it, and they don't act married in front of the students, so a lot of them don't realize it

It's actually surprising because they have pictures of them and their kids on their desks. All you have to do is go to the teacher's office. It's not a secret. It's right there.

There's a class for the second years on like, heroism and personal lives or something. Eraser and Mic get to teach part of that unit because they have experience being married heroes.

One year when Aizawa says that he's married to Mic one of the students asks him why

That same year, when Aizawa reveals that there is one teacher he will never be friends with (like, even more than all the other teachers), just because they have nothing in common other than working at UA, and the same student asks him if it's Mic

People assume Mic gets special treatment as Aizawa's husband. This is not true. If anything, he's more likely to get the short end of the stick and be asked to cover for Aizawa.

Eraser Head

Aizawa forgot that there was supposed to be a chaperone for the remedial licensing training and said he would probably be the one doing it. He was not. He sent Mic. Thus proving the previous statement true.

Bad at interpersonal relationships

Has a bad habit of mumbling. Students are never 100% sure what he said

At some point, the people around him start referring to doing anything overly rational as 'pulling an Aizawa'. Yeah. ...yeah...

#bnha #my hero academia #principal nezu #power loader #bnha 13 #all might #present mic #eraserhead #erasermic

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akindplace · 6 months

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I had a hard time growing up. I’ve met people who were bad for me - but were not evil. They were dysfunctional people who did terrible things that marked me in more ways than I’d like to admit. I know this pain has changed me and I’m not even sure it’s for the better. And that made me feel so hopeless about myself for years. But there is one thing that kept me going when I felt like giving up, and that was love.

Being loved changed me as a person, even more so than my trauma. Whenever I see old pictures of me, I feel love for her. Looking at a beautiful sunset knowing most people will see it and think about its magnificence, I feel love for being alive. Loving others and being loved changed me, surely, for the better. And maybe that’s good enough as a life’s purpose. It allows me to have hope.

Love makes me think that everyone can be helped when they are encouraged and validated and seen for who they are. People are capable of doing terrible things with their hatred but also capable of making positive changes when they act with compassion. Love has changed me in so many ways, and it was for the best, though it doesn’t erase the past, it gives me hope for a better future.

And if you don’t have a relationship with anyone in your family, remember that people find families in their friends. And they will love you. And you left a bad romantic relationship and are afraid of never being loved in this way again, don’t give up. Talk to your friends, their love is just as important. Someone else might come around later, and you will feel that romantic love again.

I’m not saying that someone’s love will immediately heal every hurt you ever felt, and that you should look for someone only to fix you, because that’s not a healthy way to be loved. I’m saying that love encourages you to grow, to look inward and see what needs to heal, to look at yourself with a little more kindness, to let go of the past to the best of our abilities. We change when we are loved, often because our loved ones make us feel stable, more confident, and they know how to keep encouraging us when we worry about our own capacities. They nurture the change in us.

While writing this post, the poem “Invitation” by Mary Oliver came to mind: “believe us, they say, / it is a serious thing / just to be alive / on this fresh morning / in the broken world. / I beg of you, / do not walk by / without pausing / to attend to this / rather ridiculous performance. / It could mean something. / It could mean everything. / It could be what Rilke meant, when he wrote: / You must change your life.”

#relationships #on love #on being human #on hope #self-worth #original writing

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starcrossedxwriter · 14 days

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Wicked Fantasies Part 11.1 (MBJ x OC)

A/N: Ummm so welcome backkk! This is 11.1 because there's a second part to this chapter (I know... my self control keeps getting worse lolol) But I hope you enjoy!

TW: grief

“I’m never fucking drinking again,” Raven moaned to herself as she stumbled out of the comforts of bed. She felt like hell, if hell had a truck run over its head a few dozen times.

Raven generally considered herself an early riser but nothing could pull her out of bed that morning after what was, objectively, the dumbest night of her life. Part of her wished she had had one or two more drinks so she could have officially transitioned into the ‘blackout drunk’ phase. So that she would, at least, be spared the embarrassing memories. But no, every horrible moment of the night from dancing wildly at the bar to Michael saving her was etched into the crevices of her brain with shocking clarity.

Now, it was after noon and Raven still found herself wanting to be curled under her blanket asleep so she could escape her embarrassment.

A knock at the door pulled her out of her wallowing self pity. She did not make an attempt to move, expecting Tiffany to answer. However, when the voice of their landlord rang out and her knocking persisted, she quickly slid on her robe to open the door. She decided Mrs. Winters would have to get over the fact that she looked like death reincarnated.

“Rough night, dear?”

Raven grimaced for a moment, she did indeed look as terrible as she felt.

“Something like that,” Raven offered a tight smile, her body slumping against the door. “W-what can I do for you, Mrs. Winters?”

“Oh I’m just letting everyone know that we had a pipe burst on the floor above. We’ll have folks in and out and you might hear some noise and stuff. But if you see any leaking into your unit, give me a ring?”

“Of course. Will do. Thanks, have a good one,” Raven tried her best to politely shoo the woman away. However, she lingered.

“Oh I meant to tell you, that boyfriend of yours is just such a good egg. So kind and polite. Admittedly I haven’t met many famous people,” she laughed. “But you just don’t expect them to have such good manners, you know?”

Raven stopped. “My boyfriend?? Sorry… When was he here?”

“He stopped by this morning. Gave me a check for your rent for the rest of your lease. Oh and asked where your mailbox was, said he wanted to drop something in it.”

Raven was worried her jaw might come completely unhinged as the woman spoke.

He did what??

“Are you alright, dear??”

“Y-Yea, yea. Just… a bit of a surprise. Thank you.”

And with that, Raven immediately closed the door, not listening to the elderly woman’s reply.

“This nigga… I hate him,” she muttered to herself as she slumped against her door.

Every cell in her body knew that was not true. But she also knew that everything she had told him last night was still accurate. She was too tired to forgive him and not just him… anyone ever again. The world has used up all of her second chances and she did not have it in her heart to be disappointed by him again. The narrative in her brain was so set in stone, she did not think anything he could say or do would make her believe anything else. She could not even make herself go retrieve the note that was apparently waiting for her in her mailbox.

“Such a coward,” she grumbled as she flopped back into bed.

She stared at her phone for several minutes, her text thread with Michael open. She wondered what she could even say? Thank you?

She knew any conversations demanding she pay him back or he rescind the money would be moot. Even if she had the mental fortitude to argue with him right now, she would still lose. But she could not just accept it without trying to push back.

She typed and erased and typed and erased before lamely landing on:

Raven: You can’t pay my entire rent. I can’t accept that.

Raven: I don’t want that.

Michael: Yea you can. Told you… gonna show up every day tryin’ to fix us. You just gotta let me.

Raven: Money isn’t gonna fix this, Michael.

Michael: I know. But it can fix the tangible things I fucked up for you

Michael: So let me fix that for you.

Raven paused, as a warm sensation filled her, a warmth she had not felt in over a month now. The warmth of being cared for. She had never had someone take care of her without wanting something in return, except Michael. Even when their relationship was built on transactions, he still took care of her without needing or asking for something from her. The book deal, her rent were just the tangible examples of how he had stepped up to right the wrongs he could and she could not deny that those actions meant something, softened something inside her.

He was doing exactly what he promised he would do the night before. He was fixing what could be, he was showing with his actions that she meant something to him. And yet, that blockade that stopped that belief from taking root was still there, still prohibiting her from believing these actions were anything more than a skilled manipulation.

He would draw her back in, he would not change, and when he got ready, he would hurt her again. That’s what everyone in her life did.

Raven: It doesn’t change anything

Michael: I know… didn’t expect it to.

She tossed her phone to the side and grabbed her pillow, screaming into it as her frustration got the better of her. The complex web of conflicting feelings with Michael B. Jordan trapped at its center only continued to grow. She wanted him to let her go, to stop caring and trying and going out of his way for her because that fit into the narrative nailed to the cross of her brain, it would confirm her beliefs and fears.

But instead he continued to do the things that made her fall in love with him the first time, things that only reignited the dimmed but still existent flame that was her love for him. And she knew she would never get over him if she kept letting that happen, kept letting him in.

So she did not even respond. Instead, she just closed the thread and tossed her phone to the side.

“Let him go, Rae,” she demanded to herself. “You don’t deserve him and he doesn’t love you.” She repeated that a few times before it felt real again, before all that had started to soften was once again as solid as a block of ice.

***

“You look like shit,” Alex moaned as she watched Michael’s makeup artist, Shanta, struggle to make him look less like a living zombie ahead of his Oprah interview.

They were tucked away in a suite in Oprah's sprawling LA estate. It was difficult to make Michael feel poor but Oprah was certainly one of the few people in the world who could do so.

“Thanks, appreciate that.”

“You know I don’t believe in lying to you. Make sure you get those bags under his eyes,” she instructed. “Alright, this is it. Final stretch. Movie’s out and every review is stellar so far. Do this interview, it’ll air this week, Oscars on Sunday and then you can sleep. Though I bet it’s not the schedule keeping you up? Talked to her since the premiere?”

Michael forced his body not to sag at the mention of Raven as to not disturb the hard work of the woman trying to make him look alive after days of no sleep.

“She texted me about the rent thing the next morning. But it’s been radio silence ever since.”

It had only been a few days since the fiasco after the premiere but Michael’s concern for Raven had not diminished one bit. He could not let her go as she requested but he tried his hardest to respect her desire for space. His heart was stuck in the quicksand that was Raven and he had no desire to pull himself out. He wanted to be right there. He knew eventually he would have to accept defeat, accept that she had moved on. But he could not do it while she still questioned her own deservedness. She could hate him for the rest of his life, it would be her right. But his soul could not allow her to live thinking so lowly of herself. So if he had to pay 30 years of rent or call in favors to make her life easier and make her see that she deserved care and someone to sacrifice for her, he would do it. It was high time someone in her life put her above themselves.

“Well, at least she talked to you. That’s something. You’re doing what she asked. Sis has lived a life, she needs time and space. Keep doing what you're doing. Except for the no sleep. For the love of God, by the Oscars, please get a good night’s rest. That’s your night.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Alex…”

She scoffed. “You’ve won the big four, Mike. It’s not just because I believe you deserve it… Statistically, Best Actor is yours. The Oscars is your night. Have a little faith in yourself.”

“I hear you. I just don’t wann-”

“Excuse me?” A young man poked his head in the door. “Apologies for interrupting. I’m a PA. Just wanted to let you know that we’re almost ready? I can take you out to the garden when you’re ready.”

“Be right out. Thank you,” Alex called.

Shanta did her last quick finishing touches before Alex gave him her customary once over.

“Shanta, my girl, you’re a miracle worker per usual.”

They both offered Shanta their thanks, Michael rolling his shoulders before heading out the door to walk out to the gardens.

He had met and interviewed with Oprah once before so he was not particularly nervous. But despite having done millions of interviews, there was always a kernel of nerves right beforehand that he could just never shake.

He was dressed in slacks and a light black sweater, thankful for a cooler day as he walked out into her expansive gardens where the Oprah Winfrey waited for him. The cameras were already rolling, capturing footage that may or may not make into the hour-long special.

