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artofvisualshock · 11 days

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Messages from the GazettE to the fans (Google translations)

〈 RUKI 〉

At the end, he said, "I want the GazettE to be forever." I think what he meant by "forever" was that he hoped that the amazing scenes he saw from the stage in 2023 would continue forever.

The scenes he saw with his fans, the happy faces of his fans, and the scenes where we all sang together were treasures that could not be replaced by anything else, and I think he hoped that moment would continue forever.

I remember him saying that he wanted to perform live soon.

Even now that he's grown up, he was a kind and passionate man who can honestly say, "Even if something bad happens, it's the most fun when we get together like this and laugh with the band members."

I loved that honesty.

This year was no different, and every year on our birthdays we would jokingly tell each other to take care of our health.

The band will never be a four-man band.

No matter what anyone says.

Because you're the only bassist we have.

Because I believe that my soul is always beside me to the right.

I'm sure everyone can feel it, even if they can't see it.

The proof that Reita has built up in the GazettE so far will not disappear and will definitely live on.

I believe that, so I will continue to sing beside him so that his soul can be right beside me.

I will not become the GazettE that Reita hates.

I don't want to make him sad.

Although all humans live in a finite life, I believe that souls never disappear.

Reita's soul, the members, myself, and the fans.

I want to continue to perform live shows that make all the people who loved me want to come back to the stage forever, even after they have become souls.

So it is only with each and every one of our fans that we can create the scenery that we hoped he would be eternal.

That's why I want him to stay by my side and be there, unchanged from now on.

He should look at me and smile, and think, "He was the best guy!", rather than looking at me with a sad face.

We are more determined than ever to protect this band.

We will make Reita's wish for eternity come true.

So, Reita, rest assured that you can come to every live show from heaven.

Your seat will always be there.

You're going to be super busy from now on.

I'll contact you again when the schedule is decided.

-----------------

<Uruha>

To all the fans who have supported REITA up until now.

I think he was a huge support for everyone, and for me.

I myself have not been able to accept and realize the fact that he is no longer here and that we can no longer stand on stage together.

There may be many things that I will come to understand little by little from now on.

However, if I continue to be drowning in sadness, I will not be able to make his wish for eternity come true, and I strongly feel that now is the time for me to have the strength to look forward and move forward.

I also think that the path we walked together until now was irreplaceable for him, and I think it will continue to live in the hearts of everyone and myself.

He gave us so much, and we walked together for so long, and he is still and will always be our best friend.

Please treasure all the words, memories, and love he left behind in your heart.

REITA will continue to exist and live in everyone's hearts.

We would like to express our sincere gratitude to everyone who has supported and cheered on the GazettE REITA.

-----------------

〈 Aoi 〉

For a long time, the members and a small staff have been working on various projects, saying "this and that," but writing this letter was the last thing I wanted to do.

There have been moments when I felt like giving up on my dreams.

Every time, we talked about it again and again, sometimes pushing each other, and pulling the members' arms so that they wouldn't give up.

Because we were such a band, the GazettE has been able to keep moving forward without stopping.

REITA, you're not the one who wishes for eternity, you're the one who connects eternity.

I can't say something clever like "I'll take care of you."

I wanted to make more music with you, and see more scenery together.

Every scenery is wonderful because we see it with the five of us, surrounded by our fans.

I don't know why, but it's so painful that I can't make it happen even though I have so many things I want to say.

When I get there, I'm going to start with a big lecture. I know it's lonely because we're gone so suddenly, but please take a rest until then.

I have a few more things to do here.

Thank you for walking this long road with me. Rest in peace.

-----------------

〈 Kai 〉

For me, REITA is an immeasurably big presence, saved by his many words and sounds, the mood maker for the band, and all I remember are really fun things, and above all, the sight of him shining on stage.

He is the best partner and the only one in the rhythm section.

That has never changed, and will never change in the future.

I want to continue carrying his feelings and continue with the GazettE with even greater resolve.

Finally, to all the fans and people involved who have supported us for the past 22 years.

Thank you very much.

And from now on, our feelings will remain the same and we would like to continue running as a group of five, so please continue to support us.

REITA

Thank you for all your hard work.

With the same feelings, we will continue to protect the GazettE together with our many friends... I promise.

There are many friends out there who don't want your 22 years to go to waste, and they are waiting for you.

You must come to our shows too!

Let's have some good sake again.

#the gazette #reita #rip #uruha #ruki #aoi #kai

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delcakoo · 1 year

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pity party ₊˚ރ⊹゛p.sh

SUMMARY ! when everyone forgets sunghoon’s birthday, he ends up finding comfort from a warmhearted stranger on the bus ride home.

PAIRING ! stranger!sunghoon x gn!reader

WC ! 800

GENRE ! fluff, slight angst and comforting sad hoon :c

a/n: sorry it’s short, just a lil’ thing for our birthday boy <3

sunghoon’s eyes were getting watery, and he hated that. a lot.

his birthday isn’t a big deal, he isn’t twelve anymore; he should just be grateful for what he has, wipe away his cascading tears and man the hell up.

but as he slides onto the public bus and scans down the aisle full of exhausted college students, old drunkards, and middle aged mother’s gossiping on calls with their kids fidgeting frantically next to them, he can’t find himself caring when all their eyes lock onto his teary red face, pink bottom lip trembling as he sniffles every few seconds.

he makes his way down the column of busy seats, mindlessly plopping down onto the first free one he comes across. and at last, he reaches his hand up, wiping the salty droplets off his puffy cheeks sorrowfully.

god, he was being such a wimp.

before he could beat himself up any further, a hesitant soft voice abruptly interrupts him. “are.. are you okay?”

sunghoon whips his head to his left, brows rising at the sight of soft eyes glistening with worry and concern towards him, despite being a complete stranger.

you were attiring a puffy winter coat and a bright green scarf, one hand gripping onto the tote bag resting carefully by your chocolate shaded boots.

he gulps and wipes his face again, feeling even more humiliated with his current state. “y-yeah, thanks,” he barely voices out.

sunghoon watches in his peripheral vision as you continue to examine him, clearly having an inner debate on if you should leave the conversation at that. he almost began crying again at how cute you look in such deep thought.

you swallow, “what happened, if i may ask? ur— i mean, you don’t have to tell me obviously, but if you—“

“it’s okay,” he assures with a small smile. “it’s kinda stupid, anyway. just.. all- all my friends n’ stuff.. they forgot my birthday.” your eyes widen, heart breaking into pieces at his painful tone. “i mean, i don’t even care, seriously. i don’t know why i’m crying because it’s really not a big deal.”

it seems you could easily tell he was trying to convince himself more than you.

it’s silent for a beat, nothing but sunghoon’s faint sniffling surrounding the bus until you hesitantly reach over, placing your hand on top of his cold, shaky one. your fingers rub his knuckles, gently calming his distress with comforting glances.

sunghoon didn’t realise how touch starved he was; throat getting clogged as he bites his lip to prevent letting out another pitiful sob, watching the way your touches feather him as if he were a fragile vase.

suddenly, you speak up again rather confidently. “can i give you my number?”

he chokes, looking back up with widened eyes. “w-what?”

“so we can make a plan for tomorrow,” you explain. “for your birthday.”

you, a complete stranger that had just met him on probably one of the worst days of his life, wanted to celebrate his birthday with him? tomorrow?

before he can stop to think, he’s already pulled his phone out, dropping it into your grasp mindlessly as you begin making a new contact. sunghoon peers closely as you type in your name with a bus and crying emoji next to it, letting out a chuckle of disbelief.

at the sound of laughter you look up, grinning proudly once you finally see his fanged smile. “you’re going to have the best birthday ever tomorrow…?” you look at him in question.

“sunghoon.”

“well sunghoon, i’m a master at baking cakes, specifically birthday cakes with chocolate fudge,” you declare, wiggling your eyebrows playfully.

sunghoon doesn’t even like chocolate.

but at that moment he decides it’ll be his new favourite flavour in the world.

as he opens his mouth to reply and show his gratitude, the bus driver boisterously announces the next stop.

“shit,” you mutter, frantically standing up from your seat. “i’m so sorry, i wish i could’ve stayed with you longer, but this is my stop.” your face reflected genuine affliction; not wanting the poor boy to be alone just as he was for the rest of his special day.

sunghoon shakes his head, “no, no it’s fine. you- you already made me feel way better.”

your face brightens a bit, nodding as you achingly wave goodbye. “see you tomorrow.” you turn away, walking right to the front of the bus, tote bag hanging on your shoulder and wooly green scarf still tightly around your neck.

it felt like a last goodbye, like everything was in slow motion watching you leave him, even though he’d be seeing you tomorrow.

but right before you descend down the stairs, you gasp, turning around and making the other passengers frown in annoyance as you block their way.

“hey sunghoon!” you shout across the bus without a care in the world.

the boy in question gawks as you stare him down, eyes shimmering and a fond smile rushing to your chapped lips. “happy birthday!”

sunghoon’s eyes get watery again, but he hates it a bit less this time.

if you enjoyed, reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

perm taglist: @duolingofanaccount @strawberry-sunset-skies @scented-morker @koshinene @boowoowho @sultrybaby @yunjinlvrr @lov3niki @yujiecho @monstaxdirtywonk @dekusgirl @l1lac-dreamer @kodzukii @yjjungwon @miou45 @rosie-is-everywhere

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secretsofdbz · 2 months

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So I finally caught some sleep (I woke up at 4 am, 20 minutes after the announcement, and slept a bit more after my last post announcing his passing).

First of all, this is going to be my panel: "See ya later guys, when you die we'll meet again!"

The hematoma that's mentioned in the statement announced in his passing implies a head injury (so perhaps he fell, perhaps something fell on his head, and the internal wound may have not be noticed)

The last artwork he did that was published was this new Sandland one to celebrate the upcoming series. It was revealed on March 4th, so after his passing. We don't know if it's the last artwork he did (he may have drawn this earlier and it was revealed later, who knows.

I'd also like to share some other statements, in no particular order:

Toyotaro's:

Masako Nozawa (Goku's VA) statement:

「コメントできる状況にございません」 -> "I am not in a position to comment."

(aka she was too shaken)

Nozawa update:

「信じたくない。考えたくないという気持ちで頭の中が空っぽです。それでも、お会いするたびに鳥山先生がおっしゃってくださった『悟空をお願いしますね』というお言葉を思い出すと、『私の命が尽きるまで悟空のそばにいよう』と気持ちを保つことが出来ます。先生、空から私たちを見守っていてください。どうか安らかな旅立ちでありますように。」 I don't want to believe. My mind is empty because I don't want to think about it. Still, every time we met, Toriyama-sensei said to me, "I'll take care of Goku for you, won't I?" When I remember your words, 'I will stay by Goku's side until my life is over,' I can keep my mind on it. Sensei, please watch over us from the sky. May you have a peaceful departure.

(Mayumi Tanaka, the voice of Krillin who was requested by Tori super early on will probably say something at some point too).

Oda (One Piece author) statement:

It is too early. The hole is too big. Sadness washes over me when I think that I will never see him again. I have admired him so much since I was a child, so I remember the day he called me by name for the first time. On the way home from the day you used the word "friend" for me and Kishimoto, I remember being overjoyed with Kishimoto. I also remember the last conversation we had. I was one of those who took the baton from the days when reading manga made you a fool, and he also created an era when both adults and children could enjoy reading manga. He showed us the dream that manga can go worldwide. It was like watching a hero going forward. For not only mangakas but also creators in various industries, the excitement and emotion of the time of Dragon Ball serialization must have taken root in their childhood. His existence is like a big tree. For the manga artists of our generation who stood on the same stage, Toriyama's works became more and more important to me as I got closer to the same stage. I even felt being scary. But I am just happy to see the aloof man himself again. Because we love him on a blood level. With respect and gratitude for the creative world he has left behind. I pray for his soulful rest in peace. May heaven be the joyous world he envisioned.

And Kishimoto's statement (the autho of Naruto)

To be honest, I don’t know what to write or how to write it. But right now, I want to tell Mr. Toriyama the things I always wanted to ask him and my feelings. I grew up with Mr. Toriyama’s manga, Dr. Slump in elementary school and Dragon Ball in high school. It was natural for me to have Mr. Toriyama’s manga next to me as a part of my life. Even when I was feeling down, the weekly Dragon Ball always made me forget about it. It was a salvation for me, a country boy with nothing to do. That’s how much I enjoyed Dragon Ball! When I was a college student, Dragon Ball, which had been a part of my life for so long, suddenly ended. I was overwhelmed by a tremendous sense of loss and didn’t know what to look forward to. But at the same time, it was an opportunity for me to realize from the bottom of my heart the greatness of Mr. Toriyama, who created Dragon Ball. I want to create a work like Mr. Toriyama’s! I want to be like Mr. Toriyama! As I chased after Mr. Toriyama, the sense of loss gradually disappeared. Because it was fun to create manga. By chasing after Mr. Toriyama, I was able to find new joy. Mr. Toriyama was always my compass. He was my inspiration. I may be bothering Mr. Toriyama, but I am grateful to him without permission. To me, he was a savior and a god of manga. When I first met him, I was so nervous that I couldn’t say a word. But as I met him more and more at the Tezuka Osamu Cultural Prize jury meeting, I was able to talk to him. I will never forget the time when I talked to him about how much fun Dragon Ball was, like a child with Oda-san, as Dragon Ball children, and how he smiled a little shyly. I just received the news of Mr. Toriyama’s death. I am overwhelmed by a tremendous sense of loss, even greater than when Dragon Ball ended… I don’t know how to deal with this hole in my heart yet. I can’t read my favorite Dragon Ball right now. I don’t even feel like I’m writing this text properly to Mr. Toriyama. Everyone in the world was still looking forward to Mr. Toriyama’s work. If one Dragon Ball wish really comes true… I’m sorry… It may be selfish, but I’m sad, Mr. Toriyama. Thank you, Mr. Akira Toriyama, for 45 years of wonderful work. And thank you very much for your hard work. To the bereaved family, I pray that you will find peace and comfort in the midst of your grief. I pray for the peaceful repose of the soul of Mr. Akira Toriyama.

And finally one of Toriyama's close friends Masakazu Katsura (Video Girl AI author) also had this to say:

I feel drained and unmotivated. I don’t want to write a comment like this. But I’ll write something. Once I start writing, I’ll have so much to say that it will probably turn into a long text, but I’ll try to keep it as short as possible. I apologize for the rambling, as my thoughts are still not in order. Looking back, all I have are fond memories of the times we spent together – whether it was visiting your house, having you stay over at mine, or going out on trips. Every time we talked on the phone, we would laugh so hard that we would get tired. You were a funny person. You were perverted, cute, sharp-tongued, and humble. We collaborated on some manga projects, which were also a lot of fun. But 99% of the time, we never talked about manga. As a manga artist, the gap between the way we saw things and our level of skill was too great, and I never really felt your greatness. I know it now. But when I was with you, I never felt it at all. That’s just the kind of person you were. That’s why I still can’t think of you as anything other than a friend, even though you were a great manga artist. Last summer, before I had surgery, you heard about it somewhere and sent me an email. It was really rare for you to send an email, and it was so full of concern for my health. We’ve been friends for 40 years, but that might have been the first time I felt such kindness from you. I thought it was going to snow. You know, you usually only talk about jokes or nonsense. What the hell, you shouldn’t be worried about other people, right? I called you a little before that, and I was feeling sick all over, so I said, “I’ll probably go first, so have a farewell party for me, Toriyama! And make sure you give a speech, because it’ll make me look good!” But you didn’t keep your promise. I really regret not calling you after you emailed me. I just can’t believe that I can’t talk to you on the phone for hours anymore. There are so many things I want to talk to you about. There are so many things I want to say. Even if you don’t care about what I have to say, you can just zone out like you always do. I just want to talk to you again. The last thing you said to me was “OK” in response to my email asking you to contact me again. That’s just not good enough. I’m so sad.

And the Dragon Quest LEGEND, Yuji Horii, too...

I am still filled with disbelief at the sudden news of Mr. Toriyama’s passing. I have known Mr. Toriyama since I was a writer for Weekly Shonen Jump. At the recommendation of my editor, Torishima-san, I decided to ask him to draw the illustrations for the game Dragon Quest when we were launching it. For over 37 years since then, he has drawn countless charming characters, including character designs and monster designs. The history of Dragon Quest is one that has been intertwined with Mr. Toriyama’s character designs. Mr. Toriyama and the late Mr. Sugiyama were longtime collaborators on Dragon Quest. I can’t believe they’re gone… I can’t find the words to express my sorrow. This is truly, truly a tragedy.

Torishima, his "evil editor" (the one the Mashirito from Dr Slump is inspired by), also put out a statement:

"The last time we worked together was on the book we published last year, 'Dr. Mashirito's Strongest Manga Technique.' In that book, 'Torishima and Toriyama Back Then' was the last manga we made together. 45 years, thank you very much. Mr. Toriyama, you were the best manga artist I have ever known."

(this is what he's talking about)

Jackie Chan statement:

"Akira Toriyama-sensei, thank you for creating so many classics, they will always be with the world, farewell 🙏"

French president Emmanuel Macron:

the tweet reads "To Akira Toriyama and his millions of fans who grew up with him",

The authograph says "for Ma-ku-ro-n president" (to President Macron); the hand-drawn parts are the little Goku and the dragon balls surrounding him, alongside the autograph. It was drawn over a printed paper (as per custom when getting an autograph)

The date indicates it was given to him during the Olympic Games in Tokyo.

Yabuki Kentaro (To Love Ru's author) (link to the tweet)

Takao Koyama (screen writer for 90% of the episodes and the movies) says Toriyama was sick for over a year at this point. He himself is pretty badly sick as well.

Hiroki Takahashi (Makafushigi Adventure, first DB opening)

Hironobu Kageyama (Chala Head Chala and everything else)

"Singing 'CHA-LA HEAD-CHA-LA!' is the biggest medal in my life! The loss of the sun is too much to bear But the power of Toriyama-sensei's works Will continue to be a strong light And may it illuminate people all over the world. May you rest in peace."

(some more of the Editorial department of Jump can be found here, with a good browser extension you should be able to get the gist of it)

Feel free to reblog with your favorite manga panels, interviews, trivias, and let's pay a homage to his life and work, alright??

#akira toriyama #dragon ball #dr slump #death #cw death #mourning #dragon quest #db #dbz

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gaeforwom3n · 20 days

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People can hurt...

Words: 675

Summary: Tara comfort her childhood friend from a break up..

Warnings: bad writing, the use of y/n, Tara may or may not have feelings for reader, i think that's all

Tara and Y/n had been best friends since middle school. They met in homeroom on the first day of seventh grade, and from that moment on, they were inseparable. They sat next to each other in every class, shared lunches, and even went to each other's houses after school.

Y/n was always drawn to Tara's confident demeanor and laid-back attitude. She admired how Tara never seemed to care what other people thought of her, and she found herself wanting to be just like her. On the other hand, Tara loved Y/n's kindness and empathy. She knew that Y/n would always be there for her, no matter what.

Now they’re in college and y/n is in tears in Tara's arms, explaining how exhausted she felt in her relationship with her ex-girlfriend, Tara could see the pain etched onto her friend's face. She held Y/n close, feeling her heart break for her best friend.

"It's not your fault," Tara said softly, stroking Y/n's hair as she held her. "Depression is a complicated illness… it's not something you can just overcome by being happy or supportive."

Y/n sobbed even harder at Tara's words, feeling guilty for blaming her ex's mental illness on the reason their relationship ended. She knew that it wasn't her fault, but she still felt like an idiot for thinking that she was the one who could change her ex-girlfriend.

"Please… make the pain stop," Y/n begged Tara, tears streaming down her face. "I just want it to all go away…"

Tara held Y/n even closer, feeling her friend's body shake with sobs. She knew that the pain of a broken heart was deep and raw, but she also knew that she would do anything to help ease Y/n's suffering.

"Shhh… you don't have to bear this pain alone," Tara said softly, gently rocking Y/n in her arms.

The night wore on, and as the hours passed, Y/n's crying slowly began to fade. Exhausted from all the sobbing, she finally drifted off to sleep in Tara's arms.

Tara held her friend close, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over her. She knew that she could never fully understand what Y/n was going through, but she also knew that she would do anything to help her best friend heal.

As Y/n slept peacefully in her arms, Tara whispered softly into her ear, "I love you… and I'll always be here for you." And with those words, she quietly watched over Y/n as she slept, making sure that her friend felt safe and loved. Even in the darkest of times, Tara knew that they would always find their way back to each other. And for now, that was all that mattered.

The next day..

The following morning, Tara found Y/n curled up on her couch, still wearing the same clothes from the night before. Her eyes were puffy from crying, and there was a lingering sadness in her usually bright and cheerful demeanor.

"Hey," Tara said softly, sitting down next to Y/n and putting an arm around her shoulders. "How are you feeling?"

Y/n let out a small sigh, leaning into Tara's embrace. "I… I don't know, Tara," she replied, her voice trembling with emotion. "Everything just seems so overwhelming… I miss her, but at the same time, I hate how she made me feel like shit all the time. And now… I just feel so stupid for thinking that I could make her happy."

Tara squeezed Y/n's shoulder gently, trying to offer some comfort. "You know what, Y/n?" she said softly. "It takes a lot of courage to admit when something isn't right… and you're right to feel hurt. No one should make you feel bad about yourself, especially not someone who claims to love you."

Y/n sniffled, wiping away a stray tear. "Thanks, Tara," she murmured, leaning her head against Tara's chest. "You always know what to say to make me feel better."

#tara carpenter x fem!reader #tara carpenter x reader #scream vi #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n #scream 6 #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #tara carpenter

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somewhereincairparavel · 17 days

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Hazel and Jason's dynamic is SO fucking disappointing now that I'm binge reading the books again. It was so frosty and distant. Jason was literally just mistrusted and "not like what she expected him to be" in 90% of her Hoo POVS it's sad really. I really wish they would bonded properly. So much potential for friendship just down the drain.

Hazel's unwillingness to forgive Jason for suspecting Nico was genuinely pissing me off I'm sorry 😭 like I never thought I'd get mad at Hazel of all people bc she is literally a sweetie, but she's infantilized way too much in the fandom, so her flaws are easily overlooked, but like she literally went all volcano on Jason and held a grudge against him till House of Hades too? Like I get that she worried about her brother and stuff I'd be mad too. But it's the fact that she selectively forgave Leo SO quickly and never even yelled at him (even though he's the one who started the suspicion in the first place even jokingly called nico creepy and stuff behind his back not that I'm trying to fault him or anything I love him)

look I'm not saying it's all Leo's fault or anything, in my opinion, both Jason and Leo were right to suspect nico because of how back and forth nico went from both camps without saying a word and also pretended to not know percy and stuff. So it's realistically shady behaviour from their pov.

But Hazel gets all sweet and soft on Leo because of Sammy and forgives him in a heartbeat, tbh tho she never really directed her anger on Leo in the first place so there was nothing to forgive. But when Jason apologizes, she gets all cold and frosty like accepting his genuine apology is the hardest thing she has ever done?? Like?? Hazelnut I love you and all, but you just accused Jason of unfairly judging nico but you ironically unfairly judged Jason and went all sweetheart on Leo?? Contradiction much?? Either forgive both of them or don't forgive either of them? Why the bias?

Then in HoH she goes on a whole lot of yapping about how she doubts his capabilities as if she didnt just idolize him like 5 minutes ago RIGHT after he encouraged her that she was doing well and included her as a part of the team?? Idk, she was so petty with him and for what?. I just found it unfair that Jason considered hazel a friend but she didn't consider him one and just fully went all judgy mode on him for the rest of the series. she holds on an even bigger grudge than nico lol. she literally did anything but forgive him or give him a chance. so ooc.

Also, In TOA, I found out Hazel told Apollo that she talked to Jason's ghost after he died, to yell at him about how much his sacrifice had hurt Piper :/ like rlly? Out of all the things you could say to a person you idolized who made a lifechanging sacrifice, you guilt trip him for the sacrifice instead of gratitude? Ig she may have been raging out of grief or something but I honestly didn't like the way their dynamic ended. So incomplete. Just another reason of why I found fanon way better.

Hazel coming in terms with the fact that jason is a boy, and not a legend would've been sm better. since the seven basically signifies friendship and comfort. him being a boy with feelings is basically the whole point of his character, but it only gets acknowledged by nico and leo. hazel of all people would've understood jason's internal struggle, she has literally come back from the dead, if anyone knows about struggle, its her.

#I honestly hope y'all don't misunderstand this post as hazel slander or something. i love that pookie #but its time we acknowledge that she is flawed and is not an innocent bean who can do no wrong simply because she is infantilized #I am just super salty at how Jason had like no closeness to anyone but leo and nico #the amount of slandering this man had to endure from ppl. like the hazel raging at him was such an unnecessary addition.#Hazel and jason could've had a great heart to heart scene #pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo hoo #jason grace #pjo hoo toa #pjo series #annabeth chase #piper mclean #leo valdez #hazel levesque #frank zhang

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undertheorangetree · 8 months

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Under the God's Eye

Chapter Eight- The Decision

Summary- Aemond attempts to make amends.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Grovelling apology. Vaginal fingering. Cunnilingus. P in V sex. Multiple orgasms. Happy endings in every sense of the word. Fluff.

Author's Note- This is it!! Thank you so much for joining me on my little foray into modern AUs. I hope you all enjoyed every bit of this the same way I enjoyed writing it<3 link to the full chapter below!

Series masterlist

dividers by firefly-graphics

When she wakes the next morning, her head is pounding, her eyes are swollen, and she's covered in a thin sheen of sweat. After recounting her story on the boat, Baela had insisted that she sleep in her room in the guest house, an offer she was in no place to refuse. Helaena and Sara had gone and retrieved her things from Aemond's room, all three of them promising to take her home the next morning with Rhaena in tow, reassuring her that they would make a day out of it. She had started crying again then, drunken gratitude coming over her like a wave and they had all crushed her beneath a hug.

Though she had assured them that she would be alright, none would leave her and they had all fallen asleep in Baela's bed, pressed tight to ensure they all fit.

She pulls away from the dogpile in the bed, carefully crawling over the other still sleeping bodies and padding her way across the room. Grabbing a hoodie she thinks is Baela's, she pushes her feet into a pair of shoes and makes her way outside, shutting the door softly behind her. As poorly as this has all ended, she would like to look at the lake one last time before she leaves. She doubts she will ever come here again, on her own or with someone else, so she may as well enjoy a few quiet moments next to the water. There have been few opportunities for it.

The dock is a short walk away, two plastic chairs already sat on the edge, and she lets out a heavy breath as she sits down. It's still early, the air cold and the sun casting a red-gold hue across the sky, half hidden by the clouds. The water is still as death, reflecting the morning sky back like a mirror, and she allows the peace of the moment to wash over her, tugging her sleeves down to cover her hands.

It feels like a herculean feat, not to think of Aemond. For two weeks, she had spent nearly every morning wrapped in him. The memory of it is seared into her brain and she thinks she can almost smell his cologne even now. She hates it, hates the power he has over her after all he has done.

The alcohol has worked its way through her, leaving nothing but a dull ache in its wake, but she is still so angry. She had thought perhaps she would calm in the morning, but that stab of betrayal is still raw in her chest, nearly enough to keep her warm. But that anger eventually melts into sadness, something she thinks is infinitely worse, and soon she feels warm tears slide down her cheeks, cooling in the morning air. She lets them fall, not bothering to pull her hands out of her sleeves when she knows there is more to come, and sniffles pitifully.

She will feel better once she’s back home. In her own bed, listening to bickering roommates and the shriek of backfiring cars. There is still a little over a month of summer left. She can spend that time making up for everything she had sacrificed in order to come here. Pray someone will let her volunteer so she can work up something that could get her an in for an internship. It had all seemed so less daunting when she thought she had the Targaryen and Hightower internship waiting in the wings but she will make the best of it. She always has.

She doesn’t know how long she sits there, staring at the lake, silent tears falling, but it’s long enough for the sun to rise a bit higher, for the weight on her chest to ease a little. Truthfully, it’s almost peaceful, the first moment she has been alone for weeks.

"Hey," a quiet voice greets suddenly and she turns to find Helaena making her way toward her. She has a soft look on her face, radiating empathy, but she still tries to wipe the tears from her face before Helaena can notice. "Can I join you?"

She nods, turning her face away to hide it before asking, "Is everyone else awake?"

"No. Just me."

She nods again and waits as Helaena makes herself comfortable in the chair opposite her, tucking her legs up to sit cross legged. For a long time, they just sit in silence, both of their eyes locked on the lake before them. She knows the shoe is about to drop, that Helaena is simply waiting for the right opportunity to speak, but somehow that doesn’t fill her with the dread she expects it too. Somehow, that calm from before is still sitting with her, keeping her from panicking too much about Helaena’s intentions.

The sun continues rising, the air staying cold, and the longer they stay silent, the more she thinks that Helaena will simply allow them to sit in it. But the moment she becomes convinced of that, Helaena speaks.

“How are you feeling? Could you not sleep?”

Read the rest here

Taglist- @backyardfolklore @docmartinis @watercolorskyy @barbieaemond @bellaisasleep @yentroucnagol @aemondsbabygirl @randomdragonfires @at-a-rax-ia @violetletovi @launotfound @helaenaluvr @solisarium @bellstwd @moonlightfoxx

#Aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen smut #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd smut #hotd x you #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen x fem!reader

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cherrybyunss · 5 months

Text

Ship: Lee Jeno (NCT) x female reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Angst, Mentions of Death, Grieving, Escape Sex, Oral (F receiving), Fingering, Nipple Play, Protected Sex.

Summary: This is an excerpt from "Make Me Feel Lightweight", the new fic im working on. To sum it up, Y/N was dating Jaemin when he met with an accident. This excerpt is Y/N remembering the time she hooked up with his best friend in search for solace a month after he'd passed away. (Hence the italicized text cause it's a flashback) (I warned you guys this fic gets angsty).

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), not proofread, protection is important, this is purely fictional and has nothing to do with the real idol. This is SAD but also sexy so read at your own risk.

cheryybyunss Masterlist

________________

You were drunk. Not drunk enough by a long shot but drunk nevertheless.

It was one of those days you needed alcohol in your system so you wouldn’t lose your mind. You’d been having a lot of those lately.

“Here you go.” Jeno walked into the room with a glass of water.

You accepted it. “Thanks.” But in lieu of drinking, you kept staring at it.

Everything around you had become a reminder of Jaemin.

Or maybe it had always been, it was just the misery that accompanied the memories that was new.

Fuck… You thought.

The void was getting deeper.

It was as if your body refused to listen to you – refused to act alive. You felt numb.

And a singular tear streamed down your otherwise blank face.

You felt a gentle pair of hands reach out, bringing the glass to your lips, and letting you taste the water.

You looked up at Jeno as you drank up.

He had a sorry smile on his face.

Damn it… Why did men have to act all strong and shit.

Jeno had lost his best friend of double digit years and yet… was allowing you to feel like you could lean on him in this fucked up state of yours.

He kept the glass away, wiped your lips, and fixed the pillows for you to lie down on the bed.

Allowing you to be selfish…

You teared up.

“Hey,” Jeno held your hand. “Is everything okay?”

The question made you choke up with tears. Nothing was okay.

But you couldn’t say that, so you just shook your head.

God, you missed Jaemin.

“Is there anything I can do?”

You looked up at Jeno again. He’d asked in earnest.

And so you allowed yourself to seek solace.

“Can you hold me?” You made yourself sadder with how your voice broke at the end.

Jeno opened his mouth, as if deliberating in his head, before he pursed his lips and nodded. “Sure.”

He lied down and opened up his arms for you. And you felt an extreme sense of gratitude for how welcome he made you feel.

Your first impulse was to snuggle in, but you decided against it. You shifted into his embrace so he was now spooning you instead.

You took a deep breath as Jeno’s arms wrapped around you.

With how overwhelmed you’d been, this vulnerable position may not have been the best idea, but for the first time in a month, you felt some semblance of safety.

Jaemin loved spooning you.

“You deserve it.” He would say. And leave a stream of kisses down your neck, till you were struggling to make him stop with the biggest smile on your face.

If only you could experience it one more time. You’d never ask him to stop.

Your hand found its way atop Jeno’s hand resting on your stomach. You hoped Jeno felt comfort too, lying like this with you.

Your thumb was mindlessly caressing the back of his hand, when he shifted a little, huddling in closer.

And your heart positively skipped a beat.

His breath was now falling directly onto a sensitive spot on your neck, and for some reason, you could not move.

“You good?” Jeno spoke, probably having realized you’d frozen.

But his voice made it worse, for you gasped, your back arching away from him ever so slightly, and your hand tightening its grip onto his.

You felt Jeno freeze as well. And his breath still continued to hit your neck, letting goosebumps travel down your body each time.

Fuck… Was he doing it on purpose now?

Your eyes shot open at the thought.

This was extremely dangerous territory. Irretrievably dangerous.

You knew that.

You knew that but it was the first time since the accident that you’d felt something other than pain, and you were not ready to let it go just yet.

Not just yet.

How fucking selfish…

Maybe you didn’t deserve Jaemin after all.

You shifted a little to make it all less overwhelming – both the good and the bad. And Jeno seemingly figured yet again that something was wrong.

“Hey…” His hand went to your waist, offering comfort.

“Don’t talk.”

Jeno supported himself up on his elbow behind you, and you refused to look back.

Your heart was racing, and nothing made sense. Jeno was Jaemin’s best friend…

And probably the only person who could make you feel something again.

You took a deep breath.

“Jeno…” You spoke, before looking just slightly over your shoulder as a tear rolled down to your ear.

You had nothing to lose anymore.

“Just this once… Will you have sex with me?”

There was no going back now.

Jeno lay there wordlessly, which was quite frankly a better response than you’d expected.

For some reason, your desperation increased with every passing second. You turned your face towards him.

“I know Jaemin was your best friend, I’m just… lonely, and I desperately need to fucking feel something or else I will absolutely lose my mind. And I know this is the most selfish request I could’ve made–”

Jeno cut you off by cupping your face. The touch of his fingers, warm enough to make you sob like a child.

You took a deep breath when he slowly leaned in, and pressed his lips onto your forehead. Your eyes fell shut, the tears that had welled up spilling over.

When he pulled away, you searched his eyes for any sign of resentment. But you couldn’t find any.

What you did see in his eyes as they looked into yours, was an emptiness akin to yours.

And you never figured out if it was fear that you felt next, or the elation at having company. All you knew was that you were on edge.

Men weren’t strong at all…

Your hand went up into his hair when he leaned in again. There really was no going back now.

Jeno kissed you, and you felt the kiss in the deepest parts of your soul as warmth spread all across your body in its wake.

You moaned into the kiss in desperation, and Jeno knew to match the heat.

He kissed you as if it were the last thing he’d ever do, leaving you gasping and groaning under him, – and oh, how you wished he could make it last forever.

He turned you back around, and grabbed the bare skin of your waist underneath your top, eliciting a gasp from you as you threw your head back, giving him all the space he needed.

He latched his lips onto the spot he now knew to be sensitive all too well, and sucked, making you moan his name, before soothing it with his tongue.

“Oh my god…” You felt that in your abdomen.

Fueled by your reaction, you assumed, he grew wilder. And you reveled in every second of pleasure he let you feel.

He pushed your jaw up and immediately continued the assault on your weak spots, enjoying the new found areas. Your labored breathing proving to be all the motivation he needed.

He licked a strip upto your ear, the movement painfully slow towards the end, and you had to dig into his fore arm in order to not scream in ecstasy.

One of his hands went upto your breasts, and he took a deep breath as he felt you up, and for some reason, that turned you on beyond reversal.

An image of Jaemin doing the same thing flashed in your head, and instead of managing to bring your overwhelming desperation to a halt, the image just proved to add fuel to the fire.

It caught you off-guard too. But you guessed you’d been hoping for this.

“Aah–” You knew you’d started to lose your mind, but it just felt too good to stop.

Jeno pulled away before pushing you flat against the bed, and climbing on top of you.

He looked at you with unparalleled desire in his eyes. And you felt yourself clench around nothing.

“Jeno…” You spoke, and could only say so much before Jeno kissed you again. And you sighed into the kiss.

You were gonna regret this, you were sure. So was Jeno. But every inch of your skin that he touched felt like it would come to life any second, and you wanted nothing more than for that feeling consume you in that moment.

You wanted Jeno to clutch your brain and make you forget and remember all at the same time.

As the kisses got more desperate than either of you could take, you pushed him away, just enough to be able to take off the t-shirt he was wearing, and you felt het pool in your stomach at the sight before your eyes.

You’d never noticed how fucking hot Jeno was before.

You kissed him again before taking off your top as well, and pulling him back down on top of you.

And oh my god, skin against skin felt amazing.

“Hey…” Jeno spoke, cupping your face again, and caressing your cheek with his thumb. “Are you sure about this?”

Your heart sank a little. He was going through grief too, and still managed to be a much better person than you’ll ever be.

You nodded. And he searched for more.

“I know it’s fucked up but…” You said, never looking away from him. “I need you today.”

And you knew that you were going to hell.

“I need you to make me forget everything else. I need you to make me feel so good that it’s all I can think of.” You brushed a couple strands of hair out of his sight. “You’re all I can think of.”

And Jeno took a deep breath, before kissing you again. Less desperate this time, but just as commanding. And you kissed back like your life depended on it.

“Sorry Jeno.” You spoke when he moved down to your neck, and you could not get enough of the feeling of his skin against yours. “It’s the most selfish thing, I know–”

You were cut off by your own gasp when Jeno found a soft spot on your neck and proceeded to leave a hickey, your hands clutching onto his back. “I’m hardly any better.” He breathed against the mark he’d left.

Jeno snaked his hand behind your back and unclasped your bra, allowing you to take it off, so he could waste no time latching his mouth onto one of your nipples, and sucking.

“Aah–” Your back arched up as Jeno worked his tongue on one nipple and fingers on the other, making you press your legs together in arousal.

Jeno looked up at you in the middle of the feat and allowed one of his hands to travel further down your torso. Your toes curled in anticipation.

He traced his finger down your waist, leaving goosebumps along the way, till he reached the waistband of your shorts. He pulled away, before hooking his fingers in, and on earning a nod from you, removing the shorts together with your panties in one swift motion, leaving your core bare against the cold air.

You instinctively closed your legs, but he grabbed your thighs and pried them open, and you grabbed the sheets in a fist.

Jeno parted your folds and ran his thumb all the way up, making you jolt at the sudden pleasure. “Fuck…” He cursed under his breath. “You’re really wet.”

He circled your clit, drawing out a groan from you, before lowering himself between your legs.

He licked a stripe up to your clit before circling the sensitive bud and sucking lightly, and you screamed his name as he ate you out. Every flick of his tongue pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“F-fuck! Oh my god–” Your hands flew to his hair, and that only motivated him to go harder. “Jeno…!” You cried out. “It feels amazing, please don’t stop!”

Jeno looked up at you, before adding one, and then two fingers to the mix. And you felt ecstasy consume your entire being when he curled his digits against your sweet spot.

Your back arched away from the bed as you felt yourself come close to your high. Jeno was working your touch starved body like he’d known it for ages, and you felt yourself edge over to madness from how fucking amazing it felt.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You cried out as your legs started closing in, if not for Jeno holding them in place as his mouth and fingers drove you over the edge.

You saw stars as one of the most intense orgasms you’d ever had washed over you in waves of pleasure. Your voice coming out in broken moans of Jeno’s name as he helped you ride your high out.

And then withdrew, allowing you to catch your breath.

Your dead boyfriend’s best friend had just given you an absolutely mind blowing orgasm, and you couldn’t wait to have him fuck your brains out.

You guessed this was about as fucked as things could get.

You sat up, hurriedly undoing the shorts Jeno was wearing, And you hoped Jeno was just as desperate.

When you finally managed, and pulled his shorts down, you gasped.

Looking up at Jeno, you realized he was expecting the reaction.

“Will you need to cum again before I go in?”

And your mouth stayed agape as you shook your head. Jeno was huge.

You gulped, and leaned in, licking a stripe up Jeno’s length, never looking away from him eyes, and he took a deep breath looking at you.

He groaned under his breath when you half the length into your mouth and sucked, before moving your tongue around playfully.

With your eyes trained at him, you attempted to deep throat. “Fuck.” He cursed when you managed to take in most of him, tears welling up in your eyes at the fullness.

You bobbed your head back and forth a few times, sucking on your way out each times, before pulling away and looking up at him again.

He pushed you back down onto the bed, the roughness making you clench again.

Jeno reached to the side table and pulled out a condom.

As he rolled it on, he looked at you, and asked again. “You sure you don’t need lube? Or at least another orgasm?”

You nodded, gesturing for him to come closer.

He leaned in, giving you the softest kiss on the lips.

You let out shaky breath when he pulled away. Who would’ve though Jeno of all people would be giving you butterflies.

“I’ll be fine, just…” You spoke, flushed out. “Just give it to me.”

Jeno looked a little something… Endeared?

He moved a couple strands of hair out of your face before kissing you again.

He intertwined his fingers with yours and pinned your hands on each side, catching you off guard.

“I’ll be gentle still.” He breathed into your ear, and you felt like you could cry.

He entered you slowly, the stretch still fucking unbelievable. You held your breath till he entered completely, your nails probably leaving marks on the back of his hands.

“Oh my god…”

“You okay?” He was letting you adjust.

You nodded, smiling a little at how careful he was being. “I won’t break, Jeno.”

“Careful, I might take your word for it.” He kissed down your neck as your eyes rolled back.

He pulled out almost entirely, before slamming his length inside you at once, and you screamed.

“Fuck!”

“What’s wrong? I thought you won’t break.”

“Jeno, I swear to god!” You cursed. “Stop fucking teasing me and get the fuck on with it.”

Jeno smiled. He was having too much fun for your liking.

He pulled out again. “Get on with what?” And then another thrust knocked the life out of you.

“Jeno…!” You cried.

You knew he wasn’t cruel enough to make you beg more than you already had. At least not given the circumstances you were in.

You just needed him to fuck you. And you needed him to do it now.

Plus with the way you'd been clenching around him, you’d be surprised if he didn’t.

“Okay, sorry.”

Jeno put both of your wrists together above your head, using one of his hands to hold them there, as the other went to grab your waist in a firm grip, and you felt impossibly turned on.

And then he rammed into you once, and then twice, picking up a pace that made you scream his name at the top of your lungs.

With every thrust he knocked the air out of you, your hands begging to hold him. But he was way stronger.

He fucked you like a man on fire, and you could cry at how good you were feeling.

Jeno leaned down to kiss your neck, while maintaining the pace of a madman, and pinched your nipple as he did. Your body’s reaction to the proximity was painfully intense.

“F-fuck! Jeno!!” You cried, tears legitimately welling up in your eyes.

When you hit your first orgasm this time around, Jeno only changed his pace a little so you could ride the high, but showed no intentions of stopping to let you catch your breath, earning an actual shriek from you.

“What are you doing??” You cried in overstimulation. “I came!”

“You can go on, can’t you?” He whispered, and went harder.

Jeno’s hand traveled down from your breasts to your clit, and your eyes shot open when you realized what he was doing.

“Just a little longer.” He said, and never looking away from you or slowing down his unbelievably hard thrusts, he started massaging your already sensitive clit with the pad of his thumb, while your hands were still pinned above your head.

“Aaah!!–” You had positively lost all grasp over reality. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…! J-jeno!!”

You sobbed, tears streaming down your face. As Jeno continued his assault on your sanity.

“I can’t!–”

“Fuck…” Jeno cursed under his breath.

You hit the wave again, and pleasure consumed your entire being as you almost blacked out. It was absolutely insane what your body had just experienced.

This time around, your orgasm triggered Jeno’s own, and he groaned as he came, the sound making you clench some more.

You rode your highs out with each other’s help, and Jeno finally let go of your hands, allowing you some rest.

For some reason, Jaemin flashed in your head as you caught your breath.

And you cursed at yourself, pushing the image to the back of your mind.

Jeno discarded the condom, and helped you clean yourself before spooning you from the back again.

You turned around to face him. He smiled at you when you did.

“Thanks…” You said. “And I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

You averted your gaze for a second before looking at him again.

It wasn’t what you wanted but it was probably for the best… –

“Let’s never do that again.”

________________

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hanniebread · 16 days

Text

what comes must go. yoon jeonghan

warnings. mentions of tuberculosis as well as terminal cancer, bittersweet sort of ending, kind of angsty and sad.

wc. 1.9k

an. i wrote this in thirty minutes while listening to radiohead so it's pretty meh, but i wanted to post it regardless lol. also i'm really nervous to put this out there because i've never actually published anything before so i genuinely have no clue if this is even worth posting or not... please try to enjoy regardless umm thats all

everything happens for a reason. over time jeonghan had grown to be painfully aware of that fact, being fed the phrase on a silver platter by his mother throughout his entire life. everything has it’s own purpose, and once it’s done serving it, it goes on to be something more important–something more solemn and dignified.

when a tree dies, it weeps sap before finally resting; though it’s slumber isn’t eternal, as it goes on to become a life source for those around it. some trees take on different purposes, falling to the ground to create a new path for living creatures that may wander towards it. a tree laying over a river to become a bridge is the same as a tree that spreads it’s roots into the ground to become a mother.

in fifth grade, jeonghan’s hamster died. his mother broke the news to him–though she didn’t tell him directly, making up some excuse about his pet going on an adventure to explore that of which he hadn’t had the opportunity to see while he was living in a cage.

he figured out what really happen two years later, now being old enough to truly grasp the concept of death, though he didn’t shed any tears. jeonghan figured that since everything has a purpose, there must’ve been a reason behind his beloved pets death. there had to be an ulterior outcome, something that let to a happier ending instead of the despondency and disconsolateness you’d feel when envisioning death. it took him a while, but he’d forced himself to accept the fact that he’d never know the real reason, because what comes must go.

in eight grade, just before he’d be sent off to a prestigious high school, jeonghan fell ill with tuberculosis. everything he’d worked for, the education he’d craved throughout his entire life, had been stripped from his hands and thrown out the window with one examination. when the doctors informed him of this, he almost didn’t believe it. everything had gone so well for him, and he’d worked to keep it that way--yet when he reached his highest, he was dropped to his lowest within just a few seconds.

he found himself unable to grasp the notion, though he knew it was more than that by now, it was his new reality. throughout the healing process, he found himself asking: was god punishing him for being happy? was this meant to happen? did this have a reason behind it?

by the time jeonghan had become well enough to go home, he’d already missed his entire ninth grade year, shifting into the next without experiencing any of it. he’d recovered well, though he was still too weak to go off to the school he’d imagined himself in since he’d picked up a flier as a child, the school he’d earned the right to attend. he spent his days homeschooling from his bedroom, his eyes becoming droopy and devoid of any light they’d held previously. though he found it challenging to stay optimistic, he remained hopeful–because what comes must go. he knew his pain would leave him, and he knew there had to be a reason behind his suffering. everything happens for a reason.

in twelfth grade, jeonghan had made a full recovery, and attended his senior year at school in person. he found himself thinking back to the three years he’d spent by himself, and his chest swelled with gratitude; despite all of the damage it’d done in the moment, he realized that everything he’d gone through had built him into something stronger than he was before. when he was handed his diploma, he realized his mother was right.

when jeonghan turned nineteen, he began attending harvard. he found himself surrounded by groups of amazing people, his mood almost never dropping–which was a huge contrast to how he’d behaved just years prior. he’d smiled wider than he knew was possible, and though he didn’t want to, in the moment he couldn’t help but remember: everything that comes must go.

when jeonghan turned twenty, he met you. your presence felt like a breath of fresh air, something that made him forget about the past and the future, allowing him to just live in the moment. as he got to know you, he’d found himself appreciating things around him more than he realized was possible, cherishing every moment for what it was instead of thinking about what it’d be when it became nothing but a memory.

when jeonghan turned twenty-one, he fell for you. loving you came easy, becoming something he’d do subconsciously, almost as if devoting himself to you was as simple as breathing. he found himself behaving as if he was a teenage boy again, giggling at the mere thought of you. he brought you flowers, ones he didn’t even know existed until he’d gone on a tangent trying to find flowers that perfectly suited you, to which he decided were red carnations.

confessing to you was nothing short of undemanding. he found himself telling you how he felt as if he was stating the obvious, as if it was something so undeniable and simple that you’d have no reason to question it. he spoke the words "i love you." in such a way that it was on par with "i'm alive right now." – something so matter-of-fact that it came straight from his heart and fell right out of his lips. when you’d accepted his feelings, and even returned them, he felt as if he’d just won the lottery. that day he decided he’d live life without worries, letting himself be happy no matter what. living would be easy for him, as long as he had you.

when jeonghan turned twenty-two, you told him you had terminal cancer.

suddenly, the phrase he’d lived by made no sense to him. everything happens for a reason? that had to be a complete lie. he thought back to what he’d always told himself, ‘everything that comes must go’, and in the moment the phrase felt like a punch to a gut rather than a subconscious reminder. he didn't want you to go, he didn’t want it to happen–and instantaneously, he felt like a child again; like a child battling their own emotions, ones which they can’t control or understand. that day, jeonghan cried himself unconscious.

it was nothing new that loving you came easy, but loving you on borrowed time felt more tortuous than enjoyable. he tried his best to ignore the fact that your light wouldn’t stay aflame for much longer, but the thought lingered in the back of his head with every glance he took.

when you were hospitalized, jeonghan visited you every day. he spent every second he could by your side, talking to you, clinging on to the idea that maybe–just maybe you could hear him. he knew this day was approaching rapidly, he knew that you didn’t have much time left, yet every night when he left the hospital, he went home and prayed. he prayed harder than he ever had before, harder than when he attended church every weekend as a child, harder than he had when his mother told him that his father had gotten into a car crash, he prayed until his hands were sore and red from squeezing each other.

the day before you died, jeonghan brought you red carnations. he’d always visited with flowers, which meant that your hospital room was nearly flooded with them; but he’d never had time to stop and get the ones he truly believed you deserved. anything other than this felt shallow and generic, but he couldn’t explain why. perhaps it was because carnations were the flowers he’d associated with you all this time, it’d become his way of expressing his love to you when you weren’t able to tell him you felt the same anymore.

on the day that you died, jeonghan felt as if a piece of him had died along with you. nothing could put into words how it felt as he held your hands, which had slowly become cold; his eyes stinging as tears pooled in his eyes and fell on to your empty, unmoving chest.

jeonghan missed you so much it was unbearable. sometimes he’d be so overwhelmed with sadness and grief it felt as if he was going to die, his chest burning as he struggled to breathe. there was no way in hell that this happened for a reason. his mother was wrong, everyone was wrong, everything he lived by was wrong, and he felt so lost that it made him question if he should even seek out help anymore.

the first time jeonghan visited your grave, it was on his twenty-third birthday. he tried to enjoy the day with his friends, which had also been your friends at some point, but he found himself wanting nothing more than to spend the day with you, even if it meant he’d really be by himself. he felt more guilt than he’d imagined as he realized how long he’d waited to visit you, though he knew it wasn’t for the wrong reasons. as jeonghan sat next to your grave, he let himself cry again, the only thing comforting him being the thought that you were there with him. he knew that he had to accept your death eventually, and that nothing in this universe could bring you back, because everything that comes must go.

that day, jeonghan brought you pink carnations.

healing wasn’t an easy process, and it didn’t get easier as he progressed in life without you. when jeonghan turned twenty-four, he rented out his first house with a friend you both shared. he adopted a cat, cut his hair, and tried his best to become a new version of him. though it was hard, and he viewed it as nearly impossible, he didn’t give up. despite how cliche and foolish it may sound, he knew you wouldn’t have wanted him to.

jeonghan knew he’d never think the same after you passed, and that proved to be true. he didn’t blame his mother, he’d never truly blame her, but he found himself so overwhelmed by his feelings that he didn’t know exactly who to point fingers at. in all honesty, if he opened his eyes, he knew that he’d find it to be nobodies fault. “some things just happen,” seungkwan had told him the day he’d cried to his best friend on the couch they’d bought together only recently, his chest heavy with guilt. “whether or not they happen for a reason doesn’t matter, what matters is that you make the best of the situation and enjoy what you have while you have it.”

spring rolled around quickly. when jeonghan had moved into his new house, he’d noticed small buds of flowers by his window, resting unborn and full of potential as they stared at him, almost expectantly. he didn’t mind, because maybe they’d grow to be something beautiful, something full of life for as long as it’d be alive. maybe they were there for a reason, one he was yet to find out. the thought made a bud of hope blossom in his chest, one much like the dormant flowers sitting almost next to him.

a week later, they blossomed into white carnations; and jeonghan allowed himself to cry once more. he knew they’d close up eventually, retreating back into their shells as the seasons changed, but he found himself thinking: ‘maybe that’s okay. they’re here right now, and that’s all that matters.’

he didn’t let it trouble him, because what comes must go–and if he’s lucky enough, maybe it’ll come back around.

#seventeen #svt #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan #seventeen jeonghan #seventeen angst #seventeen fic #svt angst #svt fic #seventeen drabbles #svt drabbles #seventeen x you #svt x you #jeonghan x you #yoon jeonghan

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danielfuckingricciardo · 10 months

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I Think This is the Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship - Daniel Ricciardo x Reader (Platonic)

Pairing - Daniel Ricciardo x Reader (Platonic)

Word Count - 2.7k

Content Warning - Swearing, sexism mention

Synopsis - The reader loses a friend, but gains one in the form of a previous foe.

Author’s Note - This one has been sat in my drafts for a while, and I honestly wasn’t sure where it was going at all, so I kinda decided to make this like a platonic fic where Daniel and the reader are just friends? Not sure how I feel about it, but I kinda like the kind of flirty banter relationship dynamic going on by the end! Let me know if you like this sort of thing, or if you prefer the ones where they fuck nasty (I’ll be back to that stuff soon, don’t worry lol)

“Go fuck yourself.” You say, and Daniel scoffs.

“But wouldn’t it be more fun if you fucked me instead?” He retorts, and you roll your eyes.

“I’m not in the mood to play these fucking games, Daniel, not right now. Just… fuck off and leave me alone.” You shout back, fighting the angry tears that had begun to form in your waterlines.

“Oh, stop playing, you know you secretly love me, you’re just too stubborn to admit it.” He says, and you sigh.

“Look, I’ve had a shit night, I just wanna go home and cry, so I really can’t be arsed to deal with your teasing bullshit right now.” You say, taking a step towards him to point your black-polished finger in his face.

It’s at this point that you see Daniel’s cocky expression drop to one of concern. At least, that’s what it looked like to you, but you couldn’t be sure. This wasn’t one of the expressions you had filed away in the section of your mind that related to Daniel. You hadn’t seen it before. You’d seen disgust, loathing, and that cocky smirk you always wanted to punch off of his face, but never concern.

The bass of the music thrummed inside your chest, and the smoke and dull red lights of the club offered you some protection as your eyes began to lose grip on your tears, sending them cascading down your cheeks.

“Just, leave me alone, yeah?” You say, your voice barely audible, before you storm out of the club and into the brisk coldness of the evening air.

You wrap your arms around your body to preserve what little warmth remained inside you. Every little hair on your body stood on end as the wind whipped around you, cooling you from the outside as your now frozen heart did the same from the inside. Your entire body felt numb. The only heat you felt was from the fresh, salty tears that dripped down your cheeks.

You hold up your arm to hail a passing taxi, but the driver sails right past you. Not deterred, you try again, only for the driver to pass you without even sparing a glance in your direction.

“Fuck. Shit. Fuck.” You yell in frustration, stamping your foot on the concrete path as a spoilt child might after being denied a shiny new toy.

You hear a whistle from behind you, and an approaching cab flashes his indicators and stops in the lay-by beside you.

You can’t help but silently curse your inability to whistle, and consider for a moment grovelling to whoever had called the cab to allow you to take it instead.

Turning around, you are met with those same sad, brown eyes you had seen for the first time in the club. Daniel had followed you outside, and had been the one to call the cab.

“It looked like you were having a little trouble with the cabbies, so I thought I’d help you out.” Daniel says, and you shoot him a quick smile in gratitude. You may not really like him, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to be seen as rude, no matter how much the sight of him made your blood boil.

“I thought I told you to leave me alone?” You say, walking beside him to approach the door of the black cab.

“It’s gonna take more than that to get rid of me, you must know that by now.” Daniel says, and you can’t help but chuckle in response.

“Oh, believe me, I know. If that was all it took I’d have been rid of you months ago. You’re like a bad penny, Ricciardo.”

“Bad penny is actually my middle name.” Daniel says, with a flash of a smile.

“Oh yeah? I thought it was ‘Danger’ or ‘I’ve got a massive cock and a hotel room five minutes from here’?”

“I’ve got a few middle names, actually. Those are… some of them.” Daniel responds, and you chuckle once again, wiping away a cold tear from your cheek.

Daniel opens the door of the cab, allowing you to slide into the seat.

“Hey, budge up.” Daniel says, poking you in the shoulder.

“You’re not coming with me.” You say, matter-of-factly.

“Oh yes I am. I can’t let you leave on your own when you’re crying and stuff.”

“Fine.” You say as you slide into the seat behind the driver.

Daniel takes the seat beside you and closes the door, allowing the cabbie to pull away and take off down the darkened street.

‘Where to?” The cabbie says, and you bite your lip.

“Fuck, I don’t know.” You say.

“Your hotel?” Daniel suggests, and you shake your head.

“Mine then.” Daniel says, “The Shard, please mate.”

The cabbie nods and returns his focus to the busy London streets.

“So, what’s with you? I’ve never seen you cry before, it’s weird.” Daniel says, and you sniff.

“I’m not crying. Not really, anyway. I’m just angry and when I’m angry my eyes like to leak.” You respond, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek.

“Fair enough. What has you so angry? I’ve made you angry a million times, and you never cried then, so this must be serious rage, yeah?” He asks, that same concerned look reappearing on his face.

“You really wanna know?” You question, quickly glancing up from your lap to briefly make eye contact with Daniel.

“A problem shared is a problem halved, right?”

“Well, oh, it’s stupid really. You’ll laugh at me.” You say, keeping your eyes locked to your hands which were positioned in your lap, picking the skin at the edge of one of your cuticles.

“I promise I won’t laugh. Swear on my life.”

“Well, if you’re swearing on your life, then you must mean it, because you really love your life.” You chuckle, glancing up to meet Daniel’s eyes once again for a second. You could tell from that one look that he was serious, he really wanted to know what was bothering you so much.

“As I said, it’s stupid, but my friend who came out to celebrate with us, she disappeared, and I found out that she left with some guy. And I’m just so pissed off because she always does this. She always abandons me and leaves me on my own in random clubs in favour of random guys who’ll probably leave her on read the next day. And to top it all off, I check my phone and she’s messaged me to say that they’re in our hotel room so I probably should find somewhere else to stay the night. Like what the fuck, right?” You say, your anger rising within you once again.

“That’s fucked up, she can’t just kick you out of your hotel room like that.” Daniel says, and you nod.

“Exactly, and I paid for the fucking room too! Like, what? And I don’t have any other friends, everyone here hates me, so it’s not like I can just crash with someone else. Usually I end up finding some seedy bar that stays open all night and sitting there till the morning. But I just don’t wanna do that anymore. I’m done. This is the last time. And if it means I officially have no friends left on this planet anymore, then that’s fine, because I realise now that she wasn’t a good friend anyway.”

“You have friends, don’t be fucking insane.” Daniel says, and you scoff.

“Oh really, do I? Like who?” You ask sarcastically.

“Like me?”

“You’re not my friend, Daniel, you hate me. And you don’t have to pretend to be my friend now that you can see how truly pathetic I am.” You say, looking up into his eyes which appear to be filled with confusion.

“You think I hate you?” He asks, a tinge of hurt in his voice.

“Well, obviously, you do. All the competition, constant teasing and backhanded compliments to the press, I see it, and I understand it. Don’t try and deny it, Daniel.” You say, giving him a sad smile.

“I will try to deny it, because it’s not true! I don’t hate you, and I never have. It was all just… banter? I thought you knew that?”

“Huh, really?” You say, and Daniel nods.

“£15.70 please mate.” The cabbie says as the car comes to a stop outside the skyscraper that Daniel called home during your team’s brief stay in London.

Daniel pays the driver and the two of you step out once again into the cold night air.

You wrap your arms around your body to keep warm as you make your approach to the entrance of the building. Daniel notices this and shrugs his jacket from his shoulders, wrapping around your own and offering you a small smile.

“Thanks.” You say, and he nods at you.

“Does this mean that all this time I thought you were just… joking back to me that you actually hated me?” Daniel asks, breaking the silence that had descended between the two of you.

“I never hated you. I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to hate you. You’re just so damn loveable, everyone seems to think the sun shines out of your arse and it’s hard to deny it does. No matter how much I really, really wanted to hate you, I just… couldn’t.” You say, and Daniel laughs.

“Well, there you go then, you don’t hate me, and I don’t hate you. I think that makes us friends, right?” Daniel asks, nudging your shoulder with his own.

“I think there’s a few steps between being enemies and being friends we skipped, but considering I’m currently severely lacking in friends, I’m willing to skip a few of ‘em.” You say with a chuckle.

“Okay, so, now that we’re friends, you wanna tell me more about what happened with that bitch who abandoned you? You don’t have to, I just think it’d be good for you to get it all off your chest.” Daniel says, stopping to take a seat on an empty bench.

You take a deep breath in and out, watching as the water vapour clouds around you in the cold night air. You take a seat beside him and he squishes against you for warmth.

“Well, where do you want to start? We’ve known each other since we were kids. Went to boarding school together. We both never really fitted in, I got bullied a lot by the other kids for being a teacher’s pet. It didn’t help that the school were always using my karting trophies as a flex, showing me off like some prized pig. She was your typical nerdy kid, was always getting picked on for it, so I used to stand up for her. But then school finished, she continued her studies and I kept going with my racing.”

You take a pause and look over at Daniel, who appears to be listening intently. He gives you a nod with raised eyebrows, urging you to continue.

“Well, I tried my hardest to keep contact with her. Whenever I was around for races I always used to invite her out with us to catch up. But it always ended the same way. She’d cop off with some guy on the team, leaving me to fend for myself in the club. I always assumed she thought that I had plenty of driver friends to hang out with, so it wouldn’t be a problem, but maybe she just didn’t care? Like I get that she didn’t get to be that crazy party girl in her teens, neither did I, but you don’t just abandon your friend for a shag like that, right? Like that’s fucked up.”

“Why didn’t you have other friends, like other drivers, I mean?” Daniel asks, and you chuckle awkwardly.

“Well, that’s a loaded question if I’ve ever heard one. I guess I still had hang-ups about not fitting in. Shit had been tough as a girl in karting, a lot of the boys used to laugh at me and make fun. So I guess I just assumed that my teammates in F3 and F2 would do the same? It was just easier to keep my distance and protect myself than risk dealing with all that shit again. And now I’m here, Red Bull’s reserve driver, the only woman in touching distance of an F1 career right now, and I’m just totally isolated. Except for you, I guess.”

“Exactly, you have me now. Fuck her, and fuck all this anxiety you’ve got going on. Shitty kids will be shitty kids, but these guys on the grid, they’re good. Didn’t you see the praise and kind words they all said when journalists asked them about you? They’re all stoked that F1 is finally taking a step in the right direction, and I’m sure they’d be just as excited to get to know you as I am.” Daniel says, and you scoff.

“Trust me, you won’t be excited to get to know me once you actually start.” You say, and Daniel shakes his head.

“Well, I’m getting to know you now, and I like you. Besides, I think I already had a good idea of who you were as a person. You were willing to get in on the whole banter thing, which I liked. At least, I assumed it was just banter. Maybe that’s on me, I should’ve talked to you first before I started this whole teasing thing with the press, made sure we were both on the same page. I’m sorry for that, for making you think I hated you. I think you’re great actually, and I’m actually really proud of you for proving those sexist teenage cuntbags wrong.” Daniel says, and your previously frozen heart begins to defrost within you.

“Well, that’s really sweet of you to say. Thank you,” You say, pausing to take a breath, “I’d like to get to know you better too. The real Daniel, that is, not the carefully cultivated media personality version of you. Speaking of, you’ve gotta teach me how to do that.”

“Do what?” Daniel asks, a bemused look on his face.

“The PR shit. I mean, you’re so good at it! Like you’re not even on the grid this year and yet you still have more support than most of the guys out there!” You say, and Daniel chuckles.

“A winning personality is not something that can be taught, it’s something you’re born with, baby. But maybe, just maybe, I can take you under my wing and coax it out of you?” He suggests, nudging your shoulder gently with his own.

“Really? So I’d be like… your apprentice?” You ask, and he nods.

“Something like that. The Luke Skywalker to my Yoda.”

“Teach me to play the PR game, you will.” You say in a poor imitation of Yoda’s voice, and Daniel cracks up.

“Film nerd.” He says, wiping away a stray tear from his waterline that had escaped during his episode of laughter.

“Hey, you made the Star Wars reference first mate!” You say, slapping him on the arm.

“Fair enough. Now lets get inside, yeah? I’m freezing my nutsack off out here.” He says, standing from the bench and offering you his arm.

You stand and take Daniel’s arm, looping your hand onto his and pressing your freezing cold hand to his own. He jumps at the cold contact on his own warm skin, pushing your hand away and flashing you a middle finger with his spare hand.

You chuckle at his reaction, returning his rude hand gesture, earning another laugh from Daniel.

“(y/n), I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” Daniel says, and you roll your eyes.

“Casablanca? Really? Now who’s the film nerd?”

“Still you, you got my reference.” Daniel replies, a smug smile on his lips.

“Touché.”

#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you

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eleanor-bradstreet · 1 year

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Love to Spare - Part 7/finale (Anthony Bridgerton x Reader; Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!Reader Benedict Bridgerton x fem!Reader Angst resolved, brief smooching, a happy ending(?) see Notes at end GIF by me Word Count: 2.6k Part 6 Masterpost Summary: Two conversations with Anthony and a life changing event.

First thing the next morning, before you had even gone downstairs for breakfast, a messenger arrived with a note from ‘A’, summoning you to his apartments. Clearly Benedict had told him about the events of last night. Shaky due to your lack of sleep and overwhelmed with your thoughts, you ignored it. At afternoon tea, he barrelled into your front hall unannounced. All it took was one dashing smile from Lord Bridgerton as he requested to speak with you privately, and your mother went flitting away in breathless, joyful anticipation.

Anthony stalked into the drawing room, eyes stern, his long dark riding coat cutting a picture of concentrated power.

“I asked for you, but you did not come.”

He may have intimidated others this way, but you had known him too long and too well to be cowed. You stuck your nose in the air. “Firstly, you cannot command my presence at your whim, and secondly, I needed time to think.”

He stood, looking impatient. “And has your thinking concluded?”

You nodded. “I believe it has. I will arrange a meeting with Sir Edgar and have it all settled.”

“Settled in that…?”

“In that we will be betrothed.”

Anthony stared at you, his expression unfathomable. You paused. You had assumed all his puffery in marching in here was to berate you for nearly marrying his brother. You had expected him to be happy with your decision, but he just looked perplexed.

“That is what you wanted to hear, isn’t it? Sir Edgar is kind and temperate, and his finances are enough to support my family. It is all thanks to you. You helped me to find a husband, as promised.” You eased your tone, expressing genuine gratitude for all he had done. As you spoke, he stripped off his coat and sat heavily on the sofa across from you.

After staring at his clasped hands for a moment, he looked up. “Benedict proposed to you.”

Here was the chastisement you had been expecting.

“Yes, I am aware. And I rejected him.” You said firmly. When he did not respond and just kept staring at you, you began to grow nervous. He was clearly so upset with you that he couldn’t speak. He must have seen your relationship with Benedict as a betrayal. Perhaps he would never forgive you. Perhaps this was the last time he would see you. The thought of losing your friend made the fear rise in your chest. You began pleading with him, rambling, desperate for his forgiveness.

“Anthony, please believe me that I did not court his affections. At least…I think I did not, and it was the last thing I expected and…”

“Why did you refuse him?” He cut you off, his voice surprisingly quiet.

“What?”

“He too is kind. While he may not be temperate in his drink, which I know does not offend you, he is temperate in his manner, and his finances are more than sufficient to care for your family. All things considered, he not only matches but outpaces Sir Edgar.” Everything in his tone and posture was matter-of-fact. What on earth was he playing at? Was he toying with you as punishment? Did he want you to invent deficiencies about his brother and relay them all to him? You were entering dangerous territory and you felt entirely lost.

Anthony leveled his eyes on yours, his words filled with gravity. “Do you want to marry him?”

Something stabbed through you. “Anthony,” you exhaled nervously. “He is your brother. You made it quite clear how you felt about such a prospect when he and I first met.”

His brown eyes continued to blaze into yours, that glare you were so familiar with. “That is not what I asked. Do you want to marry him?” Each word carried the weight of a stone.

The sadness was starting to close around your throat, the despair that made you feel torn in every direction. You remembered the taste of Benedict’s lips, the light of hope in his beautiful eyes and how it had faded when you refused him. You opened your mouth to reply, but just gaped like a fish.

“Do not lie to me,” Anthony’s voice was low and threatening. “I’ll know if you do.”

Unable to take any more of the cruel confusion he was orchestrating, you huffed. “Oh really, and how is that?”

“You have a look about you. One that I have not seen before.” His voice was still a low rumble, but you were beginning to sense a weakness in it. He leaned back in his seat, eyes searching over you at a wider angle. “Well, not from you anyway. You look at him…” Then he suddenly turned away, chewing on his lip. “...the way my mother looked at my father.”

Your last thread of control broke, and you let the tears stream down your face. Your voice shook with sobs. “Anthony, I’m sorry! It will pass. I will marry Sir Edgar and this will all fade behind us.” You knew that you were trying to convince yourself as much as reassure him, but the aching in your heart made you doubt that your feelings for Benedict would be so easily forgotten.

He turned back to face you. “You would give up your first choice for my sake?”

Despite the tearing feeling in your chest, the answer rang out instantly from your mind and your lips. “Yes.”

He leaned forward again, his brow knitted, so expressive, but you weren’t sure of what. “Why?”

“Because that is what you do for the people you love!” You spluttered, relieved to have a question you could easily answer. Anthony stiffened and blinked, and you could see tears begin to prick at his eyes.

Taking a steadying breath, you pressed on, finding your confidence. “I believe you know that kind of sacrifice very well. I loved you first, Anthony, and I have loved you longer. I would never do anything that complicated our friendship.”

He stared at you, the tears building, the silence growing thick as it stretched on for an untold length of time. You didn’t know what else to say. With his aversion to love, you weren’t sure if your declaration was the balm you had hoped it would be. If it was not sufficient for him, you had nothing else to offer.

At long last he sniffed and straightened his posture, blinking the tears back.

“Well, it will complicate things.” His tone was clipped, and you felt your heart begin to sink. “If you do not marry Benedict.”

Your breath hitched. Your ears rang. Surely you had misheard him. “What?”

“You will both become even more insufferable than you already are.” He began to relax into the cushions, his voice rising back to its usual assertive volume. “The two of you, all these weeks, mooning around and thinking no one noticed. I can’t have a single bloody conversation with my brother without it inevitably turning into his questions about you. If you were to marry someone else, the man would write a whole book of poetry describing his heartbreak and I would be forced to listen.”

Slowly, you felt something lifting inside you, realization dawning.

Anthony carried on, rambling with playful quasi-irritation. “You should have heard him when he told me about last night.” Then he pulled a dramatic face and adopted a mimicking lilt. “‘All the light has gone out of the world, brother. She is my anchor, and without her I am adrift.’ Good god.” He scoffed and shook his head.

You laughed, trembling with relief. You felt like you were glowing, joy beginning to surge through your subsiding tears. For the first time since arriving, Anthony grinned. He leaned toward you and spoke softly. “And as for you, it would be entirely irresponsible of me to see you off into a marriage knowing that you could have had another with the promise of even more happiness and security. I would not be honoring the memory of your father as I should when I owe him so much, and it would be my greatest failure as your friend.”

New tears threatened to fall, but they were not tears of sadness. You were so overwhelmed with disbelief, you could barely speak. “I thought you would never support our match.”

“I still do find it strange.” Anthony nodded thoughtfully. “I know far too much about Benedict to convince myself that he could ever be worthy of you. But I suppose if you must marry, it’s best that you marry a man who already aggravates me and over whom I have the most influence.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you and you both chuckled. He reached out and took your hands in his own. “Truly, if there was one man in the world I could trust to make you happy, it would be him. And I know I can trust you to help me keep him in line.”

“Yes, you can.” You smiled and tried to get control of your nerves. This was truly happening. He was giving you his blessing, propelling you into a life happier than you could have ever hoped for. “Anthony, are you certain?”

His grip tightened. “Y/f/n, you said you loved me.” He looked down briefly, swallowed, then looked back with his soul on full display in the warm depths of his eyes. “I love you too, and nothing would please me more than for you to be my sister. My true family, hereafter.”

You began to cry again, sinking forward and kissing his hands. Then the two of you laughed uncontrollably and you smiled so widely for so long, you thought your face might freeze that way. When you both exited the drawing room, beaming and tear-stained, your mother began to whoop in celebration. You confirmed to her that you would be married, but she remained utterly confused as you both clarified repeatedly that the groom would be Mr. Bridgerton, and not Lord Bridgerton. Regardless, she happily followed as Anthony escorted you both to Bridgerton House in his carriage, where he installed her with his mother, then left you in a room alone with Benedict, wordlessly closing the door with a stern look that you knew was for show.

Benedict looked to have had as little sleep as you, and he stood in silence, his face bloodless and confused. When you turned to him with an irrepressible smile and ran into his arms, a grin broke out across his face that rivaled the sunshine. You explained everything breathlessly, apologizing for refusing him, divulging your misgivings, and sharing Anthony’s blessing for you both. He gathered you into a desperate kiss, pulled back and laughed, then kissed you again.

You clung to his waistcoat, pulling him tight against you. You felt so buoyant with joy, you needed the weight of him to keep you rooted to the earth. Your kisses grew deeper, and you found yourself pressed back against a sofa, Benedict stepping closer between your thighs, your knees rising up to frame his waist. Then you heard your families’ voices approaching down the hall and leapt apart from each other, straightening yourselves. God above, this man could not become your husband fast enough.

---

Happily, the customary month of wedding planning passed in a blur. You met with Sir Edgar to gently inform him of your betrothal, and he took the news in the quiet, passive way he seemed to respond to everything in life. While your mothers scurried about in their joy, Benedict committed himself to establishing your home. He purchased a small stately house in Kent with an expansive study, which he then filled with copies of the books your father kept in London. He wanted you to pursue your dream and write about the law. He even enlisted the help of his sister Eloise who, he explained, ‘had nothing if not superb gifts for writing and argumentation’. She delighted at the prospect of helping you publish under a pseudonym, and promised to be your proofreader.

Most touching of all, as a wedding gift he painted a portrait of your father inspired by the one at your London home. Though he had never met the man, the new portrait was somehow an even truer resemblance, and you had it hung proudly in the center of your new study.

On your wedding day at Aubrey Hall, you were expecting to be a knot of nerves, but all you felt was incandescent happiness. Once dressed, you met Anthony in the main hall, just the two of you. He watched you, eyes shining, as you descended the stairs. You stood before him, unable to hide your smile.

“Y/f/n,” He breathed, his brow creasing with emotion. “You look so beautiful.”

You blushed. You couldn’t believe that this day had arrived. That you were getting married and were genuinely thrilled to do so. For him to share in it by your side only added to your immeasurable joy. You wanted him to experience these feelings for himself someday, and silently vowed that you would ensure he did.

Anthony continued to take in the sight of you. “I always knew that I would give away my four sisters. But I didn’t expect to give away my dearest friend.”

“And into your brother’s clutches, no less.” You quipped.

“Indeed, it is still hard to believe.” He nodded with an exaggerated sigh, then stepped toward you and took both of your hands in his. “But if you have found something to love in that madman, and it means I get to see you more often, I suppose this is a beneficial arrangement for us all.” He smiled, then his voice dropped, low and sincere. “I am happy for you.”

He squeezed your fingers lightly and you both stood in a comfortable silence together. In his beautiful brown eyes you saw all the facets of him you had known throughout the years: the boy, the viscount, the drunkard, the friend, the damaged and the angered, the supportive and the honorable. All of them pieces that you cared for, pieces that culminated in who he was that day.

You fought to restrain your tears and not ruin your appearance, but whispered, “Anthony, you are a true gentleman. Thank you for always being here for me.”

“I always shall be.” A beat of silence as his eyes held yours, then he cleared his throat and straightened. “If Benedict ever does anything to upset you, you must tell me and I will make sure retribution is swift.”

You laughed, blinking the tears away, then rolled your eyes at him. “Are you both going to behave like this throughout the entirety of my marriage? Using me as a pawn to punish and compete with one another?”

Anthony smiled broadly, pulled your arm through his, patted it and stood at your side. “Probably.”

The rest of the day was nothing but bliss. Anthony walked you through the grounds and into the gardens where your family and friends were gathered. Benedict stood, radiant at the end of the aisle beside the vicar. Anthony walked you forward proudly, placed your hand in his brother’s and wrapped his around both of yours, lingering for a moment with a soulful look. He only stepped back when Benedict shot him a wink, then they both smiled, took their places, and you wed the love of your life.

---

You first saw the boy when you were sixteen. It was loss that brought him into your home, grief that made him stumble back to your doorstep. But from that pain blossomed a quiet love, nurtured over time, which grew to entwine more hearts than your own. It brought you your husband, it bound your families together, and it transformed your best friend into the brother you always felt him to be. It was an abundant, enduring love, as steadfast as the man you found it with.

Fin.

Author's notes:

1. My overall hope for this work is that it portrays my IRL feelings for Anthony. Is he/JB 100% gorgeous/would smash? YES. But IRL me has so much in common with Anthony that I empathize with him more than I lust after him, and I just want to hug him and have him be my best friend/brother/father figure. All my romantic/lustful/dirty/filthy energy goes toward Benedict. There are so many beautiful fics for Anthony, I wanted to add my kinship kind of love for him to the collection.

2. That said, some readers have been wondering about the potential for friends-to-lovers with Anthony, so I want to add: it’s a happy ending for Reader, but for Anthony it’s unclear. You can believe that there was only ever a friendship here and Anthony is truly happy with the marriage. OR, the angstier option is to believe that Anthony was harboring some romantic love for Reader/realized he loved her during their drawing room conversation. At that point, when she is admitting she loves Benedict and calling Anthony a friend, he knows he missed his chance. So, he represses his feelings and puts everyone else’s happiness first, just like the sad dutiful Anthony we all love him for 💔 The choice is yours 😉

Tagging: @venomsvl @colettebronte @faye-tale @fiction-is-life Thank you for cheering me along the journey! And @makaylan @chaoticcalzoneranchsports to declare an end to the angst - maybe? (see note 2).

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dreeaams · 1 month

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LET ME BE CLEAR, your emotions (energy in motion) ARE A MANIFESTATION. They cannot be the cause of any of your manifestation because the only thing that causes your manifestation is your mind.

So if your mind creates your manifestation what do you mean by that, you may ask? THE THOUGHTS(4D) that you are constantly thinking and your INNER DIALOGUE(4D) are the cause of your manifestations(3D).

Thoughts and inner dialogue are the same exact thing but please stop listening to those “gurus” that say “you need to feel those feelings of happiness and gratitude for it to work or that if you feel sad or mad it won’t work out.”

THAT IS COMPLETELY FALSE because your FEELINGS are the end results/a manifestation and it came from a THOUGHT/ INNER SPEECH that you were already thinking.

Example:

I know that my SP is obsessed with me but I have that disgusting feeling in my body that he doesn’t care about me because he ghosted me 2 days ago.

1. ALL CIRCUMSTANCES ARE NEUTRAL, it doesn’t mean shit at all. YOU ARE THE ONE PUTTING A MEANING TO IT. Only you!

2. Because you don’t know that all circumstances are neutral you now say in your mind that oh my SP ghosted me for two days so now he doesn’t like me, he doesn’t give a fuck about me boohoohoo.

Stop fucking whining, bitching, and complaining! Why? BECAUSE YOU ARE THE ONE PUTTING A MEANING TO YOUR CIRCUMSTANCES!!

3. By whining, bitching and complaining you are telling yourself that that circumstance is negative and because of that stupid belief you attract more negative events. And you also tell yourself that your SP doesn’t give a fuck about you so what happens? HE DOESNT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOU.

4. What should I do instead you may ask? Great question! Know that ALL CIRCUMSTANCES ARE FUCKING NEUTRAL, ALL OF IT. Once you understand that, know that your emotion doesn’t mean shit at all because that too it is the results of your thoughts. Your emotions are neutral too they have no meaning unless you put a meaning to it.

5. In manifestation (the law of assumption to be precise) you are the one creating your own rules only you so if you think a certain way, then you are always right I promise you. Make up your own fucking rules and stop listening to all those stupid techniques that makes you more depressed and anxious.

6. Keep telling yourself that your SP is obsessed with you, “Every circumstance is leading me to my manifestation NO MATTER WHAT” you are the most important person on this earth for him, he thinks about you 24/7. Don’t forget that your imagination is the only reality and that what you see in the 3D it is a reflection.

Just understand that you are the operant power, you manifest every single second of your life with the thoughts that you think and your inner dialogue. You are the one creating the rules I promise you your life will complete turn around.

If you have more questions ask me and go watch her videos they are so fucking good she changed my life 😭 love you girlies follow me for more❤️

youtube

#law of assumption #loassumption #loa tumblr #manifestation #manifesting #god #self love #inner knowing #inner thoughts #inner world #Youtube

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delfiore · 1 year

Text

only make you cry

pairing: florence pugh x fem!reader

synopsis: flo isn’t ready to be in a new relationship after her last one ended by means of public scrutiny.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: hello. um, ik it’s been a while, but school and work has just been so hectic that i barely even have time to rest. i was also dealing with some things too, but alas am back. i hope y’all haven’t forgotten abt me and i’m hoping to get back into writing again soon because it’s fun and not because it’s sth i have to do. so ya, enjoy this angsty, kinda smutty but not rly fic i whipped out :3

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

She remained untouched.

By the responsibilities she had to bare as a price of only doing what she loved to do.

By the lousiness of the world waiting to gouge out any imperfections so that it may discredit her just for the sake of it.

By the mask-like cynicism she had come to develop just to survive and not get swallowed whole.

She remained untouched by you.

Yet, the desire to reach out and touch her, despite her serene appearance—face pressed into the pillow, eyes comfortably shut, lips slightly parted—was beyond any reasoning that you could muster. You simply desired her, to touch her, to feel her, the way you did merely hours before.

The sky was beginning to brighten, signaling another day. You didn’t want to leave, you only wanted to reach out and touch her, to kiss her, and tell her that you were here to stay. But you knew you couldn’t.

She stirred, finally. Florence was a quiet waker, with a sharp inhale and a purse of her lips, eyelids slowly peeling open to reveal two emerald gems, that usually start out more hazel and golden in the morning. You gave her a small smile. “Good morning”.

“What time is it?” She asked.

You hummed, reaching back toward the stand for your phone. “8:37”, you had checked ten minutes prior too.

You watched her as she willed herself to rouse, hunching over the side of the bed, like she was putting the weight of the world she left by the bed back on her shoulders. You reached over, and brushed her spine with the back of your hand. You thought you felt a split second in which she found comfort in it, but it was gone too soon when she stood up and headed for the bathroom.

You always observed Florence. You liked to admire the person that she was, watching this phenomenon of a human being do the most mundane tasks, like cooking an omelette or watering a plant. It made you feel special, being able to be in her presence made you feel phenomenal. She tended to have that effect on people, not just you. You were just lucky you got to witness it behind closed doors.

“Could you feed Billie, please?” You loved when she included you in her routines. You would give her a kiss on her jaw and a gentle caress of her hips in gratitude in passing her.

Sometimes when you’re lucky, like now, she would grab you, and kiss you deep with a sigh, her eyes lustful and sultry when they gaze into yours after.

It started a few weeks prior, the sex, and the mingling, months earlier than that. It was at an after-party you were expected to attend, that Flo also happen to be there. There was a certain glow to her, something that made her seem more mature than the last time you saw her whilst shooting Black Widow. The short brunette hair, the nose ring, it was different, but it all suited her.

“Y/N?! Christ, is that you?!”

You started hanging out again, just like you did whilst shooting the movie and a little while after that before your respective schedules pulled you apart. It was as if no time had passed.

She cooked for you the way she did, a drink on the side and occasionally dancing to music that hyped her up. Then one day, she confided in you. She told you that she and her boyfriend had broken up.

“It was a few months ago,” she said with a sad smile, “the pressure just got too much. We’re friends, though.”

“I’m sorry.” Were you an asshole for leaping on the inside? You couldn’t tell her how you felt three years ago because she was already in a relationship, especially when Zach was a good man, and she was happy too.

Then one night, she kissed you.

It was after a bottle of wine (or two), and you both were on her couch. You felt bold, and your hand ended up over her thigh, feeling the softness of her skin. Her laughter had died down, only breathy giggles now from her plump lips, her intense gaze lighting fires in the pit of your stomach. And before long, she was straddling you and desperately attempting to pull your shirt off.

“I’m going on a trip next week with some mates,” she told you, tickling the back of your neck with her arms resting around it, “come with me?”

You could never say no to her, never when she holds you like this. But alas, you were just messing around.

Ibiza was a nice change of pace from the bustling city; it was sunshine and blue sky as far as you could see during the day, then parties and drinks until the early hours in the morning.

You liked that she knew when to have fun, but not too much to let herself go. She always seemed in control. Her friends were welcoming of you, but you weren’t free of the teasing comments.

“She seems lovely,” one of her friends said, once you had left to the bar. You’d just make out what she said. “Where’d you find her?”

“We met on-set,” Flo answered.

“Good for you, mate. She’s always following you around like a lost puppy, it’s cute.”

A small laugh erupted from Florence’s chest, and you felt something churn in your stomach. You took the drinks from the bartender with a small ‘thank you’, and returned to the group.

You handed Olive her drink, then Flo hers before kissing her cheek. “Your dry martini.”

It was only after you had come back from another party that night, that you thought about it again.

“You okay?” She mumbled, peppering kisses on your bare shoulder, her hand roaming your body.

The thing was, you didn’t mind being her lost puppy. You were too devoted to care.

The media was started to catch up. Pictures of her and you during your sun-soaked holiday started to make headlines, at first because two Marvel stars were seen vacationing together. But then fans began to speculate when more handsy pictures began to surface (a failed attempt by your publicist to keep things quiet), and you suddenly felt the pressure. It was in particular the pictures of you and her splashing each other in the water that did it.

“People need to get a job, christ,” you sat by the island scrolling through Twitter on the private account you made for the sole purpose of lurking.

Florence let out a small laugh as she chopped a bell pepper in half. “Let them talk, hm? We don’t need to concern ourselves with it.”

“It’s a bit difficult to mind your business when it’s shoved in your face every time you open your phone,” you huffed through your nose, extending your foot toward where Billie had chosen to sit by your side to taunt the pup.

“It’s not like you to care about what people think. What changed?”

“I don’t know, I just don’t like people butting into my relationships, that’s all.”

“Well,” she said so casually, “we’re not exclusive or anything, so . . .”

You didn’t know what to say. Billie seemed to have picked up on the awkwardness too, and trotted away to find her bed for a nap.

“Y/N,” she said, but you didn’t look up, “you know we’re just messing about, right?”

“Of course,” you said, shrugging, “it’s what we agreed upon the first time. What? You think I’m in love with you or something?”

“You better not be,” she laughed as you made your laugh over to her side.

“Why not?” You mirrored her laugh, and snaked your arms around her waist.

“‘Cause it’ll complicate everything,” Flo said lowly, “and I don’t like things to be complicated.”

“Alright,” you nodded, taking her chin in your fingers. “Well, I’m not, so.” You pecked her lips.

You didn’t know you could feel the kind of isolation like what you felt when Flo went away. She had gone back to England to be with her family, leaving you all alone in this god-awful town, in Los Angeles, the city of liars and pretenders. You thought you might have become one too.

It was easier said than done, and you thought you could do it. You thought you could be content with just being a fuck, but it was never that easy. You stopped seeing anyone properly ever since you started knowing Flo, and that was three years ago. You knew it was a futile effort to wait, but you waited anyway.

“My nan just gave me this amazing apple pie recipe. I’m gonna make it when I get back,” you let her ramble on FaceTime as you attempted to do work on your laptop.

“Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Your nan’s pie recipe,” you replied, turning towards the camera, “can’t wait to try it.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” your voice was started to growing harsher, “‘s fine.”

“Doesn’t sound like it,” she said, “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said firmly, “please leave it alone, Flo.”

You didn’t like the way you sounded. You were so harsh to her. A quick glance towards the screen told you she was taken aback by your response, maybe a little hurt too. It was a mistake.

“I have to go, got some work to do,” you sighed, swallowing the lump in your throat, “I’ll call you later.”

“Okay,” Flo said, so quietly you almost didn’t catch it. You ended the call before you or her could say anything else.

You sunk back into your chair, and finally let the tears flow and you held your face in your palms.

Hours later, you were clutching your phone, staring at the screen showing your messages with her, trying so hard to say something, anything. The silence was brutal, but it was one you caused yourself. You didn’t want to bother her, but you couldn’t stand it any longer.

Please don’t be upset with me, I was an asshole.

I can’t stop thinking about you all the fucking time.

I think I have feelings for you.

Sorry about earlier. Work is stressing me out.

Mere minutes later, you received a photo message as a response. Your breath gets caught in your throat when you opened it to see what it was. “For your troubles ,” it read, and it was a picture of her in her underwear in bed.

You leaned back and exhaled a heavy breath, as your hand slowly crept down your body underneath your pants.

But it wasn’t the same. You needed her with you, under you, above you, close to you. You wanted to hold her as you came, as you have been lately, hoping she would feel the affection in return.

You counted down the days that you would be meeting her in New York. She had to do press there for a couple of days, and you agreed to spend some time with each other before she returned to the UK for more press. Your manager wasn’t happy when you decided to book your own ticket after she had refuses to book you one because it wasn’t for ‘professional purposes’.

The hotel you booked was close to hers, just by accident, but you decided to hire a cab to bring her over anyway. You had been waiting patiently when she knocked on your door at around 10 at night.

“Hi,” you said softly, walking backwards to let her in.

“Hi,” she replied, tugging at the back of your neck and kicking off her boots, “I missed you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, couldn’t stop thinking about you, and this,” you let her explore your body because you had been waiting for her to do so for so long.

You collapsed next to her with a heavy sigh, looking over. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes closed and lips parted, her chest rose up and down. She looked so pure like an angel, but also sinful like the devil. Her eyelids peeled open, and her eyes had turned a deep green when she looked over at you.

She was perfect, and you were enraptured by her in every way.

So you captured her lips in a slow kiss. Low hums bubbled in her throat, as she snaked an arm around your waist.

“I love you,” it came out as the fainted whisper. You froze. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“What?” You breathed out.

“I said I love you,” she repeated, locking you in with kisses along your jaw.

“No,“ you pulled away, shaking your head vehemently, “no, you don’t, Flo. Don’t say shit like that.”

“What the fuck?” Why was she offended? “Y/N?”

“You can’t just say stuff like that without any consequences,” you didn’t mean to snap, but you were pacing around too, “we agreed to just fooling around.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. Why are you so pissed about this?”

“Because you’re being unfair!” You exclaimed. “You don’t love me, but I love you, Flo! I love you. And this, all of this is so unfair.”

“Then why did you agree to it?” She frowned.

“Because—“ there was a lump growing in your throat, “because having some of you is better than nothing.”

“God, Y/N,” Flo sat up, and put her hand in her hands, the sheets barely covering her bare chest. “We should have never done this.”

“So you regret it?”

“No, but I wouldn’t have agreed to it if I knew it was so agonizing for you. Like shit, what the hell do you want from me, Y/N?!”

You stood at the foot of the bed, your fists clenching and relaxing. You felt so small. The light from outside the window scarred her face.

“I want you,” you said defeatedly, “I want you to love me the way I love you.”

She looked at you incredulously, “how long have you had feelings for me?”

You looked away. “I don’t know, like ever since we met I felt something. I just never said anything.”

You heard her grumble under her breath. “I-I can’t right now, Y/N. There are things that I still need to work on. It was really hard where I left off with my last relationship.”

“I know,” you took a seat at the edge of the bed, “I’ll wait for you, until you’re ready.”

“I can’t ask you to wait for me.”

“I’ve been waiting for three years,” you smiled sadly, “I can wait a little more.”

You watched her as she wordlessly got up and gathered her clothes to put them back on. You wanted to speak up, but you could only watch like a ghost.

“Thank you, Y/N, for everything you’ve done for me,” she held your hand, and stroked your cheeks tenderly. “I have never taken you for granted, ever. And yes, I do love you.”

She leaned down to kiss your forehead before heading for the door. You felt the tears welling up, but you spoke anyways.

“When you’re ready, you know how to reach me.”

There was a hint of a smile before Florence turned to the door. When it closed, you felt the stillness of the room, void of the rustling of the sheets when she would turn to the side, her quiet hums of a melody she couldn’t get out of her head, the click of her lighter as she goes to light her cigarette. It was you, and your own sounds now, devoid of bliss, devoid of her.

#florence pugh x reader #florence pugh imagines #florence pugh imagine #florence pugh x you #florence pugh angst

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9800sblog · 7 months

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hiii! can you do jamal musiala as a bf? or how he is in love?

jamal musiala tarot reading

how he acts when he catches feelings for someone

do I have his energy permission to do and share this reading? 6 of pentacles (to me, this card represents fanservice)

crushing on someone

high priestess reversed, 10 of swords, the hermit reversed

he's either never really had feelings for someone or he's got 0 GAME. he's the type to ignore people the more he likes them, he doesn't have control over his feelings, they take the best of him, he might be scared of them, so he doesn't listen to them. really the type to pray and hope he doesn't catch feelings. he seems to be the type to do silly things that makes him embarrassed later and/or think no one will like him for real. he just acts cold/ignores them and does embarassing things, try not to think of the person, maybe the type to "where my hug at" or compare heights, yeah... so dreamy

as a boyfriend

the sun, 8 of cups, 9 of cups reversed

the person becomes the center of his life, he's a pretty jealous guy, he shows major exclusivity and favoritism, he expects the same in return. he might prefer partners who are high demand. he becomes super confident in comparison to the early stages of the dynamic. will do anything at all for the partner, including ending any contact with other people, he'd make sure the person knows there is no cheating, he makes 0 space for side pieces. probably the type to stop hanging out with and start ignoring friends to make time for the person 😭 he really wants to help the person with their emotional troubles, listen to any complaints and gossips, carry their stuff, be rude to those that make his person insecure. he really opens himself to positivity, even if his life is objectively really sad, he doesn't care, he's happy to be alive because of his partner. happy like a kid, very much a romantic comedy scene.

one of his main love languages is probably gift giving, he may not really know how to express those feelings of gratitude and happiness otherwise. he is super attentive to details, will prepare ahead of time and go all out. he doesn't really need much in return, a small thank you of appreciation would do. this person would be super special to him, and he'd let them know he appreciates and pays attention to everything, not really expecting anything but loyalty in return. he may have to leave them often because of work and other things in his life, but he's the type to give small amounts of love throughout the day/week/month, so they don't feel unnoticed or alone even he isn't physically around.

#tarot #jamal musiala #celebrity tarot reading #celebrity readings

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lovergirlanna · 5 months

Text

Once Bitten And Twice Shy

What Christmas Is like with Heizou + Childe

Gender Neutral!

...Merry Christmas And A Happy New Year...

Heizou -

Heizou never looked forward to the lead up to Christmas as it always seemed to be the busiest period for the detective and the detective agency as a whole. He also hated the weather which came with the period too. As he had complained about it multiple times before. It is quite clear, he prefers the warmer climates of the year.

Further more due to his work the lead up to Christmas is often stressful and puts him on edge as you has noticed often noticing the changes in his daily routine: less sleep, more paperwork and putting work before his own personal needs. It was sad seeing your own Boyfriend waste away like this as you has told him multiple times that his work could wait and that he didn't need to pressurise himself into doing everything at once.

But there was a few things Heizou enjoyed about the festive period and one of those things where finally getting rid of his work for a day or two to spend quality time with you, after all you are his lover. He may not vocally say it aloud he appreciates you so much, he'll often end up apologising for getting caught up in his paperwork by giving you gifts especially since it's in time for the festive period.

"I'm so sorry my love" he apologised nuzzling his cheek into the crook of your neck leaning his body against yours almost like a kitten whom hadn't been given enough attention, classic Heizou.

"I'll make it up to you I promise!" he said determined to do so, laughing you shook your head "just you being here is enough my detective." a gasp escaped Heizou's lips, shaking his head a pout replaced his smile wrapping his arms around you. "No! I will make it up to you..ah- I know!" The detective rummaged through his pockets eventually pulling out his wallet. "We can go to the market, I'll buy you anything you want!"

How clueless could this detective be? He began to rant about how how he'll make it up to you before you cupped his cheeks with your hands making him look at you. "oh Heizou, the only thing i want right now is for you to be happy"

Childe -

Childe absolutely adored the idea of spending Christmas with you. Even though he was away on missions quite frequently he always seemed to bring back plenty of gifts for you around the festive period. This was his way of showing his gratitude and appreciation.

Often is he isn't back in time for Christmas due to being in another place in Teyvat he'll send you letters apologising towards not being able to spend the festive season with you, however this is most unlikely as Childe makes sure he is back in time for Christmas

Another thing he adores is seeing you on Christmas day opening all the gifts he had gotten you during his travels and missions with the fatui. Childe also thrives in the feeling of being away from his work environment even if it's just for a short period of time.

"You've gotta' open this one next love," Childe chuckled holding another gift in his hands, his signature goofy smile on his lips.

"You honestly didn't need to get me all these gifts" you chuckle pinching his cheek in a playful manner, a joyful laugh left his lips as he pulled you closer to him.

"You honestly deserve so much more that this darling"

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miguelswifey04 · 9 months

Note

hi! first off, i want to say that i LOVE your writing! always a joy to read.

if it’s not too out of your comfort zone, may i please request a miguel x afrolatina f!reader where they find out that their daughter is embarrassed to speak spanish due to bullying by some peers at school. miguel and reader comfort and reassure her that her culture is nothing to be ashamed of and to never feel like she needs to hide a part of herself to please others

YES!! i love this so so much <3 i’m not sure if i’m considered afro-latina but i am mexican and black sooo i felt this so so much 😭.!!

miguel o’hara x afrolatina! f! reader

summary: your daughter is embarrassed to speak spanish because she is getting bullied at school by her peers but you and miguel give her words of encouragement and step up to make her know she should never feel ashamed or hide her true self.

miguel and you sat at the kitchen table, a worried expression shared between you as you noticed the heaviness in your daughter's eyes. her usual vibrant spirit seemed to be dampened, and you knew something was amiss.

slipping her hand into yours, you softly asked, "is everything okay, mi amor?"she sighed, her voice barely above a whisper. "mami, papi, i..i don't know how to say this, but... i’m embarrassed to speak spanish at school because—i’m getting b-bullied for it…"

your heart wrenched with a mix of sadness and understanding. you exchanged a knowing glance with miguel, both of you silently vowing to provide the love and support your daughter needed.

pulling her close, miguel gently spoke, "mi hija, your culture, your language, and your heritage are beautiful. they should never make you feel small or ashamed. speaking spanish is a part of who you are, and we should celebrate it."

you added, "no debes sentirte avergonzada, mi cielito. tu cultura es un tesoro y no hay ninguna razón para ocultarla. sigue siendo tú misma y nunca te olvides de cuánto te amamos."

her eyes filled with tears, a mix of relief and gratitude, as she realized she wasn't alone in navigating this complex situation. miguel and you were there by her side, ready to support her every step of the way.

over the following days, the three of you worked together to boost your daughter's confidence. you encouraged her to speak spanish at home, creating environments where she felt safe to embrace her culture without judgment or fear.

miguel also reached out to the school, addressing the issue with the teachers and administrators. together, you emphasized the importance of celebrating diversity and educating the students about multiculturalism.

with time, your daughter slowly regained her confidence and found her voice once again. she began to speak spanish with pride, drawing strength from the love and support of her family and community.

as she grew more comfortable in her own skin, she blossomed, becoming a role model for others who felt pressured to hide their culture. miguel and you watched with pride as she embraced her heritage, knowing that she would go on to make a positive impact on the world.

in the face of adversity, your family stood strong, always reminding each other about the importance of self-acceptance and celebrating the diversity that makes each person unique. you created a loving and nurturing environment where your daughter could thrive, never feeling the need to hide a part of herself to please others.

in the end, your daughter's journey taught all of you the power of resilience, love, and the importance of embracing one's own culture and heritage without hesitation or shame. the bond between you grew stronger, as did your dedication to supporting and uplifting one another.

translation:

spanish; "no debes sentirte avergonzada, mi cielito. tu cultura es un tesoro y no hay ninguna razón para ocultarla. sigue siendo tú misma y nunca te olvides de cuánto te amamos."

english: “you shouldn't feel embarrassed, my darling. your culture is a treasure and there is no reason to hide it. it's still yourself and never forget how much we love you.”

tags 🏷️!! @kairiscorner @emiemiemiii @sabcandoit @obi-mom-kenobi @meeom

#spiderman atsv #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel o'hara #atsv x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #🌱 lin writes #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x y/n #♡´･ᴗ･`♡ lin answers #lin’s asks #miguel o’hara x afrolatina! reader

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