#and I should've seen the signs before now
the-halfling-prince · 10 months
Me: what I'm totally neurotypical idk what you're talking about-
The the little annoying voice inside my head that I argue with for fun: Remember that summer after eighth grade where you watched How to Train Your Dragon four times every single day for two months and by the time summer was over you could quote the entire goddamn movie by heart?
Me: what that didn't- This is Berk, it's twelve days north of hopeless and a few degrees south of freezing to death. It is located solidly on the meridian of mis-
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anantaru · 12 days
I was wondering how would Alhaitham and Ayato would react to hearing the safe word in the middle of the act? Like they pushed reader's limits, they seem to be pretty rough and demanding in bed and that's kinda scary sometimes
cw. after saying the safe word, a lil angst, fem! reader, heavily comforting you
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ayato, who would— and such goes in the generality of standings, without stating, express leaden depicted signs of embodied guiltiness for turning you, his darling, he devotedly treasured, this uncomfortable and hurting during an endearing time where he should've coddled you with a sundry of effusive pleasure.
conceivably, ayato might've fell in to be inordinately rough tonight as he was severely frustrated from his own bottled up emotions— one of the leading factors being the tracked down obvious that he hasn't seen you nor spend sufficient time with you in what felt like plentiful years.
his troubled breath was stranded immovable in his glued down throat upon listening to you suddenly cry out the safe word he was sure would never be used by any of you— to proceed, ayato had directly pulled out of you, the touch cautious, as controlled as possible as to not dispense any more damage before really saying anything, he can barely marge his eyes on you and it broke his heart that he was the reason you experienced pain— when he should've loyally lavaged you with nothing but pure comfort.
supplementary he puts forth your name in a tottery declare and then staggers through his frazzled breathing, "are you okay, please— please take your time." ayato eases himself back into this pivotal situation, but he will not touch you, he keeps his hands away from you. "i apologize with my entire heart— i did not mean for this to happen." as to bring grave attention in his sentence, he closely whispers an inch lower, soothingly, "i am so so sorry."
ayato will wait a fair enough of much required time, additionally giving you copious reasonable space before you, yourself, have allowed him to come close again. His glimmering eyes fall to your bare, trembling body as to calmly throw a silky blanket at your naked frame to have you a sprinkle more shielded and protected as well as have your body heat rise up again.
while you aided him to lean back into your arms, ayato breaks apart from within, bit by bit, his body was stilling and sheened of cold sweat, but it's about patience now— and he knows, he has to keep a clear head as always, he mustn't let his emotions run free.
"it's okay ayato." you close your arms around his neck and it almost brings him to tears— such spoken tears that he originally severed off himself earlier, the same way he had done so his whole life.
"it is not, i should've known better."
family was everything to ayato and you were a part of his. On this ending night he had done nothing more than to spoil you and apologize a handful more times, you let his warm palms seep into your gladdened skin and your eyes flutter close of the heavy tiredness— you realize he was warm but his breathing sounded patched together, even though he tried to hide it endlessly.
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alhaitham, whose flexed up muscles loosened up the immediate wounded second of your excruciating voice thickly closing around his ear shells. This uncomfortable weight on his chest, or the penetrating shock in his eyes, he was aware that he unarguably went overboard this night, for certain, and promptly backed off your tremulous body without accidentally creating added problems.
with how he had been largely shadowing over yourself, he could easily perceive the state of your low lidded eyes— your vision had turned entirely blurry which was the straight up cause of warm tears simmering from each twist of your eyes.
"do not rush yourself." not at all did alhaitham appear as confident and collected as he usually was, "i apologize - i apologize, i don't know what—" your hard processed breaths overwhelmingly shook at each explosive word of him, it was demanding for you to state something, taxing on your emotions while at the same time cloaking back your cried which he had fortunately discerned himself, then stopping in midst his own sentencing, yet cursing himself.
it's not as if alhaitham doesn't want to do anything, all he craved for was to enclose his large arms around yourself and apologize once more— though he does nothing, not for now at least, he waits until you do something instead, after all, crossing your boundaries again would be the last thing he had in mind.
"can you-" he noiselessly jolts back when detecting your broken voice in the dim room, you mutely wrap your hand around his wrist, "can you please .." and he knows what you meant, in the wake of it, it wasn't back breaking to see through your quavery ways of stating.
he crumbles next to your body and closes his arm around your waist, your eyes were swelled up and with one gentle palm he shushed away the wetness on your cheeks, but remained careful in his proceedings.
"i'm sorry." you shake your head at his strangled heaves, applying yourself up forward into his chest, "it's okay." - "i know you would never hurt me on purpose."
but even with your presented reassurance, his heart burned, he huffs his warm breath on your forehead and presses his lips on your head, his hands in process of moving unsure on where to wavelessly rest themselves on. "it will never happen again."
he recollects himself, his words holding all meaningful purpose behind them, "i know." you smoother yourself further into him, systematically calming down more and feeling yourself back into his body.
"you're everything."
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©2023 anantaru do not share, copy, translate any of my work
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veintrry · 3 months
winter greetings and their departures.
wanderer x gn!reader, sweet & soft fluff, emotional angst, loss, memory loss.
warning! minor spoilers for wanderers backstory and major spoilers for 3.3 sumeru story quest. 4.3k words.
an: hi this is me b4 writing this and i feel like this is gonna ruin me.
edit: I'm ruined. I hate everything. part 2!
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There was never much that Winter would bring to Snezhnaya, after all, it was always winter here. From the piping hot delicacies, the layers of clothing, the deep inches of snow. You practically didn't need to wait for Winter to come. However, what it does bring is gifts, and one day you received a puppet at your doorstep, unbeknownst to you that is.
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A couple of weeks ago you had found a boy slumped up against the wall of your house. Seeing this as you hummed to yourself planning to spend the day shopping, you obviously were surprised at the figure that donned a large hat and light clothing sat unconscious against the wall. At first you had assumed that maybe it was a drunk who didn't know better, however, after feeling his temperature, you decided to leave the pondering for later.
After a tough struggle of getting him into your home, you laid him on your couch, draping him in multiple blankets. Immediately after doing so you put a hand to feel for his pulse but nothing came through and panic surged through your body. You tried feeling for his heart but nothing beat underneath your palm and there was no sign of his chest ever having been raising up and down, even back when you found him outside. Had he died out in front of your house that long ago? You felt guilty for not being there soon enough but you were wondering just for how long had he been out there? Why did no one help?
You didn't exactly know what to do till you saw him open his eyes, sending your body stumbling backwards as you yelped form the horrifying sight. He's dead. He's meant to be dead. "Who the hell are you?" This doesn't happen to dead people does it? God, please, what possession occurred within your home? "You're alive?" You inched near him. "Of course I'm alive, have you ever seen a dead person before or should I show you one?" Despite his threats you were relieved to know he was well, "Oh my god, you're alive." You say as the weight leaves your shoulders. "I couldn't feel your heartbeat so I thought you had died by now." You don't notice the way his face scrunched at your words.
"Who are you?" You know, he was awfully direct for someone who was drunk prior. "I'm the person who had to drag you out of the freezing cold." You tell him your name as you expect a form of thanks or emotional gratitude but it never comes. "Do you want me to get on my knees and pledge loyalty to you?" Maybe you should've left him to die.
But you didn't, that's why you were here now, eating dinner together like you do every day.
You came to find that the young man, who's name you came to find out is Scaramouche, was not as bad as you thought he was despite his horrible personality. In fact, he was good company once you adapted to his way of speaking. He clearly isn't as direct about his emotions as you thought he was.
You would say you two had become good friends since the incident that occurred, although, he's never really told you how he ended up there. You always thought he was too embarrassed to admit what occurred, after all he has a lot of pride, but you've come to realise he doesn't enjoy alcohol, not unless he seems to be in a bad mood. You never wished to pry onto what happened for him to end up in such a state so you let it be.
"It tastes good right?" The question leaves your mouth excitedly as you expect to be praised. It had been the first time you were the one who made dinner because ever since the first time he met you he decided you were too careless and 'might try to poison him' if he lets you do the cooking. But, after some haggling, you managed to persuade him. Most likely because he seems to have grown a soft spot for you. "It's fine."
Your spoon hitting the bottom of the bowl. A silence overcame the room. The dish before you two was goulash, but not just any goulash, no, it was Your Special Goulash recipe. You had mastered this recipe to perfection, no, more than perfection, it is a goulash so good the Archons would be astounded. "Liar." You bitterly said. "What, you seek more praise?" He spoke, his voice was somewhat laced sweetly with honey as though to further taunt you. "Yes. Yes, I do. This is years of work, it is more than fine, it is magnificent!" You take strong pride in your skills when it comes to cooking and it won't be undermined. "I think it's pretty average." "Average?!" You repeated with astoundment.
One could say you were almost this close to jumping over the table at this blasphemy. He was clearly taking much amusement in your behaviour. "Yeah, I bet I could make a better gou-" His sentence is cut short by a spoon being forced into his mouth and he feels the warm liquid seep into his mouth, the seasonings it carries covering his tongue. His gaze stays stuck to your hands and his eyes are wide. You could easily tell he was astounded and you began to smile happily, but his shock didn't come from what you thought it did. He raised his sights onto you, and your stupid face.
Scaramouche felt his face grow warmer, and it wasn't frustration at your actions but something else. You take note of this and your eyes seem to glimmer, at this he pulls your hand away from him, thereby removing the spoon as he swallows. "So you do like it!" You're so dumb. Such an idiot you are. His hand is raised to his face as he mumbles something but you don't hear him, and you ask him to repeat it, repeat what you know will be the praise you deserve. "I said...It's too hot."
"...What." You stand still, disappointed once more. "It's goulash, it's meant to be hot!" And to your surprise, he mimics the same volume as you. "Well, it's too hot!" "You just don't know genius when you see it!" Taking a seat back down harshly. "Ha! I see it in the mirror every day." Crossing his arms as he bites his bottom lip, as though trying to keep his own resistance against something, making himself appear frustrated despite the colour of his ears. "You wish. