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#the signs were there but i didn't want to believe
a-b-riddle · 15 hours
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Part Three
Warning: If you don't like Taylor Swift, you're not gonna like this chapter that much, homie. But So Long, London is so fitting for this drabble series. (I guess a series since it's longer than a drabble at this point)
Can’t stop thinking about reader just trying to move on
You had to remind yourself several times not to check in with the guys. It had almost become second nature doing something big like this. But going to another country…
Not that they would care. You told yourself. It was for the best that way.
The expo went better than you expected. You didn’t believe that there would be a line out the door of eager readers wanting to read your book, but you got a decent amount. More than a few told you they couldn’t wait to read it. Several asking for photos and asking questions on any future books, a spin-off or even continuing the series.
When one a particular large group of girls your age asked for a group photo, you could have cried. They were had found each other in an online book club. You had given them your book several months ago. All copies signed with a note thanking them for taking the time to read what you had poured your heart into.
You had spent a large chunk of your free time talking to them. Bonding more so as women than over your book.
"Have you listened to Taylor's new album?"
It had only been out for two days and you had been able to avoid it like the plague. You didn't need to even listen to 'So Long, London' to know it would fucking gut you. So you would enjoy your time in the states. Save the listening experience for when you were packing up their stuff.
They had posted and tagged you before continuing on with the rest of the expo. You had reposted the photo to your own social media. Or at least one attached to the pen name you had crafted. You only had twelve thousand instagram followers, but it was something.
The first day was much like the second. You had attended several Q & A sessions with a panel of more experienced authors and managed to go to a few meet and greets. Before you knew it, it was time to pack up shop.
The agent the publishing house had assigned to you had stuck with you for most of the day. You were able to pick her brain a bit about new ideas for possible future plot lines and her thoughts. Overall, the trip was great.
Not only were you able to make great connections and take a lot back home with you to reference, but for a few days you forgot what waited for you back home. Or rather what wasn't waiting for you.
By the time your plane landed back in London you could barely hold yourself up. You left the expo, went straight to the hotel to shower, pack and head to the airport.
Your flight was delayed. Your luggage was taking forever to get onto the belt. It was only seven, but fuck if you weren’t ready to just call it a day. Tomorrow you would have to start again. Opening up the shop. Coming back to an empty flat. Maybe start gathering up the items the boys had left behind.
Should you give them in separate boxes or just one giant one and let them sort it out themselves? It was easy to discern whose sweatshirt and t-shirts belonged to who, but when it got to things like socks and chargers...
Yeah.
They could sort it themselves.
You could drop it off at Kyle's when you knew he would be at the gym. He was good at avoiding you anyway.
It wasn't until you stood in your apartment did it hit you.
You were alone.
For the first time in over a year you couldn't call one of them over to soothe that ache of loneliness.
For the first time in over a year, you had to relearn how to handle just being alone.
You usually showered at night. Washing away the grime of the day before settling into bed. But today was a new chapter. You woke up wanting to start it on a good note. Plus you went straight to bed after getting home so you still had a bit of airport funk on you.
It had been a week. One official since you had sent that text nailing the coffin shut. You had touched base with your friends who didn't bat an eye at you dating four men at once. They liked them, even if Simon scared them. You didn't give them the details of the breakup or the cause. You were pretty private in your problems and if you wanted relationship advice, you would seek an unbiased unopinion.
You had a good group of friends, but the moment you told them that you were well and truly heartbroken, they would insist the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Something you were nowhere near ready for.
So you needed to look like you had your shit together. You put on a dress that was feminine and, most importantly, comfy as fuck. An A-line floral frock paired with a light sweater and some white trainers. You knew a few of your friends would be stopping by for tea so you need to look like you were taking the separation well. Even if you were barely holding it together.
With makeup and perfume on, you started the early morning stroll to your shop.
You loved openings. Starting up the register and selecting the playlist for today. Picking out the essential oil to put in the diffuser even though you mostly stuck with a lavender and vanilla blend during the spring months.
For the morning you stuck with a Taylor Swift Instrumental playlist you had found initially for studying, but you liked the peaceful feeling it brought. Even when it covered the most gut wrenching songs.
You had started to collect the online orders that had accumulated over the last week. Sending out the e-mails alerting to your patrons that their orders were ready for pick up. Luckily you weren't set to receive a delivery until tomorrow.
It was eight and everything was set. Although not many people came to a bookstore at eight in the morning, it really didn't bother you opening up that early considering you were the only employee that was on the payroll. It gave you the possibility of making money, but mostly you spent the morning reading or writing.
You flipped the sign over from CLOSED to OPEN. Ready to start take on the day.
You had turned the kettle on in the back room when your friends had stopped by around lunch. You always said it was just tea, but you always had an array of snacks on standby for you all to munch on.
Meredith was complaining about what a dick the new client at the law firm was being. An absolute slime who had been married to his wife for almost twenty-five years before he decided to fuck his twenty-two year old assistant.
Tabitha didn't want to talk about work. To her, her career in tech was just a paycheck. She did what she needed to do and left when she was done.
You talked about the expo and how your book. Although neither of them really read, they had promised that they would read your book. You didn't hold your breath. They had reposted your posts as well as making ones of their owns in celebration of you. Words of praise about your dedication and hard work.
You realized that even though they couldn't give you the support you needed as readers, they supported you blindly. You could have written absolute garbage, but they would still support you.
You talked about how many people liked your book and wanted pictures and to sign their copies.
Then came the question you had been rehearsing since you had texted them a week ago. They both shared a look before Meredith finally asked.
"How are you holding up?" You gave a half-smile and a shrug. So perfectly rehearsed in your head you were ready to deliver your lies lines.
"I'm fine," you lied. "It was just fading so there isn't much of a difference, I guess." Not necessarily a lie. "We just wanted different things and were on different paths in life." Not a lie. "It's for the best." You weren't sure if that last one was a lie or not just yet.
They both shared a passing look before returning their gazes back to you. "You know you can come to us about this stuff." Tabitha's hand reached across the table, placing a hand on top of yours.
"It wasn't going to work out." You added. "Situations like that don't and I should have known better."
"A situation?" Meredith asked. "When have you ever called it a situation?"
"It always was one."
"I love you enough to call bullshit." She raised her eyebrow at you, crossing her arms over her chest. "You loved them and you need to stop pretending this is easy."
"You're a divorce lawyer, Mere," You reminded. "You see marriages fall apart every day."
"I do. I get to see from across the table how a woman is still willing to take her cheating arse of a husband back. So the fact that you went from on cloud nine with all of them to not even talking about the break up is concerning to say the least."
"Tabitha," you looked at your only ally left. "A little back up would be nice."
"I'm with her on this one." She confirmed. "You loved them. Not that I cared, but if you weren't talking about books or the shop, you were talking about them. What you did, where you went. How they fucked you."
"I think I'll miss that part the most." Mere sighed. "I lived vicariously through you."
"You know you could actually date people." Tabitha suggested.
"I'd rather live with chronic carpal tunnel than a man." You almost choked on your tea. If you were wearing pearls you would have used the comedic relief of clutching them to break the awkwardness of the current topic of conversation.
"That should be put on a t-shirt." You suggested
"I wouldn't mind it on a welcome mat to be honest." Tabitha added.
"But in all seriousness, cut this bullshit." Meredith gave you an sympathetic smile. "We're here. Good, bad and ugly."
You returned her smile. "I know."
You had closed up shop for the evening. Your lunch had gone longer than expected so now you were left doing the dishes and clean up during closing. You were setting the last cup on the drying rack when you heard the front door chime.
Shit.
You must have forgotten to lock the door when you turned the sign.
“I’m sorry!” You apologized, making your way out of the back break area and to the front of the store. “We’re-”
“Closed.” He said, locking the door behind him. “I saw the sign.”
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≡;-꒰ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒆
╰┈➤ ❝ rafayel x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni
tags : pwp (without plot), softdom!rafayel, but also kiiind of switch!rafayel, kissing and making out, teasing, guided masturbation, inappropriate use of a paintbrush, clit play, nipple play, slight overstimulation, slight edging if you squint, thigh riding, praise, cursing, dirty talk, use of pet names "my muse" "princess" "baby", lmk if i missed any tags !! ((unedited))
wc : 3.2k
taglist : @zaynesaurora @darlingdummycassandra (+ @seaofgoldensand mwah) | sign up here!
an : guys bc ,,,,,, i swear you never truly realize how daunting it can be to act as an impromptu live model for someone.. until you try it...
You underestimate the intimacy of eye-contact.
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It was quiet.
Too quiet.
There was nothing but silence in the air, only occasionally interrupted by a tap of his shoe on the floor, or a squeaking of the chair when he moved. There was the tick-tick-tick of the clock on the wall, and the faint, hushed sound of delicste brushstrokes on the canvas...
These were the only things you could focus on, if not at the way that he looked at you.
Rafayel's stare was intense.
Anytime he would shift his gaze from the canvas and back to you; anytime you'd catch the way his eyes would take in the shape of your figure...
You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt; this was just part of the process. He was only being professional, after all—of course an artist needed to look at his model!
...But it was less about what he felt; this was something that you, yourself couldn't take.
"Eyes up here, princess," came his voice, the familiar sing-songy tone to it triggering a bout of butterflies.
You were torn, somewhat.
You wished you could wipe that knowing smile right off of his face, but simultaneously felt that you could cave underneath even just that stupid, stupid gaze of his.
...And you knew that you had brought this upon yourself.
Whatever bickering had started with his whine about a "lack of inspiration" and a roll of your eyes in response, had settled with you offering to be his model.
You even recalled how surprised he was, the concern that etched on his features—
"Hm? But it could take a while, you know. Might be uncomfortable for you to sit for so long."
You figured it couldn't hurt. You were willing to get through it if it meant finally bringing your partner out of his rut, and in turn, his willingness to paint you—when he had sworn that portraits were never even his thing—felt like a little treat.
However, as much as you believed you'd have the upper hand in this situation, you severely underestimated it.
Now, you sat atop a cushioned chair, assuming a position you were comfortable with holding for a time unspecified. You donned normal, unnassuming clothing, just your everyday top and jeans. And in front of you sat a painter and his canvas, his hands moving tastefully over the piece he crafted, a certain twinkle in his eye that already had you reeling.
Rafayel was painting you, and by all means did nothing about this set up look the least bit intimate to either of you—
But you felt like it was.
It was a private moment, just the two if you in this room, gazes meeting with an intensity that made you want to squeeze something.
You didn't know if you had to owe it to how attractive he was, but staying like this, with nothing else to focus your attention on, you could only notice how pretty he was. Soft, layered hair so perfectly styled into place, his signature low-cut shirt framing his figure so nicely...
And his eyes.
God, his eyes.
Rafayel had the most captivating eyes you'd ever seen—A mix of a deep magenta and cerise, of mulberry and wine... So unrelenting in their allure that though the intensity had your heart beating wildly in your chest, you could never, for the life of you, ever tear your gaze away.
It was visceral.
It sent a tingle down your spine.
You could curse all the memories that would flood to your head just because of it, those images and sensations of your nights together. The way he'd look at you, with lust, and love, such passion imbued with every roll of his hips against yours... This wasn't the time to be thinking of such things, you knew that. They brought an obvious hue of pink to your cheeks that you knew he'd notice, but you almost couldn't help it—
Was a siren's allure truly so confining?
You had nowhere to run.
Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you could almost think this was...
Intentional.
"Little muse, you're blushing."
If you thought it couldn't get any worse, you were clearly wrong.
Rafayel's brushstrokes had paused, and the mirth that danced in his eyes set off all the warning bells that your brain could manage.
"...Shut up, you're imagining things," you mumbled, willing youself to turn your head away from him.
"Ah ah ah~ I'm not done yet, don't move, princess."
And to think that when you'd started, he'd been concerned for you.
Despite yourself, you fidgeted in your seat.
You couldn't take any more of this.
You'd been at it for close to an hour by now, the silence, the staring, the butterflies—
A slight shift in your position made you painfully aware of the wetness that had pooled between your thighs, and you wanted to crawl into a cave.
"Hey. You tired?"
Rafayel was searching your expression, reading you.
It wasn't helping.
"N-no," you managed to nearly choke out, your obvious fluster making your cheeks feel warmer.
And in all this time that you've known him, been with him—you knew that he could put two and two together.
A smirk spread over his features.
You were in for it.
"I'll allow some movement," he hummed, setting his brush down momentarily, "but it looks like you want something a little more... specific..."
"Rafayel, if you don't shut up—"
He grinned.
"Why? We can take a break, yeah? I'm just giving you free space to do as you want."
You watched his eyes rake over your figure, lingering over the way your legs were pressed more tightly together than you'd started with.
"Don't tell me you need me to guide you, princess..."
You wished you could slap that smile off his face.
Rafayel folded his arms, leaning back a little. The shine in his eyes didn't budge even a millimeter; his gaze remained steely on you.
"You know, if I didn't know any better, my muse, I'd say you've gotten a little needy."
You didn't know why you bothered to stay put in your seat, when the paintbrush was not even in his hands anymore.
And he noticed.
"Yeah? I'm right, aren't I?" he chuckled. "So why don't you release some of your stress before we continue? Since you're not getting up, you might as well do something for my motivation..."
The way he gestured towards the canvas, wearing that infuriating little smirk of his, had the heat rushing to your face.
"As if you could take watching me touch myself," you shot back, mirroring his pose and crossing your arms.
You cheered in silent victory at the momentary lapse in his expression, though it settled back into his smile within seconds.
"Mmn... Then we'll have to do something about that later, if it comes to it," he shrugged. "But this is about you, princess."
For a while there was no response from either of you, just staring silently at each other, daring one to make a move—
Until his gaze made you squirm, and he let out a snort.
"Oh, princess..." he started, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I'm not going to touch you when I still intend to get back to finishing this piece. So if you want to use our little break to do something about this... You'll have to do it yourself. Come on, now. Undress for me, yeah?"
He was infuriating.
A menace.
This was karma for all the times you've rendered him speechless, and he was enjoying it.
You clicked your tongue, the challenge in your eyes winning over the embarrassment that stirred in the pit of your stomach.
"Fine! Don't blame me if you'll never finish that painting..."
Frustrated though you might have been, and perhaps, ever determined to pay back his teasing, the look in his eyes remained bewitching.
It was foul play.
Your fingers trembled as you deftly pushed your panties to the side, your jeans kicked down to your ankles, your legs spread. Rafayel had seen you—used you—many times before... But there was something unnervingly intimate about doing this for him, when he was a number of laces away from you, watching, observing.
It was as if you were... a show.
"You're dripping," he commented, voice quiet and low, unable to keep himself from leaning forward as if to get a better look at you.
His words sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. You could only shoot him a glare, your blush betraying otherwise the effect that his heated gaze on you had.
"Go ahead, princess... I bet you're aching to be touched."
You almost didn't want to admit it, the way his voice played in your ear so sweetly that your heart could simply burst out of your chest. He made you weak, and you could barely think straight, and he could... see it all.
You chewed on your lip, shakily dipping a finger just barely into your heat, sliding up between your folds with a trail of obvious slick left in its wake.
"Shit..." you cursed under your breath.
You were almost scared to look back up at him, knowing you'd see those god-foresaken eyes again, so heated as they took in your every movement, your every action—
"That's it, princess," Rafayel murmured. "Play with yourself. Rub your clit for me, yeah?"
Your eyes closed as you found yourself doing exactly as you were told.
Soft pants fell from your lips, your middle finger drawing upwards to circle your sensitive nub. Just slow, gentle rubs, easing you into a rhythm of pleasure... You dared to open your eyes, catching the way his gaze remained fixated on your movements, his own eyes darkening, his lips parted slightly.
"You're so wet, baby..." His voice was hoarse now, clearly just as affected by the situation as you were. "Can you put a finger in? Please?"
Your features schooled into a small smile; victorious, in a way, despite your own obvious display of need. "But, why, Rafa?" you teased. "I don't wanna rush..."
The groan that he let out was delicious, and your eyes narrowed in satisfaction.
"C'mon, princess... I wanna see. Do it for me? Just one finger, yeah?"
"You're so easy to get all worked up, Rafa~" you found yourself cooing at him, taking note of his flushed cheeks, the heat in his eyes mirroring your own.You were the one touching yourself, and yet, he was the one begging. It was amusing, in a sense—how just the simplest things reduced him to this sort of mess.
"Just a little taste of your own medicine," you quipped.
But you did as he said, anyway.
The first push of a finger into your cunt had you moaning. The glide was easy, smooth, your walls accepting of your own intrusion, almost aching for even more.
"Fuck... that's it, baby, in and out, just like that."
It was almost amusing to hear him speak that way, so enraptured by the way you pleasured yourself, lost in the thought of you coming undone right in front of him. You didn't need his words of guidance; you knew exactly which spots had you keening, how to gradually bring yourself over the edge. Yet, he would still offer up words of such praise to you anyway, guiding you, telling you what to do, how to please yourself.
And there was something, just something, about the rawness in his voice that got to you.
Your eyes met as you began to buck your hips into your hand, sliding against the cushion, willing to give yourself more stimulation. Your breath fell out in puffs of quick pants, your heart rate accelerating, the pierce in his gaze so daunting and intimidating, yet so... arousing.
"R-Rafayel..."
Your eyes went hazy, unable to bring yourself to turn away from the hypnotic quality of his gaze.
"Keep going, princess, I'm here."
Your fingers moved faster, curling into your heat, emphasizing the obscene sounds of wetness that filled the studio. Your thumb moveed over to brush your clit, your other hand gripping the seat impossibly tighter, and then—
"R-Rafa!" You threw your head back, hips stuttering. "I-I'm close!"
In your peripheral vision you could see him lick his lips, his voice coming out hoarse, full of want. "Yeah? You are, huh? Come on, princess, just a little more. Work those fingers for me."
His words proved enough.
"Shit—fuck—!" A string of curses left your lips. You felt it as the pleasure rolled through your body, eliciting a gasp, causing you to nearly double over.
"There we go. Such a pretty little muse. That expression on your face is beautiful."
His words soothed you from your high, a gentle coo of praise as you took your fingers from out of your wetness. When you looked up at him, he was smiling, hand outstretched as if to beckon you. "C'mere, princess. You did so well for me, let me taste those pretty fingers of yours."
You almost clapped back at him, as if the urge to bicker—to one-up him—rose up just by instinct. Yet, there were those eyes again. That particular look that was magnetizing. It was more than a beckon. It felt like an allure. You were almost certain you'd moved on your own, slow steps into his arms, gently allowing yourself to be pulled onto his lap, the glisten from your earlier orgasm immediately coating the fabric of his pants.
He did as he promised, guiding your fingers into his mouth, looking straight at you with eyes full of lust. His tongue swirled over the pads of your fingers, and you twisted them for him. Watching him suck on your digits, slowly moving them in and out, promising him the taste he so desperately wanted... before you pulled them away with a wet pop.
"Give me one more," he whispered immediately, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "One more, before I finish this painting. Think you can do that?"
You'd nearly forgotten about the painting. It was behind you, your back turned towards it, your eyes only focused on the man before you. You didn't look back—didn't need to, not now. Not when his offer was so... tempting.
"'Kay," you mumbled. Your response was just as instant, your hips moving to glide over his thigh.
But he smirked.
A hand went to your back to support you, hold you in place, and your eyes widened when a clean, unused paintbrush found its way into his other hand.
"R- Rafayel...?"
"Just want to have a little bit of fun," he said breezily, gently trailing the brush from your jawline, all the way down over your collarbone. The sensation made you shiver. "Go on, princess. Don't mind me..."
Don't mind me.
He had the audacity to say that as he let you move all over his thigh, the bristles of his brush leaving a trail of goosebumps with every little stroke on your skin. Just light, feathery, teasing flicks, enough to add to your stimulation... It felt nice, and you'd never admit it to his face, but you could fold.
"You'd be so lovely to paint, look at you," he murmured. And he enjoyed the way your body jolted at his words, the chuckle enough of a testament. "Yeah? You like that idea, don't you, princess? Next time, maybe, I can have even more fun with you..."
The paintbrush began to venture lower, flicking against your nipples.
Your eyes went wide.
"W-wait—!" You gasped, gripping his shoulders, feeling him repeat the motions. Again, and again—the brush circled around your pert, sensitive nub, his gaze turning thoughtful, his little tool giving you more sensations than you knew were even possible.
"Hm? What's wrong?"
It acted like a soft caress, one so foreign to you that it made your head spin.
And he didn't dare stop there.
He must have gotten incredibly worked up, you thought, as he stilled your hips and leaned you back. You could guess where things were going; the way his hand supported your back from toppling into the canvas was firm and determined, your position already having your dripping cunt a little bit more on display for him.
"Look at me, princess," he whispered.
And you felt it—the paintbrush gliding lower and lower, gentle strokes over the skin of your abdomen, pausing just above your clit.
Your breath hitched.
Anticipation hung in the air, your eyes barely managing to stay locked onto his as your face seemed to fume with embarrassment.
"Rafayel," you huffed. "Seriously, you...!"
He circled the brush, a smirk tugging on his features. Feathery bristles brushed against you clit, and you let out a cry. There was a pattern, almost: he'd move the brush gently down the side of your folds, fluttering back up to your nub, pressing against it with a certain kind pressure he knew you always loved... Teasing, always teasing, never lingering for too long in a single spot.
It had you moaning almost immediately.
"What was that, my muse?" he grinned.
You'd never wanted to slap that expression off of his face any more than you did now, yet he had you helpless. You felt like putty in his hands, melting with every movement of his little brush, your thighs tensing over his. You didn't even need to move, anymore; the sensitivity from your previous orgasm had your senses heightening scarily quick, the coil steadily beginning to tighten in your stomach.
It felt as if he'd barely been doing anything.
Just that goddamned brush teasing you in all the right places, flicking against your clit, as he watched you clench around nothing.
"Please!" you swallowed your pride down deep enough to beg, the look in your eyes harboring a frustrated glare of want. "Stop teasing, Rafa, I need...!"
"Yeah? Need what, hm?"
Oh, he was having fun.
"N-need to cum! Need... Need something, Rafa, c'mon—!"
The brush set back aside, and he kissed you.
All tongue, even teeth, just messy, and deep, a pure display of the lust that had taken both of you hostage. His hands were in your hair, your body pressed so close against him, hips beginning to move again over his thigh. A few more soft, hushed, groans, and wet noises of passion, and you were gone.
You felt it snap, pulling back from the kiss only to fall forward onto his shoulder, muffling your moans into his shirt. It was insane, you thought, how he could rip out such a visceral reaction from you, a pleasure so overwhelming as you squeeze your legs over his thigh.
Easing you down, he rubbed soothing circles into your back, hushed words of praise tumbling from his lips.
Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment.
"My perfect little muse, so pretty, so beautiful," he sighed, hugging you close. "I can't wait to paint all your greedy desires onto my canvas."
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⁺₊ / an: phew!! overdue and i feel like this isn't my best best work, but it doesss represent the chokehold this fish has on me 🙄 a girl's just gotta satisfy her rafayel cravings i guess!!
© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.
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alottiegoingon · 3 days
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love letters
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shauna shipman x fem!reader
summary: the one where reader receives love letters from jeff
warnings: jeff mentioned for plot reasons, jealousy mentions, homoerotic friendship?, shauna is reader's best friend, no crash timeline, fluff but angsty ending, not proofread
this may have a part II in the future?
you thought it was weird when the first thing you saw as soon as you opened your locker was a letter. you weren't exactly the most popular girl ever but you weren't a loner. you were right in the middle.
you blinked rapidly, eyes darting back and forth to the envelope of the size of your hand and to the completely empty hallway. you were the only one in there. judging by the outside, it couldn't be a warning from school or from the book club you went to. it also didn't make sense to be someone bullying you, it was too neat.
you withdrew the paper nestled inside and carefully unfolded it. it wasnt anything professional, just words meticulously written on a notebook paper. you peer through narrowed eyes, attempting to recognize the handwriting but it wasn't like you knew everyone at school so intimately to know how they wrote.
in the small piece of paper, the words "you're always pretty but today you look as stunning and vibrant as a daisy in spring. love, jeff." are written in a sleek, rounded calligraphy, each letter carefully crafted with black pen ink. you feel your heart skip a beat as you read the name signed on the bottom, not believeing your own eyes. coincidentally or not, daisies were your favorite flowers and you couldn't stop thinking about how he knew that.
jeffrey sadecki was one of the popular boys in wiskayok high. almost every girl wanted to be with him while the boys wanted to be him. you weren't one of those girls, though. you despised how all of them would humiliate themselves and change their appearance or lie about their favorite movies or bands just to get attention from the boys. nothing too girly or the boys would laugh about it but nothing too bold or you wouldn't be delicate enough.
one detail caught your attention and brought you back to reality as you were overthinking a simple letter. the way jeff had signed his name was different from the rest of the words. more angular and noticeably larger. maybe he was in a hurry or too nervous, it didn't matter. the important thing now was to tell shauna, your best friend. you slammed the locker door and hid the letter on your pocket, rushing to the wiskayok high soccer field to let her know everything.
now, in terms of knowing someone closely, shauna was at the top of your list. shauna shipman was your best friend since you were in middle school as two twelve years old with awkward music taste, bad haircuts and an embarassing fashion sense. after school, you and shauna would spend hours locked inside your bedroom talking about your celebrity crushes, make fun of the boys after their unsuccessful try to make a move on the popular girl, and devouring an entire carton of bubblegum ice cream, that shauna would always bring to you, while watching movies. shauna wasn't a huge fan of it. it was way too sweet. but it was your favorite after all.
"i think you should pick the flavor next time." you randomly spoke while the two of you were sharing a bed and watching grease from 1978.
your leg was resting against shauna's, the back of your leg gently positioned on top of her knee. it first started as a way to annoy her when you were around fifteen but then it just became a casual thing. shauna would look all tense with a tight face until she felt your warmth.
"why? it's your favorite." shauna's entire face twists in confusion. her eyes immediately fly at you but you were focused on the small tv. inside her mind, in her own little world, nothing was more important than your sudden hate towards ice cream.
"it's too childish. i don't think any other girl on her last year would pick bubblegum ice cream as her favorite." you groan, frustrated.
"that's so stupid, it's just a flavor. and, you know, i think it matches you."
her words made you curious enough to shift your attention away from one of your favorite movies. she seemed to understand your fogginess and explained herself before you could say a word.
"i mean, it's fun and colorful and free of any judgments. it is also the favorite of a lot of kids and kids are way too honest to lie about something. so if they like it, it's because it's really good.. it's unique, i think."
"wow, shauna..." you subtly nod your head in agreement, feeling touched by her words. "you can really compliment an ice cream flavour that much? "you smile as you tease her.
"just shut up and eat your ice cream. you're so annoying."
now, in senior year, pretty much nothing had changed. you would still spend the afternoons after practice with shauna as well as the weekends. shauna was also really smart and would eventually help you with math, literature or english during finals. she was pretty good at it but it didn't surprise you at all; she was always carrying a book around or that super secret journal that you swore she would write on after you fell asleep during sleepovers.
"jeff? wow... are you sure?" shauna immediately looked away from you and made herself busy, forcing her uniform into her bag, at the second she heard his name. shauna wasn't exactly very fond of him as well but she never sounded so lifeless.
"yeah, he signed his name! i guess it could be one of his friends messing around with me but the handwriting is way too pretty for someone who did it as a joke." you sigh. "and he also mentioned a daisy in the letter. that's my favorite flower, shauna!"
shauna was avoiding your eyes at all costs but, for a split second, you saw her eyebrows knit.
"wait, so you're happy with that? i thought you didn't like him." shauna sounds unbothered but you notice how she rub her hands together to brush the sweat off or how she was incessantly adjusting her shirt.
"i don't. boys are stupid." you give her a determined nod to dispel the thought away. "it's just... it feels nice to know that someone cares about me. we've never had a conversation before but somehow he knows about my favorite flower so, i mean..." your voice trails off.
you never thought of yourself as someone who was excited to date boys. the idea of going out on a friday night with a guy never made you burst with joy. you'd rather spend the night with your best friend and have your typical sleepovers or going out for movies. even watching shauna write on her out of reach journal in silence was more interesting. despite shopping together when needed, playing around with clothes by putting them on and running a fashion show, dressing up for a boy and putting makeup on wasn't your thing, whatsoever. it wasn't fun cause shauna wouldn't be there to make you laugh or roll her eyes to hide how her eyes would affectionately get lost on your figure. "i guess he must be really interested on you, then. right?" shauna looks at you for the first time that afternoon but she looks different than usual, offering a strained smile.
[💌]
the next days slipped away from your hands in a blink of an eye. surprisingly, jeff wasn't actually that bad or at least he tried to be a normal nice guy around you.
you remembered how he was actually nervous when you two exchanged a few words and he made sure to let you know that he was responsible for the letter when he asked if you had liked it with a huge cocky smile. at first, you couldn't care less, he was trying too hard. but then the letters kept coming and you finally accepted to go on a date with him.
you went out for the movies and when you felt him pulling that classic move on you by sliding his arm on top of your shoulders, you had to fight against a giggle. shauna would love to laugh at that with you later. then, you stopped by your favorite place; a small family-run dinner that had a great milkshake of your favorite flavour.
"you don't think it's way too childish to be someone's favorite?" you hear jeff's voice fill your ears while you were focused on getting the last drop of the ice cream. you look up at him with a baffled look, not paying attention to whatever he had just said.
"the ice cream. i never dated someone who liked bubblegum."
"oh. yeah..." you feel heat rise to your cheeks and out of nowhere, you began to trip over your words. "it's not my favorite. it's stupid. i was... just trying something different!"
the days turned to weeks and the weeks became months. just like that, you were walking through the hallways of wiskayok high with jeff's arm over your shoulder. you weren't sure if you liked being seen as his property or something silly like that, but a lot of girls would die to be in your place.
you weren't sure if you actually liked him. the most excited part of your date nights was to eat for free and memorize all the idiotic things he had said to gossip about it with shauna later. besides, you could rarely pick the movie or talk about your day. the name "randy walsh" was stuck on your brain thanks to how often jeff would mention him and his funny stories that would actually make you sleepy.
but, again, maybe you just had to try harder.
the letters kept coming almost everyday. and if not everyday, then at least once a week. somehow, always pretty and perfectly rounded letters with his sloppy signed name on the bottom.
[💌]
"i can't wait to read it! people are saying that it's sad but i think it's gonna be great." you were telling shauna about the new stephen king's book that had came out that week; the green mile.