“The man of the hour!” she called, her arms stretched wide to wrap Michael in a hug. “Actually I think man of the year is more appropriate. Welcome. I can’t tell you how excited I am to have you here.”

“Thank you, thank you. It’s so good to be here.”

“Have a seat,” she gestured at the very comfy chair across from hers. “And we can jump right in.”

***

Raven’s head was propped against her fist as she stared at her computer. A sentence. That was the grand total of her hard work for that Wednesday afternoon. But it was something, she supposed. Weeks of hard work had amounted to maybe two or three pages of her book. She had been offering Angelina vague answers on her progress, ducking and dodging her to avoid admitting that there was no way in hell she could have a draft by March 15 like they talked about.

“Rae? You busy?”

She turned in her chair toward the door to find Tiffany’s head poking in.

“Nope… I’ll never be busy again at this rate,” she grumbled. “What’s up?”

“I just turned on the interview… if you want to watch?”

Raven scratched her head, unsure if she could even watch him? See him happy and thriving without her? Despite everything happening between them though, she could not pretend there was not a part of her that still wanted to celebrate this moment in his career. Interviewing with Oprah the week he was poised to win his first Oscar? How could she ever forgive herself if she did not watch this? Even if it hurts?

“I’ll… be there in a sec. Thanks, Tiff.”

Raven let out a deep sigh before she grabbed the blanket off her bed and dragged herself to the living room. The interview had already started and he looked gorgeous. Tired, she could tell, in the way he constantly had to readjust his posture, in the bags under his eyes that the makeup artist could not quite fully cover. But even at his worst, he looked captivatingly good.

Raven found herself studying him so intently that she did not even comprehend the words he and Oprah were sharing. She just watched him and his mannerisms, she focused on the glimmer in his eyes that sparked every so often. She missed looking into his eyes, missed how expressive they were.

This moment only amplified how much she missed him, missed hearing the deep baritone in his voice and the spark in his eyes when he spoke about his passions. She missed his bright and uninhibited laughter, how his hands were always on her in some way. She just missed him. But she had pushed him away, had told him to let her go. And even if he had not fully let go of her yet, she felt too scared to open that door again, even if her soul ached for her to. Particularly when he continued to try to show up for her in small ways.

And despite how angry she still wanted to be at him, she had never had anyone show up for her quite like this… try for her like he did. And everyday, her brain took up far more mental space than it should have, debating whether she should follow her foolish heart and forgive him or listen to her logical brain and cast him aside. Days passed and she still did not know the answer.

“So I’ll admit,” Raven’s ears finally started to pick up the conversation between Oprah and Michael, “I watched Waves more times than appropriate. But Gayle and I saw it at Sundance and we both thought it was just the most heartbreaking and poignant look at loss and grief that we had ever seen. While still being engaging and funny and so relatable. The journey your character goes through is just… I mean I think grief is one of the few universal experiences that we all will have at some point. And you really brought that to life through this character and his struggles with addiction. And the fact that you filmed this while engaged in completely different projects with complex characters like Killmonger in Black Panther and Adonis in Creed 3… I’m curious what you pulled from to give that performance?”

Michael shifted in his seat as he chuckled, Raven had missed how passionate he got about this project, even though he had been talking about it and doing press for it since they first started dating. She knew he had not truly expected the role to blow up in the ways it did but she could tell he was grateful for it, nonetheless.

“Well first, thank you. Yea aside from Oscar Grant, Andre was the hardest character I’ve ever played and he stretched me as an actor in ways, you know, I didn’t really expect? And I learned so much from him in his sort of journey through grief. You know, when I read the first script, the line ‘grief is the final stage in love’s evolution,’ really stuck out to me. When you lose someone, grief, this enduring pain you feel, is that love shifting and changing because it has nowhere to go, there’s no outlet for it anymore. And so, Andre really reframed my own thoughts on grief and loss and how I process that and allowed me to pull from personal experiences with loss to pour into that character.”

“Yea I will say, that line was one of my favorites. I sat with that long after the credits rolled.”

“Yea same. I remember sitting a-and thinking about that one for a while after reading it. And I loved that even in the more comedic moments of this movie, we still had those lines that made you wanna stop and really sit with what the characters were going through.”

“Definitely, I was dissecting this movie for weeks after. It’s just amazing. So I do want to shift gears to talk about this moment you're experiencing because of this movie. This really is the biggest moment of your career. You’re nominated for your first Oscar and a favorite to win, so far in 2023, you’ve won a SAG Award, Golden Globe, and BAFTA. And you, as of two days ago, just had your directorial debut in Creed 3. First question, how are you still awake?” Both of them shared a laugh. “But serious question, how has this moment felt? How does it feel to be having this moment at this stage of your career?”

“Oh wow, when you list it like that, I don’t know how I’m awake either,” he chuckled. “But seriously, you know… it’s been a ride. I know you’ve felt this too but you know, you don’t often take a moment to just pause and soak it in. You finish one interview or award show and your mind automatically just jumps to the next one. And I think what I’ve been trying to force myself to do in the later weeks of this insane time is just to slow down and enjoy it. Not rush through it and really enjoy the fruits of… really years of hard work and sacrifice. But that also means sitting with… you know, the challenges of this time too, which isn’t as rewarding,” he admitted with a sad smile. “But I’m growing and learning alot so it’s worth it.”

Oprah nodded. “You know I always appreciate when people don’t let the 24 hour news cycle and gossip sort of steal their thunder and moment from them. And I applaud you for sort of moving through the more gossipy side of the last few months with grace and maturity. But you haven’t really talked much publicly about those stories and the effect they have had on you. And you don’t have to get into it if you don’t want but I am curious on how you navigated that and really came out on the other side, from what I can see, stronger for it?”

Michael bowed his head and chuckled. “Um… you know a good friend of mine told me that she thought this was the most vulnerable and most genuine I had ever been publicly on this press tour and I think it’s because I’ve had to navigate some really personal stuff during this great but hectic public moment? And that’s new territory for me.”

“And I think that friend is right. I don’t think we have seen or learned this much about you ever.”

“Yea and I wish I could take some credit for it but… it was all one person: Raven Turner. And the way we met, now as the world knows, was extremely unconventional and I can admit that our relationship started as a complete lie. A lie I thought would help me be seen as this serious, mature man my team was worried I wasn’t. And I wasn’t,” he admitted. “I was cold and guarded and not at all the best version of myself. And while I regret how we started and trying to fool the world into thinking I’m something I’m not, there isn’t a bone in my body that regrets falling in love with her.”

He leaned forward a bit as he spoke. “Because all those walls and barriers we build around ourselves to survive in this world of Hollywood? To endure the criticisms and insanity we deal with? She's the first woman to see me. Not the actor and the money and the fame but just me. And in that, she saved me… without trying or intending to. She just loved me and loving her, choosing her is the single greatest decision I ever made. And I hate how this moment has fallen on her, how my terrible decisions led to these pretty disgusting misogynistic attacks on her. And I think my biggest regret is putting someone as pure as her in the line of fire like that and not doing enough to protect her. And you know, I have to live with that, which is tough.”

“You know I’ve interviewed thousands of people in my career and while I believe you have to change for yourself and on your own, I also have found that the ones who love us, really love us, are often the most powerful catalysts for change in our lives. I’ve certainly seen and experienced that in my own life and it’s important to spotlight those who were that catalyst.”

“Oh 100%. Especially when, I think this version of me was always there? I was just too hurt to trust anyone with it, so no one saw it. I buried me under this facade I thought was better? But I fell in love with a woman who taught me that you can’t be guarded, you can’t shut down just because you’re hurt. Life is about getting up every day, being authentically you, and reaching out and loving and risking your heart every time. And sometimes you’ll get swatted away and sometimes you’ll get an embrace. But you just deny yourself love when you don’t show up at all. So I’ve been trying to live by that more lately. Because she showed me what real strength and courage looks like. And I want to have that, I want to lead with that.”

“Wow… you know people are going to watch this and I think, applaud that vulnerability. It’s refreshing to me because I don’t think our world incentivizes or encourages people to admit when they aren’t being their best selves. So I think for you to do that, at a moment when you’re at the top of your game, is commendable.”

“She deserves to know the positive effect she’s had on my life. To be celebrated for how she supported me. And you know it’s not just me? When we first started dating, I remember her one stipulation was that we couldn’t go out on Wednesday evenings because she hosted a book club for kids at the library she worked at. And that was the most important thing to her, being there for them. The day of our first date, she spent an hour delivering books and SAT prep books to those same kids she worked just because. There’s just a selflessness to her that is truly admirable. And I think while people are attacking her and calling her these vile names because she made a certain choice during a hard time, they should know who she really is. A woman that would drop everything to help you even when you don’t really deserve it. A woman who I’ve seen give others all she had because they needed it more even when she did not have a backup plan for herself. I could honestly talk about her for the rest of this interview because she deserves celebration far more than I ever could. Genuinely good people don’t always get the shine they deserve, they don’t always get the love and care they deserve because we can often take them for granted. But no one deserves to be celebrated more than her, to be celebrated loudly more than she does.”

“I love that… she seems like quite the woman.”

“She is… and I hope she knows that.”

“So tell me about…”

The words faded away as his words tumbled through Raven’s head. They clashed jarringly against every belief she had internalized about herself, like metal against metal. But she found herself wanting to believe him. Believe the words a section of the world just heard. She wanted to believe that what he saw in her, even over the course of six months, was who she truly was. Not this broken, damaged scapegoat life had fashioned her into.

There has to be more than this, right?

Tiffany nudged her with a box of tissues in her hand. Raven had not even realized she was crying but she accepted them gratefully.

“Don’t know how I still have tears over this man left,” she whispered as she wiped her eyes.

“I don’t think those tears are because of him, sis.”

Raven sniffled and grabbed another tissue. “You m-might be onto something. I can’t watch anymore. Night, Tiffany.”

However, before she reached her bedroom, she heard Tiffany call her name.

“I know what he did… sucks. And hurts. But that’s a man who loves you, Rae. More than anything. After that? The only person in the world who still won’t believe it is you.”

She turned around to face her, the back of her hand wiping away a few more stray tears. “You know he said the same thing?”

“Well, I generally don’t think actors are that smart,” Tiffany admitted with a laugh. “But he’s right about that. You deserve to believe good things about yourself, we all do.”

“Nothing good has ever lasted… I always ruin it somehow. I tried to believe I deserved him and life proved that I didn’t,” she answered, her voice small. “D-Don’t have it in me to try again.”

“Raven… I know we aren’t best friends or anything. But how many times have I watched you forgiven your dad and sister? Let them back in, try to make things right with them? Try to build the family you want?”

“Too many…”

“Right… So why does Michael only get one shot when you found the strength to give them 100? When he’s the one actually showing up for you? He’s the one who actually is trying to earn another chance?”

“It’s not that simple and you know it.”

“I know that the only person denying you happiness right now… is you. You push away the good people and things in your life because you feel like you don’t deserve it but no one would be here if you didn’t. Michael, the kids in your book club… me. I don’t keep signing leases with you because you’re a terrible person who ruins everything, no one has a gun to our heads, Rae. We’re here because you do deserve it.”

“Tiff…”

“Nope, shut up. This pity party is getting old and tired. It doesn’t matter what I think of you… or what Michael thinks or anyone out there.” She gestured toward the window. “All that matters is the narrative you’ve created and until you decide to believe something else, all you’re going to do is push people away and fuck up and self sabotage because it’s all you think you deserve. You gotta wake up and do some fucking work, girl. Cause until you figure out how to erase this narrative from your brain, you’ll never be happy. And you’ll never fall in love with anyone except for someone who treats you like crap. You’ll never build your own family. You’ll never finish your book or have another fulfilling career. You’ll just be stuck in this broken version of yourself alone… forever. And I’ve seen a few different versions of you over the last two years but this is by far the most pitiful.”

Raven had never heard Tiffany be so blunt. The words were biting but she could not deny that some of them rang true in her ears. And that was always the hardest information to hear.

“Damn… tell me how you really feel.”

“The soft gentle love wasn’t resonating clearly so had to go with a different tactic…. Just think about it. And once you fix all this shit and move to a mansion in the hills, don’t forget about me.” She winked at her, causing Raven’s jaw to drop slightly.

“How do you even know that’s gonna happen?”

She shrugged and grabbed the remote to press play, Raven not even noticing that she paused it.

“Just got a good feeling about the two of you. Now go so I can lust after him in peace while he's still single. Kidding! Kinda..."

Raven let out a small laugh as she shook her head. "I know you're not kidding. Night, Tiff.”

She slid into her bed, her only refuge of late, and stared at the ceiling. She was surprised she was not tired of looking at it by now. Michael and Tiffany’s words wrestled with her own thoughts for hours

What was her problem, really? It was not that what Michael did was unforgivable because it wasn’t. Some distant part of her, too quiet to break through the noise of her anger, always wondered if there was more to the story, believed that he had to have had some reason. But she was too angry to allow him to explain. It just became vicious ammunition that no one could ever love her or care about her… that she was the problem.

Well, that’s true… no one’s ever loved you. And everyone who does leaves.

She supposed her mother must have loved her, but she would never know. She would never feel it. And her grandmother’s love was so distant, so long ago, that it no longer felt tangible, was no longer a tether to anchor her self worth to something positive.

Instead, the only thing that tethered her sense of self worth to anything was her family’s disdain. Disdain that made her question what Michael could’ve seen in her, how he could ever love someone like her? That disdain which made it far easier to believe that what he did was proof that he did not love her than that he possibly did do it to protect her in some weird way. No other thought could live long enough in her brain to take hold.

And she did not know if doing what Tiffany suggested would fix that. There was not enough time in the world for her muster the courage to interrogate and confront the source of these feelings. She had hoped she would never have to see her family again. Some days, never felt like too soon.

But she knew she could not avoid it. They were the root cause, the narrative in her head was fueled and sustained by them. And screaming at them across the Thanksgiving table and never speaking to them again was not the closure she needed. She thought she had dropped the weight that was her family when she cut them off. But she was still dragging all the luggage they gave her around and it was time to give it back.

She knew her family did not want to see her either, knew it would be difficult to get them to even speak to her after everything. But she knew she had to try… because she knew there had to be more to life than this. That she had not been born to only suffer through life instead of live it. So she needed to confront her demons for herself, even if her relationship with them did not change one bit.

She grabbed her computer and her wallet. It was time to go home.

***

Raven’s eyes remained trained on her dad’s house across the street as she sat in her rental car. She was almost shocked that none of her family’s nosy neighbors had not called the police yet as she sat there for nearly an hour, summoning the courage to actually go inside.

She had felt so sure this was what she needed when she bought her plane ticket. And that confidence did not waver when she stepped onto the plane or during the long journey from LAX to Charlotte, NC. However, once she was in her rental car, she found herself waffling, aimlessly driving around for hours. Her brain seemed unable to direct her to the place she knew she needed to go. Home.

She just could not make herself do it… not yet anyway. So she did not. Instead, she finally went to her hotel to try to get some rest and her night’s rest turned into the entire Friday holed up in her hotel. She had not booked a return ticket, prayerful and hopeful that there would be a reason to stick around for a few days. But that also meant she did not have the incentive of time to make her move faster.

But she could not even make herself do this. Because she did not know how to be brave like this. Her life had been nothing but running from pain and confrontation. This was so contrary to that. She did not know how to do any of this. She tossed and turned all night, unable to get any sleep particularly when there was only one person who she wanted to talk to, wanted to seek courage and strength from. Because when she felt scared, when she did not feel strong, he was the only person she wanted to reach for. But she was not sure he would even answer. She had pushed him away, told him she needed space.

But she had not felt like she could do this alone. So last night, she called him.

“Rae! Everything ok?” he asked immediately, his question met with silence.

Raven did not know what to say and regret filled her like ice water in her veins. But she knew it was too late to hang up, she had to see it through. She paid for that moment of weakness when she hit the call button as her throat closed at the sound of her voice. She found it impossible to speak, even if she knew what words to say.

“I’ll wait until you’re ready, Rae. Got all night for you.”

And she knew he was not just talking about waiting for her to speak.

“Why?” she whispered, the simple word coming out in a strangled sound as she tried to push past the tightness in her throat.

“Why what?”

“Why even answer after everything I said to you? W-why do you keep trying?”

“Because I love you,” he answered simply. “And you’re worth it. I’ll keep reaching out, baby girl. Even when you swat me away.”

“You might be the only person who thinks that,” she whispered back as a tear fell.

“I don’t think that’s true. But even if it was, knowing one person is in your corner is all you need sometimes.”

She laughed lightly. “That press tour got you only speaking in motivational boxing terms or something?”

His deep laughter filled her ears and filled her soul with such joy that she had forgotten. She had forgotten what these moments felt like, the two of them on the phone or curled up together in bed, just talking. She missed it… she missed him. But she could not say it, could not bring herself to pull her body out of the water to make that long trek back up the cliff to where he waited for her. Everything in her brain screamed at her that she couldn’t do it, that she did not have it in her. And she hated herself for it. Hated how she clung to the ice barriers around her heart, even though they were utterly fractured and ready to fall. She just was not ready yet.

She let out a shuddering breath as she hastily wiped away her falling tears. “I… don’t know why I called. I s-shouldn’t have called.”

“Call me anytime, Rae. I’ll always answer. I’ll always show up for you. I hope you know that… at least.”

“Y-Yea… I think I do… or at least, it’s getting harder to deny it,” she revealed. “Your interview with Oprah… it was really good,” she offered lamely.

“You watched??” she could hear the surprise in his voice.

“Yea… I almost didn’t,” she admitted. “But I caught most of it. Did you mean it? Everything you said?”

“Every single word.” There was no arguing with the definitive tone in his voice. “I get that you don’t trust me anymore. I lied and kept secrets. But one thing I never lied about is how much I love you.”

Her eyes clenched shut for a moment. That was one thing he had always been consistent about, her ears had just been perpetually shut to it.

“I… um… I gotta go. Early day tomorrow,” she lied as she sniffled. “I’m sorry for bothering you. Bye, Michael.”

She was not sure what she had expected to get from that call and, at first, it felt as if she only got a firm kick in the heart for it. But for the first time since she landed, Raven had enough strength to finally drive to her family’s house. She had rolled her eyes at his boxing motivational quotes but hearing someone say they were in her corner, that had given her courage. To just feel like someone was behind her, even if she was alone, that meant something to her.

She took a deep breath and got out of her car, forcing her legs to carry her to the front door.

Her rounds of knocks went unanswered, Raven getting slightly frustrated but determined not to leave the porch. If she turned around and walked away, she’d never come back.

After an extremely brief internal debate, she decided to simply let herself in, deciding that since she contributed to the mortgage, she had a right to come in as she pleased. And her father still, foolishly, kept a spare key underneath the welcome mat.

Though she had not been to her family’s home in two years or so, it still looked the same. Her father’s favorite work boots were thrown haphazardly at the door, several pairs of her sister’s shoes lined up next to them. She was an utter mess but she was, at least, somewhat neat. And it still felt… cold. And it had nothing to do with the cold winter east coast weather. The house had always felt like that, void of warmth and love that made a home a home.

“Kiara?” she called out. “Dad?” However, she was met with utter silence.

Part of her supposed she was thankful they were not home and that they had not just ignored her or something. She stood in the living room, staring around the room at the pictures that lined the walls and shelves. So many of her mom, her dad, and Kiara but there were none of her. That was not a surprise, it had always been that way. But that did not make it sting any less. All they had ever wanted was to erase her from their lives and if a stranger walked into this house, it would be as if she never existed.

She started up the stairs, her eyes refusing to linger long on any of the photos there. They were all lies anyway, a picture perfect family that did not exist because she had been born. She decided to ascend to the attic once she made it upstairs. Because that was where all her grandmother’s and some of her own things now lived. She had never really gone through her grandmother’s things after she passed, no one aside from her dad to pack them up. But she knew there was so much of their lives, so many memories she had forgotten of the one person who loved her, forgotten in those boxes that she now desperately needed to remember.

She ignored how narrow the opening to the attic was, realizing that it had been easier to maneuver up here when she was a young teenager. Everything was still neatly packed away as if her grandmother would be back one day to pick it up.

She started to open each box, pulling out and examining her grandmother’s things, so many beautiful things forgotten in this attic no one went into. For the first time in nearly two decades, she felt close to the only maternal figure she had ever had, felt like her grandmother’s hand was on her shoulder as she reminisced on their short but well-lived time together.

She found the old costume jewelry her grandmother used to let her play with, laughing to herself as she thought back to dressing up in front of her vanity mirror pretending to be a model or whatever silly idea the pair had thought up. She almost cried as she found a very crumpled piece of paper with the last story she gave her grandmother to read before she died, a random short story that she had written for class. She had not realized, as she found a folder, just how many of her stories her grandmother had kept.

A gold glint caught her attention, Raven reaching into a giant box to find a shoe box. Raven had seen that box 100 times but her grandmother had never let her touch it, claiming that it held priceless family heirlooms that she did not want Raven or Kiara to mess up. Raven rolled her eyes that something her grandmother had valued so much had been discarded and forgotten haphazardly at the bottom of this box.

Finally giving into her childhood curiosity, she opened it. It was still filled with things, part of her thankful that Kiara had never found it. The jewelry and pieces in it were gorgeous and indeed priceless. She took her time as she examined each one, wondering if they had belonged to her mother or her grandmother or some other relative she never met. However, it was what existed underneath the jewelry that caught her eye: piles of tied up envelopes, one with her name on it and one with Kiara’s.

The handwriting was not her grandmother’s, which made Raven even more curious.

She pulled out the stack with her name on it and undid the thin ribbon that tied them together. There were ten letters there in total, each one with a different note scribbled on the envelope.

To Raven on your 18th birthday

To Raven on high school graduation

To Raven after your first love

To Raven after your first heartbreak

To Raven on college graduation

To Raven on your wedding day

She only had to flip through a few of them to realize who they were from. Her mom.

“You’re killing me,” she muttered to the sky, unsure if she was speaking to God, her grandmother, her mother or all three.

