#probably my longest from start to completion work

[pairofshoes1]

where is this slugcat going?

[supernovafics]

𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 4k words

summary: in which you get stuck in a bathroom with the one person you can’t stand

warnings: enemies to lovers, scoops ahoy era steve, explicit language, a few mentions of blood, the tiniest bit of angst

author’s note: was thinking about enemies to lovers with steve and then this happened 🫶🏾

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The second you closed the bathroom door behind you, you thought about how stupid this entire night was. 

You examined your shirt; the red stain looked a lot worse than you expected, and the material was already sticking to your skin in the worst possible way. You silently cursed the random guy who bumped into you and didn’t even apologize for spilling his entire drink on you. 

You pulled off your shirt and set it on the sink, leaving you in just your bra. As you went to pull a towel off the rack, someone pushed open the door. They rushed into the bathroom and closed the door behind them, and didn’t notice that you were already in there until they turned around. 

And you didn’t register who it was until he was facing you too. 

Steve Harrington, also known as the bane of your existence, and it had been that way since Sophomore year of high school; ever since you two were paired up on an English project and you ended up doing all of the work for it. That wasn’t enough to make you hate him, but when it happened again at the end of the year for History class, that changed. From then on out, he annoyed you to no end. He was always trying to charm his way through everything, but you saw through all of the “King Steve” bullshit. Everyone seemed to love him, but you felt the complete opposite. 

You didn’t even know that he had also been at this party. 

The words, “Steve, what the hell are you doing?” were on the tip of your tongue, but then you noticed the gash above his left eyebrow.

“Oh my god, you’re bleeding,” You said, turning away from him immediately. You grabbed one of the grey hand towels off the rack and tossed it in his direction. “I can’t look at you right now.”

Steve laughed a bit. “So you’re scared of blood. Got it.”

He was completely right, and it was probably obvious how right he was, but it felt like second nature to deny anything and everything he said. “That’s not true.”

“Oh, okay, yeah,” He said, the sarcasm in his tone was almost too clear, and it made you want to drown yourself in the bathtub. “So you’re just actively avoiding eye contact with me for fun?” 

“Not looking at you is actually one of my favorite hobbies because whenever I do look at you, it makes me nauseous.” 

“Ha ha, good one,” He said dryly, and you could practically hear him rolling his eyes. 

“So, who beat you up?” You asked. There was the smallest hint of an amused smile on your face that you were certain would've made Steve roll his eyes again if you were facing him.  

He scoffed. “Okay, saying ‘beat up’ is a fucking stretch.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Sorry for barging in. I didn’t know you were in here,” He said, changing the subject, and for the time being, you let him do so. “There was a line for the bathroom downstairs, so I came up here.” 

You knew that he was telling the truth. The bathroom downstairs did have the longest line ever, so that was why you headed upstairs— bypassing the handwritten sign that said do not go upstairs— and went into the first bathroom you could find. 

“I’ll leave,” You heard him say from behind you. 

You nodded. “Good.”

Him leaving shouldn’t have taken longer than a second or two, but then there was a weird sound that you couldn’t fully decipher— it sounded like something hit the floor— and Steve let out a quiet, “Oh, fuck.”

“What happened?”

“Um, the doorknob fell off.” 

“What?”

Finally, you turned around and saw the silver door knob on the floor, which Steve picked up and placed on the sink counter.  

“Shit,” You said as you walked over to the door and started banging on it, hoping that someone would hear the noise and come help, and Steve joined you and started doing the same. 

However, it quickly proved to be pointless when you realized just how loud the music was downstairs. You could hear the faint bass of whatever pop song was playing through the shut door. 

You sighed after a minute of hopeless banging. “No one’s gonna hear us.”

You finally met Steve’s eyes, specifically the hand towel that he had pressed above his left one. You could see a little bit of blood on the towel, but it surprisingly didn’t bother you too much. 

Steve’s eyes, however, were not on yours and were instead trailed a little downward. 

In the midst of him rushing into the bathroom, you’d forgotten to grab the towel, and you especially forgot that you were just standing in front of him with only your bra and jeans on. 

You crossed your arms over your chest to get him to stop staring at your boobs. “Seriously?”

“Sorry,” He mumbled and turned his gaze in the other direction. 

With a huff, you finally grabbed a towel to wrap around your shoulders, and then you sat down on the white tiled floor. You leaned back against the bathtub, and after a moment of hesitation, Steve sat down with you.

Things became quiet for a few moments, and then you looked at him and pointed at where the towel was pressed against his forehead. “Let me see it.”

He gave you an amused look. “You sure you’re not gonna pass out?”

“Good one. You’re so hilarious,” You deadpanned. “Just let me see. I wanna make sure you’re not gonna bleed out sitting next to me right now.”

Steve relented and pulled the towel away from his face. The wound wasn’t actively bleeding anymore, which made it easier to look at it, but seeing the dried blood around it still kinda did something to your stomach. 

“Okay,” You took a breath and looked away. “You’re not bleeding anymore, which is good. And it doesn’t even look that bad. Just a cut.”

Steve let out a laugh. “You literally sound like you’re about to throw up.”

“Shut up,” You glared at him and then changed the subject before he made fun of you further. “So, do you finally wanna tell me who beat you up, or is the story too embarrassing?”

He sighed. “I saw that guy spill his drink on you, and I went over to him saying that he should find you and apologize— I might’ve yelled it at him. And he pushed me for yelling at him, and I pushed him back, and then he pushed me even harder into a stupid coat rack, which cut me.”

“Why would you do that?” You asked, eyes furrowing at his explanation. “We hate each other.”

“That doesn’t mean that I wanna watch a random guy be a dick to you,” Steve answered, and before you could process him actually being nice to you for the first time in a long time, he followed up with, “That’s my job.” 

You promptly rolled your eyes. “You’re so annoying.” 

Steve only gave you a condescending smirk in response and put the hand towel back on his forehead. 

You stood up. “There’s gotta be bandaids in here.” 

You started looking in the medicine cabinet first, which didn’t have them, so you then went to the drawer under the sink. Every few moments, you had to readjust the towel around your shoulders because it kept slipping, which made looking through everything a lot more annoying. 

“Here,” Steve said, interrupting your search. You turned and looked down at him as he pulled off the navy blue jacket he was wearing and handed it over to you. 

“Thanks,” You mumbled, putting it on and zipping it all the way up.

You continued looking in the drawer and found a few stray bandaids, and one of them looked big enough to cover Steve’s cut. You grabbed the towel that had just been wrapped around your shoulders and turned on the sink, wetting a piece of it.   

When you shut it off and turned to look down at Steve again, you thought about how you were going to do this. And then you realized that the easiest way to do it would have to be the most intimate. 

“Put your legs out,” You told him, and he looked at you in confusion for a second, but then understood what was happening and did what you said. 

“Don’t make this weird,” You said as you settled yourself in his lap, knees on either side of him and pushing into the tiled floor. 

“Wasn’t planning on it,” He responded and pulled the towel away from his head. 

You first cleaned the wound, wiping away the dried blood, and then you patted his skin with the dry part of the towel and put the bandaid on. You weren’t entirely sure why you were doing this for him, but it just felt like the right thing to do. 

You shifted off his lap when you were done and put both towels in the tub, so you didn’t have to look at them. 

Things became quiet, and you hated the silence, so you felt like you had to say something to break it. 

“So, what are your plans for the summer?” 

Steve scoffed immediately, and you looked at him. 

“What? I can’t ask normal questions?” 

“No, because I know coming from you, that’s not just a ‘normal question.’”

You stared at him, completely confused because you didn’t understand what he meant, and then it hit you.  

“There’s no way you’re still sensitive about the whole summer school thing from two years ago.”

He gave you an annoyed look. “It was your fault that I had to go to summer school.” 

It had been because of the History project. You told your teacher about Steve’s complete lack of help on it, which was a part of the final, and he failed the class and was sent to summer school because of it. After that summer, it was pretty obvious that he disliked you just as much as you disliked him. 

“You deserved it,” You told him. “The project sucked because you did absolutely nothing to help me and I refused to get a bad grade because of you.” 

This was the first time you two were actually talking about it, instead of just sharing withering looks and annoyed eye rolls like you two did when school started back in September.  

“You know I’m right,” You mumbled instead of keeping things silent for the rest of the time you two were forced to be in here together, like you maybe should’ve. 

“You are right.”

“Holy shit,” You finally looked at him again. “I wish I could go outside and check if pigs are flying because I never thought I’d see the day where Steve fucking Harrington admitted he was wrong.” 

He scoffed at your words, which sounded more like a laugh, as he shook his head at you. 

“You’re not some saint, though,” He said. “I saw the look on your face when we first got paired up for that English project. You thought I was an idiot.”

“No, I didn’t think you were an idiot. I just thought that you were like every other jock…” You trailed off as you thought about your words. “Okay, yeah, maybe I thought you were an idiot. But, you didn’t do anything to prove me wrong, though.”

“Why would I want to?”

You had an answer ready to go, but then you realized that he had a point. If the tables had been turned, you wouldn’t have wanted to prove anything to him either. Spitefully, you probably would’ve ended up doing the same thing he did to you. 

“I’m sorry,” You said after a moment. “And I don’t think you’re an idiot, honestly.”

“You don’t have to lie. You and my parents share the same thoughts.”

“No, I’m serious. Being bad at school doesn’t make you an idiot, it just makes you…” You tried to think of the best way to finish your statement. “Bad at school.”

“Wow, very profound,” Steve joked. 

You rolled your eyes at him, but also couldn’t help but smile a little. 

“I’m sorry too,” He told you, and hearing him finally say that slightly surprised you. “I should’ve helped you on those projects.”

You sighed as you crossed your legs under you. “I finally get why you didn’t. I was an asshole for judging you.” 

“Still,” Steve responded. “Making you do everything was a shitty thing to do.” 

You shrugged as you said your next words. “Honestly, none of it even matters now. We graduated. All that shit’s in the past now.” 

Steve hummed. “So, we’re finally agreeing on a truce after we graduated?”

“Yeah, seems like it,” You laughed a little. “Unless you wanna keep this stupid vendetta going through our twenties and until we’re both separately married with kids and we can pit them against each other too?”

“You paint a very vivid picture,” Steve gave you an amused smile. “But no, I agree with this truce.”

You nodded and smiled back. “Nice.”

Once again, things became quiet, and you looked away from him. You silently wondered how long you two had been stuck in here. Apparently, long enough for things to actually become civil between you two. 

“I’m working at the new mall they opened for the summer,” Steve said, answering your question from earlier. “Ice cream shop.”  

“Fun,” You said and actually meant it. “I won’t be doing anything until college starts in the fall.”

“Where are you going?”

“The community college for two years to save money, and then hopefully transfer to the University of Chicago.” 

“That’s nice.”

From there, the conversation was normal. It became two people who kind of knew nothing about each other, finally learning things that friends knew about one another. Although calling Steve your friend felt like a stretch, and like you were getting way too ahead of yourself. 

After tonight, whenever you and he were finally set free from this bathroom, you weren’t sure that you two would ever have another conversation. Just because you two agreed on a truce didn’t mean that you would now be friends. You had a feeling that you'd end up going your separate ways once you were out of here. 

However, in this moment, you felt entirely too comfortable, and the conversation moved so easily that it felt like you were in some pretend world where you and Steve had been friends forever— the conversation ended up in a place where you two were playfully bantering and laughing and talking about nonsense. 

Your eyes practically lit up when Steve told you the most random tidbit that intrigued you probably too much. “Show me.”

He shook his head with a laugh. “No. I shouldn’t have even brought it up.”

“You can’t say that you have a scar on the side of your ribs that looks like a smurf and not show me,” You said and shifted closer to him. “I need proof.”

He laughed again, clearly amused by your current antics. He didn’t stop you from practically settling yourself in his lap to get close to him and grab at his shirt, but he did keep lightly shooing your hands away. “For someone who almost threw up seeing the cut on my forehead, you really wanna see this scar.” 

“Scars and blood are two entirely different things,” You told him, and then once again reached out to grab the ends of his shirt. His hands found your wrists, and you gave him a look. “Are you lying about this little league scar?”

“I’m not. I just think you’re gonna see it and not agree with me.”

“Let me be the judge of that, Harrington.”

You weren’t sure why you cared so much to see it. You honestly didn’t even like The Smurfs all that much. 

Steve let go of your wrists and finally lifted his shirt so that you could see the scar. 

“Hmm,” You said, tilting your head and examining it for a second. You could make out the typical smurf hat and somewhat of the head. “Honestly, I do kinda see the resemblance.”

“Thank you,” He said as he pulled his shirt back down. 

In the midst of all the playful arguing, you didn’t even realize that you had maneuvered yourself onto his lap. And in this moment, with everything calmed down and back to normal, you should’ve shifted off of him. There was absolutely no reason to stay in his lap— you weren’t putting another bandaid on him, and you were no longer looking at his scar. But you didn’t move. 

Maybe you were waiting for Steve to say the words, to break this moment with a playful laugh or joke, and push things right back to how they just were. 

But he didn’t say anything. 

For the first time in the last hour— at least, you assumed it had been an hour— things between you two were comfortably quiet. 

Inwardly, you could admit that you really liked being this close to him, and when one of his hands found your hip, keeping you planted exactly where you were, you knew he felt the same. 

It was a silent conversation playing out in the look you two shared. Both of you simultaneously daring and practically begging the other to close the small bit of distance between you two.  

And then it was as if your and his resolve broke at the exact same time because you both moved in quickly. Somehow, though, your lips met softly in the middle. 

You had never thought about kissing Steve Harrington, but you suddenly felt so certain that any thoughts about it wouldn’t have lived up to the real thing. 

The kiss was damn near perfect. It started soft and sweet, as if you both were just trying to test the waters, and then it quickly shifted into something that was the opposite of innocent. Your hands settled in the hair at the nape of his neck, and both of his grabbed at your hips, slipping beneath his jacket that you were wearing. He lightly squeezed your skin, which made you gasp into his mouth and gave him the perfect opportunity for his tongue to find yours. 

Aside from thinking about how phenomenal this all felt, your mind was effectively blank. You didn’t think about what this would or wouldn’t mean, or why it all felt so weirdly right. 

When you pulled back to catch your breath and your forehead fell against his, it was then that you noticed that the music had stopped. But neither of you got up to bang on the door again in hopes that someone would finally hear you two asking for help. 

“That shouldn’t have happened,” Were the first words that fell from your mouth when your eyes met his. 

You weren't even entirely sure why you were saying that, but it just felt like the right thing to say. What other explanation could've logically summed up how you two went from hating each other to surprisingly becoming civil to abruptly kissing in just the matter of an hour or two?

A confused look crossed his face. “Why?”

“Because…” You were going to end your answer with “we hate each other,” but that definitely wasn't true anymore.

Before you could further think about how to answer Steve’s question, you both heard a confused-sounding, “What the hell?” from the other side of the door.

You looked away from Steve and at the shut bathroom door. “Hey! We’re stuck in here.”

“Oh, shit, hold on a sec. This happens all the time,” You recognized the voice as Lisa Matthews; it was her party. “One of the reasons why there was literally a sign saying, Do not go upstairs.”

The door was finally opened moments later, and Lisa proceeded to kick you and Steve out of her house after telling you both that the party had been shut down. 

“Do you need a ride?” Steve asked when you two were standing on the sidewalk.

“I drove,” You answered, voice suddenly soft for some awkward reason. 

Steve nodded at that. “Okay.” 

“Okay,” You nodded back. “Um, see ya around.” 

It was obvious that there was a lot more to say, but you both silently decided to leave your conversation from back in the bathroom unfinished. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

On your drive to the mall, you reminded yourself that you were simply going there to give Steve back his jacket— the jacket that you hadn’t realized you were still wearing until you were parked in your driveway after leaving Lisa’s house. 

There was a chance that Steve wouldn’t even be at the mall right now; you didn’t know his work schedule or what his shifts were like. But when you woke up, you decided that there was no harm in taking that chance.

A chance of simply returning his jacket to him. Nothing else. 

You saw him before he saw you. It was kind of hard not to spot him. He was standing behind the counter at the ice cream shop wearing a blue and white sailor’s uniform, complete with a hat that said “Ahoy!” across it. 

You had to bite your lip to hold back the shocked laugh you wanted to let out. 

When Steve spotted you walking over to the counter, he immediately pulled off the white hat he was wearing and pushed a hand through his hair. 

“You being dressed like this is truly the greatest thing I have ever seen,” You said, smiling at him.

“I should’ve never told you that I work here,” Was Steve’s immediate response, and that time you couldn’t hold back your laugh.

“And I’m so very glad you did. God, I wish I had a camera right now,” You told him. “You look very cute.” 

Surprisingly enough, you were actually telling the truth with your last statement. 

Steve rolled his eyes at your words, though, because he couldn’t tell you were being honest. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to give this back to you,” You answered and held up his navy blue jacket.  

“Oh, okay,” He said and grabbed it when you handed it over. “Thanks.”

“Also, I realized that I never answered your question last night,” You said before you could think better of it.  

“My question?”

His slight confusion let you know that you could’ve taken back your blurted-out words. You could’ve disregarded the entire thing and just ended the conversation right there, but you realized that you didn’t want to. 

“When I said that we shouldn’t have kissed, and you asked why. I never answered you.”

“Oh, that question,” Steve responded, a look that you couldn’t decipher crossing his face. “You have an answer now?” 

“Yeah,” You said with a nod. “Yeah, I think so, yeah.” 

Three “yeahs” and yet you actually didn’t feel sure about anything, especially what you were doing in this moment. However, you abruptly decided that you wanted to lean headfirst into honesty.

You didn't fully understand how things with Steve had been able to shift so easily, or why joking around with him and kissing him last night felt so surprisingly right, but you really wanted to find out.

“I said that the kiss shouldn’t have happened, but I was wrong,” You told him, and then continued speaking before you could potentially talk yourself out of admitting the rest. “I want it to happen again.”

You didn’t know what you expected Steve to say in response. You knew what you were hoping for— in a perfect world, he would tell you that he was thinking the same thing as you— but you had no idea where his mind was since last night. 

“Yeah?” He asked and gave you a small smile that managed to warm your insides. 

“Yeah,” You answered and matched his smile, growing a bit more confident. “Obviously, not here because there are children present, but if you wanna get stuck in another bathroom somewhere, that could be fun.”

“That could be really fun,” Steve responded, playing along. “Or we could skip the bathroom because it was kinda small. Maybe watch a movie on my couch instead.”

“You’re right,” You agreed, keeping your voice cool and normal, even though on the inside you were feeling the opposite. “That would be a lot better.”

Days ago, you couldn’t have imagined feeling this giddy about Steve Harrington. But things were so different now— changed with one long-overdue conversation and one really good kiss. 

“Tonight?” He asked. “7, if you’re free?”

You nodded. “It’s a date.”

Steve’s smile grew as he repeated the three words back to you. “It’s a date.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

[nmakii]

must be love

— you find sae’s phone opened, and you decide to snoop.

or; sae gets exposed for being a fake idgafer. this is too sappy. 2.7k words, this is my longest fic in my whole life… what life feels like as a girl who loves too much core

tags: @narcjsistx

— for @itoshiluvbot. love ya, partner.

‘she seems really eager to please,

but she has quite the backbone.’

you huff out in frustration. “ah!! ugh…” you scowl. sae raises his eyebrow. “my groupmate never started on her share of the work… ugh, now i have to cram it..!” you explain your sudden outburst. sae scoffs. “then tell your teacher or something. it’s not like i can do anything about it, im not your teacher.” he, quite obviously, points out. “wh… ugh, i’m gonna… i just— needed to let out my anger.” you groan, face planting and screaming into your textbook. and he hums in response. although he didn’t show it on his face, your outburst was quite out of character for the person he had grown to know. it was… weird, to say the least. and it had caused him to make a mental note not to anger you.

‘her generosity knows no bounds.’

“sae, this is for you. merry christmas!” you hand him a wrapped box. “hm..? i don’t take christmas gifts.” he bluntly states. “i haven’t gotten any gifts since i was 10 years old.” you scoff to yourself. “maybe that’s why you’ve always got that stick in your ass.” you tease. “excuse me?” he glares daggers at you. “aaaanyway! open it!” you shove the box into his hands. he looks at the box, and then at you, and he decides to open it. “new cleats.” he acknowledges. yes, mhm. these were indeed cleats..! “i didn’t need these, i was going to buy them myself.” he states.

“i know, you could probably buy them yourself. but, i thought i’d save you the hassle, y’know?” how thoughtful of you. he eyes the cleats up and down; it’s an expensive brand, but it’s worth the price for the quality. “…thanks.” he says, at last. he didn’t expect a gift from you, he doesn’t have one prepared for you. he’ll make sure to buy you something you’ll love later. “oh! hold on, i wanted to give you some other things ♪~” you fish a keychain and envelope out of your bag and hand it to him.

“…cinnamoroll..?” he questions. “it’s cute right? i thought you’d like it.” what an odd way of thinking… never once has he mentioned anything about cinnamoroll. but then again, it is pretty cute. “…well, i won’t say i hate it. thank you.” he thanks you as he eyes the envelope. “ah, don’t read it in front of me..! i got a bit sappy, it’s pretty. embarrassing…” you awkwardly laugh. “ah, got it.”

later that day, he opened the envelope. there was a letter; it had cute doodles all over. and, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel your affection radiating off the letter. it was… really sweet.

‘what a beautiful human being she is.’

itoshi sae is what you like to call a shy lover, if you were to put it kindly.

you know for a fact that he loves you, he just isn’t good at verbally expressing it. words of affection are too sappy for him. he prefers to show it through the thoughtfulness of his gifts, and the longing touches of his hands, which seem to never leave your’s.

you know he loves you. but, you can’t help but wish for him to say it more often.

it wasn’t many nights lately that the two of you would have a date night. with sae’s rigorous training schedule and endless interviews, the only thing he wants to do at night is to fall asleep beside you.

however, today was the end of the season. meaning, sae would have much more free-time for you.

with sae’s last game for the year completed in 0-4, the first thing he had to do was call you. even though you weren’t far away at all, sitting in the VIP lounge with the relatives and girlfriends of sae’s teammates.

“s/o?” he calls your attention. “mhm? congratulations on your win, babe! i knew you’d win.” you congratulate him. “they could barely keep the ball when they had it. is it really an achievement for me to have won this match?” he says, almost sassily. “pssh— alright. i get it, mr. ‘tepid.’.” you tease.

“don’t call me that.” he huffs. “stay where you are. i’ll go to you.” he commands. you hum in acknowledgment, and he hangs up.

he doesn’t keep you waiting too long before showing up. “there you are…” he sighs in relief, kissing you as his hands automatically find themselves on your body— one tangled in your hair, and the other resting on the curve of your spine.

once he finds the will in himself to finally pull away, he’s breathless.

he looks like he wants to say something, but he holds himself back, his fingers flowing through your hair. “…get ready for our date later tonight, yeah? formal wear.”

you nod, and his lips curl upward. “i’ll see you later.”

you decided to go all out, pull all the brakes. and when sae picks you up in his car, he can’t help thinking that you look like a dream. ‘are you sure you aren’t a model?’ he muses to himself. his heart twists, and the fat of his cheeks redden with affection. your hair flows like silk, and that glimmer in your eyes was once a star, handpicked from the skies, he’s sure of it.

everything about you encourages him to keep staring, but he manages to get ahold of himself. “…you…look beautiful.” is the only thing he can get himself to say. but, beautiful doesn’t seem to encapsulate it, not at all. it’s not even close. beautiful is only a fraction of what he thinks. “heh, you think so?” you ask. “yeah; beautiful.” he assures. “let’s go.” he says, barely turning his attention away from you as he turns to the road.

the drive to the restaurant is quiet, but sae’s mind is screaming at him. his eyes can’t stop moving back to take sneaky glances of you. he drinks up your beauty like a serpent, and he still hasn’t had his fill.

“…we’re here.” he pulls the shift into its’ brake. he gets out, and hands his keys to the valet boy— his words are inaudible through the car door, but he quickly finishes his conversation and moves to open your car door.

you take your first step out, and his hand immediately moves to help you out. god, you might be even prettier under the gleam of moonlight, shining like the pearl of the planet.

his arm moves and snakes around your waist, guiding you into the restaurant under the flash of paparazzi cameras. he grimaces at the loud, pitchy voices of news interviewers, begging for a comment; anything for a headline quote.

the gentle touch of his fingers tighten, as he silently encourages you to walk faster, and lose the crowd. the two of you hurry up, and dash into the restaurant, where you’re greeted with a dim candlelight, mahogany walls, and the rhythmic trumpet of jazz.

“welcome, mr. itoshi.” the receptionist greets. “your table for two is right this way.” she quickly guides the two of you into a secluded part of the restaurant, just like he’s always done as to make sure neither of you are spotted and harassed in public.

lamps hang on the walls, creating a romantic atmosphere. and the curved dark-brown leather booth couch perfectly complements the dark oak roundtable.

the date isn’t too different from the others. the two of you chat about anything that comes to mind. but, it’s actually more like it’s just you chattering on, and sae listening as he admires that excited grin on your face.

on the outside looking in, it’s obvious how he has heart eyes when he stares at you. he’s in a trance as he listens to the rich honeying sweetness of your voice; his finger traces the lines on the roundtable, wishing that it’d be the crinkles of your smile he’s tracing when he blinks and opens his eyes again.

his trance is broken though, when his phone rings. damn it, he forgot to put his phone on do not disturb… “something wrong?” you ask sae, and he takes his phone out of his pocket. “not sure. there shouldn’t be a problem, i cancelled everything for tonight. ugh… just a second, amor…” he remorsefully takes your hand in his as a silent gesture of apology. he took too long to pick up the phone, it already went out…

he opened his call app, and saw that it was from his publicist, dabadie. he groaned before picking up.

“sae! you didn’t mention that you’d be going out on a date today, your paparazzi shot is already all over social medias..!” he worriedly stammers. “i didn’t? well, whatever… it’s just a date photo anyway.” sae shrugs, speaking quietly to ensure that you don’t hear. “right— but… you know the internet… they might criticize you, and say that she’s distracting you from soccer…”

sae is about to correct him— he’s about to say that you aren’t distracting him from his career, but he holds back once he remembers that you’re right beside him, eagerly waiting for his attention to be back on you.

“i… have to speak to you for a second, im already outside the restaurant… the paparazzi didn’t censor out the location well enough either… so, the agency’s security car will follow you two home…” he adds on. sae sighs. “i have to speak to you too. i’ll meet you outside.” he hangs up. he huffs in exasperation and shallowly drops his phone, making it clatter on the table; the screen is left open on his call record. “im sorry, amor… i have to quickly take care of something, i’ll be back soon, i promise.” he kisses your hand.

“hmph, don’t worry. it’s dabadie, right? he’s always worried about something…” you laugh. of course you’d be understanding about it. you always understood. “heh, that he is.” he sasses before leaving the table.

…and you can’t help but notice that his phone is still open.

his phone is practically yelling at you, “check out what’s on me, s/o! check it out right now!”, and you simply can’t resist the temptation to!

first, you simply scroll around at his call record; nothing too interesting, it’s filled with calls from dabadie, and you. as well as occasional calls from his mom. how tepid, as sae would put it. you exit the app, and find his home screen wallpaper to be a picture he took of you; you’re looking out into the distance, the large castle of sleeping beauty in the background.

you smile to yourself at that cute photo, and move to his photos; it’s filled with photos of you, and almost none of him— not unless you were beside him. you scroll down to check out his older photos; they’re childhood pictures, only a few of them are with rin included.

…

…anyways, ‘what is in sae itoshi’s notes app?’, you ponder. you open his notes app.

‘things i want to eat: 1. omelette, 2. paella, 3. pesto pasta’

‘onitsuka tiger mexico - kill bill/grey, new balance 2002r - grey, asics gel NYC - oyster grey’

‘laundry’

‘i love you’

you laugh at the randomness of his notes, quickly scrolling through them. it’s true when they say that a boy’s notes is truly random.

but that last note catches your eye. it’s a pretty odd note that just says ‘i love you’ with no additional text. and, it makes you wonder.

sae’s an organized person, more or less. so, his notes must be filed too. and, you’re correct. there are three files; ‘lists’, ‘important documents’, and a file with your initial as its’ name.

the other two don’t seem as interesting, nor seem as mysterious. so, you click on the mysterious file.

and, the file is filled with everything about you; he’s written down your birthday (including the time…), your family members’ names, foods you like to eat when you aren’t feeling well, shows that you like to watch… everything.

and, there’s a note that catches your eye. it’s a cut-off sentence, since it was too long. you decide to feed your curiosity and click on the note.

‘she talks to everyone, even the people she doesn’t like.

it takes a lot to piss her off.

she’s always kind to me, after all.

she seems really eager to please, but she has quite the backbone.

she works really hard, but i don’t think many see it.

her generosity knows no bounds, and she always knows what kind of joke to make.

i didn’t think it was possible for a soul to be so beautiful.

nor, that someone like i would meet a soul like her’s.

but, im grateful to the stars above that i met her.

someone as kind as her deserves to receive all the love she gives.

i don’t think she knows how loved she really is though.

what a beautiful human being she is.

there simply isn’t enough words to describe the way her dimples crinkle when she’s happy.

the day she was conceived, the gods must’ve tenderly sculpted her heart out of ivory and gold.

the way she enamors everyone in the room simply by walking inside, and the way her personality shines in her rushed, yet sweet handwriting.

one day, i hope she’ll finally be perpetually happy.

so, that she can always shine that enchanting smile of her’s.

she deserves all of it.’

was this a poem..? it didn’t seem like it, it didn’t rhyme, and the stanzas didn’t have equal amounts of lines… but, the way he worded it out almost made it seem like he was a poet.

you don’t… even know what to think at such a romantic confession. it’s certainly much more than sae has ever verbally said to you. but, the fact that he had written this with you in mind makes your heart pound like crazy.

you’ve always known that sae loves you, but seeing his private thoughts all written out for you to read was… overwhelming.

“going through my texts, amor? i’m not texting any other woman besides you.” sae nonchalantly jokes. shit— time went quicker than you’d thought. “ah, nn… just got a bit curious, babe…” you hum. “what were you looking at..?” he asks, and his eyes widen the moment he sees what you were reading. out of all the things on his phone, that was the last thing he wanted you reading.

he embarrassedly closes his phone. “so… what was all that writing about..? were you trying to be a poet?” you jokingly ask; you knew that sae wasn’t mad, per say… he was probably just embarrassed. “n..no… it was, ah…” he clears his throat. “it was just… something i typed out when i realized i had many observations about you that i needed to write down. i just got sidetracked while i was typing.” he explains.

you smile, your entire body feeling like you’re on fire. the love you feel for sae itoshi feels like too much to contain in your heart. “it was really sweet, sae…” you assure him. for some reason, you have the odd incentive to just… cry right now. you love him so much.

“i know. but, it’s also too sappy.” he huffs. “aw, don’t be so shy… i know you’re just a huge softie under that tough surface…” you tease, moving closer to cuddle up to his side. “im not soft. i just love you, okay?” he groans. “don’t make me say embarrassing things.”

your smile widens, making him look at you with that lovesick look in his eyes. “aww… well, i guess i know how much you love me now anyway, so that’s good enough..!” you mentally fist pump at this small victory.

the atmosphere suddenly feels light again as you start to chatter again, teasing him slightly before going back to what you were speaking about before he had left. and still, sae’s looking at you like you’re the world cup trophy, like you’re all he’s dreamed of.

and sae thinks…

‘…you’ll know how sappy i can get when it’s our wedding day.’

but he should save that for another 5 years, or so.

[bellanothadidloa]

I've been receiving a lot of inquiries since sharing my success story, and while I'm not planning to start a blog, I do want to address some common questions here.

Did I manifest everything from the void?

Yes, everything I listed was indeed manifested when I entered the void, as outlined in my story. I've had some successes with various experiments before, but none reached the level of my most recent attempt.

What was the most crucial factor in achieving the final breakthrough?

I wish there was a straightforward answer, but it probably boils down to the realization that no matter how much I complained or cried, I was determined not to give up. I would read success stories and find myself in tears because they mirrored the life I aspired to have. I wanted to shift realities, be wealthy, happy, and beautiful—it might sound vain, but that's what I desired. I longed to feel free, unbound by any world, and to pursue my own path. Who wouldn't want that? At some point, I asked myself, would I still be trying to shift at 30, while struggling with dietary issues caused by gut praxis disorder? If the answer was yes, what did that mean? It meant I wasn't going to give up. So, I kept trying different things, knowing that eventually, something would work. Inner work is essential, but I believe it's inevitable. The longest journey I've seen took seven years. Do I want that for myself? Absolutely not, but what if it happens? The very acceptance of that possibility means you're not giving up, so what does it matter?

What method did you use?

As I've mentioned, I've tried every method. The final one that worked was the morphic field. I don't really care whether it was the morphic fields or something else that clicked within me. As I mentioned earlier, I realized I was sad, but I knew I wasn't going to give up, so I let myself be sad. Who cares? Let me be angry; I'm still not giving up. So, why fight those feelings? I cared and was disappointed and scared, but I just decided to trust in the fields because, in the end, it didn't matter whether they worked or not. I wasn't giving up.

How do you feel now that you've achieved your dream life?

I've managed to transform my life and self-concept, and along with being incredibly happy, I feel a mix of sadness for everything I endured and pride for how I pushed myself before succeeding. Initially, I thought it would be hypocritical to say I love myself after I changed everything about myself, looks and life, but I realized this is my life, and I'm still the same person, just with desires that now align with my reality. Why would I want to be unhappy in a life that makes no sense to be sad in? I don't believe anyone deserves or doesn't deserve anything. Do what you want, pursue inner work if you wish, or just manifest your desires. Personally, I didn't feel the need to do the inner work after manifesting my dream life, but I know some people do, and that's beautiful too. Life is just beautiful.

How to mend your relationship with the void?

The only advice I can offer from my experience is to acknowledge that you're not giving up on it. It reminds me of toxic relationships where despite infidelity, they say, "I know where home is." Unlike those misguided people, the void genuinely serves its purpose and supports you. It already knows its home is with you, whether you realize it or not, and that's all that matters.

How did you exit the void state ?

Exiting the void was a simple experience for me. I simply took a deep, calming breath and set a clear intention to leave. The sensation that followed was like tunnel vision, where everything around me seemed to narrow and focus. This was followed by a profound sense of detachment from any sense of self, almost like becoming weightless or losing a sense of individual identity. When I finally opened my eyes, I found myself in a completely new room, confirming that I had successfully transitioned out of the void and back to reality with everything on my life

Did everything you wanted come true?

Oh, absolutely—and then some! I ended up getting things I didn't even know I wanted. The way I look now is even better than my Pinterest boards ever dreamed of. Like, I had this idea for how I wanted my room to look, trying to mash together different vibes and aesthetics, and it turned out way better than I could have pictured. I was stuck between wanting a curvy figure and that sleek Bella Hadid look, but somehow I got the best of both worlds, which is exactly what I was hoping for.

I wasn’t even thinking about changing my eye color, but it happened, and I absolutely love it. I thought I'd revise old friends, but instead, I found new, amazing people who fit into my life perfectly. Now that I’ve got a better sense of self, I see this is exactly what I really wanted deep down. Everything just fell into place so perfectly, and it feels like I've finally got a handle on what I truly wanted all along.

Can you manifest things for other people?

Well, yeah, but it’s kind of like it's really just about yourself in a way. I mean, there have been times when I managed to manifest things for my brother, but oddly enough, I struggled to do the same for myself. It's weird, right? I don't fully understand how manifestation works in every detail. I just kind of go with the flow and assume it works the way I want it to. If I can pull off all these manifestations, then why not just trust that I can manifest whatever I want, however I want it? That's the mindset I've adopted, and it seems to work for me.

What's it like being a master shifter?

It's like waking up and remembering who you truly are, and almost laughing at all the suffering you experienced. When you think about it, you might have lowkey created that suffering yourself, which is kind of sadistic, but instead of holding onto any negative emotions about the journey, I just appreciate my life more. It’s a mix of joy and bliss. I still remember my old life, sure, but somehow, this new reality feels just right. It's like destiny exists, and I’ve finally found mine.

This concludes everything for me, and I’ve decided I won't be continuing my blog any longer. I've shared a lot of helpful insights in the past, but I won't be actively posting from now on. Thank you all for the love and support. I’ve reached a point where I no longer have a reason to continue here, and soon, you won't either. Goodbye and take care!

[thehoneybeestings]

𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐨 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬?‧₊˚──

(ft. sevika, vi, ambessa, grayson, ellie williams, abby anderson, kassandra of sparta)

Content/Warnings: x reader, no pronouns used but reader is described as wearing a dress and jewelry in ambessa's, some suggestive content for ellie's and kassandra's, mentions of smoking weed for ellie's) A/N: this will probably flop but as i was driving home with my passenger princess butch beside me, i started thinking about all of my fave characters and what their driving preferences would be... a very important subject to ponder obviously. i'm working super hard to get part two of dancer!vi x dancer!reader and sweet as honey out, but i needed a little break so this brain dump ensued and i thought i'd share with the class. please comment your contributions to my theories, or you fail the socratic seminar! (kidding we don't do those i love you my fellow socially anxious babies)

anyway, here we go, starting off with my arcane sexies:

──˚₊𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚

୨ৎ okay so this may be controversial... but 𝐲𝐞𝐬, i think she is a passenger princess- BUT, only when she's with you. you're the only person she trusts with her life, so you're the only person she lets drive her, but for the longest time, you had no idea she preferred being in the passenger seat. she's a very chivalrous partner, so you got used to her volunteering to drive and assumed it was because she liked being the one driving; until, one day, she slipped up and let out a sigh when you mentioned an errand the two of you needed to run. it had already been a long day at work, friday evening traffic had been terrible on the way home, and frankly, she didn't want to be behind the wheel at all before her commute to work on monday. you ask her what the fuss is about, and she (very bashfully) admits that she actually hates driving. the poor baby is terrified you'll think she's a bad butch, but you assure her that you have no problem at all being her chauffer. she does enough for everyone around her as it is <3 (she still DD's tho that's a non-negotiable)

──˚₊𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐭 

୨ৎ 𝐲𝐞𝐬, she is a passenger princess. no, this was not of her own volition, nor did she get a say. not after she rolled her window down at a red light to tell the jackass who cut her off alllll about himself. her first few trips in the passenger seat are spent with crossed arms and a pout (and when she was particularly annoyed, she'd do that thing where she turned her entire body away from you and faced the window so you knew just how begrudgingly she'd taken the spot), but nowadays, she's fully embraced her role as passenger princess. she likes being on aux, or reaching over to play with your hair- and oh, she takes the best naps in the car. just sleepily reaches over for your arm, wraps both of her own around it like you're a teddy bear (for all intents and purposes, you are vi's teddy bear) and conks the fuck out. it's safe to say she's come to appreciate what the passenger seat has to offer, and every once in a while, you'll even let her flip off the shitty driver that nearly hit you while they were merging because that's love

──˚₊𝐀𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐚

୨ৎ 𝐲𝐞𝐬, ambessa is a passenger princess, but she won't let you touch the wheel either. instead, she hires a chauffeur, and the two of you sit in the back of the BMW together. she always has a possessive hand on your thigh and a proud grin on her face, and when you ask her what she's smiling at, she'll just say you look pretty in that dress you picked out on your trip to milan; that those diamonds look so much better around your neck than they did on the display in new york; that luxury suits you well. her secret, though, is that driving makes her a nervous wreck. she'd hired a chauffeur long before she met you, because she truly cannot stand driving. it's completely overwhelming, but again, ambessa would never admit this; would never admit a weakness. not that it concerns you, anyway. the only thing you should be concerning yourself with is sitting in the back of the BMW and looking pretty like you always do.

──˚₊𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧

୨ৎ grayson lovesss driving you around, so its safe to say that 𝐧𝐨, she would rather you take on the role of passenger princess in your duo. she loves the way the sun peeks in through the window and catches your eyes during golden hour joyrides, the way that the cabin of her car smells like your perfume as you're on your way to dinner in the city, the way you giggle as you stick your hands out of the sunroof during late-night drives. she loves the mundane, too; opening and closing your door for you every single time you enter or exit the car, dropping you off and picking you up from work, rolling up to a drive-through and resting her hand on the small of your back with a warm smile as you lean over and order your favorite milkshake. you are grayson's princess, through and through, spoiled rotten. essentially, whenever there's a chance for her to keep you from lifting a finger, she's taking it.

now for my TLOU II ladies...

──˚₊𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬

୨ৎ hell 𝐧𝐨, she all but gets off on you being in the passenger seat of her truck! and i could leave it at that! but of course i'll elaborate. on a real note, ellie does prefer to drive because she prefers to be one who's focused and in control on the road. if you insist, she'll let you drive, but it has to be in your car. no one drives ellie's truck but ellie. and yes, you tease her about it all of the time, but she lets you, because there's nothing like picking you up from work and smoking you out, watching with an amused smile as you get all loose and giggly in the passenger seat. and if you do the thing where you look up at her through heavy eyes, batting your lashes and asking for another hit in that voice you know makes her melt, she'll just hand the the joint over with a smirk pulling at her lips, knowing damn well her passenger princess is about to find herself laid out in the backseat.

──˚₊𝐀𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧

୨ৎ so here's the thing: abby is suchhhh a backseat driver. it's one of the only things you fight about, and when you do, it gets ugly, because you know abby and that damn ego. she thinks she's right about everything. but it isn't one of these fights that lands her in the driver's seat for good; instead, it's the third missed turn in a row on a road trip back to your hometown. she asks you to pull into a gas station, and you assume it's so that she can figure out where the fuck you guys are and reroute the GPS, but then she reaches over to place her hand on your cheek and asks you- in that soft voice she only uses when she's speaking to you- to let her take over. and you realize, she was never trying to give you a hard time for your terrible sense of direction. she just wants to take care of her baby. so, you and abby decide that, 𝐧𝐨, she is not a passenger princess. plus, you've gotta, admit; she looks damn good with one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh.

and last, but certainly not least, my favorite womanizer on the list:

──˚₊𝐊𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐚 (𝐀𝐂: 𝐎𝐝𝐲𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐲)

୨ৎ gonna try not to make this super thirsty or super long but gods help me she makes it hard. anyway. not sure why, but i headcanon modern!kass as being kind of a car girl. not in an obnoxious douchey way, though. she just likes nice cars. she's got a fancy sports car, manual like she's used to driving back home in greece, still spotless inside and out despite her having had it for years. so, needless to say: 𝐧𝐨, kassandra is not a passenger princess. not with a car that sexy. not when it drives that nice. sexy sports car aside, kass is a gentlewoman, so she prefers to drive you around regardless. the one time you convinced her to let you take the wheel was toward the beginning of your relationship; she'd just gotten back from her annual trip to kefalonia, and you offered to drive her home from the airport, expecting that she'd curl up in the passenger seat and get some much-needed rest. instead- despite the near 24 hours of traveling she'd just endured- she couldn't keep her damn heart-eyes off of you. eventually, she couldn't keep her hands off of you, so she booked a room in a nice hotel for the night. just to break up the trip home. no other reason. (okay that's a lie but can u blame her u hadn't seen each other in a month!) you don't get to drive her back home from the airport again, though, because it only took that one month away from you for her to decide she wouldn't be going back to greece without you.

thank you all for being passenger princesses in the ride that was my 2 am thoughts.

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐁𝐞𝐞 ୨ৎ

[stxary]

Touch || 01

❤︎‬ pairing : jungkook x fem!reader

‪‪❤︎‬ genre : non idol au, college au, brothers best friend au, childhood enemies to lovers, love triangle, smut / angst / fluff

‪‪❤︎‬ word count : 2k

‪‪❤︎‬ warnings : reader is 20, jk is 22. reader n jk are both health majors ( reader- nursing, jk- medicine ) jk is an asshole, reader hates him. bickering (lots more to come..) umm that's it for this chapter lmk if I missed anything !

❤︎‬ a/n : hi :) im back after almost two months.. wow.. i hope this series im starting helps make up for inactivity !! ive had this idea on my mind for a while tbh, i just didnt know how to execute it but i finally had motivation yay ! i think ill probably keep this short, maximum 10 chapters just in case i disappear again.. ill probably keep the word count on the lower side just so its not a hassle to read too. anyways enough of my yapping, i hope you enjoy !! ^_^

“I’d like you to be my teacher’s aide.”

See, now those weren’t the words you were expecting to hear when your professor told you he wanted to speak with you after class.

You thought that he was going to speak to you about your grades. Maybe you didn’t do well on the last research paper you turned in. Or maybe he found out you helped that girl cheat on her test that one at the beginning of the year.

So hearing your professor ask you to be his teacher’s aide caught you off guard.

You weren’t completely opposed to the idea. God knew you could use the money.

You just weren’t sure you wanted to deal with the students that would come up to you blaming you for their bad grades, when they didn’t even do the work. But then again, the money was nice. You didn’t have time for a real job, and your lifestyle was rather expensive. Your brother Namjoon was getting fed up with paying for almost all of your stuff.

That’s the only reason you accepted the job, because you thought about how said brother Namjoon would be on your ass and give you one of his lectures about how he wasn’t your father and you were perfectly capable of providing for yourself.

When you accepted the job though, you thought you would just have to grade papers, maybe help make lesson plans and PowerPoints. You didn’t know you would have actually to tutor students.

Right now, you wanted to hit your professor for not telling you who you had to tutor. Not just once, like with the other kids. No, he said you would probably have to tutor this guy for the whole semester.

It would’ve been fine, if it was literally any other person. But no, of course the person you had to tutor was Jeon fucking Jungkook.

You really didn’t like Jungkook. You haven’t since you were kids. You guys were complete opposites. As a kid, you were more on the quiet side. You only focused on school, the thing you were interested in the moment, and your few friends. While Jungkook was everything you hated. He was loud, arrogant. He was the type of kid you would beg your teacher to move if you got sat next to him.

You tried to like him, but he made it near impossible. From the fights you had in elementary school, to the pranks he would play in middle school, to the way he would bicker with you just to get a rise out of you in high school. He was one of the most insufferable people you knew.

The only reason why you dealt with Jungkook for so long is because he was Namjoon’s best friend. For the longest time you wondered how Namjoon could even tolerate him. Yet, they were inseparable. Two peas in a pod.

As you got older, Jungkook (mostly) grew out of his antics. Now that you were in college, you barely talked. You tried to avoid him as much as you could. But in the few times you did interact with him, he would just make teasing remarks and small comments about little things.

Which is exactly what he was doing right now.

“And there.. Jungkook, can you please focus so we can get this over with?” you huffed out, setting your pen down.

He was slouched in his chair, paying attention to everything but what you were trying to teach him. He was impossible. It was like trying to teach Algebra to a baby.

He groaned, sitting up to finally look at the page. He skims over the picture, which was an x-ray of a body highlighting the skeletal system. “Fine.” he said reluctantly.

You pointed back at the page, hoping that when you spoke your irritation wasn’t evident. You knew he was acting dumb just to get a rise out of you, and fuck him, because it was working.

“Okay, what are the different types of bone cells and what do they do?” you asked, glancing at his face. His eyes were squinted, as if he was deep in thought. If you didn’t know better, you would think he was actually in thought. Before he gave the stupid ass answer he did.

“…are all cells in your body not the same? I thought animal cells were the same.”

You had to run a hand over your face and take a deep breath to prevent yourself from screaming at him in this quiet library. “Why do you have to be so fucking difficult?” you asked.

The thing is, Jungkook wasn’t dumb. No, he was actually really smart. It was just the fact that he never did work. Or even attended the classes. He skipped his classes often, going to do god knows what. (Most of the time it was to meet up with and sleep with girls.)

He smiled at you, that damn cocky smile that always made you want to strangle him. “Because I like seeing how angry you get. You’re cute when you’re mad, angel.”

You glared at him. You were used to his flirty comments, because you knew he never meant them. He only said them to get a rise out of you, so you never showed a reaction.

“I told you not to call me that.” you muttered, your voice snappier than before.

He tilted his head, his smile growing bigger. “I know. But I’m still gonna call you it.”

The nickname probably wouldn’t bug you so much if it wasn’t for the fact that he only used it in a teasing way. Ever since middle school, he would jab at the fact that you were this perfect child. He would call you angel, mary, probably ten other nicknames that you couldn’t even remember.

You took a deep breath, trying not to cause a scene. You did not want to get kicked out of the library just because Jungkook was acting like a baby.

“Let’s try this again.” you spoke, your voice calculated, slow. “What do osteoblasts do?”

He ran a hand through his hair, blinking at you. “I have no idea what those are.”

Your eye twitched. You knew you shouldn’t have been expecting more from him, considering he never went to class, but this was just outrageous.

“Do you not.. ask people what happens in class after the fact? Jungkook, how the hell do you expect to pass this class when you don’t even show up?”

He leaned back in his chair, rolling his eyes. “Hey, I don’t need a lecture from you, missy.”

“No, you need to get your shit together. You wanna get your degree and get the hell up out of here, don’t you?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

He hesitated, letting out a hum. “Hm, I dunno. I kinda like being able to have all the girls I want. You know, most of them aren’t uptight bitches like you-“

“Okay, you know what? We’re done here. Bye.” you said abruptly, having enough of him for the day. Right about then you were remembering why you hated him so much when you were younger.

He sat his chair down on all four legs and whined. “Oh, come on, angel. Don’t be like that. Don’t you get paid per session?”

You ignored him, continuing to pack your things before storming out of the private study room. You seriously could not deal with that man. And you had to tutor him for the rest of the semester. Yeah, fuck your life.

“Jungkook told me you’re his new tutor, said that you flipped out and ran away earlier.”

Namjoon’s voice came from the front door as he brought in the bags of food you ordered.

“Whatever. I didn’t flip out, I left because I think I would have punched him in the face if I listened to him talk for one more minute.” you corrected, getting up from the couch to help him bring in the bags.

He snorted, starting to take boxes out of the bags. The smell of the food, both sweet and savory filled the kitchen, making your stomach growl.

“I can’t believe I have to tutor him for the rest of the damn semester. Can you believe he’s already failed the class once? What an idiot!!” you ranted, shaking your head as you slammed your hand down on the counter.

“He can be smart. When he wants to be. And when he actually goes to class.” Namjoon replies.

“I know. That’s what pisses me off. How is he always skipping class to meet girls? Then he acts clueless, and he only does it because he wants to see me angry. He said it’s cute!! He doesn’t even take me seriously!” you grumbled, snatching your box of food before plopping back onto the couch. Namjoon followed, watching your outburst in slight amusement. He had always thought you and Jungkook’s rivalry was funny.

“You know you’ve gotta get along with him to get the money. I already told you-“

“I know.” you groaned, shutting him up. “Ugh, but can’t you just keep buying me everything? I liked it when it was like that?” you whined.

“No. Because you ask me for stupid shit.”

“What? No I don’t!”

“Yes you do.”

“Name one stupid thing I’ve made you buy.”

Namjoon pauses, staring at you, before beginning to list things. “Those birria bombs off Tiktok shop, that skincare off of Temu that you never even got, a pair of headphones when you already had one-“

“Okay, that’s enough! I can justify all of those!!” you lift your hands up in a defensive gesture. Namjoon narrows his eyes at you, urging you to continue.”

“Cmon, I really couldn’t turn down the birria bombs. They were on sale! You can’t even deny that dinner was good for 3 nights when we got them.” you pointed at him, and he just stared back at you.

“Then the skincare.. it was a full set. I really had to get it. It was supposed to come with pimple patches and all! Fuck Temu. And-and the headphones.. I needed a backup. Then a backup for the backup.”

“You have a spending addiction.” Namjoon said, after just blankly staring at you for a few long moments.

“No I don’t.” you denied, taking a bite of your chicken.

“Please get yourself a boyfriend. Preferably a really rich one, so he can waste his money on buying you pointless shit instead of me. I can’t remember the last time my wallet hasn’t been crying for a break.” he says, fake sorrow in his voice.

“Ugh, fuck you.” you pout.

Namjoon laughed, reverting the conversation back to the original topic. “Seriously ___, you’ve gotta get along with him. You can’t back out of it. The semester only goes by faster when you don’t completely hate him.”

You sighed heavily. He was right. You were never going to get through this semester if you didn’t find a way to get on good terms with Jungkook.

“Really, he’s nice-“

“No he’s not!!” you interrupt, sitting up straight on the couch. “He’s an asshole!”

“Because you’ve been an asshole to him.” Namjoon deadpans. You furrow your brows. Of course you’ve been an asshole to him! He’s been one to you since you were kids!

“Because he’s been one to me!!” you say defensively, and Namjoon just gives you a look.

“So do you see the cycle?” he asks, calmly. A complete contrast to your tone. But you were always like this when you complained about Jungkook. He irked a nerve in you that nobody else could. It honestly was a talent.

Namjoon did have a point. If you continued down this road, you were just going to go in circles with Jungkook like you’ve been doing your whole life. You slouched down, not even responding to Namjoon’s question. He knew you were defeated when you just took another bite of your chicken.

He took a sip of his drink, before speaking again. In that same, calm tone. It always amazed you how calm he could be when you were on the verge of going insane.

“Talk to him. Have a normal conversation with him. He can be nice if you can be nice.” You turned your head to look at him, giving him a pleading look. When he just stared back at you, you let out a big sigh.

“Fine.”

Fuck Jungkook. You were getting through this semester. Whether he wanted to cooperate or not. You were tutoring him, and you were getting that damn money. So if that meant attempting to be nice to him, you could do that. Even if it felt like it would be the death of you.

© stxary 2025 , all rights reserved .

[daargraves]

Something that I'm very interested about is why and when the S1 archive crew joined the institute in the first place. I was planning for a fanfic and that made me looking through their wiki and reread the transcripts.

Jon and Tim are easy, both had been mentioned in the podcast.

Jon had mentioned being a researcher for 4 years by the time canon happened, which took place in 2015, which means he joined in 2011. As for the reason, well, A Guest for Mr. Spider. I don't think it was ever mentioned specifically but I think it's very clear that he wanted to know more about the Leitners.

Tim took a bit of thinking, in the "when". The incident of his brother took place in August, 2013. We can assume that mean he joined the institute around late 2013, because he left his publishing job to find out what happened to Danny. Which, I'm gonna be honest, surprised me when I first saw it.

Every fanfic I've ever read seems to make Tim already working in the institute when Jon joined, which is not true, Tim joined 2 years after Jon. I do understand the confusion, Tim and Sasha feels much closer to each other than Jon to either of them, so you would think they know each other for way longer than with Jon. I guess there's a possibility that Tim already knew Sasha before the institute and maybe she is the reason he knew it existed in the first place. Either way, it's a gripe for me now if anyone mentioned Tim being in the institute for longer than Jon.

Martin, we know why, he's a drop out that needs a job because of his mom. Elias most definitely knew that he lied on his CV and hired him anyway because no one will miss him and he can use him or something, perhaps even because he thought it would be interesting to put someone with a big secret to work in a place that was made for a god of getting secrets out of people. As for when, however, it was never mentioned. We can make a guess, he was mentioned to have seen a statement giver from 2009, so he's already work for the institute in 2009 at the latest, and judging by him being 29 in 2016, he dropped out in 2004. Meaning by the time he was transferred to the archive, he had worked for appoximately between 6-11 years. Which mean, also, he is potentially the one that worked in the institute the longest.

Now, we get to the one who we know nothing at all, Sasha. The only thing we know is that she at first worked in artefact storage for 3 months before transferring to research. She said she had been in academia for 10 years, but that doesn't necessarily mean she had been working at the institute for that long, because she said "I’ve been in academia" and not "I’ve been working here". Of course, it's up to interpretation. We know she knew Gertrude and had talked to her, but knowing Gertrude, this is probably in 2011, after Emma died. I do believe she most likely had been there for longer than Jon, since that could also made her more qualified for the Head Archivist position (if this is a normal job). My personal belief is she started working there around 2009/2010. For the "why"... Sasha never mentioned ever having an encounter before Michael, so that's probably not it. She most likely joined because it's a research job. She also mentioned she couldn't afford to quit after artefact storage, so she was probably also desperate for a job, just like Martin.

Then again, we all know how fucked the timeline is in TMA (looking at you, Jonny) so maybe the "when" are all completely incorrect, who knows!

┐(°∀°)┌

If anyone had any thoughts or corrections, feel free to share! - 💻

[mellotunekitty]

hey so how do you think the bat boys would deal with them messaging s/o or coming into their apartment late at night to come to bed and the boys are like “I can’t sleep. Can we talk?” and s/o messages back or says after sort of wake up “I can sleep” and they fall back asleep 😂. When s/o does properly wake up hours later, s/o pulls their man in for morning cuddle, but then their mind starts working and they ask seriously, “… did you want to talk about something last night or was I dreaming it?” Or for messaging, s/o remembers and gives their boyfriend a call and is happy to be talking to them and they ask the same question over the phone “I thought I dreamt it, but I just noticed you message me and I sent that back… I was exhausted and in a deep sleep. Did you still want to talk?”? Basically s/o isn’t very good to interact with or function when they’re tired 😂? (It’s all good people staying up all night for their love of their life, but what about a s/o who’s never able too?. They fall asleep in bed and then are woken up by their boyfriend sneaking in. They frequently pass out after their boyfriend sneaks into their bed. S/o Hair a mess. “What?… oh… zzzz” would be how the boys identity probably stayed a secret for the longest time. Wouldn’t even notice the blurry mask and spandex suits in their tired state).

omg yes, as a sleepy person, i LOVE this idea!!!

----------

Batboys x Sleepy gn!reader

Bruce Wayne

Being home late meant low chances of having an actual conversation with you. He needed help setting up the gala for tomorrow and you guys were supposed to plan it tonight

“My love, wake up for a minute. We have to set the plans, remember.” 

You sat up for a moment, sitting next to him in bed to help him. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long seeing as you almost immediately fell asleep on his shoulder. 

He just sighed and put his laptop away, figuring you guys could plan it later or just use what you had. 

It was a bit funny though, seeing you so out of it trying to stay awake and focus on the plans. 

“And I think we should serve lemonade with the… darling? Are you listening?” “Hm? Yeah…” 

Dick Grayson 

He usually came home to you sleeping after patrol, so he figured he’d have to wake you up if he wanted to discuss tomorrow's date plans.

“Babe? Hey, wake up, I gotta talk to you…” 

It works…for a few seconds. You woke up, but mumbled something incoherent before falling back asleep. 

Dick just chuckled and shrugged it off, figuring he could just talk to you in the morning. The date wasn’t until later anyway, and sleeping beside you seemed more appealing at the moment.

“It’s okay… I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Sweet dreams, sweetheart.” 

Jason Todd

Poor Jason couldn’t sleep at all. He tried everything from warm drinks to meditation, but nothing seemed to work. So, he called you. 

“Hey, y/n? Yeah, uhm… can I come over?” 

He got a half mumbled ‘yeah’ before heading over. Of course when he did, you were tucked in, all cute and sleepy. 

Jay slipped in next to you, snuggling against you and had the easiest time falling asleep. However, in the morning, you looked shocked, not remembering him coming in. 

“...when did you even get here?!” 

Tim Drake

It was always a 50/50 with Tim. Either he slept anytime, anywhere, or he couldn’t sleep at all. Tonight, he couldn’t sleep. So, he called you. 

“Hey, baby, I can’t sleep. Can we just uhh… talk for a while?” 

He got all warm and gushy when he heard your muffled little ‘yes’ from under your blankets. 

But he quickly realized you weren’t the best person to talk to when you were tired. You couldn’t hold a conversation at all and eventually, he found out that you sleep talk. It was a pleasant surprise to him.

“What are you saying now, hm?” “The banana… lost my hat.” “Oh, yeah, I bet.” 

Damian Wayne

The second you opened your eyes when he walked into the room as Robin, he thought he had completely blown his cover. Apparently, he didn’t. 

“Go back to bed… you don’t see anything.” 

He was shocked it actually worked, but he shouldn’t have been too surprised. He knew you’d take any and every opportunity to sleep. 

Damian hastily got out of his Robin suit and got into pajamas, sliding into bed next to you. It was a bit of a funny thought to him, the fact that you didn’t even question Robin being in your room… right? 

“I had a weird dream last night.” “About?” “I dreamt that Robin was in my room.”  

[midnightshindig]

Hey! I hope you’re doing well, I got a request for you. I feel like couples showering together is such an intimate and loving experience, can you do hc’s with wife!fem!Reader x Cecil, nothing too nsfw but if you want some on there then go for it.

Cecil X Wife!Reader: Showering Together

Pretty short one this time!

hcs under the cut!

When you first proposed showering together, Cecil was hesitant

It sounded inefficient and weird

But you emphasized that you would really enjoy it, and that he might enjoy it too

soooooo I mean cmon, he's not gonna turn down an innocent request from his WIFE

There's something weirdly intimate about seeing you naked in a decidedly non sexual context

Watching you unbutton your blouse and unhook your bra, moving to unbutton your skirt, letting it fall to the ground, finally stripping completely

It was mesmerizing

he'd never watched you that closely before

You were the type of person who undressed top first, then bottoms, huh?

He never knew

Once in the shower, you took turns with the water, each wetting your hair

"Hey, Cecil?"

"mhm?" he responded, running his hands through his hair to get it all wet

"Will your shampoo my hair for me?" your voice was soft and hesitant, the weight of your request not lost on you

It wasn't lot on Cecil, either

"Oh- of course." he immediately grabbed the shampoo and poured a quarter-sized amount into his palm, lathering his hands together as you turned your back to him

His hands worked their way into your hair, like a scalp massage

Cecil was trying hard not to hurt you by pressing too hard, or getting his hand snagged in a tangle.

But he was perfect and gentle, the soap bubbling up on your scalp like intended

After rinsing your hair, Cecil figured he'd ask for something similar

"Will you uh- get my back?" he asked, weirdly bashful about such an innocuous request

the intense intimacy of it all was getting to him

He was so stoic by nature, this much prolonged, non-agenda'd intimacy wasn't something he anticipated

But, of course, you were more than willing to take his loofah and scrub down his back with love

The rest of the shower went slowly, it was probably the longest shower in either of your lives

You conditioned your hair, scrubbed down your body, and washed your face

Cecil had never noticed your skincare routine before

Seeing this side of you fascinated him

"you know, we've been married for a while, right?" he started, having taken to leaning against the shower wall to observe you

"Mhmm" you hummed in response, scrubbing soap around your collarbone

Cecil continued, "And in that time, I don't think I've ever seen this side of you...."

He approached you, wrapped his arms around your waist and leaned his head on your shoulder "I'm glad you suggested this."

You smiled warmly, tilting your head to kiss his cheek "Me too, honey, me too."

[spr1ngpvrinbwunnie]

DESPERATE REQUEST:

what would happen if Stella, Leith, and Eddie forced Harley and his partner to join them in a game of hide and seek in the factory where every location is open after hours in the middle of the night and s/o has to be the hider and they are absolutely impossible to find meanwhile the executes are paranoid and terrified (especially Harley) knowing that a/o won’t be able to resist jumping out and scaring them!? Headcanons?? :3

A hide-and-seek game in an abandoned toy factory at midnight? With a partner who thrives on scaring people? With executives who are already on edge? And with Harley being the most paranoid of them all?

This is going to be so much fun.

Headcanons – Midnight Hide-and-Seek in Playtime Co.

(Or: How to Give the Entire Executive Team a Heart Attack in One Night)

🌙 The Setup

This whole thing probably started because Eddie and Stella were bored out of their minds and somehow convinced (read: pressured) Harley into participating.

Leith, being the reasonable one, initially refused. But then Eddie threw in some corporate-level guilt-tripping like, “C’mon, Pierre, don’t be a killjoy. You already make us suffer during work hours—let us have this.”

Harley, naturally, thought this was the stupidest idea imaginable and was completely against it.

“This is a waste of time.”

“You do realize we work in a factory known for its many mysterious disappearances, yes?”

“If any of you so much as touch my lab, I will make sure you regret it.”

He only relents when Stella, in all her unhinged glory, insists it’ll be “fun” to see who lasts the longest before they start losing their minds.

🦇 The Rules

Your job? Hide. You get a full five-minute head start.

Their job? Find you. But there’s a catch:

No lights—only flashlights are allowed.

No splitting up (because even THEY know that’s how horror movies start).

No chickening out halfway through.

…Harley is already suspicious. Way too suspicious.

👣 The Game Begins…

As soon as the game starts, you vanish. Completely. No sound. No trace.

The factory is massive, labyrinthine, and filled with shadows. The further they go, the more uneasy they get.

Eddie, at first, tries to play it cool. “Okay, okay. This isn’t bad. We just gotta—”

Something creaks.

Leith freezes.

Harley pulls out a scalpel like it’s going to help.

😨 The Executives Start to Panic

Leith is the most vocal about his regrets.

“This is a terrible idea.”

“I knew I should’ve stayed in my office.”

“I don’t get paid enough for this.”

Eddie tries to stay rational, but his nerves are showing.

“Okay, but seriously. Where the hell did they go? They couldn’t have just disappeared—”

Stella? She’s THRIVING.

Absolutely living for the tension.

Is the only one laughing while the others are actively regretting their life choices.

🔦 Where’s Harley in All This?

PARANOID.

ON EDGE.

CONVINCED YOU’RE GOING TO JUMP OUT AND GIVE HIM A HEART ATTACK.

“This isn’t a game. This is psychological warfare.”

“They’ve been waiting for this moment. I know it.”

“This is a calculated attack on my well-being.”

Every slight movement? Every distant noise? He notices.

His brain is in overdrive.

If they were hiding in ventilation shafts, they would’ve had to access it from…

If they were in the old testing chambers, there would’ve been a slight reverberation in sound…

If they were in the prototype storage area—

Oh, wait. The door creaked.

HE KNOWS.

And yet—he still jumps when you finally strike.

👻 The Grand Reveal (AKA: Your Victory)

When you finally decide to end it, you wait until the absolute worst moment—

They’re huddled together in some darkened corridor.

Their nerves are fraying.

Harley is visibly tense, Leith is done with everything, Eddie is regretting his life choices, and Stella is just watching chaos unfold.

Then?

You jump out.

With zero warning.

Directly behind Harley.

🎤 Reactions:

Harley?

JOLTS like someone just defibrillated his soul.

Immediately turns around, ready to commit a crime.

“I should have you thrown into a furnace.”

Leith?

Screams.

Not even an ashamed scream—just pure, unfiltered terror.

“I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN.”

Eddie?

Nearly drops his flashlight.

Tries to act like he wasn’t scared.

“I— I wasn’t scared. I was— I was just—”

Stella?

CACKLING.

Absolutely delighted.

“Worth it. Every second of it.”

✨ The Aftermath

Harley refuses to speak to you for the rest of the night.

Leith files an unofficial complaint against you.

It goes directly into the trash.

Eddie still insists he wasn’t scared.

But he is now suspiciously avoiding dark hallways alone.

Stella? Already planning the next game.

“Next time, we blindfold Harley and make him the seeker.”

“NO.”

…And you?

You have a new favorite pastime.

[sapphicmsmarvel]

tattoo artist azriel

Notes: possibly pervert azriel but y/n’s a pervert too. Dirty lines. This wasn’t gonna be smut but it is now. Sub Azriel but also, he’s a power sub. This derailed so fast. I promise we will go back to the tattoo stuff eventually. Plus size reader. Lots of run on sentences. I can't write smut so I tried my best. 

funny enough this is probably one of the fics that’s nearest to my heart. 

Word count bc this is the longest thing ive ever written at a whopping 4k

Pls listen to motivate by little mix for this. 

-You met each other because your friend worked at a tattoo shop with him. 

-When you walked in the door and saw this man that looked like a greek god standing there you almost bolted in the opposite direction and was going to text your best friend to just meet you outside. 

-You knew about Azriel from your best friend. Kind but introverted. He didn’t talk much aside from jokey comments. But he was a man that your friend had deemed a safe one. You knew he was attractive based on photos, but the first moment you saw him in person, you didn’t expect him to still be so attractive. 

-Little did you know, he also knew about you. 

-He had seen a picture of you because on your friends desk there’s a collage of you and all of your guys’ friends. Anything that gives her motivation in such a touch and go industry. 

-It was a photo where you were laughing at something your friend had said. Mouth fully open, nose scrunched and eyes squinting. 

-He was enamoured with you. Something about you just put him into a trance. He didn’t want to sound like a stalker, because he sure felt like one. But he thought you were really pretty. 

-He got to meet you because you had come to pick your best friend up for lunch. She was finishing up with a client as you sat at the front of the building. 

“You can walk back there with her, you know.” Azriel leaned against the counter.

You shook your head, “nah, I’ll start yapping and oversharing with her client. She doesn’t need that.” 

He chuckled, “I’m Azriel.” 

“I’m Y/n.” You beamed and he felt his heart squeeze. 

-Your best friend interrupted you two ten minutes later to drag you to lunch. He couldn’t help the blush that formed on his face when you waved and smiled with your big pearly whites. 

-After a few months, he got the nerve to ask your best friend about you. He saw you about once a week now to pick your friend up for her lunch break. And every time he tried to work up the nerve to ask you out or ask your friend about you. You guys would chat every single time you saw each other, slowly getting to know each other more. 

-”Hey.” Azriel started. 

“Hey!” Your best friend chirped. “What’s up?” 

“Is Y/N single?” 

She had stopped sketching completely and looked up at him. “Are you serious?” 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be asking this as a joke.” He blinked in surprise. 

“Azriel, she’s a serious type of girl. She’s not into hookups, and if you break her heart I have a slew of inappropriate things to tattoo on you.” 

His stomach sank, this wasn’t going well. “I’m serious. I really like her, she's funny and cute.” 

“She’s also queer. You need to be okay with that in order for me to let you date her.” She narrowed her eyes at Azriel, vetting him for you. “Oh, that doesn’t bug me. As long as she’s into men right?” He shrugged. 

“In her words, she unfortunately is.” He knew she was testing him. For homophobia, or if he was okay with men-bashing.

Considering he knew he wasn’t the problem, he was totally fine with men-bashing. 

“Lucky for me.” He said determinedly. 

That’s when your friend smiled, and began forming a plan. 

-Your friend through a summer solstice party. It was a bonfire in her backyard. You and Azriel had been briefly seeing each other all night. But at the end, you two were by the fire and began talking. 

-He looked up to your friend's house and saw her give him a big thumbs up. He appreciated the encouragement but he was wigging out. 

-He had brought you two s’mores and a blanket for the cool summer air. 

You two happily munched on the snack, then he decided to get it over with before he threw up into the fire pit. 

He looked over and saw you looked ethereal in the warm hues of orange and yellow as the fire crackled and popped. You had just licked a smudge of chocolate from your thumb. 

He took a deep breath, “Y/N, I have a question.” 

“Oh don’t say it like that. My stomach just fell into my ass.” You said exasperated. Fearing the worst. 

“It’s nothing bad, at least I hope you don't think it is.” He sighed, “will you go on a date with me?” 

“You don’t sound too happy to ask me out.” You laughed nervously. “No! No. I’m just so nervous. You’re really pretty and smart and funny. I've been interested for months.” He’s never been so candid towards someone he’s pursuing, but you are special and have the ability to strip him bare without even trying. 

You smiled, “I want to say yes…” 

“But?” He prompted. “It’s really scary for me to date.” You confessed, nervously biting your lip. “Tell me about it.” He shifted more towards you so he was facing you. “What can I do to make you more comfortable?” 

Your heart turned gooey like the melted chocolate you had just eaten. “It’s really me that’s the problem.” 

“I doubt that.” He said earnestly. 

You huffed a laugh out your nose. “I’ve been on two dates. They both sucked and just made me feel shitty. I don’t like feeling like that. And there’s so much pressure to look good and be this person I don’t know if I am.” You shrugged. “Like putting the best parts of myself and not my whole self.” 

“No offense, but only two? Honestly, you’re really attractive. I was expecting more competition.” He quickly realized how bad ‘only two’ sounded. He didn’t want to accidentally make it seem like he was calling you a ‘slut’. Even if you did sleep around, that didn’t stop him from being interested. 

You shrugged. “Nobody wants to date a queer fat girl because they're insecure.”

That sentence pissed him off on your behalf, however he loved that you knew they were insecure and that you deserved better. 

“I think you’re beautiful.” He said. 

You blushed, “thank you. And I know you mean that.” 

“I do.” He nodded, then he got an idea. “Do you feel shitty right now? Is this feeling like you’re performing?” “No?” You answered with your own question. 

“How about this for our first date?” 

You giggled, “we’ve barely seen each other tonight.” 

“This. Right here by the fire. This can be our first date.” He declared. “No pressure. No performing.” 

It was so cute and sweet, he’s so cute and sweet. 

You couldn’t help your answer. “I’d love that. Let’s schedule a second one?” 

He felt like his chest was about to collapse from happiness.  

-Your second date, he drove his motorcycle to pick you up. He had advised against dresses or skirts and to make sure to bring a jacket. 

You felt your heart race the second you saw this hot piece of ass on a motorcycle with a helmet for you.

-At stop lights he would reach an arm around to stroke your thigh. And while it was very forward, it gave you the courage to run your hands up and down his chest. Your nails lightly grazing his pecs. 

-He was glad the light turned green so he could think about something weird to get his boner to go away. 

-You two ended the night at a rooftop bar that your friend advised him on. You hadn���t been there but she knew you’d love it and you did. 

-The warm summer breeze but there was still a slight chill. The fairy lights, the city lights. The appetizers and drinks. Alcohol for you, non-alcoholic for him. 

-You felt peace with him. Like you aren’t being scrutinized or put on display. You felt more comfortable with him than you felt with most people. 

-And you had only known him for a few months. 

-You felt safe and protected. 

-Once he dropped you back at your place. You didn’t want the night to end which was rare for you. Usually, you couldn’t leave a date fast enough. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, he was blushing and nervous. 

“Please do.” You whispered. 

“Trust me, Y/N. You never have to beg when it comes to me.” He confessed before he pulled you to him. 

It was a kiss that made your knees weak. It was intense, it was butterfly inducing. You felt flames in your stomach caress up to your chest. Your chest swooped with adrenaline.  His hands moved from your waist to your cheeks, cupping them as he kissed you deeper. You had kissed others before, you had hookups, but they never made you wet from a simple kiss. 

But this wasn’t a simple kiss. You always thought romance books were incorrect but it was nice to have fantasy. No, this was straight out of fiction. 

You wanted to suck his soul out. You wanted to become so intertwined within each other you wouldn’t know where you ended and he began. 

“Come inside.” You said, pulling away from him, he continued to kiss your neck as you fumbled the keys. 

“This wasn’t my intention by kissing you.” He whispered in between kisses behind your ears. 

Ah ha! You finally got the key into the lock. “Yeah well you got me wet so you’re gonna fix it.” 

He was clearly caught off guard because he snorted a genuine laugh. “It would be my honor.” You finally opened the door. 

The second that door was shut and locked you dropped to your knees. “Y/N.” He hissed. “I was planning on eating you out.” 

“Okay and I’m going to suck your soul out.” You fumbled the zipper.

“Y/N-”

“Azriel I have never wanted to suck a man's dick the way I do yours. Please? Let me?” You made sure to throw on your big puppy eyes and you got him. 

He threw his head back. “I’m not gonna last.” 

“Good.” Your eyes darkened. “Now, unzip your pants for me like a good boy.” 

He sighed, “you’re going to wreck me. But also I’m allowing this because I can’t wait to fuck you till you cry.” 

Oh fuck. Was your only thought as his pants and underwear hit the ground. Causing his cock to spring up and smack his stomach. 

Not only were his words scorchingly hot, but seeing his tattoos up and down his body was a wet dream incarnate. 

He was thick and long. His tip was red and weeping. A fat drop of precum on the tip. 

And he was pierced. He had a jacobs ladder piercing which made you salivate and wonder how it would feel inside you. There was a snake tattoo wrapped around his waist, with its head by his belly button and then the tail ending part way down his left thigh. 

You could not wait to get your tongue on his skin. 

You licked a stripe from his balls to tip. He hissed as your warm mouth enveloped his most sensitive skin. 

You were glad you had blowjob practice before him, his dick hit the back of your throat and you were able to stop yourself from gagging. You could feel he was holding back so you came off of him with a pop. He groaned in annoyance but then somehow felt harder than before when you hoarsely whispered:

“Fuck my throat, Azriel.” 

He swallowed, “tap my thigh if it gets too much.” 

You nodded, smiling. Your swollen lips were a siren’s call. You were practically vibrating to get your mouth on him and be used. 

He grabbed your hair gently, yet firmly and used your mouth like a fleshlight. It was so delightfully filthy it made you grow even wetter.

You’ve never been more happy for a guy to shoot his load down your throat. You swallowed every drop. 

He had a good diet at least because his come didn’t taste like battery acid. 

He shucked off the rest of his pants and pulled you from your knees quickly. He pulled you into a kiss. “Fuck, it should not be so hot to taste myself on your lips.” He murmured between your swollen lips. 

He took off your tank top, showing your sports bra. “Where’s your room?” He said kissing your throat. 

“Down the hallway, the only door on the right.” You whispered huskily. 

“Good, because I’m about to do some multitasking.” He said, then lifted you up as if you weighed nothing. 

“Shit!” You yelped. 

He then dove into your cleavage, however you pulled his head away and ripped your bra off and threw it so he had easy access. He sucked a nipple into his mouth and you moaned. He really did multitask because he began walking to your bedroom. 

“Left of the door against the back wall, is my bed.” You said between gasps. He switched tits. 

You didn't even realize you had moved so fast until your back hit your bed. He ripped his shirt off and you couldn’t help but gaze at his ink. Whorls and delicate lines inked down his chest as if there were shadows caressing his skin. You had seen his arm tattoos constantly and they never failed to take your breath away, but these. 

These were almost as sinful as the snake on his hips. 

He began kissing down your stomach. 

“This isn’t like me.” You whispered as he kissed your chubby stomach. 

“What?”

“I don’t do quick…hookups.” “This isn’t a hookup to me, Y/N.” He nearly growled as he tore your leggings and panties down your legs. You looked down to see him sniff your panties greedily and felt more warmth gush from your cunt. 

“You have no idea what I’ve thought about doing to you.” He said darkly. He grabbed your thighs. “I’m about to make you forget about anybody before me.”

“Well, no one’s gone down on me before so…” You trailed off weakly. 

He shot his head up from kissing your thighs. “What.”

You shrugged, feeling slightly defensive. “No one’s really wanted to.” 

“The day I say I don’t want to eat you out, shoot me. Cause that’s not me.” 

“Well, let’s not go that far-oh!” You yelped as you felt his teeth graze the soft skin of your thigh.

“God, these thighs…” He muttered, biting your thigh gently, causing a sting of arousal to shoot straight to your clit. His warm tongue soothed the light bite marks. 

You moaned. His mouth sucked your clit into his mouth with so much force your back bow3ed off the bed. 

“Fuck.” You cried out. 

He spelled his fucking name in your cunt with his tongue. His teeth ever so slightly grazed against the nub. How he knew you liked some pain you had no idea but you were grateful for such an intuitive partner. 

It didn’t take long for you to get to the crescendo of this symphony. The slurping sounds, his moans as he tastes you, it was enough. 

Your wildest fantasies didn’t live up to this. Your vibrator for once, did not beat the actual act of intimacy. 

He licked you gently as you came down from the high. He crawled up to your face and gave you a sweet kiss where you got to taste yourself. 

“Fuck, you were right. Tasting yourself on your partner's lips is hot.” You sighed. 

He chuckled, “I don’t have condoms, if you even wanted to go that far.” He said sadly. But you knew it was cause he didn’t bring condoms. Not over the fact that you might not want to go that far. 

“Top drawer of the left nightstand.” You whispered. 

He smiled like he was given his favorite candy. He walked over and grabbed it, tearing it open gently with his teeth and rolling it onto his dick. 

“Please tell me if it gets too much, I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Please fuck me Az.” You begged. 

When he entered you, he thought he was going to bust right there. You were warm and inviting. Then you clenched around him and based on the gleam in your tear filled eyes, you took great pleasure in torturing him. 

“You know, when you’re used to my size I’m going to make you regret that move.” 

“Oh, so you have an ego?” You said and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your heels digging into the meat of his ass. 

But you weren’t fairing well either when it came to self control. He felt so fucking good. His piercings pressed up against each muscle inside of you. Rubbing against your walls so deliciously that your toes were curling. Your eyes filled with tears because the pleasure was so incredibly intense but you wanted more. You were ready to dive headfirst and drown in all things Azriel. 

He deeply, yet gently, thrust into you, hitting that sweet spongy spot inside of you (that nobody has ever hit before) causing you to gasp and arch into him, forcing him deeper. 

Your senses were in overdrive. Skin slapping, moaning, gasping, bed squeaking. Feeling his abs pressed against your soft stomach as your tits we’re pressed against his pecs. His head pressed into your neck as he deeply thrusted in and out of you.  

Neither of you lasted much longer. 

-After intense aftercare and very sweet words. You two decided you were a couple because you were insane for each other even after only two dates. 

-It was incredibly impulsive. But it felt good and felt like he was your forever. That’s when you believed in the saying “when you know, you know.”  

-Once you and Azriel began officially dating and calling each other ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’. He put a picture up of you at his station. You were looking at the city lights from a rooftop bar you two had gone to. You were gazing out towards the lights with a sweet smile on your face. Your hair was a mess because you had just gotten off of work and needed drinks and appetizers with your man to decompress. 

-You didn’t even know he had taken it. Which made it more meaningful for him because you weren’t posing or ‘making yourself look nice’. You were real, authentic and gazing at something you loved, the city lights. 

-Your best friend saw it and her heart felt like it grew bigger because she knew you had someone who cared for you. 

-His IPad was filled with drawings of you. Some were able to be shown but a lot were just for his eyes. He couldn’t help it. Your thighs and rolls looked like they were sculpted by Greeks themselves. So delightfully plush. 

-He also dabbles in photography. Either with his phone, polaroid or film camera. He makes you put different lingerie on so he can keep the images of you forever. 

-and jack off while you two are apart from each other. 

-This man is loyal. Not only were you at his station, but there was a polaroid in his phone case of you. That one was a bit more risque and you only allowed it to be taken and put in his phone case because his phone case was black and no one couldn’t see through it. It was just in the back of his phone as a bit of motivation to keep working for his hot girlfriend. He’d pop his phone case off and secretly peek at it. 

-it was you in a dark blue lace corset. You had posed with a hand heart against your chest and a beaming smile. It would be seen as innocent if it wasn’t for the clothes you were wearing and the fact that your nipples were seen through it. Your tits were deliciously pressed up tight against the lace cups. 

-On his lock screen was a blurry photo Feyre had snapped of you two at a party. He was kissing your temple, you were half in his arms. Your arm that was wrapped around his waist and closest to the camera. Except it was flipping off Feyre (the live photo you can hear your laugh and Feyre’s and then the camera pans down because Feyre was caught). Your eye was winking from the force of Azriel’s kiss on your temple. Your smile was wide and you were clearly laughing. 

-He stopped letting clients take their clothes off for placement tattoos. Even if in some cases it could be easier to tattoo a cleavage with the person's top off, he won’t do it. -He feels bad enough that his arms have to rest on their chest. 

-The only tits he wants to see are yours. 

-You find it hysterical that so many people fall for your man. It was a bit of masochism in your case, enjoying flaunting the fact that this God of a man was taken and happily invested in you. 

-It helped that your man was totally fine with you being a weirdo. 

-One time he bent over in front of you and you just, “I want to bite your ass.” 

“I mean, you can.” 

-You’ve tied bows around his biceps and taken a picture. You loved that photo because not only does this big buff tattooed man have a little pink bow wrapped around his biceps but there's also red kiss marks all over his arm. 

-That photo alone could get you off. 

-You’re a big fan of marking your territory. You keep red lipstick in your bag just to give him a kiss on his neck or anywhere where anybody could see it. Just to mark your territory. 

-He eats it up. Like “yes that’s my lady, yes she’s hot. and she’s all mine and i’m all hers.” 

-Usually leads to you two fucking in the bathroom. 

-He is your good boy but can also choke you the fuck out. 

“Come on, take it like a good girl.”

“Use your words, baby. I can’t decipher your babbling.” As he overstimulates you with his tongue and a vibrator. 

-He’d happily be used as your personal toy. 

-You sneak photos of him tattooing clients, it’s just so hot to see him so focused and into his job. 

-He definitely offered to tattoo you but you kept declining, then he designed a beautiful sleeve design that incorporated all of your favorite books for your one year anniversary. 

-So you got that sleeve done. 

-It was one of the only parts of your body that had ink. You were a baby with pain but it was satisfying too. The only way you sat through for a sleeve is all the kisses Azriel gave you. 

-He was never the type to like partner tattoos but he gets it with you. He has a heart with your first initial on his right ring finger as a promise to put a real ring on his left ring finger that also belongs to you. 

-At tattoo conventions, tons of artists always want to meet him. You try to encourage them to go talk to him because let’s face it, Azriel is intimidating to just walk up to. His art style is very recognizable and people love him. 

-You’re known as the Shop Sweetheart. Not only does your boyfriend work there but so does your best friend. It’s common that you drop coffee or food off if the team is working late. 

-He treated you like a queen. Nobody had ever treated you so kindly yet also messed with you like a best friend would.

-Peace and love to your girl best friend. But this man was your partner in crime and in love.

[literaryavenger]

Happy Birthday

Summary: It's your birthday and the only person who doesn't seem to be excited about it is you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death. Angst. Fluff. Language probably. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: This story was completely self-indulgent, but I hope someone out there likes it!

Masterlist

You’ve always been very reluctant to celebrate your birthday.

You haven’t had a birthday party since you were 12. The following year your mom died a couple of days before and neither you nor your family were in the mood to celebrate anything.

It wasn’t by any means unexpected, she had been sick for a few years, but it still hit you hard.

You were the youngest and were far too young when she first got sick to really understand everything going on.

You were 8 and all you really remember is watching your mom get more and more sick until eventually there was nothing more the doctors could do.

Her death hit you hard and you closed yourself off, never talking about it or even crying after the day of her funeral. To this day you’ve still never cried, in front of others or even by yourself.

You started exercising to channel all your energy, refusing to do anything more like the therapy your family suggested. 

When you were 15 you discovered SHIELD and decided you wanted to help others, so you signed up for the SHIELD Academy, working your hardest and pushing yourself to your very limit.

You ended up being not only the youngest cadet ever, but the youngest to actually graduate and then the youngest recruit at SHIELD at only 16 years old.

Natasha was very impressed when she heard about you and took a liking to you, convincing Fury to make you part of her team during her missions and teaching you everything she knows.

That’s how you ended up in the Avengers Initiative, not that you felt you didn’t deserve it since you know how hard you worked and everything you gave up to work towards this achievement. 

The team themselves were initially skeptical since you were barely 18 during the battle of New York, but they were quickly proven wrong when they saw how well you handled yourself against the Chitauri. 

You were devastated when SHIELD fell, but carried on as an Avenger, battling Ultron and then moving to the Compound with the team.

You met the actual Bucky for the first time when you were 22, during the whole Civil War thing with Baron Zemo. Like Natasha, you were on Tony’s team, fighting mostly Pietro, but the conflict eventually ended. 

It took Tony some time to get over the whole “Bucky killing his parents while brainwashed” thing, but, as he likes to say, he can’t call himself a genius without admitting that Bucky didn’t have much of a choice. 

Thanks to Tony’s help Shuri was able to find a solution to Bucky’s brainwashing faster than she would’ve alone, meaning Bucky didn’t have to go back into cryo and was pretty quickly cleared to join the team, about a year after the airport battle in Leipzig.

You were warmly accepted by everybody and, the more the team grew the more you felt at home with these people.

And now you wish you could burn down the whole compound because, somehow, Tony convinced you to have a birthday party for the first time in 13 years because, in his words, 'you only turn 25 once'.

Good news is you managed to make him limit the guest list to the team and other people close to you like Maria Hill and Fury. Bad news is you’re still gonna be the center of attention, which you hate.

You couldn’t stop Tony from making everyone dress up for the party, and you couldn’t stop the team from getting you gifts even though you insisted all you wanted was everyone together and to have fun with them since for the longest time nobody ever even knew when your birthday was. 

What you didn’t realize was that the only person more worried than you about your gifts was Bucky.

Since he joined the team the two of you have gotten close, starting with his first training with the team where he very loudly told Steve about his disbelief that someone as young and small as you could actually be an asset to the team.

You quickly put him in his place by taking him down after less than two minutes of sparring, taking full advantage of his underestimating you because he “didn’t want to hurt a pretty little thing like you.”

Admittedly he was impressed and wasn’t shy about letting you know that, while the rest of the team snickered at his initial shock when you pinned him down.

You became friends after that, not as close as you’d like but friends nonetheless.

If you were honest with yourself you’ve been harboring a little crush on the supersoldier, but he’s never shown any interest so you resigned yourself to just being his friend.

Something that you did come to treasure, though, is your and Bucky’s late night talks.

It started with you walking in on him in the kitchen on a late night where you couldn’t sleep, nothing new to you, but the two of you barely talked other than acknowledging each other.

You took a bottle of water and left.

A couple of days later you ran into him again and you stood there in silence while you made yourself a cup of tea and then left for your room.

A few days later again he was just sitting there and said nothing as you made your tea, except this time you put a cup in front of him and silently took a seat next to him at the counter.

Two nights later when you arrived at the kitchen he was already there with a cup of tea in front of him and one in front of the seat next to him.

You didn’t want to assume it was for you, but you took a chance when you noticed it was the cup you always used, a blue mug with Stitch on it that says “Let’s get weird”. Your favorite in fact.

You hesitantly sat down next to him and, without you having to ask or without even looking at you, he told you that the nights you stay up late because you can’t sleep you tend to be more quiet during the team dinners and while you hang out afterwards.

You didn’t say anything in return and just sat there, trying not to overthink how much he seemed to watch you.

But the more nights you spent like that, the more you two talked and you gathered quickly that Bucky is a very observant person, nothing more.

You loved the time you spent together after dark where you’d talk about everything and anything, but come morning it was almost as if it never happened, which you came to accept.

It weirdly made the nights you spent talking even more special, which was almost every night.

But back to the present, you’re currently getting ready with Natasha and Wanda, who know much more than you about hair and makeup and are always happy to help you out with getting ready for Stark parties. 

You put on the black cocktail dress with rhinestones all over the corset and a slit down the left side, then the three of you make your way to the party room and you take a deep breath before entering.

Everyone is already there, all dressed up in fancy clothes as they all shout “Happy Birthday”.

You laugh and say hi to everybody while they all take turns hugging you, there’s not too many people but everyone important to you is there.

Even Laura and Clint’s kids are there, which you consider a second family at this point, since Laura always did treat you like a daughter.

You hate to admit that it's a nice party.

Knowing you, everyone makes an effort to not put you too much at the center of attention and you just go around talking to your friends like every other party.

Eventually time comes for the cake and, the moment you kind of dreaded, opening the gifts.

Since it's the first birthday you allowed the team to celebrate everyone decided to go all in for your gifts, which you picked up on from the very first gift you open.

Pietro got you a first edition of “The Picture Of Dorian Gray” which is your all time favorite book, Wanda and Maria got you a leather jacket and an amazing pair of boots that you knew were expensive because you were all out shopping together when you came across them.

Steve got you a gold heart-shaped locker with a picture of the team inside it, Natasha got you a charm bracelet with a little charm to represent everyone on the team, and Sam got you a cute necklace with your birth stone on it.

When you open Fury’s gift you start laughing since it's a gun, a SIG SAUER P226 to be precise, which is very Fury.

“It was my first gun when I joined SHIELD.” He says with a smile and you smile back, knowing how much thought he put into this gift.

You open Clint’s gift next, a bow and arrow that he already taught you how to use, and Laura got you a pair of diamond earrings.

Your heart melts when you open Lila, Cooper and Nathaniel’s gifts, respectively a friendship bracelet, an Avengers action figure of yourself and a Stitch plushie.

The three of them hug you tightly as you say thank you and now you only have two gifts left, Tony’s and Bucky’s, and they’re both little boxes. 

You open Tony’s next, thinking it’s some fancy necklace or earring but you frown when you see a car key.

“Is this the key to your car?” you ask Tony, knowing full well you’re holding the key to an Audi R8 Spyder, the car Tony’s let you borrow so many times you’re now wondering if he’s gifting you his spare set of keys.

“No.” He says casually “It’s the key to your car.”

You’re even more confused and simply stare at him with your mouth gaped, not really processing the information.

“Y-you… You got me a car?!” You almost yell out of shock and everyone else starts laughing at your antics when you start basically jumping up and down and hugging Tony, squealing like a little girl.

“Well, come on, let’s go see it!” Tony says enthusiastically after you’ve calmed down, and you get up, just as enthusiastic, but are stopped by Steve’s voice.

“Wait, wait. You have one gift left.” He says, picking up the small box and giving it to you. “It’s from Bucky.”

You were so pumped up by the car, you almost forgot about it and completely miss the mischievous look Steve gives Bucky and the murderous glare Bucky gives back.

You also miss Bucky starting to protest before you open his gift, but he instantly shuts up when he sees your face falling the second you open it.

It’s a small necklace with a blue rose in it, it really looks like something you’d give a little girl more than a 25 year old woman.

You look at it for a minute, running your finger on it before you raise your head and look at Bucky.

The whole room goes silent as they all watch you worriedly, everyone noticing immediately that tears are streaming down your face.

Nobody understands what’s happening and nobody knows how to react or what to do, it’s like they’re all frozen by the sight of you being vulnerable for the first time ever. 

Meanwhile Bucky’s heart is beating so loud he’s sure everyone around him can hear it, and he feels himself starting to panic at the thought of having ruined your birthday with that stupid gift.

Everybody else got you expensive gifts and all he did was get you a small, cheap necklace that reminded him of a story you briefly talked about once on one of your late night talks about a necklace you had as a kid.

He saw it at the mall while looking for a gift for you, remembering the sweet smile you had on your face when you mentioned it and the fleeting sad look he thought he saw when you told him you lost it when you were 12.

He was really proud of himself for that gift, but the more he saw the other gifts you got the more he regretted his choice, especially after Tony gave you a fucking car.

And now you were crying, not saying anything while just looking at him.

He doesn’t know what to expect from you at the moment, nobody does, he thinks you might yell, throw his gift back at him, tell him how much you hate it and him.

But you surprise everyone by throwing your arms around Bucky’s neck, hugging him tightly while crying into his shoulder.

You honestly forgot telling Bucky about that story and certainly didn’t expect him to remember it, especially since you always got the feeling that he didn’t care about your talks as much as you.

You just assumed that come morning he deleted everything you told him to make room for more important things, and you didn’t blame him.

But he didn’t.

What you didn’t tell him about the necklace is that your mom gave it to you because blue roses were her favorite, you had that necklace since you were born but you somehow lost it the day of her funeral.

That day you lost the two most important things in your life and cried yourself to sleep, and that was the last time you allowed yourself to be weak and cry.

Until today.

Bucky hesitantly wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back hoping to get you to calm down. He looks around at the rest of the team, panicking a little and not knowing what to do.

Everyone else is as clueless as he is, never having seen you in such a state before.

Bucky starts apologizing, his heart breaking at the sight of you crying, and he feels horrible that it’s because of him.

You shake your head quickly and pull away a little to look at him, wanting to reassure him you’re not sad or angry but incredibly happy, but words refuse to come. You take a deep breath to calm yourself and finally manage to speak.

“Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.” It’s quiet, but it’s something, and it’s enough to make Bucky let out a breath of relief at knowing you don’t hate him or his gift.

He brings you back in for another tight hug, almost forgetting about everyone else in the room as you hug him back without hesitation.

You’re honestly not even embarrassed at crying, all you care about at the moment is Bucky, his arms around you while he lets you bury your face in his neck, like you’ve been wanting to do for years now.

“Happy birthday, doll.” He whispers in your ear and, for the first time in 13 years, you really feel like it is.

[physalian]

On Writing Characters with Hyper-Specific Triggers (and a PSA)

*Trigger warning for this whole post

Once upon a time, I had a roommate. Nothing looked wrong from the outside and this narcissist probably thought nothing was wrong on the inside, but there was. I knew moving in with them was a mistake, but financial circumstances demanded I shut up and try to make the most of it. Enter the longest thirteen months of aPTSD-inducing psychological stalemate I hope to never repeat again. Seven of which were on overdrive.

The why doesn’t matter. The how doesn’t matter. What matters is that this roommate was so toxic, there was no point in attempting to talk things out because any little thing could be a land mine for starting an argument and it didn’t matter what casualties got caught in the crossfire, so long as this person “won”. Casualties including our friendship. So if any little thing, anything at all, could be a land mind, what do you do if not try to completely avoid them? For seven months.

This person’s work schedule was incredibly erratic, but they were gone more hours than not, and when they were home, they were usually asleep. In those few overlapping hours where we were both awake, I could not leave my room for fear of said verbal land mines. If I wanted to cook, leave the apartment, get anything from the living room or my desk that I had to abandon, get more water from the fridge, I had to do it before they got home, or after they went to bed, and I could never predict when they’d be home.

Luckily (or unluckily), my room faced the parking lot, and this roommate drove a car that made a very specific sound. From the moment I heard that car from my room, I had about 20 seconds to shut down whatever I was doing in the apartment, retreat to my room, and lock the door. Overreacting? Potentially, I wasn’t in any physical danger, but this was seven months of near complete isolation from any other friends, and the fear of making it worse kept me silent.

So, 20 seconds from the moment I hear the telltale whine of that engine. If I couldn’t hear the car, our front door had a lock that chimes and I had about 7 seconds from the first chime to the door opening to get the fuck out of the way. I lost weight that I couldn’t afford to lose from being unable to cook past a certain time in the evening and staying locked in my room on their days off.

Seven months of only having a door chime and an engine to tell me when it was safe and when I had to run.

—

These chime locks are the new normal and one year removed from that apartment, every time I hear it and I’m already stressed, it’s a trigger.

Every time I’m on the highway and I see a dark grey sedan of that make, that is the most important car on the road until I make sure it’s not their car.

Every time I see a dark grey sedan parked in reverse, as they habitually did, that is the most important car in the parking lot until I make sure it’s not theirs.

Every time I have to drive near a certain location where they work, I am watching for that car.

I could pick it out from 200 others. I know the license plate, I know the license plate frame, I know what sticks to the windshield, I know what hangs from the rearview mirror. I would know that car rusted and crushed in an impound lot.

So. Today I drive home and I pass a rear-parked car one turn before my unit, and I think to myself, “that’s not X’s car, but I noticed it, I’m never not going to notice it.” It wasn’t the same make, model, or color, it was just a sedan with its nose sticking out and that was enough.

Then I turn the corner. And there it is. My ex-roommate’s car.

I shit you not it was like I had a warning from the Universe before it hit.

I don’t need to check the windshield, I know it’s theirs. I’ve seen it in my complex once before. The last time I did, I’d parked my own car and waited, got out, and hid between two others in the dark, waiting for this person to leave.

Today, in broad daylight, that car is empty. They happened to arrive while I was gone for 30 minutes. So I park, and I wait. I watch that car from my side mirror. I scan the sidewalk for them and I don’t see anything. I have frozens that can’t wait.

I’m thinking to myself, of all the parking spots in all the parking lots, of all the apartments in this godforsaken town, you parked right behind my spot.

Nothing happened, and even if we crossed paths, nothing probably would have happened (that’s how they worked, pretending nothing was ever wrong and that I was the crazy one). But I still waited, and when I decided to leave, I moved as fast as possible without drawing attention. One whole year removed from that person.

—

It doesn’t take physical abuse, or yelling and screaming and death threats. It doesn’t need to be a parent or a sibling, a relative, or a romantic partner. This person never touched me, never screamed (though they did yell on occasion), never actually threatened anything. They never called me names, were never direct with any of their insults, were never explicitly petty. I had no proof. Ever.

I just had example after example of every time they cut me down to feel smart, picked on me to feel better about themselves and project their own insecurities and jealousy, or used me as their emotional punching bag because of choices they made.

So a year after completely cutting them out, there’s that fucking car parked outside my apartment.

Media portrays “triggers” usually only in characters who are veterans. Noises that sound like gunshots, or thunder, fireworks, because that’s what we think of when we see PTSD—people who fought in wars.

It’s not like I sit around fixating on that car or that door chime (and actually with exposure to that chime every day with no consequences it’s gotten better), but that’s the point. They come out of nowhere when you least expect it. They don’t prepare you for their arrival, they just happen.

I didn’t have anything close to a panic attack, but nothing in the universe was more important in that moment than making sure I didn’t run into this person, until I calmed down.

Trigger attacks don’t have to be this big flashy thing, born of big flashy movements. It can be something as subdued as going quiet, staring at the thing, and your brain dumping everything else except all the potential outcomes of not escaping this situation immediately. It’s just a car. It’s not like an evil Big Dick truck with smokestacks and truck nuts and a MAGA flag on the back. It’s just a nerdy sedan that could belong to anyone.

—

So. PSA.

What you think might be an overreaction by someone you care about, they probably think is an overreaction, too. Did I want to have fate shit on my day and spend extra minutes under the hot sun when I have chores to do? No. But it happened.

What you think a trigger is supposed to look like or what the symptoms are supposed to be are not just what’s dramatic and flashy for the TV. Here I am writing a whole blog post about it instead of just moving on and I can't go back and check for typos because I don't want to have to reread it.

Do you want to die on a hill of “get over it” when someone you care about would love nothing more? Just. Be there for them.

And to writers, artists, anyone—it doesn’t have to be dramatic to be the most upsetting part of someone’s day. Including such simple things as a door chime, or the sound of an engine, really helps with visibility so people like me don’t think “I’m not allowed to feel this way, I didn’t actually suffer like a shell-shocked veteran”.

Most of us never will. That doesn’t make any of our hardships any less valid. Please be kind.

[ghostofwriting]

Arranged

Arranged

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: allusions to sex, cheating,

Note: just something I had rattling around in my brain for the longest time.

Word Count: 2,215

No one warned her. She likes to pride herself on not being a complete idiot so how did she not see this coming? The hints were all there. 

Her father is one of the richest men on Kildare Island so naturally, ever since her birth, she has been told that she would marry a just as wealthy if not wealthier man. There was no room for her to experience real love. It was a waste of time as she wouldn’t get to choose who she dated or even married. 

Everything was arranged for her. Her dad would find an eligible suitor and she would marry him. 

She was fine with this. Of course she was, it was all she had ever known. 

She would be marrying Rafe Cameron. 

Her father had called her down to his study and broken the news to her right then and there. She had heard his name, seen him around at all the high-class events their families attended but she had never exchanged one word with him. 

Once the initial shock of finding out she’s getting married in less than a year wears off, she runs to her room where her best friend is reading a book on her bed. 

“It’s Rafe.” Her best friend jumps up and squeals. 

“No way!” She grabs her phone and looks him up immediately. Not knowing what she’s looking for, she’s sure that he won’t post his wedding announcement to someone he hasn’t even had a conversation with. 

“There’s this girl all over his feed.” She takes the phone from her friend and scrolls, pausing to look at one picture in particular where he’s giving the girl a piggyback.

“That’s his best friend, they’ve known each other since they were three, and their moms are best friends.”

She scrolls some more and blushes, seeing pictures of him shirtless at the beach. He’s attractive. He’s probably one of the most desirable men on the island. He’s never seen around with anyone though, and doesn’t take any of the ladies up on their offers. 

She would be okay with this. Not only because she has no choice but because it’s Rafe Cameron.

They meet on a Sunday afternoon, the sun is shining, the birds are singing, and it couldn’t be more perfect. Except that the girl from his Instagram is here. Before his father steps in, they’re whispering to each other in the furthest corner away from her and her father. Her hand is on his bicep and he holds her like he’s afraid she’ll float away. 

“Thank you for coming,” Ward says walking into the room, extending a hand for her father and then her. 

“It is our pleasure.” Her father says. 

“Rafe, don’t be rude, come greet our guests.” Rafe hesitates but the girl nods, stepping away from him.  

Ward gives the girl a look and a half smile.

 “you may go.” Rafe looks at his father and then at the girl shaking his head. 

“Dad-” Ward puts up a hand to stop him. 

“Let y/n go and say hi to Sofia, she’ll be your future wife after all.”

The girl, y/n, Ward had called her, leaves the room and she can see how tense Rafe becomes. 

Sofia should have known. 

===

They start dating, or the courting process. He takes her to fancy restaurants, clubs, events, and theaters, but they are never alone. It's like he’s trying to avoid talking to her for too long. He’s always busy at work or having to travel. She hadn’t had a moment alone with him since their first meeting when both their fathers gave them some time to talk and even then Rafe kept checking his phone.

She thinks she could love him. He’s very kind, he thinks of her when he goes to get himself a drink, he brings her back presents from his travels, and introduces her as his girl to all his friends. 

All of them except for one. 

When she met Topper she was introduced as his girl, it was a casual party, with no real formalities. Topper had given him a strange look that she only noticed because she was directly looking at him. If she hadn’t she would have missed it because it was gone in a second.  

“Nice to meet you Sofia, welcome to his life. I’m excited to see where it goes.” She finds his words weird but she lets it go, smiling at him. 

“Likewise.”

When she met Sarah she was with John B and JJ. Rafe introduced her as his girlfriend, Sarah had a tight-lipped smile and JJ had tried to elbow John B discreetly but John B’s reaction had given him away. 

“Nice to meet all of you.” Sofia said.

“You too!” Sarah chimed in. 

“You should come around the house some time and meet the rest of the gang.” John B extends the invite to her, Rafe clears his throat and Sarah stiffens. She’s about to nod in approval when JJ’s voice breaks through the awkward silence John B’s words had created. 

“That’s not a good idea.” Her eyes snap to JJ. He’s not looking at her, his face is stoic and he’s looking at Rafe. She looks up at Rafe and he’s looking at JJ, head nodding. 

“Yeah, I’m sure you could meet them somewhere else.” The atmosphere is charged with something she doesn’t recognize. 

“Hey, will you give me a moment?” Rafe asks her, shuffling her over to the drinks table. 

“Yeah, sure, I’ll find Melanie and text you where I am.” He gives her a small smile and nods. 

“Is she here?” She hears him ask one of the three pogues as she walks away. Sarah is the one who responds. She hears her say something about the second floor and when she turns around to see Rafe’s reaction, he’s already walking in the direction of the stairs. 

He never comes to find her. 

He doesn’t introduce her to the girl until a month after they start dating. 

She gets introduced to her as Sofia. Not his girl, not his girlfriend. Just Sofia. Hey, this is Sofia. 

The girl introduces herself and she is so sickeningly sweet that Sofia feels they could be best friends too. 

She takes her hand and walks her around Tannyhill, showing her all the things that there are to do. She shows her where they keep the best snacks, where the movie room is, and where not to go and leads her up to Rafe’s room. She’s been in Rafe’s room before, he’s her boyfriend. The way that y/n walks in, it’s like she lives there. She’s so comfortable, going through all his stuff, showing her where he keeps anything she may need. She opens up a drawer and tells her that those things are hers but she should feel free to use them. 

She doesn’t think anything of it. They’re best friends, they have known each other since they were kids. Of course, she has things she keeps at his house. In his room. 

Rafe’s mother is home for once. She walks by his room and spots them. 

“Oh, my sweet angel!” She waltzes over to y/n and grabs her face in between her hands. “How I have missed you. You haven’t been around much, why is that?” She looks to Rafe and then back to the face, she’s holding. She gives Sofia a side glance. 

“I see, well. You are welcome anytime. And I have spoken to Ward about the situa-” She gets cut off by y/n and Rafe.

“It’s okay.” y/n says. 

“You did?” Rafe says with more urgency, walking up to his mom. 

“I have sweet boy. And I will keep trying.” Rafe mumbles a small thank you, she sees his hand hovering over y/n, like he wants to touch her but he pulls back, clearing his throat and looking at her like he just remembered she was there too. 

She doesn’t know what situation they are talking about and before she can gather the courage to ask, his mother is gone and y/n is saying something about getting food with Sarah and Louisa. 

“Your whole family loves her very much don’t they?” she asks Rafe, sitting at the edge of his bed. 

He longingly looks to where his best friend once was, sighing, “yeah.”

===

She’s at Tannyhill again for dinner this time. There are a few more people than usual. A few people she’s never met, one being Barry, and a few other of Rafe’s friends. 

She’s been mingling with all the guests, making her rounds as the new heiress of her father’s company and she’s exhausted. She walks into the study for a few minutes alone. She doesn’t fully close the door in case someone needs her, she can hear them call. 

She’s looking at all of Ward’s trinkets when she hears voices outside the study, whispers. 

“What do you think of her?” Topper, she thinks.

“She’s no Missus Country Club that’s for sure.” She doesn’t recognize the voice. 

“No one is ever going to be her. He's crazy for letting this go on. If I had what they had and someone was threatening it I would grab her and leave the country.” Topper adds. 

They aren’t mentioning names so she’s confused. So curious to know who they are talking about. 

“She’s a nice girl. I just hate that so many people are being hurt because of this.” Sarah. 

“Rafe is going to lose his mind when he finds out.” She thinks this must be Kelce. Recognizes him from phone calls with Rafe.

“I don’t blame her, if I were in her shoes, I couldn’t stand by and watch as the love of my life got married to someone else.” Who’s getting married? 

“Has anyone talked to her?” There’s silence. 

“My mom is trying to fight this so hard with my dad but he just won’t let up.”

“Your dad is such an asshole.” the voice she doesn’t recognize again. 

“Tell me about it. It’s the way he’s pretending everything is okay too? Like he doesn’t see him falling apart or having panic attacks.” Is Rafe having panic attacks? He’s been fine with her. He must be overworked. Her dad had told her it was a really busy season. 

“Bet it doesn’t help that she’s ignoring him.” She wants to scream ‘who!’ Who are they talking about? 

“Hey, we should go.” A new voice pops in, John B. 

“We’ll see you at the party later?” Topper asks, and she assumes the question is directed at Sarah and John B. 

“I wouldn’t want to miss the big blowout.” It must be Barry if he’s leaving with John B and Sarah. 

She waits a few minutes before leaving the study. She sees Rafe talking to his mother and Louisa who glares at her when they make eye contact. She smiles at her but Louisa stomps off. Rafe looks from his mother to his sister before following after her.

“This place is loaded. I can’t believe you’re marrying into this.” Melanie comes up beside her. 

“Do you think something weird is going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s a lot of whispering, things being said without being said.”

“I think you’re just nervous and trying to find a way out of it.”

“There’s no way out of it even if I wanted one.” Melanie’s smile fades. 

“You really like him huh?” she nods 

“He’s everything I have dreamed of. This union will set both of us up forever. It is just what we need.”

“And he’s good in bed?” her friend jokes making her blush

“We haven’t.” Melanie frowns

“What do you mean you haven’t? The Rafe Cameron hasn’t fucked you yet?”

“Melanie!” She gasps

“Oh I’m sorry, you’ve been dating for more than a month. Is he waiting for the wedding night?”

“We’ve barely even kissed.”

“That’s concerning. A 20 year old isn’t trying to get his dick wet?”

“How are we friends?” She says, putting her face in her hands. 

“I’m the one that keeps you sane.”

===

Rafe takes her to Topper’s party after dinner. 

Everyone is there. His friends, her friends, and some tourons. 

The first thing she notices is y/n, who hasn’t been around for a while hanging off some guy’s neck. Her chest pressed up against his as he kissed her neck.

She spots Melanie and drags Rafe who has gone eerily quiet next to her. 

“Finally, I was starting to think you weren’t coming.” She grabs the drink that Melanie offers her and looks up at her boyfriend. He’s looking in the direction where they had come from, his ears red. He probably wanted to say hi to his friends and she didn’t let him. 

“Oh sorry, baby, go and say hi to everyone. I’ll be right here.”

He doesn’t say a word, just marches off. 

When he’s been gone for over thirty minutes, she goes and looks for him. 

“Have you seen Rafe?” She asks some random. The person points to the upstairs area and she makes her way. 

She comes up to Topper’s room and pauses. She has a weird feeling. Before she can open the door it flies open and she comes face to face with a tear streaked y/n. 

y/n tries to fix herself up and puts a fake smile on her face. She sees Rafe get up and make his way into the bathroom.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’ve gotta go.” She says moving past her and down the hall. 

“Rafe?” She calls for him, following where she had seen him go. The water that was running turned off. 

“Are you okay?” she parrots her earlier words. 

“Yeah.” He looks like he’s been crying too.  

“What’s wrong?” He moves around her and into Topper’s room. 

“Nothing.”

“Rafe, I can see you’ve been crying, wh-”

“Sofia. Drop it okay?” He grabs his jacket off Topper’s bed and goes to leave.

“Do you want to stay? I’m going home.” She follows him in a hurry, her legs barely keeping up with his long strides. 

“I’ll come with you.” She says finally catching him and looping her arm with his. 

“Fuck this.” Rafe says under his breath. y/n’s sitting on the guy’s lap. As if she hadn’t just been crying. 

She wants to press him more on what happened but he’s angry now and she doesn’t want to make it worse.”

When they get back to Tannyhill, Rafe is a little more handsy. More than he has ever been. He walks her to his room and pushes her down on his bed. 

“Do you want to?” He asks her. She nods eagerly. She does. She likes him so much. 

===

Everything’s normal for a few days. She’s dealing with her father’s company, going to school, she’s busy. Rafe hasn’t come around in a little bit so she decides to drop by Tannyhill unannounced. 

One of the maids lets her in and tells her that no one is home. She decides she’ll wait in Rafe’s room. His door is shut when she gets up there. His door is never closed when he isn’t home. She knocks but doesn’t hear anything so she walks in. When she does, she hears the shower running. There’s a lot of movement, she can hear something fall.

She tries the bathroom door but it’s locked. 

“Rafe?” The movement stops and everything goes silent. 

“Hey! I’ll be right out.” He sounds out of breath. 

“Can I join you?” She asks, they were only together that one time and she’s hoping for a repeat sometime soon. 

“I have to be somewhere in 10 I can’t. Just wait for me downstairs.” He’s been very busy too. He’s probably freshening up from golfing.

“Okay, see you in a bit.” 

She’s waiting for exactly 15 minutes before he comes downstairs. 

“There you are.” He’s flushed, probably from the rush of having to leave. 

She gets up and hugs him. The front door slams and he flinches. 

“What was that?”

“Probably one of the maids. Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

“Didn’t you have a meeting?”

“I’m already late, so I’ll them something came up and we can grab some food?” She likes that she does these things for her. 

“Let’s go.”

===

“It’s not easy for me either Rafe! It hurts.”

She’s on Rafe’s balcony, and she can’t see them but she hears them, they’re downstairs, underneath her. 

“I know. I know it does but if you could just wait.”

“For what? A miracle? No. I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. It hurts too much.”

“You said you would never leave me, we knew this would happen and you promised.”

“It’s so much harder living through it than I thought it could ever be.” Her voice is shaky. 

“I’m sorry. Please just tell me what to do.”

“There’s nothing to do. This is it.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I have to go. 

“y/n.” He calls after her a few more times and then goes silent. 

The door opens a little while later, Ward announcing his arrival and another screaming match ensues when Rafe corners him. She can’t hear what it’s about but Rafe sounds desperate. 

Ward says something about contracts and his hands being tied and wishing he had said something sooner. Rafe yells back about his mom trying to get him out of it and Ward not listening. She hears Ward apologize and tells him that something is over. To let go and that he has bigger responsibilities now. 

Rafe storms out of the house and doesn’t come back that night or the next. 

==

She hears from Melanie that y/n’s gone. That must have been what Rafe and her were fighting about. Her friendship is very important to him and he didn’t want her to leave. 

She tells Melanie about the blowout and about Rafe being MIA. 

“Maybe the whispers do mean something.” She says. 

“What do you mean?” She asks her friend. 

“Rafe and y/n.” She looks at Melanie, confused.

“Sof, come on.”

“No. Rafe would never. They’re just friends. She’s gone now anyway so what does it matter?”

“You were always trained for this weren’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Nevermind.” 

==

Rafe comes back after two days away but it’s not the same. His mother and Sarah are worried about him. He won’t leave his bed let alone his room. They have tried getting him to see doctors, but nothing seems to be working. Sofia even tries talking to him but gets nothing out of him. He just tells her to go away and leave him alone. 

A week goes by and she sees him out and about again. To anyone else, he looks normal. To her, he looks crazy. His pupils are blown, and his hair is messy and unkempt. Nothing like the Rafe she met. He was always so put together, and right now he looks like he could burst into tears at any moment.

They go back to his house and she lets him seek comfort in the only way he’ll accept it from her. When she wakes up he’s gone. 

===

Sarah calls her asking if she knows where he is. She tells her that no and that’s when Sarah tells her that they haven’t seen him in a week. They are scared and worried for him because he’s been doing drugs. Cocaine. 

She had never known Rafe to do any of that. He was always very proper, never stepping out of line. Sarah asked her to keep her posted. 

Her mother called her later that day, telling her to get to the hospital immediately. Rafe had been in an accident. 

She’s the last one to get there. His family, his friends, they are all there. Except for one. 

She walks in and a hysterical Sarah is being held back by John B. 

“This is your fault! You are so selfish all you care about is money! Look at where he is now Dad! If he dies it is on you!”

Dies? Rafe’s mother looks at her and walks over. 

“He’s unconscious, they had to pump his stomach. He overdosed.” Sofia can tell she’s trying to be strong but the tears in her eyes keep coming. 

“Why? How?” her words go unheard as the doctor walks into the waiting room. 

“You can go see him now. Immediate family only.” Sarah is the first one to go, followed by her mother and father. Louisa hangs back, looking at her. 

“You did this.” She spits at her, running after her family. 

She’s so confused, so stressed out and she just wants to know how her boyfriend got himself in this situation. 

Everyone falls quiet. 

“You aren’t the cause of this. You’re just another pawn.” Kiara speaks up, not looking up from where her hands are, tangled with JJ’s.

===

Later when everyone vacated the waiting room after hearing word that Rafe would be okay, she walked towards his room. Coming to a stop when she hears Ward’s voice. 

“I’m so sorry son. This is all my fault. I am so sorry.” Ward is speaking through tears. 

“I’m going to fix this, I’ll put an end to everything and you’ll be okay. You’ll be happy again. I promise.” An end to what? Why was Rafe sad?

“Did you call her?” Rafe’s voice comes out weak. 

“I did. She’s on her way home.” who? y/n? Why does Rafe want her?

“Thank you, dad.” 

“I’ll be better.”

===

She doesn’t get to visit him at the hospital. He didn’t want to see anyone. She hears from her mother that he’s finally out of the hospital and she jumps out of her bed, quickly changing. 

When she walks into Tannyhill, there are flowers, gift baskets, and balloons all with ‘get well soon’ messages littered across the tables and desks. 

“He’s just in his room miss.”

“Thank you.”

She hears laughter coming from his room, a girl. She knows that laugh even though the last time she heard that voice it was screaming at her boyfriend. 

She opens the door shyly and both their heads turn to her. y/n is sitting on the bed next to him, his head is on her shoulder as she scrolls through her phone. 

“Hi.” Rafe looks at Sofia and then the girl next to him, having a silent conversation in between them.

“I’ll be in Sarah’s room.” She hops out of his bed and through the doors, not without a small but sad smile directed at her. 

“We need to talk.” He says sitting up.

“Okay.”

“My dad is going to put an end to this arrangement. We don’t have to pretend anymore.”

“I wasn’t pretending.”

“Look, Sofia. I’m sorry that you were put through this. I wish I could have convinced him earlier before you got dragged into this.”

“Convinced him of what?”

“To let me marry y/n.” He’s so blunt about it,  like it’s obvious like she’s stupid for not knowing. 

“What?”

“y/n’s my girlfriend, Sof.” Her mouth drops in shock. 

“But you and I, we-” She’s at a loss for words.

“Yeah we took a break, she couldn’t do it.”

“Couldn’t do what? Cheat?”

“I didn’t cheat on her.”

“Not on her. On me.” She snaps back at him.

“None of that was real. This was an arrangement.”

“It was real to me, Rafe! You took me on dates and you slept with me! You told me we were getting married.”

“y/n had broken up with me, I wasn’t in a good headspace.”

“Fuck you. No.”

“No what?”

“No. This arrangement is not over. You are going to marry me because it’s what my family deserves and I don’t care if we have to pretend for the rest of our lives.” She can feel the lump in her throat getting bigger. Her eyes starting to water.

“My father is putting an end to the contract. It’s over. You can go.” She shakes her head. 

“How could you do this?”

“Sofia, you are not the only one who was brought up with the idea of never having true love, of having to settle. I knew my dad was going to do this to me. I was fully prepared to have to play nice and pretend. But I found the real thing and then I couldn’t do it. I won’t do it.”

“I loved you.”

“No, you didn’t. You love the idea of what your family made this out to be. You don’t know what real love is. I hope you find it.” He’s so calm. Everything in her life is falling apart and he doesn’t care. 

===

She sees them for the first time at the Country Club. She has never seen him as happy as he looks right now. With y/n hanging off his arm, his hands find her, not a moment goes by where he isn’t touching her. 

How could she not have seen it? She was so stupid. All his friends laugh around her, talk to her, and engage with the girl like they never did with her. She should have been able to tell. 

They all knew. They knew she was his everything and that Sofia was just some obstruction getting in the way of forever. 

The hints were all there. 

[heavenbarnes]

completely self indulgent thoughts about older!bf simon inspired by today's events at work. I work in tech/sales and a lot of my days are spent setting up new phones for people who are 35+, that for the life of them, can't figure out technology. just thinking about older!bf simon needing to get a new phone and asks reader for her thoughts, but when reader starts talking about storage size or sim cards he gets confused and just tells her "pick whatever love, I trust your judgement" not just because he does in fact, trust her judgement, but also because he can't he bothered trying to learn and understand.

have many thoughts about this.

friend, 90% of what i write is entirely self indulgent- we’ve got to do it 🫶🏼

it’s a miracle you convinced older bf!simon to finally get rid of that god forsaken flip phone and start working with an actual smartphone.

granted, it was like pulling teeth (yes the prospect of receiving nudes whilst he was deployed helped) but what mattered was he’d finally entered the 21st century.

and then he drops his cellphone on the drive and manages to boot it into the side of the neighbour’s garage. the thing was absolutely munted by the time it’d come off the end of simon’s steel cap.

which is why you’re standing in the middle of the electronics store looking at endless tables of cellphones and simon looks like he’s there at gunpoint.

“i ‘ave been held at gunpoint, was better than this”

so you lead him to the smartphones that are smart but not too smart, the ones that look hard to break or get wrong. they also look older than half the people working in the store, but that’s besides the point.

“can i help you both with anything?”

right on cue, a young but cheery guy appears across the table with a lanyard that tells you his name is hunter and he’s ready to help!

“no”

your elbow fits nicely under simon’s ribcage as you gear up to play hunter’s defence lawyer for however long this interaction is going to take.

“hi hunter, this one is looking for a new smartphone- what do you recommend?”

and while hunter does a standup job at explaining the benefits of a handful of phones he probably hasn’t sold to anyone under 75, simon is suddenly well engaged.

“and we’ve got a selection of cases, just regular ones or tough ones”

“need t’be tough, don’t want the fucker breakin’ when i’ve got someone in a headlock”

hunter pales and you veeeery slowly turn to simon with a look on your face that begs to know what the actual fuck is wrong with him.

“oh simon, you comic trailblazer- you know what, you’ve been so helpful hunter, thank you!”

you cut the kid loose as he tries to leave the table without taking his eyes off simon, who coincidentally is doing the exact same thing to him.

“would it kill you to let him help us?!”

“just about, didn’t like the way he looked at ‘ya”

the kid didn’t look a day out of school and naturally your better half has to pick a fight with any guy that so much as exists within your atmosphere.

he’s lucky he’s so handsome.

“ugh, which one do you prefer? 32GB? 64?”

“whaddyou’ reckon?”

and you’re about to let out the longest sigh known to man when you catch the look on his face.

that same look he gives you when he’s dressed up for dinner or just come back from a haircut, the look he gives you that tells you he’s looking for your opinion.

approval

“32 would do you, i don’t think you need that much space”

he grunts before he pulls you into his side, taking you both to the counter so he can get you to say all that again to your helpful attendee.

“oi, hunter”

poor guy nearly jumps out of his skin but manages to settle when he realises he’s about to close the sale, even manages to upsell that tough case.

simon settles once he’s back in the car with you, eyes scanning the box his phone comes in and grumbling something under his breath.

when you ask him to speak up you immediately wish you hadn’t.

“lost all those videos ‘f yours, better be enough space f’the new ones”

[meanbossart]

Hello! I love your work, and you may see my in the comments from time to time. I do have an intense question about your headcanon DU drow/Astarion relationship (TW: Abuse)

How would drow react if Star ever wanted to take a break from their relationship, however brief it would be? If ever Star wanted to travel alone and take some some time to work on himself, would drow accept this and allow Star to be alone? Or would drow’s abusive/obsessive nature take hold and keep Star within his line of sight? I ask because it must be traumatic to jump from one intense relationship to the next, especially since Star’s relationship with Cazador was completely abusive. When would Star have the time to truly dive into introspection and understand himself as a full being and not an owned object?

This question doesn’t apply to the AU’s (unless you want to answer from those perspectives too!)

Boy, how I wish I could take a year sabbatical to finish up ANE... I have so much to say about this but I need to hold back the slightest bit because of potential spoilers.

As it stands right now (as in - from the moment that their relationship became "official" and up until the current events in the fic) DU drow would not take that well. He would understand it as an attempt at breaking up with him, for certain, and just become kind of frozen at the prospect of anything happening to Astarion while he's out of his sight.

But also, It's worth noting that these two have not been apart for longer than a couple of hours since the day they met, which in my personal fiction means that they have been around each other 24/7 (or 24/10?) for 5 months straight. For Astarion, that's the longest anyone he's ever slept with has been alive for; and for DU drow that's just been his entire life literally for as long as he can remember. Splitting up would be scary for understandable reasons for the both of them. I think they both have horrific anxieties about being apart that they aren't even aware of, which makes getting over this hurdle ever the more crucial.

I don't think DU drow would turn horrifically abusive if the situation were to come up in the "now", but he'd probably employ some degree of manipulation to try and make Astarion change his mind without realizing it; bringing up how bad his chances are on his own, doubt his real motivations for going away, bring up his own sanity as if he still depends on him to exercise restraint... Concerns that are genuine, even fair, but just kind of mask the real problem which is how scared he is to be alone again.

Unless... DU drow were to realize how detrimental to himself and his relationship it is to rely on and expect to be relied upon by a singular person at all times, to the point where without them he feels as if there is absolutely nothing else to life - because, in a way, there isn't; If he were to have a difficult day and Astarion and Shadowheart weren't around(not that he's even that open about his feelings with either of them, to begin with), he'd just have to sit down and fester in that negativity, with nothing to filter it through or occupy himself with. DU drow is too concerned with coming off as self sufficient and strong in their eyes, he romanticizes both of those relationships and enjoys the narrative pay-offs they provide him with - they fit into his idea of who he is too well, and that makes actual growth difficult. Astarion does a fairly good job at pushing him into introspecting more, but if he isn't even around to do that... Well 🤷

Once DU drow has that something or someone that forces him to approach himself from a different perspective, he could start to let that shit go. Just as Astarion would probably be doing the same thing somewhere else, with someone else. It will happen eventually and they will be better people for it - not for the world, but at least for each other.

Thank you for the question! The intense ones are my favorites.