"i think sad is good. people underestimate how great tragedy can be." she casually mumbles, grabbing the carton of ice cream from your desk that you would share before walking to you.
you were about to agree with her when her words cut you at the moment her eyes met the packaging.
"what's that?" she said with a deflated tone.
"ice cream?" you chuckle at her obvious question. usually she would tease you back or give you a snort. but now she decided to ignore your lighthearted words.
"no, i mean the flavor. since when do you like vanilla?" she reads the words vanilla over and over again before looking up at you.
"oh, yeah. i changed. i'm too old for bubblegum now."
"how?"
"just eat it, alright? jeff said vanilla is too boring but i think it's better than being a kid flavor, right?" you giggle, oblivious to her clear annoyance.
shauna's hands close into fists as soon as she practically smashed the carton against the desk. the loud noise made you look at her almost instantly with widen eyes.
"are you okay?" your voice sounded so low-pitched and whispered that shauna almost couldn't hear it.
"are you? we used to laugh about stupid boys and now you are suddenly changing yourself because of jeff? he barely knows how to spell the world embarrass." you notice her voice slowly getting louder.
"this is insane. it's just ice cream, shauna! you are just jealous cause he writes pretty letters for me while you stay home to your pathetic journal." you feel your blood boil as she accuses you of changing because of a fucking boy. you would never.
shauna doesn't say a word and the silence made you realize that, deep down, she was right. her eyes are staring past your soul as she feels your words hit her and it made you regret them after a second.
"i didn't mean tha-" you tried to apologize but she was faster.
"no, you know what? you're right. i spend my friday nights with my pathetic journal but at least i don't pretend to be someone i'm not just to make a boy like me." she takes a step closer and this time her voice is low and tamed. "at least i'm not weak and don't attach myself to the first person who offers just a hint of interest on me cause i'm desperate for attention."
her sharp words sink in, eating you from the inside out. she doesn't seem sorry and you don't feel bad anymore. you feel your jaw clenching and tears were welling up on your eyes while you stand up from your bed, face to face with your best friend.
"fuck you." you struggled to speak through the lump in your throat.
the room got quiet and the sorrow was almost palpable. shauna's pupils were teary, fully dilated and unusually darker, regarded with disappointment. she didn't say a word before leaving your room and shutting the door behind her.
you couldn’t think of anything while collapsing into your bed, sobbing against the pillow, other than how badly you hated vanilla ice cream.
[💌]
barely able to sleep last night, you were distracted by shauna’s words and the fact that this was the first serious fight that you two had ever shared. shauna didn’t talk much about her feelings and would let everything merge together until she was bursting out with anger or a bunch of passive aggressive comments but she was never too harsh on you.
you knew you had to apologize and fix things with her. even though her words weren’t exactly the kindest, she was just worried about you, you thought. you wondered if she liked jeff in secret and was jealous of him even if she had never mentioned him before.
you weren’t sure if she had feelings for jeff but you weren’t sure if you did. he could be a jerk sometimes and definitely too self centered but he made you feel important. he liked you enough to know your favorite food, even though he called it childish, and your favorite movies, that he thought it were too weird for a girl, and your favorite books, that he mentioned how boring they were.
yes, he was decent and overall, compared to the others, he was a nice person. but then, as you were in the bathroom getting ready this morning, you remembered that he wasn’t the first person to ever care
you remembered when shauna showed up at your door once at 3am when you couldn’t sleep, way too worried about finals, with your favorite treats and a book of hers that reminded her of you. or when she spent an entire month learning how to draw daisies because you loved them and she wanted to give you a special handmade gift. a week later, your room was filled with drawings of different sizes of your favorite flower. there was even a small piece taped to the wall of your bathroom right next to the mirror.
then, it occurred to you that, once while watching romeo and juliet late at night, you mentioned how much you loved romantic gestures like receiving letters from the person you loved and shauna mocked you but then, two weeks later, you received one. it was a weird coincidence but it was there, right in front of your eyes.
you were feeling like complete shit when you stopped by your locker, already regretting leaving your bed this morning. you flinch as you see jeff magically appearing behind the small metal door with a huge creepy smile and a small bag in hands.
“i got something for you.” were the words he said before handing you the content from inside the paper bag. you weren’t expecting anything and definitely not after the shitty night you had. you were determined to break up with him but the idea of it vanished as you took a first glance at what your new gift was.
the new stephen king’s book, the green mile, right under your nose. your jaw was almost hitting the floor thanks to the beautiful cover.
“jeff… this is amazing! i’ve been wanting to read this since last week and i couldn’t find it anywhere. thank you!” you had to force your words out, too stunned to speak properly. looking away from the book, you saw how he looked genuinely happy with your reaction.
“it was nothing. i just like paying attention to my girl.” you ignored the smug tone and focused on the book.
jeff didn’t wait any longer for you to finish your appreciation moment and pulled in for a kiss, tightly holding onto your waist. he hugged you right after and while you were resting your head on his shoulder, he was looking at shauna right behind you two.
greeting her from a distance with a satisfied and arrogant grin was his way of saying thank you. shauna resentfully nodded and ignored the feeling of drowning in her own emotions as she watched you leave with his arm around your waist.
quickly, she placed the receipt from the bookstore in her backpack along with her notebook and favorite writing pen before disappearing into the crowded hallway.
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My central thesis has always been that the Harkles wanted everything the Wales have and more. I know I remember reading that she cried after hearing William was made Prince of Wales. Right from the get go, her PR was all "Meghan is way better suited to be royal". Then there were all the Commonwealth flowers on her bridal veil and their insistence that they move into Windsor Castle. Now I don't believe everthing Neil Sean says, but his latest video mentions that Megxit was an ultimatum to get Windsor. As that is the traditional home of the Monarch, I feel as though they were attempting a coup.
Then there is the thought that Harry believes that the Dutchy of Cornwall should be split and he should eventually be made co-King or King of the Commonwealth. Let the Wales have that tiny island while they are jetted and feted around the world.
Here's my question for you. Did Meghan and Sparry REALLY believe they could leapfrog over the Wales??? I know her jealousy and envy of Catherine is bunny boiler level and he absolutely eviscerated his brother in Waagh. Has this been their plan all along?? Death by a thousand cuts for the Wales to force them to resign their place in the LOS or that they could somehow convince Charles to make Harry the heir??
I'd like to know where you think the delusions stem from. It wouldn't be the first time in history that younger brother has attempted to remove old brother from the throne.
Sincerely appreciate your blog and all the work you put into it. I'm always learning something new.
I'm pretty sure that was exactly their plan: they wanted to use their popularity to force The Queen to name them as her successors. I don't remember where I read this or when, but allegedly Harry sent "documentation" to someone - to whom specifically I can't recall, but options are The Queen, Charles, William, and/or grey suits - providing evidence for claims that he and Meghan were more popular than any of the others and deserved more than what they were getting.
And if they couldn't get the actual crown, they were going to do their damnedest to try and get a co-kingship with William. That's where Meghan's obsession with the Commonwealth came from; she had been told (again, I don't know by whom - all signs point to Harry exaggerating to keep her interested or maybe Charles spitballing ideas during his 'Magnificent Six' planning circa 2012) that William would rule Britannia and Harry would rule the Commonwealth.
I think that's why Meghan went all in on 'racist Kate.' Not only did she want to knock Kate out of the spotlight, she wanted to do enough damage that Commonwealth/realm nations would threaten to quit and The Queen would capitulate by offering to install Harry and Meghan as new leaders. This actually had a chance of working; it's been said quite often during her last years and since her passing that The Queen saw the Commonwealth as her greatest legacy and there was speculation that she would have done anything she could have to keep it in tact. And had Meghan played her cards right, she and Harry probably could have ended up becoming the main ambassadors of and for the Commonwealth, like a Commonwealth version of the UN Secretary-General.
But where the plan failed, obviously, was that it required blaming Kate for problems and issues that don't exist. Because remember, in 2021 when Meghan was making these claims, we'd just gone through the huge global reckoning that was Black Lives Matter and the agreement during/after BLM was "call racist people out on their BS. Put them on blast. Don't let them get away with it anymore." So not only would Meghan have been perfectly justified to name names, cite events, bring receipits, air the real dirty laundry and everyone would've been so much more supportive of it. But she didn't. Instead she played coy and said something like "I'm protecting them even though they don't deserve it."
Girl, please. That was Meghan's one chance to go justifiably scorched earth and air out all the dirty laundry and she fumbled hard.
Anyway. Let's get this train back on track. Where do the delusions come from? Traumatic childhoods courtesy of Mommies Dearest.
We all know Harry's story with Diana. She was a young, fun, free spirited loving mom larger than life with a neediness that she depended on her children to fill, rather than her own husband or other adults her age, so Harry grew to find satisfaction in supporting and providing her what she needed. He probably saw, and understood, the way Diana received what she wanted by exaggerating what she needed and following it up with excluding or isolating herself until whoever came chasing after her to give her what she wanted. And ultimately this led her (and Harry) down a path that ended up killing her; she exaggerated the relationship with Dodi to get attention from Hasnat or the BRF, then isolated herself in France to force whoever (Hasnat? Charles Wales? Charles Spencer?) to come chase after her. We know how that ends.
That's where Harry's delusions, IMO, come from. He saw how it well it worked (mostly) for Diana - exaggerate her needs/wants, then run and hide until she gets it - so he does it too. He probably started doing it right after she died, when no one knew what to do or how to handle him so they kept indulging in everything he wanted, so those wants kept manifesting bigger and bigger. And I think the way we see the BRF treating Harry is what would have happened to Diana had she lived; eventually the public would sour on her (this was already happening, by the way), which would then enable the BRF to grey rock her, devenomizing her in effect, and move on without Diana having too much of an influence on their day-to-day.
It's sort of similar for Meghan. We don't know specifically what happened (the way we do with Harry and Diana), but we know that Doria was a young, fun, free-spirited mother herself married to an older husband who had other priorities (eg kids from his first marriage). Unlike Diana, Doria probably didn't want the responsibilities of motherhood (which is the vibe Meghan and Thomas have given about Doria during Meghan's childhood) and left. And like the BRF, Thomas may have also overcompensated Doria's absence in Meghan's life by giving her everything she asked for, which made her asks get bigger and bigger and when Thomas couldn't deliver, she threatened to leave him...like Doria did and Thomas, erstwhile girldad he was, just kept throwing more and more at Meghan to keep her happy. Her delusions come from preying on other individuals' trauma to ensure she gets what she wants. The bigger her wants (ie the more grandiose her delusions), the harder she manipulates other people's trauma to make sure she gets what she wants. Which is kinda the opposite of Harry and Diana; they create the trauma to get people to do what they want, whereas Meghan exploits it to get people to do what she wants. Both are skills they learned after being abandoned (metaphorically and literally) by their mothers.
And all of Meghan's PR about "young mother," I think it's more insidious than that. Yes, it's a very overt evocation of Diana's narrative. Yes, it's a judgement against Kate. But it is also digs at Doria. "See? Motherhood is hard but I'm prioritizing my kid. How dare you to have left me" kind of spiteful digs meant to shame her for whatever happened that caused her to disappear. Meghan is the kind of person who must always have the last word, so I wouldn't be surprised if she's been targeting or belitting Doria about not knowing certain things about Archie/Lili because she wasn't around when Meghan was that age.
So...yeah.
I've realized now that this is the third or fourth Wednesday in a row that I write these super long analytical/in this essay I will posts. I guess Wednesdays are my thinking days...
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rowretro · 23 hours
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Yandere!demon! heeseung x human! Reader( Please?)
TOOTHPASTE MOJITO
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✧warnings: Yandere/toxic themes, kidnapping, marriage, blood, violence, explicit stuff mentioned, somewhat sexual(?), alcohol consumption
❁synopsis: Heeseung, a demon of many demons that roams earth, bored. His eyes then land on y/n. The girl who was disgusted by her raspberry mojito, and proceeded to order more mojitos. That's when Y/n saw hell....
✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧
Heeseung smirked, his hands stained with blood, as he stared at the limp body before him. Another day another slay, demon edition. He literally slays them. Could you blame him? I mean what did the drunkard expect? trying to steal his wallet. He didn't stand a chance. Heeseung groaned as he went to his mansion, maids slipping off his coat and placing his shoes aside, as he walked in. The man's rich, anything he wants he gets, money, shoes, cars anything.
But he was missing one thing... a wife. Sure he'd sleep with some girls now and then when he's bored, but none of that satisfies his loving for love. True love, the kind of love one'd find in any movie, a shoulder to lie on, a person to turn to and feel comfortable. The man checked himself out in the mirror, a branded leather jacket worn over his black button down shirt, and trousers to match it. He slipped on a Rolex of the many he owned, followed by some jewellery.
The man walked into the party, fitting in as Jay threw an arm over him "Thought you'd never come, I assume you're here for the girls?" Jay asked as Heeseung snickerred "not this time- I got some time off of work so I decided to drop in... where's the bar?" He asked as Jay pointed it out. The man sat down at the stool, beside him, he could see the back of a girl, her dark hair somewhat covering her bare back, she was dressed is a shimmering, short black dress.
So far she seemed like a hottie to him. "Ack- disgusting... It tastes like grass-" she complained turning around to the bartender. Heeseung got a the full view of her face. Fuck was she beautiful. Her eye makeup really did suit her, purple glitter reflecting blue, lips so plump and kissable, her nose slightly big, but really added a stunning touch to her pretty face. "Can I get a mojito with Ice... make it really minty" she said as Heeseung frowned at her.
As the bartender walked off to prepare her drink, Heeseung turned to face her "Minty mojito?... that'd taste like toothpaste in alcohol- its already minty as is why ad more?" He questioned as she giggled "Toothpaste mojito.... not a mint lover huh?" she asked then she froze "Wow... Jay knows so many attractive men but damn." she added quite boldly. "He seems to know very pretty girls... none as pretty as you though, can't believe he gatekept you from me... Heeseung." He introduced himself. "Y/n.... " she said with a smile
If only she knew there and then that he's a goddamn demon. Literally. She thought she was just drunk, one second she was at the party, the next in a luxorious bedroom with a fine man. That morning she realized, the man did the impossible, he literally teleported her. She saw him really murder a man. She looked under the blanket. No sign of pain, hickeys or anything, she smelled nice, dressed in a man's jumper, presumably Heeseungs.
Oh how stupid she felt. Thinking it'd be easy to sneak out of a demon's home without being caught. Acting cool, walking out as the guards assumed she was just some slut he slept with. "Where do you think you're going sweetheart?" he asked, her back against the wall, as his body trapped her. "uh... home? I need to feed my bunny" she excused as he just laughed.
"Oh baby how drunk were you?... you ARE home... and I fed your bunny see? *he said with a smirk pointing at the little white rabbit that rested comfortably in a more spacious cage". It was too much to process. did she move in with him? did something happen? are they in a relationship? "yes, I guess, and Yes.." he answerred without missing a beat, red eyes staring into hers. "Did I say that out loud?..." she asked as he smirked.
"As you can see darling, I'm a demon, I know everything you think about. When I first laid my eyes on you... thought I'd just let you stay in my bed one night.... then you talked to me and fuck." He groaned, holding her heart at his chest "feel that?! Im in fucking love with you baby, I fucking wanted you... no I fucking needed you. so here you are." He said with a smirk "You're crazy. Im not into you Heeseung. You can't just kidnap me, and my bunny and say im you're in love with me. Im leaving." She claimed confidentally
"That's where you're wrong. You're mine, you're not going anywhere and you won't need to, everything you need is in this mansion. If I want something sweetie.. I get it. How about you think twice before your decision, sure you wouldn't want to anger a demon... I KNOW you're smarter than that." He simply said. He's right. Only an idiot would do such a thing, she really had no choice... She was in hell and there's no going back....
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(so sorry to all my readers, Ill try work on the series's too, yes my blog is wet now- its no longer a dry desert)
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castiwls · 2 days
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willow - s.w
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Paring; sam x reader
Prompt; 'I'm begging for you to take my hand. Wreck my plans, that's my man'
Requested; anon
Notes;tysm for the request <3 the yellow lights mentioned are like the one in the video (anon requested!)
Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist
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Sam Winchester was a relatively new addition to your life. It had barely been a month since he and his brother had waltzed right into your life and seemingly derailed it from the almost perfect track it had been on.
In that time you’d found yourself falling fast and hard for the younger of the two. Falling in love was something which seemingly came easy to you, free falling into a relationship was something which gave you a thrill like no other yet this was different. Falling this time didn't mean simply moving your toothbrush into a new bathroom a few streets down, no falling this time was life-altering almost.
But you were more than willing. The idea excited you almost. Getting to experience a whole new world while being around someone who made butterflies swarm in your stomach was something which you only saw in novels you’d read as a teen. 
You were under no illusion that hunting was an easy life, both Sam and Dean had been very straight with what you were walking into, especially with them but you were willing. And being here now made the hell that was slowly becoming your reality seem to melt away and become nothing but an afterthought.
The small streets of the town were bustling with people as the two of you slowly weaved your way through. You noticed every so often the way Sam would glance back making sure you were still behind him before quickly turning back whenever you met his gaze. The simple act sent butterflies swarming in your stomach and made you even more curious as to why he had dragged you from your bed at midnight.
Sam would never admit it out loud but you weren’t the only one who’d seemingly fallen hard and fast. The thought of a relationship had never even crossed his mind until you’d appeared in his life and suddenly it was all he could think of. 
His life was less than ordinary and part of him had begun to believe that the obstacles that constantly between him and love were simply a sign from above that maybe he wasn’t meant to find a connection like that. But then he’d met you.
“Just up here.” Sam pointed to a small hill not far from where you were both currently standing. You nodded sending him a small smile. As you both continued to walk the crowd of people only seemed to grow larger and larger causing you to reach for his hand on instinct.
He didn’t say anything as he reassuringly squeezed your hand navigating you both through the crowd until they slowly began to disperse the closer and closer you got to the clearing. “Why did you want to come here again?” You asked taking a seat on the grass in front of a large tree. 
Sam quickly sat beside you leaning back against the trunk a smile growing on his face as he watched the sky. “I read about a festive they do here around this time of year.” A small glint of excitement appeared in his eyes as he turned his attention to you. “Just watch.” He nodded forward.
“Alright.” You sat forward curious as to what he could have possibly read about. You’d only been in this town for a day and so far you’d seen nothing of a festival, yet the crowds you’d seen said differently.
A comfortable silence fell over you both after a moment. After a moment something in the distance began to glitter against the dark sky. The small yellow light stood alone for a moment, slowly rising into the sky before another light joined it. 
A small gasp left your lips as what seemed like hundreds of other yellow lights began to dot the skies over the town. “It’s beautiful.” You turned to him in awe before quickly turning back to watch as the lights drifted across the sky.
Sam smiled his heart fluttering slightly at the look of pure awe etched on your face as you continued to watch the small lights pass by. After a few more moments he felt you relax onto the trunk beside him, your gaze still locked on the sky which was now full of small yellow lights.
Slowly he moved his arm around you, he felt his breath almost stop in his chest as your head dropped to his shoulder with a small contented sigh. At the movement, he felt himself relax as he turned his attention from the sky to you.
The lights were dazzling but he was much more infatuated with the sight in his arms.
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stromuprisahat · 2 days
Text
"I didn’t know whether to laugh or scream."
Siege and Storm- Chapter 15
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Oh nein! Mal has issues! With consequences of his actions he should be grateful for, and his girl not sharing every waking thought with him, when her worst worries spring from his most hated topics- the Darkling and her role in politics.
And Alina once again feels responsible for his feelings.
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Yeah, this would have a bit more weight, if Alina didn't do it only for appearances' sake. Or if she granted the position due to merit, not random pick of what she views as the lowest low. Or if she didn't continue speaking as if she were a narrator of wildlife documentary, describing a new species of animal that just appeared.
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Not necessarily, but it's one of Alina's less far-fetched deductions.
Aleksander could've been aware of David's fascination with Morozova's work. He could've picked the most skilled in bonework or the one most experienced in forging amplifiers- they're supposed to be rare, so not many Fabricators will have that.
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*mumbles* And somehow we're to believe this pragmatic man chose to follow Alina, because... ? She's the good one, or whatever?!
*chants* Double agent Kaminsky, double agent Kaminsky!
Alina: Why would you want to kill this man! How horrible! At least question him first!