Her hands trembled slightly as she ripped open the one on top, addressed to her on her 18th birthday. These were some of the only words her mother would get to say to her, she did not care how long ago she should have read it. She would savor each one.

To my sweet darling girl,

If you are reading this, it means that I am not physically there with you on your birthday. It means that I’ve missed 18 birthdays and too many milestones to write a letter for and for that, I am sorry. You might be wondering why there is not a letter for all those milestones and birthdays that have taken place but this felt like the best place to start and the appropriate age for reading the musings of a dying woman. If there’s even such a thing.

We learned your gender today. Another sweet girl. If the doctor somehow got it wrong, these letters will be incredibly awkward. But I know they are right. Because you, my darling girl, are the manifestation of my wildest dreams. I dreamed of you almost a year ago, this beautiful girl with half my face but all of my spirit and personality. And every night since then, I prayed, begged God to make that dream a reality… no matter the cost. And he did.

I know my body is not strong enough to be your mother, to be around to be the mother someone as brilliant as you will deserve. But I hope you know that deciding to have you and keep you, regardless of the risks, is the single greatest decision I ever made. You were not an accident or a misfortune given to me. You are my dreams. And if my last moments on this earth are spent looking at you, it will have been worth it.

I waited until 18 to start these letters because I worried a child could never understand the choice I made. And you may still not. And if you resent me for leaving you before you could know me, I understand that too. But I hope that through these letters, you will get to know me. And you will feel some semblance of the immense love I have for you.

I don’t have much advice because you’ve likely heard it all at this point. But the two most important things I can tell you, that I wish someone had told 18 year old me, is to know that failure is part of the journey. Your grandmother used to always tell me to keep reaching out your hand even if it doesn’t work. I didn’t really understand it soon enough but I hope you do. Life is about risks and if you don’t reach out your hand out of fear, you’ll protect yourself from pain but you will also miss out on the gifts God is trying to hand you. As a daughter, I hated to admit it, but mama was right about that… and so many other things.

And finally, more importantly than anything else I could offer you in these letters, please remember every day that you are so, so loved.

Know that regardless of what happened to me, I loved you with every fiber of my being until my last breath. Know that you were a gift from God. And every day you venture out into this world, know that you are worthy of so much because you were so loved from the moment you were dreamed up. Do not let anyone or whatever will happen to you in what I pray is a long, rich, happy life diminish that light, diminish your worth. I know how special you are and I don’t even know your name yet. And while I hope that your father and grandmother will affirm you daily, you don’t need other people to tell you that you are special. You have to know it for yourself. That’s the most important advice I can give you. Know who you are and your worth and take up as much space in this world as you want. And as long as you never forget how special you are… how deserving you are, you’ll move through this world shining bright. And the world will be forced to know it too and move to give you what you deserve. It’s not much and a bit cliche perhaps but I’ve been torn down enough to know that sometimes we all need the reminder. But those are stories for another letter.

By the time I write my next letter, I promise I will have picked out a name for you. I read a book the other day where the main character was named Raven… I had not thought of it before but I like it.

Happy Birthday.

Love,

Mom

The river of tears streaming down Raven’s face splashed against the slanted handwriting on the page, Raven quickly whisking them away so the words would remain legible. Raven did not even know how long she sat there staring at the words on the page, her heart bursting with the knowledge that her mother’s hand had touched this very paper, that she had poured her heart and soul into every word etched into it.

It was like proof she had been real and not this entity Raven had conjured up in her head. Raven could not stop herself from ripping open all the ones that she should have gotten along the way. The one for her first love and the separate one on heartbreak were four pages each, and Raven did not pay attention to the clock as she absorbed each and every word.

Everything she had learned about her mother had been through her grandmother and she had always wondered if her grandmother told her things just to make her feel better. But she realized that her grandmother had been telling the truth, she and her mother were so much alike. She found herself nodding and laughing along to her mother’s stories and wisdom embedded in all those pages. She was a prolific storyteller too and an amazing writer, another trait Raven realized she must have inherited from her.

For the first time in 30 years, Raven did not feel weighed down by this unbearable guilt. She felt lighter than she had ever been in her entire life. Perhaps this was what God wanted her to find here, not a confrontation with her family, but these words. This tangible proof that her mother had chosen her, wanted her… loved her and that she had not ruined anything at all.

Her mother would not have wanted her to carry such guilt around for so long because there was nothing to be guilty about.

The letters were scattered across the attic floor when she heard the faint sound of their garage opening. She quickly folded up all of her letters and stuffed them back into the box, tucking it under her arm as she climbed out of the attic. She did not make much noise as she closed up the attic, just as she heard her father and sister close the garage door and enter the kitchen.

Their voices drifted up to her ears as she started to climb down the stairs, deciding that she might as well get the pure unpleasantness of this moment over with.

“Wait… you hear that? Is someone in the house??” she heard her sister ask, knowing that they both could hear her footsteps against the old floorboards.

“Don’t get your gun,” she called out as she started down the stairs. “It’s just me.”

She was greeted with less-than-welcoming expressions from her family, such disdain that it made her want to scurry away. But she did not. She had done enough of that in her life.

“Adding breaking and entering to your criminal activity, now?”

Raven scoffed as she placed the box on the kitchen counter that stood between her and her family.

“Don’t think you can break into a house you helped pay for?” she answered coolly. “And I’m not the one with a mug shot here if I remember correctly.”

“No you’re just the one who sold her cheap ass for a quick buck.”

Raven shook her head, opening and closing her mouth for a few moments as she tried to find the words.

“Yea I did… And I’m not proud of it,” Raven admitted. “But I won’t let you or anyone shame me for doing what I needed to do to survive. What helped the two of you survive too.” Raven scratched her head, realizing that trying to get closure from her family was unnecessary. Her mother’s words had given her all the closure she had ever needed. That’s what she had come home for.

“You know, I got a plane ready to rip you both a new one for 30 years of abuse and torture. To try to force you to admit that I’m not the villain you made me to be. But… I don’t need that anymore. Because the cross of guilt and shame you two forced onto my back for all these years isn’t one I should have to carry. But I did because I thought it was the only way to keep you two around. And even without you two in my life, I still drag that cross around because I thought I deserved it. But I realized today, way too late, that I don’t need a damn thing from either of you to put it down.”

“So you came here to what? To chastise us and steal?” her father asked, gesturing toward the box on the counter.

“You can’t steal things that belong to you. These are letters mom wrote to me,” she lifted the open letters out before sliding the unopened pile to her sister. “And to you.”

“Your mother wrote these?” he asked, his jaw tensing as he looked down at the stack.

“Yeah, she did. You’ll enjoy yours… she was a really good storyteller,” she glanced at Kiara. “These letters just told me something I should’ve realized long before Thanksgiving. That cross? That guilt? It isn’t mine. And I am done wasting my life trying to rectify the mistake of being born. Because it wasn’t a mistake. She chose me… prayed for a second daughter knowing the cost and she decided it was worth it. And hearing her say that? That’s all I need to know that I deserve so much more than this… so much more than you.” She took a deep breath. “Being a grieving husband isn’t an excuse to be a terrible father and I’ll just be grateful I found some way to survive you and this. And jealousy doesn’t give you the right to be a shitty sister.”

“What the fuck do I have to be jealous of??”

“I always wondered that. But reading those letters… I finally got it. Because even as a failed author and prostitute, I’m everything she was. Grandma used to always say I had her personality… her talent. I always thought she was lying to make me feel better. But you knew she wasn’t and you could never stand it. Couldn’t stand that I was more like her than you.” For the first time, her sister was speechless. A good look on her in Raven’s opinion. “Mom wanted so much better for me than this and I’m gonna go and find it. Because I’ve wasted too much energy trying to earn the love of people who don’t deserve it. So if you want to go to your graves hating me, making me the scapegoat for every problem in your miserable lives, have at it. But know that I don’t hate you even after all this. I won’t be weighed down anymore by any feelings toward either of you ever again. You aren’t worth it.”

Raven pulled herself to full height and rolled her shoulder back as she scooped up the box and folder she had taken from her grandmother’s stuff.

“Now I’m gonna go and have that long… rich and happy life mom wanted for me. And I hope you two do the same.”

She did not look behind her as she walked away, a soft smile on her face as she walked out of her family’s house for the last time.

She let out a long laugh as she sat in her car, so much of the weight she had been carrying around gone. It did not feel sad like when she cut off her family at Thanksgiving. She finally felt as if she had cut the anchor away and she could float away, she could move forward and heal all the broken pieces of herself that they had gleefully chipped away at.

When she got back to her hotel room, she just kept rereading her mom’s words. She would memorize each letter at this point. A part of her desperately wanted to open the other ones but she had not reached those milestones just yet so she left them where they were. For some reason, she worried her mother would disapprove of her breaking into them early.

One line of five letters she read and reread stuck to her bones above all else. And of course, as if her mother had known, it was embedded in the letter for her first love. Love… the thing that had cracked her wide open and brought her to this moment in the first place.

You’d be surprised to know that this was the hardest of the letters to write. Because everyone has some prolific idea of what love is and feels like. And I realized I don’t… because I don’t think I’ve ever experienced the love I pray you are as you read this. That’s not to say I don’t love your father, I do. But I want something different than convenience for you. I hope that the love you feel is safe, allows you to feel the full spectrum of what it means to be human - strong and vulnerable, insecure and confident, boisterous and timid. I hope it feels like stepping out of the cold air and into a warm embrace. I hope it is loud and unapologetic because you deserve nothing less. And I hope it makes you feel so enraptured that everything else in the world goes quiet. And lastly, I hope, more than anything, that it feels like home. That when you’re in this person’s embrace, you feel as if your soul finally landed right where it is supposed to be.

Her eyes scanned that passage over and over again, realizing that she had found the exact love her mother described. She had come back here thinking she was coming home. But this wasn’t home at all. Home was where he was. And he was back in LA, about to prepare for the biggest night of his life in 24 hours. And regardless of whatever trust needed to be rebuilt and conversations needed to be had, she could not allow herself to miss it. She could not allow herself to not show up for him.

Raven scrambled to find her phone as it was hidden beneath sheets of paper. She scrolled through, praying she had not deleted a long forgotten group thread that housed one number she had once thought she would never need but now was the most important phone number in the world.

She almost shouted praises to God when she found it, clicking the call button on the unsaved number. She paced up and down beside her bed as every agonizing ring dragged on.

“Didn’t think I’d see your name pop up on my phone ever again.”

Raven let out a sigh of relief as her voice filled her ears. “I know… me either. But I need a favor.”

“Does it involve a certain award show tomorrow night?”

“Yes. Is it too late?”

“Yea it is.” she knew Alex could hear the tiny sigh of sadness she let out. “For anyone but me. I’ve earned enough favors around here to create a miracle or two.”

“Really?? Cause I need like more than one or two miracles… a dress, hair, makeup… hell a flight from Charlotte to make it back in time. Without him knowing?”

“Consider all of it done. Hope you don’t mind getting up at the ass crack of dawn though.” Alex asked, Raven hearing the smile in her tone.

“For him… I’ll get up anytime.”

“Good. Then I'll take care of everything... I'll have to tell his mom but she'll love this. And probably be happy as hell that she doesn't have to go anymore. I'll text you details in an hour."

"An hour?? That's all you need??"

"You're new here so I'm gonna choose to not be offended by that."

"Noted." She was about to hang up when she stopped herself. “Hey… Alex? Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Seriously. Just make sure your ass is on that plane and in LAX tomorrow when Allen picks you up, got it?”

Raven chuckled. “Yea I got it. See you tomorrow.”

Tag List: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @roguekiki @majesticbrownjawn @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4 @nayaesworld @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc @apenasumlug4r @dezzy154

***

A/N: So now will y'all stop yelling at me LOLOL our good sis is going back to her man! We love to see it! How surprised do we think Michael's going to be? Part 11.2 will be the Oscars! Drop a comment and let me know what you thought! And as always, thanks for reading!

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #black panther #michael b jordan fanfic #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #adonis creed #creed iii

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dumbkiri · 6 months

Text

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕎𝕚𝕗𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝔾𝕠𝕛𝕠 𝕊𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕦 『3』

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ: ꜱᴛᴀʏ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪꜰᴜʟ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴɪᴍᴇ ꜱ2

The night of the Shibuya Incident has pushed [Name] to do the extreme; consuming Nami's soul to inherit the full power of blessed energy. Everyone will feel her presence even the King of Curses, Sukuna.

Leave a request in my inbox, comment down below for more! Also if you see misspelled names like Kenjaku...take it up with Google.

“Good morning, pretty girl.”

The sun’s bright light was the thing to actually wake her up besides the voice of her loved one. His voice was so soothing and his smile could rival the stars twinkling at night.

“Come on, open your eyes and let’s get our day started.”

His warm touch sent shivers down her arms as he caressed her shoulder blades. He fixed the loose strap of her shirt hanging off her shoulder back into place. Then she felt her small bed dip knowing that he was sitting next to her slumped body.

“One of your rose bushes-”

“What’s wrong with them?” [Name] jumped out of her bed wearing a tank top and pajama shorts. She didn’t even bother to brush her messy hair, instead she bolted to her closest and put some sandals on in a hurry.

“One of your rose bushes is blooming faster than the others.”

The male teen on her bed finished with a jesting smile on his handsome face. With this information, [Name] pouted and said to her friend, “Suguru, that was really messed up. You made me worried there.”

“So worried that you jumped up to examine your rose bushes rather than getting ready for the mission we are sent on?” Suguru asked and pushed himself off her bed. He walked over to her and brushed her hair down to make it look somewhat presentable.

Then someone else barged into her dorm with a loud greeting, “Good morning, earth worm! It’s time to go on a mission with your best friends!”

[Name] yawned and stretched her arms out, “Ah~ Good morning, Toru!” Then she focused back on the black haired male, “I’ll meet you guys out there, I need to prepare some tea for us and we’ll be on our way.”

She made her way to her closet and picked out her uniform while Suguru pushed Satoru out of her bedroom. Her door closes with a soft click and their footsteps fading away. [Name] looked at the closed door and sighed, “Geez, there’s different ways to wake me up. Next time they barge in, gimme some flower seeds or something.”

……

“It’s been awhile, pretty girl.”

Pretty girl…[Name]’s eyes blurred with sad tears and her hands trembled by her sides. Suguru Geto was standing right in front of her as well as a captured Satoru Gojo.

“Not going to greet me back? Did you forget who I am?”

She looked at Satoru and he stared back at her in clear surprise. He didn’t think she could actually cross the veils that blocked other sorcerers out. Sure, she had blessed energy, but only he was allowed in. Her blessed energy really defied all odds against her. This is what she meant back then when she spoke about her unique technique.

[Name] swallowed the lump in her throat and she wiped her tears away with a shaky breath. She had to pull this off, her domain expansion could save these people still. With Nami’s soul combining with hers, she had every ability inherited. Including the Domain Expansion: Heavenly Garden which can only be casted by Nami.

It completely erases cursed energy from anyone captured in it. It heals all afflictions and wounds; internal, physical and mental. It makes every negative emotion disperse and is replaced by kindness for everyone.

That being said, if the cursed spirits get captured in it, they immediately perish.

“Su..Suguru…” [Name] stopped crying and her act of benevolence made Satoru worry for her,“I can never forget you.” She removed her hands away from her eyes and she stamped a smile on her face, a chuckle of relief heard from her.

“You should know that I consumed Nami’s soul to save my husband and the people in Shibuya. I am granting you this fair warning, Suguru. If you are caught in my domain expansion, you along with-”

“Boo!” The cursed spirit known as patchface appeared from behind [Name] and he jumped right at her without taking her warning from earlier seriously. She stated that she consumed Nami’s soul meaning she has complete control over the blessed energy Nami was providing her with.

But she didn’t want to dispose of this curse yet. She wanted to speak to it first and then kill him for good. With incredible speed and strength that matched Sukuna’s, [Name] spun around and smacked Mahito’s hand away from her face.

“Get away from her, Mahito!” Suguru shouted, he didn’t want to lose Mahito. His technique was valuable!

[Name] smacked her right palm into Mahito’s face then slammed his whole body onto the floor with a neutral look on her face. “So you do have a name,” [Name] hummed and began squeezing his face in her grasp, “but why should I care? The people you killed had names, families, lives to live at their own will. You killed them all for the sake of fun, didn’t you?”

Mahito was struggling to get out of her hold. His legs kicked haphazardly underneath her body and he squirmed like a worm. “I don’t like seeing people around me suffer, not even a curse like you. But you caused suffering for my favorite student. You laughed in his face in his tormented moment.”

Jogo took a step forward to the woman and Mahito, ready to help the childish cursed spirit. Yet Kenjaku stuck his hand out and instructed the hothead to stay in place. He spoke with his face scrunching up in anger, “We don’t stand a chance against her. Mahito is finished and we need to leave.”

[Name] heard the rising anger in that spirit that took over her loved one’s body and she crushed Mahito’s head with ease. Mahito was successfully terminated, never coming back into this world. “I was going to have fun tormenting him, Suguru~” [Name] softly sang and pushed herself off of Mahito’s disintegrating body.

Jogo watched in fear as he saw no blood around her hand or the existence that Mahito was there. Instead Mahito was gone without a trace. “Oh?” [Name] wiped the dust off her beige slack and rolled the sleeves of her [f.color] cardigan up to her elbows, “Don’t tell me you don’t know how blessed energy works.”

“W-what did you do to him?” Jogo stuttered out and took one step back.

[Name] kept her straight face and sighed, “I got rid of him for good. When a curse is exorcized by me, they don’t come back at all. Your friend, Mahito has been on my list for a long time and he really thought he could fight me. A foolish mistake, don’t you think, Suguru?”

Kenjaku’s eyes narrowed a bit and he looked over at Gojo to see the blue eyed male have a smirk on his face. This whole situation was getting out of hand.

“Gate: Close.”

“Satoru!” [Name] shouted in surprise of her husband getting sealed. A bouquet of flowers appeared in her right hand and she threw it at the white haired male. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She cursed herself for prolonging the conversations, her first priority should have been Satoru.

Another person woke up from the trance of Infinite Void and [Name] had no choice, but to flee. She could exorcise them all in Heavenly Garden, although her body was getting extremely exhausted. From consuming Nami, to getting here and passing through the veils that wanted her out, to killing Mahito. She didn’t let herself rest after binding her soul to a goddess.

“Blessed: Sun’s Warmth,” [Name] casted out her technique and each non-sorcerer was enveloped in a golden bubble of protection. “I’m coming back for him, fake.” [Name] declared and with that all the bubbles that had the entranced people in them popped. The humans were gone as well as the reborn goddess, Nami.

“I’m going to find Sukuna’s vessel and give him the rest of the fingers,” Jogo looked up at Kenjaku and before the black haired male could respond, the prison realm slammed itself on the train platform.

“It seems the prison realm is still trying to figure out what Gojo Satoru is. We’re lucky [Name] didn’t stay long enough to see this.”

“Don’t you mean, Nami?” Jogoi questioned and watched Choso leave the floor. He knew he was also after Sukuna’s vessel, but only to kill him.

Kenjaku shook his head and plopped himself on the floor next to the box, “No, I mean, [Name]. She ate the flower that held Nami’s soul and usually the stronger one, which would be Nami, would be in control of the body. Yet [Name] continues to surpass her limits and consume Nami’s soul, taking all of the blessed power for herself. She’s now the Goddess of the Flowers.”

“Well this is just great! We need to get Sukuna to do something about her! She’s going to-”

Kenjaku chuckled and stared at the box, “What makes you think Sukuna wants to get rid of Nami?”

“Huh, but you said that Nami wasn’t-”

“I did say that Nami was gone, but Sukuna will be fooled by her god-like presence inside of [Name]. And being the pretty girl she is, [Name] is going to fool Sukuna like she fooled me. She knew I wasn’t Suguru Geto the entire time. Those tears were just for show to catch us off guard.”

Jogo became his usual grouchy self and slouched some more, “Why do you keep calling that woman, pretty girl?”

Kenjaku shrugged his shoulders with that same smile on his face, “Force of habit!”

…..

Meanwhile Satoru was in the realm sitting on top of bones with a smile on his face. He plucked a petal of the rose and dropped it on his tongue. This bouquet [Name] threw at him was grown by blessed energy and he was eating it like it was normal.

“Satoru, you have to try this for me, please!”

[Name] ran into the house with a giant grin on her face. A rose was in her hand free of thorns and it looked super pretty. He could have sworn it sparkled under the kitchen light.

“[Name], it’s two in the morning. Are you seriously gardening right now?” He chuckled and took the rose from her excited hands.

“I waited for you to come home and your mission took longer than it normally does. Anyways, my project is finished! I can now give people a bit of blessed energy! Girls, come in!” [Name] walked down the hallway and pushed her small servant girls into the kitchen.

“Don’t tell me you force fed them petals,” Satoru laughed again and set the rose onto the kitchen counter.

With a roll of her eyes, [Name] presented the six year olds and instructed Satoru to take his blindfold off. “Okay I did anyways, can you tell the difference between the girls?” She asked in anticipation and Satoru hummed as his six eyes took in the energy around the trio.

“Wow,” He whispered and he crouched down to be their height, “Why does the middle one have more of a range and it’s thicker than the other two?” The blessed energy around the middle one was amazing to see especially since she isn’t a part of the [L.Name] Clan.

“Because she ate three flowers! And this was from yesterday’s lunch!” [Name] jumped in the air with joy. After years of trying to experiment on blessed energy and trying to protect her peers, she finally succeeded. Satoru was super proud of her for reaching this point.

“Don’t you know what that means? It means people can use blessed energy and use techniques! They can do Sun’s Warmth, Fallen Petals, Wisteria’s Sway-”

Satoru stood up and smiled, putting his blindfold back on, “Okay, okay, I hear you. We should let the girls sleep though then we can discuss tomorrow's day. We’re both free of missions and I really want to spend time with you.”

The servant girls left with a few giggles seeing the lady of the house blush furiously. “Satoru, you can’t talk like that in front of the girls!” She whined embarrassed and walked into his open arms. “They already tease me saying I have a crush on you.”

“Well you had a crush on me for a while now, don’t you think?”

“Anyways~” [Name] sang and breathed in his cologne, her face snuggling closer to his chest, “Imagine what you can do with blessed energy. Nothing would touch you, you’d be unstoppable.”

“I already am,” Satoru confidently said and kissed the top of her head. “Also if you’re going to feed me flower petals, I want honey with mine.”

“You got it, Toru!”

Satoru smiled fondly at the memory and took the plastic bear full of honey out of his pocket. “No matter what she does, she’s always catching my attention. Ah~ I miss her already” Satrou looked at the roses and sighed, “Stay beautiful, my earthworm, I’ll be out soon enough.”

#x reader #anime imagine #manga imagine #x female reader #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk geto #jjk x reader #jjk gojo

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mari-lair · 6 months

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Let's talk about terukaneaoi! I love them too much to be normal, so expect everything to be based on canon but without the polish of a 'proper analysis'

Let's start with something simple: Aoi is scared of thunder, Teru can create it.

Teru's presence puts her on edge when he uses his powers, but slowly I can see him make her get used to lightning.

Teru's bracelet already gives her a connection between lightning and protection. She seems troubled when she uses it, but she does appreciate this protection, to the point she wears it in school even on her play outfit.

The more she gets used to Teru lightning, and the more her fondness for him as a person grows, the stronger this association will become, and with time I can see her fear of storms disappearing. She associates Teru with a big doggy after all, it's not a very scary view.

Akane will stop being worried about Aoi every time it storms, and start associating lightning with something that makes his partners happy.

Speaking of which, Teru and Aoi have similar interests: Aoi likes shark movies, and teru is cool watching horror movies with people he treasures. Aoi likes sweets and games, Teru likes arcade games and places that sell sugary sweets.

Teru has a more 'out of home/extreme' version of Aoi's hobby.

Teru would force her out of her comfort zone which can be wonderful, specially with how gentle he is with Aoi but I can see him getting too excited when he have fun and going overboard.

Thankfully Akane is the kind of guy who will take bullets for Aoi, so if Teru carries the Aois around like he does with Kou and Nene, Akane would either offer himself a sacrificial lamb so Aoi can rest or protect her from his more extreme ideas. Protecting Aoi is like an instinct for Akane at this point.

(unrelated but Akane calling Teru 'sir', and Aoi always holding to Akane's sleeve when she wants to get closer to him is very cute to me)

Now let's talk about something that would make their relationship a tad complicated and all the more interesting: their view on romance.

Aoi and Akane have jealousy issues and are too proud to admit when they are being possessive.

The romance in their head is super old-fashioned, they don't do casual dating, and if there is romantic interest involved they expect a marriage: Akane immediately imagines Teru and Aoi getting married when teru threatens to ask her out on a date in chapter 59, and Aoi's excuse not to date Akane is that she can't marry a guy that will make her be named Aoi Aoi.

Teru can fix this issue by making the two adopt the Minamoto surname, erasing Aoi's best excuse and likely forcing the poor coward to take a step.

However, if the Aois eventually cave in to Teru barging into their lives, and include him in their hopelessly romantic standards they would gain a problem, a very annoying problem called "Teru has a lot of fans and he actually likes the attention and doesn't wish any harm on them, so Akane can't hit his admires with a baseball bat like he does with Aoi's ." cause teru wouldn't like that and Akane is the kind of guy that would get horrified if he learns he is hurting a loved one and immediately try to fix it.

With nothing else to be done, the two would be very salty about it.

Aoi would easily be hit the worst. Her whole day gets ruined when Akane gets 1 admirer that he bluntly rejects, refusing to even take the chocolate, much less the girl's feelings.

So dating Teru, who smiles sweetly at his fans and does not care about his class making a pavilion of him with merchandise available, would be her worst nightmare.

Just picturing how she would react to moments where Teru is adored is so pitiful to me, cause I guarantee teru will still have a million fans after they starts dating, he has celebrity status. His fans love him even after they give up on a relationship with him, even Nene, who is far from his biggest fan, takes time to fully let go of her worship with him.

Aoi is also very self-conscious, the poor girl acts like people's perception of her doesn't matter but she is extremely arrogant, she will fight her crush on Teru harder than her crush on Akane because she refuses to believe she is on the same level as his fangirls.

She look down on Teru's fangirls, to some extent, telling people teru is the kind of boy every girl can fall in love with, but making sure to establish he is not her type. She used to only ever mention him to try to connect with Nene, acting so fake it's straight up condescending.

So geting a crush on Teru would give Aoi a gigantic crisis.

Both Akanes love to pretend they aren't the jealous tipe, but since they have no issues looking after each other, they would consistently use each other as excuses to reprimand Teru. So we have both Aois going "I am not bothered, not at all, but think about how much Ao-chan/Akane-kun is affected by it."

I feel like Teru would make the Aois jealous on purpose at first because he likes to torment them, and because it makes him feel special, he adores attention, but when he realizes how much it bothers Aoi he'll try to set boundaries with his fans, while simultaneously calling her out for being overly insecure, something Akane is too smitten to do when not in extreme scenarios.

Teru is not nearly as possessive as the Aois: As of now in the manga, it realistically doesn't matter if Teru likes Aoi, Akane, or the two, cause his chance of scoring a date with either is zero. At the start of the manga, he doesn't seem jealous when Akane gushes about his undying love for Aoi or when guys throw themselves at Aoi's feet. Teru is chill. It's not like anyone is making any progress so why worry?

BUT the second he catches Aoi and Akane near kissing he does not even think about doing the whole 'oh I will suppress my feelings so I do not burden them' cliché, he slams himself into their relationship, while simultaneously pushing Aoi and Akane together.

Teru talks a lot about stealing Aoi from Akane but he has no intention of doing so: He waited until the two resolved their issue in chapter 69 before barging in. He let them have a moment in the tunnel despite knowing it could be Aoi's last day 'alive'. He tries to hang out with both whenever possible. He let Akane go after Aoi in the rescue, and so on. It's not like he wants them away from each other, he just wants to be there with them.

Unrelated, but Teru's shocked "whoa" is so funny to me, cause it was revealed in the relay interview that the one thing Teru has issues with regarding Akane is his approach to win Aoi's heart.

The approach he is talking about here is before the grim reaper arc, when Akane used to tactlessly confess his love everyday and treat her like an untouchable goddess. So the 'male lead of a romance manga' approach Akane has going on in chapter 69 must truly have been a shock to Teru.

"whoa." feels as if he is shocked, appalled, but also reluctantly impressed.

Aoi and Akane are so pretty in Teru's eyes, is insane actually.

In short: I think Teru would not care if people flirt with Aoi and Akane, but he will get jealous and more clingy if Akane gives Aoi too much attention, or Aoi neglects him. The only people he can ever be jealous of are the Akanes themselves.

They all have interesting connections separated too.

Akane bonded with Teru about their mutual duties as student council members, which makes them used to work together, and also bond over their core belief when it comes to human life: both value it, albeit for different reasons, and share a similar kind of hatred for the supernaturals that endanger it.

Akane and Aoi bond about being childhood friends and having the same core belief when it comes to romance. They are fundamental parts of each other's life, witnessing the other grow, how they changed and how they stayed the same. They know each other better than anyone.

Teru and Aoi bond over feeling alienated from their peers. They don't understand each other, and their experiences and reasons for feeling this way are incredibly different, but they understand the feeling of being different better than any other human character.

One of the things the three share in common is that they are all petty with each other.

Teru wants to be a good guide in chapter 70, but both Aois are still salty about the kiss he interrupted and refuse to take his hand. Akane is always delighted to drag Teru down, just as Teru is to bully him, and Aoi looks happy propositionally making Akane jealous.

It combines into the best kind of 'wow they are awful, I love them' interactions.

It's like Teru's mere presence brings the worst out of the Aois, but despite Akane and Aoi's confusion when it comes to Teru a lot of times, they don't hate him. They grow fond of him.

Akane grow to respect Teru. I would go as far as to say that deep down he always admired him a little, because his perception of Teru changes from "a demon" to "a nice husband that would make Aoi happy" in the span of 20 chapters.

The three can be unconventional about their care for each other, but to me, it is undeniable they value each other opinions and well being.

Even Aoi grows a soft spot for Teru, and this strange but prevalent display of care in their actions speaks volumes.

Terukaneaoi can make each other better just as easily as they can make each other worse. They balance each other out while leaving space for a lot of conflicts that can be explored, honestly, they are plain fun, and I adore them.

Bonus: Their height difference is beautiful, just look at them!

#i gtg but this was fun I may write more about them later #tbhk #terukane #aoikane #terukaneaoi #teruaoi #toilet bound hanako kun #jshk #jibaku shounen hanako kun #aoi akane #akane aoi #teru minamoto #character analysis #??

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incurablesimp · 8 months

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It still kinda baffles me when I see people talking about how evil Aziraphale was for abandoning Crowley and leaving him all alone on Earth. Because did we watch the same show?

Aziraphale loves Crowley, it was not his wish for things to turn out this way. But Aziraphale also has always believed in good and has tried to do as much good as he could. That angel has always put others over his own happiness. If that wasn't the case he would've run to Alpha Centauri with Crowley in the 1st season right as Crowley mentioned it under that bandstand. But he didn't. Crowley was the one to suggest the idea of postponing the Armageddon, Aziraphale was the one who never gave up on that idea. He wasn't ready to just give up on trying to save people. He was also the one who tried to shoot Adam and the one who forced Crowley to do something even though Satan was on his way. Where Crowley felt like nothing could be done, Aziraphale knew there were options left.

So of course he decided to go and try to fix heaven. Aziraphale never gives up, he tries and tries to find solutions. He's going to try to make heaven truly good too, because that's what he does. He never gives up. He wanted Crowley to come with him as it would erase the conflict between them, the good old "you're a demon, I'm an angel". Because he saw it as an easy way to be together. And because he needs him. Crowley had every right to refuse and I still think he was in the right for refusing, absolutely. Which doesn't change the fact that Aziraphale was really excited for that idea and it broke his heart when Crowley said no.

Other thing is, Crowley was left alone on Earth being just as lonely as he used to be and actually even more because this time Aziraphale is not around. Not even to stop him from killing Job's children, not even to shield him from rain. But it's not like Aziraphale went to heaven to have a party with his good old friends.

Aziraphale was exactly as lonely as Crowley was. He avoided talking to Gabriel, Uriel, Michael and others. He wanted nothing else than to stay on Earth and talk to them as little as he could because he was afraid of them and he didn't think of them as of good angels. He's always preferred Crowley's presence over theirs. Which means he's preferred a literal demon over his fellow angels.

Which leaves him exactly as lonely as Crowley now that they're separated. They both have no one to turn to, no one to seek help from. Aziraphale can't just take his phone and call Crowley and vice versa. They both lost something precious to them. They lost each other. Aziraphale is exactly as abandoned as Crowley is. He did not just do it for fun, he sacrificed his and Crowley's happiness.

#good omens #good omens s2 #good omens season 2 #good omens season two #michael sheen #crowley x aziraphale #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #good omens spoilers #david tennant

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bangchansimpxo · 4 months

Text

In the Stacks

pairing: jung wooyoung x reader

genre: fluff, suggestive, angst if you squint

summary: you work at the school library with jung wooyoung. it's exam season and wooyoung isn't helping you concentrate on studying, but maybe he can help you with other things.

cw: minor swearing, suggestive content

~originally posted on AO3~

lol i just have a lot of unreleased tension

You were going to kill Jung Wooyoung.

The ninth object of the day whacked the back of your head.

Get a job at the school library they said.

It’ll be quiet and peaceful they said.

Perhaps that would’ve been the case if the person you worked with wasn’t an overgrown man-child who flirted with anything that moved and needed attention every five seconds. What should’ve been an easy task of putting returned books away turned into an obstacle course of dodging the things Wooyoung threw at you. You’d dodged wadded up balls of paper, pencils, paper clips, erasers, even the occasional bookmark.

“Wooyoung, I swear to god.”

Wooyoung gave you his signature grin — the one that said he knew he did something wrong but felt absolutely no guilt about it.

“What did I do?” He asked innocently.

Turning away, you stretched up to push a book onto its shelf. You prayed that he would stop bothering you if you just ignored him. But of course, this was Jung Wooyoung you were talking about. Incessant poking began on your arm. You tilted your head slightly to find him right next to you, devilishly grinning in your face.

“Why do you hate me?” he asked, continuing to jab your arm.

You swatted his hand away and pushed past him, “I wonder why.”

You were giving him less attention than usual, you would admit. You two usually had a good amount of banter going and the occasional actual conversation. But it was exam season and there were four tests you desperately needed to study for. Your scholarship was riding on you doing well in all of your courses and you couldn’t afford to lose it. The goal was to finish up re-shelving books so you could hole up behind the circulation desk and study until you were interrupted. But your coworker was making that task very, very difficult.

You rounded the corner to face the door to the storage room where the library kept extra hoards of the books used for classes. Withdrawing the key from your cart of books you unlocked the storage room, carefully maneuvering your cart so that it kept the door ajar. The storage room automatically locked once it was shut and there was no way to unlock it from the inside.

It was definitely a safety hazard and the library had tried multiple times to get it fixed after several students had gotten locked in, but their efforts were in vain.

You moved into the space with Wooyoung following closely behind. You both grabbed stacks off the cart, sliding books into place as Wooyoung hummed to himself rather loudly.

“Got any exams this week?” he said after finishing his tune.

“Four.” you replied.

“Oooo,” he said as you felt him slide up next to you. “Need help studying?”

You glanced at him purely to fix him with a glare, “No, I need your help finishing this,” you gestured to the cart full of books, “so that I can study.”

“I’m actually pretty good at studying.” he tried to say.

You rolled your eyes at him, “Okay Mr. 30% on the calc exam.”

Wooyoung opened his mouth to say something else but you cut him off before he could even get the words out, “Just work Wooyoung, please.”

Perhaps it was the fatigue evident in your voice but you enjoyed a few blissful moments of silence, the only sound the soft hush of the books sliding onto their shelves.

It would’ve been a lovely way to end your task as the number of books steadily declined on your cart, but Jung Wooyoung was Jung Wooyoung. As you both reached for the same shelf, Wooyoung bumped into your hip with his. Already off balance from being on your tiptoes to reach the shelf, you stumbled, bumping into the cart and knocking it clear past the threshold of the storage room.

“Wooyoung the—” the door slammed shut, “door.”

You let out a frustrated groan and slowly turned your eyes to the male.

“Uhhhh—”

“I’ve had it.”

“Y/N wait—”

“No.” you said, “I put up with a lot from you Wooyoung. A. Lot. And just this once,” you shook your pointer finger, “Just this once. I ask you to act like an adult and actually do you job. I explain to you how stressed I am and how I want to use all the time I can studying for exams. And I ask you, nicely, to just do your fucking job. But do you listen? Noooo. You throw pencils. You throw erasers. You somehow throw bookmarks. Because it is too much. Too fucking much, to ask the wonderful and endearing and playful Jung Wooyoung to not be his playful and annoying self and get his job done for once. It’s too much to—”

Wooyoung’s lips were pressed against yours. Soft, yet demanding. Encouraging you to open up, yet stealing the words right from your mouth.

When he pulled back, he looked just as surprised as you. His eyes were wide and his hands covered his mouth.

“What. The fuck. Was that?” you said.

“I’m sorry,” he stammered out, “I don’t know what came over me, I didn’t want to force that on you, I’m so sorry, I was panicking and you were yelling and I didn’t know what to do, I don’t know why that’s the thing that happened, I-”

You grabbed his shirt and pulled him in sharply, connecting you lips once again. The kiss was heated, fierce, but over before it really started. You shoved him away.

“What was that?!” he exclaimed.

“Now we’re even.”

Wooyoung shook his hands over his head and spun in a full circle before squaring himself off in front of you and looking you dead in the eye.

“Let’s do this right,” he said. “Can I kiss you?”

The word ‘yes’ had barely left your mouth before he was pulling you in by the waist and locking your lips together. Your fingers found his hair as you parted your lips to allow him more access.

His tongue teased the entrance of your mouth. His hands sliding down further, one sliding into the back pocket of your jeans, the other squeezing the other side. The squeeze made you gasp, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth.

Your body pressed flush against him and yet you kept stepping forward as if you could get closer. When his back hit the wall you pushed against him as much as you possibly could, his free hand finding the small of your back to pull you impossibly closer.

Your lips parted and the two of you struggled to catch your breaths, your lips still almost touching. Wooyoung firmly gripped your waist, spinning you so that you were pressed up against the wall.

“Jump,” he said gruffly.

He didn’t need to tell you twice.

Your legs wrapped around his solid torso, he held you up with a combination of his hands on your ass and the friction of pushing you against the wall. He sealed your lips together, his neck craning upwards to connect them in your new position.

Your hands felt his strong shoulders, fingernails digging into his back when he nipped your lips. When he pulled back again he looked at you through heavy lidded eyes. His tongue darted out of his mouth to lick his swollen lips. He zeroed in on your exposed neck leaning forward to find your sweet spot.

You struggled to contain the gasp that fought it’s way out when he accomplished his goal.

“Wooyoung,” you managed to breathe out.

You weakly tapped his shoulder, and sighed out, “Wooyoung.”

He gently lowered you to the floor, bracing his forearm above your head. He looked down at you with a warm hand still on your waist. It was difficult to concentrate with him leaning over you, pupils entirely dilated.

“What are we doing?” you asked softly.

He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “I think I’m helping you relieve stress.”

Your hands weakly held onto the sides of his shirt by his waist, “Oh.”

He maneuvered to kiss the other corner of your mouth, “Do you feel less stressed?”

You thought about it as he stooped down to kiss your jaw, “Yes.”

He peered up at you with a smirk that made your stomach flip, “Do you want to keep going?”

“Yes.”

#wooyoung #jung wooyoung #ateez #ateez x reader #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x y/n #wooyoung x you #atiny #ateez wooyoung #library #university au #fluff #ateez fluff

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yandere-dandelion · 2 years

Text

A yandere is looking in your window, as they often do, and see you fell asleep on the couch.

That just won’t do! You’ll hurt your neck and back doing that. Plus, what if you fall off?

They break in, as they often do, intending to simply carry you to bed, but closer inspection reveals just how exhausted you look.

“Oh, darling,” they whisper, and hold you a little closer, a little tighter. “This just won’t do at all. You’re so overworked… something has to change.”

So, your yandere carries you to bed, savoring the feeling of your form in their arms, and tucks you in. But instead of just kissing and cuddling like they usually do when they break in, they stealthily but speedily clean and organize your entire living space while you sleep.

(Continued under the cut)

Your yandere views this as a win-win situation all around. They get to take care of you and have free range of your house, and in return you don’t have to worry about chores. Plus, maybe this would help you warm up to them! Their stalking had made you uneasy in the past, but maybe this would make you realize they’re not all that bad!

It’s hard work for them, especially since they have to be completely silent or else they’ll wake you, and they have to resist the temptation to kiss and cuddle you all night, but it’s worth it if it makes you even the slightest bit happy.

And you are happy, but you’re also really confused. You don’t remember cleaning your house, but everything is spotless. How the hell did this happen?

The only explanation you can think of is that someone broke in to do your chores, but that’s crazy… right?

The situation only gets more bizarre from there. Your yandere’s visits become more frequent as time goes on, going from once a month to every two weeks to every week to every day. Not only do they clean your house, they also wash your dishes, take out the trash, do your laundry, and buy your groceries. In addition, they might repair or replace broken items and appliances— you’re still not sure how they managed to fix your AC without you waking up.

You’re still unaware that they’ve stolen a few of your belongings— nothing you’d miss, of course, and they always replace the things they take— and they left recording devices all over your house during their visits.

You’re creeped out, but you decide not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Instead, you leave a thank you note on the kitchen counter and a few dollars, and in the morning, the note is gone but the money remains. Your yandere adds the note to their shrine, but accepts payment only in your happiness.

But they seem to have mistaken the note for permission to do as they please, because they start leaving you gifts. Small things at first, barely noticeable, like little candies, an eraser, or a new pen, but over time the gifts become more lavish— jewelry, clothes, flowers, chocolates, expensive soaps, and so on.

Then they start leaving reminders around your house. “Remember to talk to your boss today!” “Dr’s appointment at 5:30!” “Don’t forget to drink water!”

Then:

“You’re so cute <3”

“You can do it!”

“You looked so good at the café yesterday in that outfit!”

“I love you! <3”

“You smell nice :)”

“You’re adorable when you sleep <3”

“You don’t have to worry about that guy bothering you anymore. I took care of him. I’ll always keep you safe.”

“I can’t wait to marry you.”

Yeah, it’s super creepy, but at least you don’t have to do the dishes anymore.

#yandere bnha #yandere #tw yandere #yandere deku #my writing

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pierogish · 2 months

Note

your art is so wonderful! its so expressive and colorful and joyful and never overworked. your compositions also really blow my mind! if youve ever recorded any timelapses or if you ever would like to elaborate on your process ever, i would love to see it + would pay money to. have a good day!

Hi! I apologize that it took me so long to get to this ask! Thank you so much for this incredible and kind compliment!! :') <3 I enjoy having fun with compositions and everything else and I'm glad you like what comes out of it!

Thank you for being interested in process! I haven't been answering for so long because I couldn't come up with a good answer... I have never recorded any timelapses and don't intend to in the nearest future. Also every time the process looks differently, haha..

But I compiled potentially interesting pictures (for free) - under cut :)

one fun thing I do quite often is that I begin something on paper and then complete digitally. Doodling in textbooks and sketchbooks was the beginning of many stuff

This Seri process is one of my favorites, he was born from leftover green food coloring that I splashed and smeared over pages. Then I begin my favorite game of searching for shapes and letting them "grow" naturally from what there is.. if that makes sense.

From those little monsters that were born during classes then appeared compositions, because having some starting point is helpful to me, even if it gets completely lost eventually.

I don't have a scan and use the imperfection of phone pics for my advantage, sometimes it creates additional texture or interesting colors after little bit of editing.

This one took longer than most of other works. (dont go after me for unrealistic architecture)

I was struggling to come up with compostition for the cathedral so again beginning with a doodle of a random arch helped. and in the end there's an infinite "yeah now it's finally done" *spends a couple of hours more*. on screenshot these are all versions I thought would be final and I sent them to look at on my phone and immediately went to fix something else :P

Beginning from a detail isn't a classic way to build a composition, and usually it's reasonable to start from defining big shapes, and that's what I do often. There are just different approaches of creating compostitions that I like using. Starting from a piece and shaping the rest from there helps me find something I maybe wouldn't have thought of doing otherwise. But it's very important to always hold a big picture in mind of course! After looking at a piece of doodle for a while, I have an approximate picture in mind of how I want to use it.

With digital doodles I usually do lineart immediately without sketching it first, then I can edit or erase it or blend with colors. Have fun and be yourself is the only rule

thank you again <3 I hope it was helpful!

#asks

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smoooothoperator · 1 year

Text

What A Shame

04: Human

Driver! Charles Leclerc x Singer! OC (Juliette Morelli)

Exes to Lovers, Forced Proximity, Childhood Sweathearts

Summary: memories and small confessions, what can go wrong?

Words: 2.2k

warnings: Sebastian Stan x OC, charles' dad, still angsty, flashbacks are on italics

Official Playlist

Masterlist

previous part | next part

a/n: hello beautiful people! i know this chapter is short but don't worry, tomorrow you'll have a new one!

🎤

"Juliette, can I ask you something?" he said smiling, playing with my hair.

Sebastian Stan. We flirted for a long time, working together on Marvel and now on our own new movie was something that made us be close. I knew he was older, fifteen years older, but that never stopped me. Age doesn't matter, right?

I knew he had feelings for me, but he never told me. We liked each other, even acted like a couple, but we never were one, we never talked about it. I went to his house to sleep and he came to mine to do the same. We slept together and tried to be careful so no one noticed our relationship.

"I'm not the guy of your songs, right?" he sighed, smiling weakly.

"W-what?" I frown looking at him, sitting on the bed and covering my naked chest with the blanket.

"I noticed that every year you drop a love song the same day" he smiled weakly, holding my hand and squeezing it. "I'm not him, right? Those love songs are not for me"

"Seb…" I mumble, swallowing thickly.

“Something inside of me knew that those songs were for someone else, but I just wanted to believe that you wrote them for me” he mumbled, never erasing the smile of his lips.

I looked at him, feeling my heart beating faster after hearing his confession.

"The last four years I noticed that you always stare at your red clothes" he said, brushing his thumb on my knuckles. "That you write a lot in your notebook and sometimes I hear you cry when you think I'm asleep"

I looked at him, surprised. He noticed all those things?

"Who hurt you, Juliette?" he whispered, pushing my body to his, wrapping his arms around me.

"Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc" I whisper, saying all his names, feeling how they burned my throat. "The guy of the songs is him"

"Oh…" he nodded and I could hear his heart beating under my ear. "You want to tell me? I'm here for you, you know that"

"You are too good for me, Sebastian" I whisper, feeling tears in my eyes. "You are too good for me and I don't deserve it"

"Why not? Hey, come here" he whispered, rubbing my arm and peppering soft kisses on my forehead.

"Because I won't love you" I whisper. "I won't love you because he still owes my heart and he always will. Because he's just my soulmate and even if he broke my heart I'll never stop loving him"

"That's… That's beautiful, doll" he whispered and I could hear his heart breaking. “I’m sure you two will fix things”

I have to be strong. I need to be strong. Strong heart, even if the other half of it is no longer with me, but with him.

"Leave me alone, Charles" I said, tightening the grip of the microphone in my hand. "You did it once, it is not that hard. Just walk away and don't look back"

"I won't" he said frowning. "What the hell happened to you?"

"What happened to me?" I scoffed, trying to not let the tears show up. "You. That's what happened. And if you don't want me to raise my voice and make Valerie angry because I can't sing after screaming at you, leave me the fuck alone"

"So you can't scream at me but you can scream when Lando fucked you like a whore, hm?" he said and I saw the vein in his forehead showing up. He's pissed.

But that didn't stop me from slapping his cheek. That didn't stop me from making his head turn to the side with the strength of the slap making his cheek get red.

"Don't you dare to call me that way ever again" I said angry, pointing at him with a finger.

He would never call me that. He would never call a woman that way.

I saw the shock in his face, the way his jaw clenched hard and how his chest moved anxious. Even after all these years I know how he feels by only looking at him.

"Leave" I said, trying to sound hard.

Leave before I regret everything I did.

Before he could say something else I turned around, my hand in my chest holding all the pain, and left the microphone on its stand, walking inside the building and going as fast as I could to my room, with memories running around my mind and making the tears go down my cheeks.

Why can't I forget Charles and be happy for once? Why does he hurt so bad?

All those years I played with men, using them and throwing them away like they were toys, just because I wanted to forget someone that hurt me.

Why does he has that control over me? Why do I still love him after what he did to me?

I searched my notebook, grabbing it and going through the pages and reading everything. All the pain written down on it, all the anger and fear. He's my life, I can't live without him.

I saw his eyes. The pain in them mixed with anger and desperation. The way he clenched his jaw meant that he was anxious, scared. I saw it many times.

"I can't believe I lied to him" he mumbled looking at himself in the mirror, dark circles under his eyes while trying to button his shirt.

"Love, it was for the best" I whispered as I walked towards him, the black dress moving as I walked towards his panicking figure. "You know that it made him happy, he left happy"

"He's disappointed" he mumbled, his eyes getting red slowly. "I just… God, how could I do something as stupid as that! Lying to my father while he was dying right in front of my eyes"

His breathing was quick, his nostrils moving with his breathing. The vein on his temple was visible and the naw was tense. All his body language was screaming panic and anxiety.

"Charles, love, listen to me" I whisper cupping his cheeks, wiping away the angry tears. "Your dad was, is and will always be proud of you. You are following your dreams and he's so happy for that. If you don't get the Ferrari seat this year you'll have it next! It will come in the right time"

"But…" he mumbled, slowly leaning on my touch. "I'm losing everything… Jules and now my father"

"You are not losing me" I whisper, pecking his lips. "You'll never lose me"

I stopped on that page. I wrote a song for him after he lost his father. I needed to be calm for him, he needed someone to lean on while he was breaking down. Turns out that I never released it, I never put a melody to it. I only wrote down my feelings to let all that sadness get out of my heart.

But right now, even if that song was for him after his father passed away, that song talks about me.

I hugged the notebook close to my chest, letting the words get close to my heart.

All those love songs, even if they were heartbreaking songs, were only for him.

"Juliette?"

I looked up to the wooden door, three knocks followed my name. He's out there, on the other side of the door.

"Leave" I said out loud, making sure he heard me.

"I just want to talk" he said. "Can you let me in, please?"

"The door is open" I mumbled, noticing the moment he opened the door that I said that.

I saw him walk in, closing the door behind him and standing in front of it. I could read him like an open book, still. I could see that he was nervous, that his mind was trying to find words in whatever language that comes first to his mind. I could see his eyes were asking me for permission to sit next to me on the bed. He's the same after all those years away from me.

"I tried to hate you" I said, looking down at my lap. "I tried so hard, so so hard… But it never worked"

I heard his feet moving on the floor and walking closer to the bed. But still, he didn't sit down.

"I had a lover" I said laughing sadly. "A man that worshiped the floor I walked on. That, no matter what, loved me. But I couldn't love him back"

"Juls…" he sighed, calling me by the nickname he gave me. It just made my heart break because I missed hearing him say it.

"Sebastian was amazing" I whisper, holding the notebook closer to my chest. "But I couldn't love him back. God, not when…"

"I never had a lover all this time" he said, making me feel worse than I already was feeling. "I couldn't find a woman that made me feel how you did… It was impossible to find someone that made me feel as complete as you did"

I looked at him, how he sat at the edge of the bed, close yet away from me.

"I'm sorry I called you a whore" he frowned looking at me. "You are not a whore, I just… I was mad, Juls. You just slept with one of my friends and it really made me sad"

I took a deep breath and nodded. I saw him reaching my notebook to read it. I don't care if he does, after all, everything that is inside is all about him.

"Those songs… I never heard them" he said, reading the lyrics. "This one…"

But I'm only human

And I bleed when I fall down

I'm only human

And I crash and I break down

Your words in my head, knives in my heart

You build me up and then I fall apart

'Cause I'm only human

"Is the one I wrote for you when your dad passed away" I whisper tired. "I witnessed everything from outside, I saw how broken you were and…"

"And I kept going on" he whispered, his fingers caressing the black handwritten words. "I kept fighting for a seat that made my life a hell"

"Charles I didn't want to say that…" I frown looking at him, how he smiled weakly.

"But you were right" he nodded. "You are always right. You always told me that red is the meaning of danger. Yet I never listened to you… If I did none of this would have happened and we could be already married like I promised you"

I looked at him surprised. He remembers. He remembers the promise.

"I was so blind, so selfish" he frowned, focussing his eyes on his hands. "I wanted to win, to fight and be the best out there. I wanted to be the first driver, be someone important for Ferrari. I wanted to be a legend… I wanted to be what they called me, il predestinato…"

"You brought them wins, Charles…" I sighed reaching for my notebook.

"And they brought me misery, insecurities, anxiety…" he said looking back at me. "You know, I had a season where I thought I could be a champion. It was in 2022. I thought I could fight, that I could be a world champion"

"I read it, yeah" I nodded, making him raise his eyebrows surprised.

"That season started amazing, I started winning the first race with Carlos next to me" he smiled weakly, sitting on the end of the bed comfortably, smiling like remembering a dream. "I fought, I had podiums… but then I started to fuck up everything. Ferrari started to destroy every chance I had to be on top of the podium. They fucked up my races, making me doubt myself…"

I look at him and swallow thickly. Maybe if I begged him to stay he would be better. Maybe it really was my fault for not fighting for us. I could have made him a better man, he could have someone next to him to support him.

No. He decided himself that he didn't want me by his side. He pushed me away and made the decision alone.

I took a deep breath and closed the notebook that open on the bed, holding it on my chest.

"But still, you've got what you wanted" I said, my voice coming stronger. "You've got two championships, as I heard"

"Yeah, but…"

"Will you please leave? I have to get ready for lunch" I said, getting up off the bed and opening the door for him to leave.

"Juls" he frowned looking at me.

"Don't call me like that ever again" I said, biting my lip, holding the door handle tighter. "I'm not yours anymore. You lost every right to call me like that"

I saw his eyes getting wet, red. I can read him like a book and I hate that. Because I know how he feels right now and it makes me want to hold him.

He got up and walked out of the room, and I just closed the door before I saw him turning around to look at me. I can't let him win this time, I can't let him have whatever he wants. He was the one that wanted me out of his life.

taglist

@lestappenloverr @racinggirl @roni-midnights @livster @kakorrhaphiphobia @starkeyellow

#f1 #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 drabble #f1 serie #formula 1 fic #formula 1 drabble #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine

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