She would make a delightful morally flexible character, if she were acknowledged as such, and embracing that quality.
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Says who? Zoya?
He KeEpS mE So BuSy!
Saints, Alina, you can't believe everything people say about themselves!
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Alina: I'm not sure my three months of training are enough, but I can do like two things with my powers, so let's focus on increasing them further AND on the mythical forbidden art that created my goal no. 1 in the first place. I bet nothing can go wrong...
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Only signing? Not reading to get into picture? And who prepares them?!
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Bureaucracy, baby!
Welcome to responsibility!
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I would sympathize with Alina much more, if she showed genuine interest in those she doesn't know. If her motivation weren't merely "Do the opposite of (what I think) the Darkling did". I she truly believed in her own philosophy.
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Shocking!
People forced to sit next to half-strangers they're not used to interact with, create unpleasant atmosphere!
My work experience considered- you're lucky there's no visible enmity- you could've made the wrong people sit next to each other and tableware could've ended up in wrong bodyparts.
Also: How is Nadia sitting next to Marie? I thought breaking up already existing friend groups was a point of this whole exercise.
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They're not gifts, Nikolai. They're just your father's property, but let's remember the Darkling didn't wait for the Queen to request a specific one's service, and turned it into a gesture of his own thoughtfulness. Fuck his strategems!
Alina's misplaced sensibilities are incredibly frustrating.
She wants to lead Second Army, but not order them, not assign them tasks directly, because that would somehow make her a bad person, instead of efficient leader.
What if no one will volunteer? What if weak, incompetent Squallers will? You don't look at special assignment and think- Yeah, whoever wants to do it... You PICK the most capable person with both sufficient skills AND suitable personality.
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Awwww!
Poor granny deserves an Oscar!
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asarajaa · 22 hours
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Me encanta los colores de tu blog!!
Do you have any head canons for Bachira?
How he would react to falling in love with someone? :)
I hope you are doing well!
Omg mil gracias! Me pasé como 2 días buscando el aesthetic correcto, en un principio iba a ser coquette pero cambie de idea en último momento jajsjsja
Said and done, my love! Hope you like it <3!
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Warnings: fem!reader, spanish lyrics, bllk fem!manager Words: 565
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Bachira falling in love hcs
₊˚ෆ We have to be realistic, this man wouldn't notice.
₊˚ෆ I believe Bachira hasn't any experience with the female genre except his mom, so he think of you as just a friend.
₊˚ෆ At first he didn't know how to 'name' you, because it felt different being your friend compared to being Isagis, but he thought it was because you were girl.
₊˚ෆ It isn't until Chigiri pointed out your treatment to each other. How you always give him first water or anything he needs, how his eyes look for your presence when he enters any room and so on.
₊˚ෆ Then is when he started to notice.
₊˚ෆ Bachira is confused af, so before making any move (or making another one, apparently) he waited until break and ask advice from his mama.
₊˚ෆ How can you blame him? You were such a really nice friend (?) and he didn't wanna mess things up.
₊˚ෆ When his mama tells him about the feeling in his stomach (know he knows they're called butterflies), the heart beating faster and more signs, he agreed with the idea of being in love with you.
₊˚ෆ "How to make my crush like me back".
₊˚ෆ MY POOR BOY DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO 😭😭😭
₊˚ෆ After some advice (from his mama ofc), he decided let the things flow. Again, I believe Bachira is very cautious with this thing and doesn't wanna mess thing up (plus i'll be awkard if he does bc you guys will see eachother everyday for a long time, he doesn't want that).
₊˚ෆ His mamas advice help him, but he's still confused. Like, does he really fall in love? He doesn't know the answer to that.
₊˚ෆ You, on the other hand, were 100% sure you were in love with him.
₊˚ෆ Until on day, the day. It was during the break, you were hanging out with the boys when all of a sudden it started raining.
You were alone with Bachira, in the middle of the way back to the arcade. All of you were hungry and since the arcades food wasn't cheap, you guys decided to go to a convenient store.
All of you put your names on a roulette you find on the internet to decide the 2 persons who had to went, and omg- Bachira and you? How unexpected.
However, it started raining and you were with Bachira. Bachira, as the gentleman he is, offered to carry all of the bags ( because mama didn't raise no ungentleman boy ✋🏽).
And your first thought wasn't to put on the hood you had, or going to a covered place- no.
Your first thought was to touch your fingertips making a little house and cover Bachiras head.
Of course, it barely worked.
But the effort.
The effort. Because you were shorter than him, you have to tiptoe so his face was pretty close to yours.
The effort. Because you were getting your hair wet, which made it stick to your cheeks while his face was almost all dry.
The effort. Because you put his needings before yours (and he'll be damned if he didn't do the same).
At that moment, with your face millimeters away from him, he could only had one thing in his mind:
Mama will like her.
₊˚ෆ "Ya encontré, la que será mi futura esposa" was his only though at that moment apart from the fact that his mother would like you AND U CAN'T CHANGE MY MIND 😻✋🏽
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₊˚ෆ For those who not know spanish, that is a line from a very popular song here in Spain. It's called "Mi Estrella Blanca", the line appears in the 1:45 minute. It means "I have already found the one who will be my future wife" and the song means "My White Star", it's a very beautiful song, go listen to it!!!
I LOVED how this turned on, I think I'll be making content inpired by lyrics from now on, tell me your opn!!
idk if you guys understant what y/n was doing with her hands?? here's a picture:
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WHJBDJHD SRRY IT'S THE ONLY ONE THAT MATCHES. Imagine it like that but the thumbs are w/ the rest of the fingers.
PODER BESAARLA, CADA MAÑAANA. MIRAR PAL LADO Y VERLA TUMBADA EN MI CAAMA. SERÁ MI NOOCHE, SERÁ MI DÍAAAAAA. MI ESTRELA BLANCAAA
btw I finished 4 today, my abdomen hurts a little bit from sitting for a long time, lovya'll 💗💗💗
3 post in a day wow
26/04/24
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© asarajaa — Please, do not copy, translate or reuse my work without my permission.
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I've let this wolf into my home (I feed it even when it bites)
Blood nose and a crooked tongue (I always wanted to be someone) - series masterlist here
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pairing: tim drake x reader (gender neutral)
length: 1.5k
genre: fluff ??
warnings: you don't know red robin and timmy are the same person but he sure knows you, he's also so so awkward but he can't help it
a/n: alright alright alright here we go <3
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The jingle of the coffee shop door opening startles you, your head snapping up from where you're sitting, slouched over in the corner. It's a 24-hour shop, yes, but who else would really be here at 3am? The barista behind the counter looks just as surprised, blinking rapidly and looking at the person who came in.
You, on the other hand, opt not to, sighing and looking back down at your table, instead. The coffee in your to-go cup is still hot, burning your fingers as you shift them over the label. It's bright, a cartoonish sort of thing that grins up at you like an old friend you should be happier to see. You've been getting this coffee for years. You're never quite as happy as you should be.
The chair opposite you makes a horrible sort of sound as it's pulled out and you look up to see who's sitting across from you. You purse your lips in annoyance while he just looks at you.
"All the other tables have just been cleaned. They're wet," he points out. You let your eyes flit around the cafe, the tabletops shining wetly in the dull glow of the lights, the disinfectant bottle still sitting abandoned on one of them.
"Lucky me," you bite back, taking a sip of your coffee. It's sweet - too sweet, but not enough to cover the bitterness of the burnt grounds. You always think that if you pile enough sugar into it, it'll mask what's wrong. You're never right.
The man sitting opposite you takes a sip of his own - he left it black, you notice. He grimaces slightly at the taste, but keeps drinking anyway. There's no effort there to pretend it's anything other than what it is - burnt, cheap coffee sold to him in a cafe full of ghosts, in a city that should be sleeping but never really does. It's interesting, you think, as you look out the window and into the dark street. You'd almost managed to convince yourself that you were really alone - that there was no one else in this world except you, until he walked in and broke the reverie of your 3am silence.
For what it's worth, Tim regretted it as soon as he'd walked in. He hadn't meant to stay, really - ending up in a part of Gotham he didn't often find himself in, in his civvies and in desperate need of a hot cup of coffee and a long sleep, he'd stumbled across the flickering, neon sign of a 24-hour coffee shop.
What good luck, he'd thought. Now, sitting across from you, there's a desperate little part of him that thinks maybe it wasn't just that - maybe it was intuition that drew him here. You don't know who he is, of course, all your previous meetings happening in the shadows of your home with his face hidden from you. Tim shifts in his seat, suddenly aware of how naked he feels, exposed to your wandering eyes. 
And you do let your eyes wander, narrowing them suspiciously as you take him in. Tim feels a pang of guilt that surprises him when he thinks that this is probably how you've always felt with him - like a lamb with a wolf at your door. As you lean back in your chair, swirling your coffee and letting your gaze trail away from him and towards the window, he feels his shoulders drop in relief. He's not the only wolf in your living room late at night, he realizes. You've got teeth of your own that he'd just never noticed.
You're good at this, Tim thinks with a start - you've got a foot propped up on the window sill next to you, your head resting in your hand as you watch the street outside idly. Or, at least, it's supposed to look like that. He thinks that if he were anyone normal, he would believe it. But Tim has spent enough time as prey to know when someone's pretending to let their guard down.
He looks away from you almost forcefully, staring down at his cup and running his tongue over his teeth as he thinks of the burnt taste of it. He wonders if you were smart enough to put sugar in yours - wise enough to bury the bitterness with something nicer. It's something he always thinks he should do. He can never quite make himself. 
"I'm sure those other tables are dry now." Your voice makes him flinch, a hard, forceful thing that cuts through the silence of the night that's blanketed the two of you. Tim looks around at the dull, streaky tabletops and shrugs. 
"I'm already comfortable here," he offers. You cock your head to the side and look at him, but make no move to fight him on it. He thinks it's probably stupid of him, inviting a lion into his home like this. He wonders if you feel the same way every time he slides in through your balcony door.
There's a silence that, once more, overtakes the two of you as he shifts in his seat. Tim wonders if he should drink faster, if he should pretend to be finished so that he can leave. It's funny, he thinks, how he finally felt like he'd stopped running away when he started running into you. It's funny that, now, he's itching for it, his hands gripping his cup in an attempt to still his heart - his need to escape.
You look back at him just in time to see him squeeze a little too hard, the cheap plastic lid popping off and hot coffee sloshing a bit over his hands. A mild, bemused sort of look crosses your face as you watch him curse and splutter as the coffee burns his hands and spills onto the table. Then, without a word, you stand up and begin to walk away.
Tim, in the meantime, is rubbing his hands against his jeans, his eyes squeezed shut in mortification as he wonders how he ruined it all so quickly. Not for the first time, he wishes he was in the mask - thinks maybe the only way to hold onto you is to make sure that's all you ever see. But then your cup scrapes across the table and he opens his eyes to see you sitting opposite him again, sipping idly and watching. There's a stack of napkins that he swore wasn't there before and - oh.
"Thanks," is all he can make himself say as he grabs them, cleaning up the mess he's made. As he goes to pop the lid back onto his cup, he looks at the dark liquid inside and grimaces, deciding that maybe it's not worth it.
"It's shit coffee," you say, and he slams his hand against the table, crushing the plastic lid in the process. Truly, he's not sure if he's ever acted this nervous before. You pay it no mind. He thinks maybe he could take off his mask, just this once, and reaches up to his face in time to remember that he's already exposed to you. "You're better off finding something else… or just going somewhere else." Tim smiles, then, a charming sort of thing that has you narrowing your eyes.
"I dunno,' he says. "There's something I like about right here." You glance down at your own cup, at the label that you've picked and peeled off until it's unrecognizable, the colours torn and cracked.
"There's nothing good about right here. And things like that don't change." Tim looks at you for a long moment after you speak, letting the words tumble around his head before he stands, taking his cup and squished lid and pile of wet napkins with him. 
"Well, I've never been big on change, anyway," is all he says as he walks away, dumping everything in the bin and letting the bell on the door jingle as he walks out. Looking back down to the table, you notice the card he's left behind - the Wayne Ent. logo flashing behind his name. Flipping it over, his number's been written in a hasty scrawl.
As you thumb a corner of the card, you wonder when he'd slipped it onto the table - when he'd written on it. Mostly, you wonder what kind of person he'd have to be to do it without you noticing. You trace the numbers with your finger and think that something, far in the back of your mind, is telling you that there's a familiarity about it all. 
But what's familiar about seeing someone in a place where you never should? What's normal about that man, appearing like a ghost in the night and disappearing just as fast? As you pull out your phone to add his number to your contacts, there's a part of you that thinks maybe you should run away - that maybe you're not the only thing stalking the streets of Gotham this late.
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aleksa-sims · 3 days
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RL Story
CW: Divorce, addiction
It was a Friday, October 13th to be exact. Daniel and I are getting a divorce today. After weeks, he finally signed the divorce papers. I was devastated. It was so hard for me to take this step. But I had to finish it, for my Baby and also for myself, to finally forget Daniel. We met near the city hall, where we had an appointment with a divorce-case officer and judge.
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Once there, I saw Daniel coming towards me. I honestly didn’t want to divorce him. I loved him, still, so much. 😥But... that's just the way life is. 😞... He looked at me... I wanted to hug him but instead I just said sadly, hi. Daniel seemed absent for a moment, staring at my belly. 🩵👶
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He had this... empty look. Not sad or angry, rather.... emotionless.
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With my eyes lowered, I just stood there. I struggled to hold back my tears. Exactly a year ago we moved together. I was so happy with him and now this. 😞
Me: I'm so sorry. I never wanted this! And I still don’t want it. I wish we could just go home together.
Daniel: Same, but...let's not get into that now. Relax and think about your Baby.
Me: What?
Daniel: It's gonna be okay. Trust me.... C'mon, let’s get this over with.
Me: Yea,,...whatever you say. 😞
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Um.... well! Daniel and I didn’t get divorced today. The judge asked us why we wanted to divorce? D.'s & my statements left some question marks with the judge, I think? We have to wait six months, before we get divorced.... Daniel said that my jealousy (Tina, Irma...) & insecurity were the biggest probs for him in our relationship.😠... However, the real reason for postponing our divorce was bcs Daniel inherited Dominick’s plot & house. (division of property) Although I refused any claim to Daniel’s property!!
Me: Did you really, seriously mean what you said to them?
Daniel: I answered all questions honestly.
Me: Why didn’t you just give the real reason for our divorce? You took off!!! I didn't know where you were!! And my Baby isn't yours. This fact is the reason for our divorce! You can't handle that I'm pregnant. Or that we are both addicts, which would have been a good reason why we can’t stay together! 🤦‍♀️
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Daniel: The juge asked me WHY, I left! You got it?.... You and my borther, your secrets drove me crazy. That fucking shit about Tina. I was overwhelmed with my shit, our drugs you and your delusions. I kept trying to make you happy! I only loved you and I only wanted you. But you just didn’t believe me. Be honest, it wasn’t my fault, just yours!! You don’t know what you want! And you can’t make decisions! But I’m not like N.! I don’t want to tell you what to do or how to live your life. You are responsible for yourself! Finally get it, or just stay with your soccer player and let him control you.
Me: What kind of shit are you talking?? Nico doesn’t do any of this to me.
Daniel: I talked to him! He said, you won’t be the same after he’s done with you. He told me this to my face!! And btw, I can’t stand Alex calling you Lexi!! 😠
Me: You must have misunderstood N. He isn't like that! He was just upset, bcs I confessed what I wanted from you the other day. Besides, you’re jealous too!!! Anyway.... I-.. I just can’t stand it around you anymore. And I’m sorry I was so jealous. I loved you so much. I wanted to do anything for you. I was terrified to lose you. I’m sorry. Sorry I was such a freak to you. But I didn’t do anything wrong with your brother, D.!! There was NOTHING between Alex and me!! IDK how many times I’ve had to say this damn sentence. Finally get it!....
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Me: It hurts so much and it just doesn’t stop.... I don’t want to love you anymore. I wish you’d never married me. 😢
Daniel: Damn, I-... I'm sorry. I still struggle with that... stress disorder. Either I feel nothing-... or I boil with rage.🤦‍♂️
Me: It's ok.. I'm leaving.... See you in 6 moths. And.. stay off drugs, just... take care, Daniel. 😢
Daniel: Wait!
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Me: I gotta go. Sorry. Bye!.... 😭
Daniel: I-...... love you.
I just wanted to get away from there. Far away from.... him.💔 Not really, but.... agh, you know what I mean. And I’ll see Daniel again sooner than I thought. Right after delivery. It was about that annoying name change. D. and I were officially still married, but I didn't want to give my Son his surname. D. is not his Dad, but N. Such a mess!!
Previous/Next
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storiesbyjes2g · 2 days
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3.112 Cutting ties
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Love Day came upon us again, and it was so nice to have someone to celebrate with. Someone to celebrate, period. Sophia and I rarely did things traditionally, and I continued that trend by asking her out on a breakfast date. I suggested Vivianna's because it was the first place that came to mind, and I really liked their food. But Sophia was in goofball mode and said I wanted to see my girlfriend. I didn't like her saying that, but I loved seeing her in high spirits in those days, so I let it ride. When we got there, the host seated us at the same table from last time, and that sent her even more.
"It's a sign, Luca! If she's our server again, it's means you were meant to be."
I shook my head at her.
"You are way too high on life right now."
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She gasped, still giggling at her silly joke.
"Luca! She's here! I think she's coming this way!"
I was still shaking my head when Yasmine walked up.
"Happy Love Day," she said drily. "Y'all don't have restaurants in Oasis Springs?"
"Of course we do," Sophia said before I had a chance to even think of a response. "But we love this one."
"Hmph. You must really love this food. I wouldn't unfriend someone and still show up at their job. Are you ready to order?"
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Sophia looked at me in surprise but also trying to hide more giggles.
"Uhh...yeah, we're ready," I said, unsure if I should even respond to the first part.
When I finally looked at her, I saw her face matched her dry tone. Generally, she wasn't the cheeriest sim, but something was off. Granted, I was probably the last sim she wanted to see, but she should have been over that. Something else had to be going on, and I asked if she was okay.
"What do you care? I can't do this right now. I'll send someone else."
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She hurried away into the kitchen, leaving us utterly confused.
"What in the world was that?" Sophia asked. "And you unfriended her?"
"Yeah! She's been sending me mean messages ever since-"
"You broke up?"
"Would you stop with that?? She wasn't my girlfriend!"
I couldn't understand why she found this situation so amusing. It annoyed me, but her laughter was so contagious. I couldn't help but laugh, too.
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"Did she look different to you?" I asked.
"Sure did. I think she's pregnant."
"Pregnant? Yasmine? No way."
"She's definitely pregnant, babe."
"How do you know? She's not showing."
"Women know these things!"
"Hmph. Some sims don't need to be parents," I said under my breath. At least I thought I did.
"Luca!"
"What? It's true. She doesn't want kids right now. And she's mean...self-absorbed... Can you imagine her raising children?"
"I mean...I don't disagree, but... It's still not a nice thing to say. Maybe taking care of someone else will be good for her."
Nice or not, I meant every word. It was hard not to get upset about it. Sims all around us kept popping up pregnant unexpectedly while Sophia and I woohoo'd each other's brains out to no avail. WE want a baby! Why won't it happen for us? It wasn't fair. But I didn't want to ruin our date with my petty, jealous thoughts. That rant would have to remain in my head.
"Anyway... You excited about moving tomorrow?"
"You know it! I can hardly believe it."
"Yeah, seriously. I've been thinking about that house for so long... I have to keep reminding myself this is real life."
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My Social Bunny chime went off, so I checked to see who sent me a message.
"Oh...it's Maira."
"Why do you say it like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like you're surprised your friend is messaging you."
"I'm not surprised. It's just...I don't know. Every time I hear from her, I feel bad."
"How come?"
"Because I'm such a bad friend to her."
Sophia's lip quivered.
"I highly doubt that."
"It's true though! I never call her. She's always the one reaching out. Even back in the day it was like that. When I was open to dating her-well, she says we did date, but whatever. I got mixed signals, so I kinda stopped putting energy into our friendship. Then I met Yasmine-"
"While you were talking to me," she said sarcastically.
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Like a light switch flicking on, I understood why she continued to joke about me and Yasmine. She still felt some kind of way about realizing she wasn't the only one I was talking to, and this was her brand of petty behavior. I shook my head because I knew she would never let that go, and the jokes were a permanent part of our marriage.
"Yes, I was talking to you. I met Yasmine and Chi Chi-"
"I thought you didn't date her."
"I didn't. She came to my classes a lot and invited me to her house a few times."
She eyed me suspiciously, but I continued my story.
"Dating, having female friends, and all of that was new to me. I didn't know how to say no to her. I couldn't say no to her; you know how she is. And I was talking to you on top of dealing with my own issues... It was a crazy time, and I didn't know how to handle it all, so I ended up neglecting Maira. I feel bad because it wasn't like that in the beginning."
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"You didn't have any distractions then."
"Yeah...that's true."
"Do you think it's time to let her go? Everyone's not meant to be in your life forever."
"I know. That might be part of the issue. I want to be a good friend while being respectful to you, but I honestly don't know how she fits into my life anymore. But severing the relationship? I don't think I want to do that. At least not yet."
"Okay." She turned back to her food and took a few bites before a very obvious idea let up her face. "Since we're moving now, we should do a combo celebration! We can turn my birthday party into a housewarming party! Invite her to that."
"Oooh good thinking! You know I married you for your brains."
"Ah ha! The truth comes out."
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just-jordie-things · 3 days
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Ohhh I cannot handle jealous toge seeing you first and starting rumors about you because yuuta is crushing too hard and he’s jealous
Imagine the rumors getting back to reader and them confronting Toge 🫣
oooohehehehehe based on this brainrot blurb ___
confronting toge because you're just so hurt that he'd start such a rumor- you were only trying to make friends after all, and yuuta seemed nice enough. so what was the issue? why did he feel the need to keep yuuta away from you?
you've got your hands on your hips when you ask him about it, a clear sign of your annoyance, but your expression is anything but. in fact... you just look hurt. and now toge feels like an asshole (and lets be honest he is the asshole here) because he never intended to hurt your feelings.. he just didn't want to watch you fall for someone else. especially his best friend.
he apologizes the few ways he knows how- in notes, and by affectionately squeezing your hand. you only struggle a little to understand what he's trying to tell you, but you do believe his apology is sincere.
but when you ask him why he felt the need to come up with such an outlandish lie- he's frozen. he has no way of explaining it to you. his lips are sealed, his face is warming up with color, and he's trying his hardest not to look directly at you.
you'll think he's a crazy idiot if he tells you the truth! there's no way you'd forgive him as easily. he might as well just accept what he can get and move on. (not to mention, he'll still have yuuta to deal with after all of this)
you stand there and watch him struggle like a fish out of water. why's he so nervous? why is he blowing it off? why isn't he looking at you? why is he blushing-?
oh.
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KANAN NNNOOOOOO!!!!
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sherlock-is-ace · 2 months
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the imposter syndrome i feel every time i even slightly think i might be autistic is insane, specially for a person who highly relates to the lived experiences of people who are professionally diagnosed.
Like I was just watching this one youtuber, and she was talking about very specific examples in her life and childhood where she saw autistic traits that made her realize she was autistic and then seek a diagnosis and then get one, and everything she was saying was like she was describing my life! But yeah no, I can't be autistic tho
#and one thing that has been filling me with dread (as if it was relevant lol) is the idea of seeking a diagnosis and#either not geting it because it's already so hard to find a diagnosis for '''''''women''''''' (afabs)#and that will make me doubt myself even more! but most importantly those around me who already don't believe me#but also i'm very scared about this one thing in particular which is the talking to your parents portion of the diagnosis#where the therapist will want to talk to people who knew me as a child... and that person will have to be my mom#and i'm pretty sure she will dismiss most signs. like she would either not bring them up because ''they're normal''#or play them as less important than they were#or maybe she didn't even notice them! because most of my struggles are internal!#things like being bullied or having no friends or liking a routine#idk if she'll be able to talk about all those#because my bullying wasn't violent it was mostly dismissive#my ''friends'' weren't really friends like i didn't CARE for them as maybe someone would have#and also they would leave me for no reason at all out of the blue... so i don't think even THEY considered ME a friend#and liking routine i guess she could say i prefered it but she doesn't know to the extent i hated going off it#i'm sure she forgot about the time i cried (as a 10 year old so not THAT young) because they made us change classroom#and i didn't know that was gonna happen... it was added to the anxiety that i thought my mother wouldn't be able to find me#but like the unknown classroom traumatized me (to this day i get anxious just thinking about that)#like... all those things i don't think she would bring up (if she could even) and i fear that will make me not get a diagnosis#not that this is a thing that's gonna happen cause as i established i cannot afford a therapist nor i'll ever get a diagnosis i don't think#so like it's not relevant#but i am anxious about it nonetheless#angel talks#personal#idk what's my point with this post btw i'm just venting and creaming to the void#dkfjhgdfg
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With the popularity of Ted Lasso, I'm genuinely just so glad that we got such a phenomenal show that has made an impact on so many people, and of course now we've also gotten the first season of Shrinking, which also knocked it out of the park.
But I still mourn Whiskey Cavalier every time I watch an episode of either of those.
There hasn't been a whole lot of tv I've actually enjoyed in the past several years, and these three feel like an absolute trifecta, but WC feels like the holy ghost at this point because there is SO MUCH of it in Ted Lasso and Shrinking-- it's so many of the same writers/directors/producers, but they're also just so similar right to their foundations. All three interrogate tv tropes and relationships (of all kinds!!!!!) and mental health through comedy, and Ted Lasso and Whiskey Cavalier actually interrogate an entire genre. I'd say that WC is more on that side than Ted Lasso even is, because although they definitely interrogate some of the tropes of sports fiction (toxic masculinity, anyone?), WC actually parodies spy fiction while playing itself as straight.
It just makes me absolutely feral to think about what more of Whiskey Cav would have looked like. A second season? A third? The development of the show from the original(-ish, one of the drafts) pilot to what was actually filmed shows so much growth and an acknowledgement that they could really work with what they had-- it turned from a show about a guy (hence the name) to a show about an entire team. Frankie took the spot as the second main character with Will once they cast Lauren Cohan (I don't think that happened before she was cast but I may be wrong) and another character was completely rewritten into Jai when Vir Das was cast. They had an entire plan for how to flip the TV trope of the will-they-won't-they relationship to a how-will-they-make-it-work relationship!!!!!! It would have been so good!!!!!! The amount of character development we got in just one season was far above and beyond anything else I've seen besides Ted Lasso and Shrinking, and honestly I think more actually happened specifically because they didn't have the assurance of more seasons (good thing they didn't assume, I guess) to build on things like the Ted Lasso Method™ but they still managed to do it without rushing it.
Honestly I feel like I could make a venn diagram of how all three of these shows all overlap and it would be hilarious. Excellent theme songs by well known artists without it feeling cheap? ✅✅✅ Excellent episodic music by well known artists also without it feeling cheap? ✅✅✅ Really well executed character development for ALL of the characters? ✅✅✅ Interrogation of tv tropes? ✅✅✅ More specifically, hilariously camp villains who still manage to take advantage of tropes to work? ✅✅ Incredibly well developed character relationships OF ALL KINDS that don't all hinge on only one romantic relationship as the centerpoint of everything? ✅✅✅ Queer characters who don't exist for the butt of a joke or solely as token queer characters? ✅✅✅ Every line is delivered with perfect comedic (or dramatic) delivery and timing? ✅✅✅
Anyway, this has been a barely coherent and very meandering way of saying that the fact that ABC put the episodes out of order really screwed things up, but Whiskey Cav really hit its stride there with the second half of season one and absolutely nailed the vibe they'd been working towards with the foundational episodes that came before them, and I just get SO ANGRY when I watch Ted Lasso and Shrinking despite the fact that they're both so good and I enjoy them so much because it makes me think about just how good a second (and third, damn it) season of Whiskey Cavalier would have been.
#also Christa Miller ✅✅#there are live five people still on this entire platform who care at all about wc but it's just permanently close to my heart#also do not @ me about queer characters in wc Frankie literally talks about being queer IN MULTIPLE EPISODES#they all also said during a live tweet that she's queer but word of god isnt the same as canon#but it is also canon so#and ray literally talks about a guy he's flirting with and I do not want to hear a word about it being an 'accident'#another reason that I'm mad we didn't get to have s2 is because we didn't get a chance to have it spoon fed to people who#weren't paying attention or didn't want to believe it#like all the people watching ted lasso who said we didn't have any queer characters in it??????#keely and colin were queer the entire time folks it was made quite apparent#trent was less obvious but they pointed out keely and colin well without hanging up a sign the side of the believe poster#to draw attention to it#do I think it should have been more important sooner? sure#but they waited to fully explore it until it was part of the narrative#once keely wasn't with roy (which made sense to happen while she was at richmond) and once#colin and trent are in the same space at Richmond#anyway that's not the point of this post it's just making me mad right now because I keep seeing it#representation is really important but at the same time having characters who we expect to announce that#they're queer loud and up front creates really unreasonable expectations for real people to do the same#but ANYWAY#jo says things
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jankwritten · 1 year
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Actually, I don't think I'll be altering it, necessarily. I think that what I'm going to do is exactly what the show did - some Fuckshit that allows People to Come Back. Because Altea randomly reappears, and I think that Allura's energy should be allowed to come back too. The episode is titled The End Is the Beginning. I call bullshit that the lions just DISAPPEAR. I call bullshit that there is no more need for a defender of the universe. ALL realities were reestablished, and we had SOLID PROOF that all it took was one person, one event, for everything that happened to happen again. There would still be war. There would still be need for something like Voltron, even with the Atlas and the next generation of fighters. Even if it's not the current paladins - Voltron shouldn't just disappear. That ending is dumb, sorry.
That being said - holy shit. I genuinely loved that whole experience and I feel kind of bad for the people who let expectations and silly plot points blot out the whole show for them. Was it dumb at times? Yeah. Do I agree with the way that things went and how it ended? No! But that doesn't mean the show itself sucks or anything like that. This is the whole reason fandom spaces exist, or, part of the reason: so people can love the source material, and change what they don't, if need be. Like, that's the whole reason fanfiction exists IMO.
So, uh, anyway. If anybody has a pirated copy of VLD just lying around and uh....wants to just kick that my way in case it ever gets demolished off the internet.......i would love you forever and ever LMAO.
Wow. Just wow.
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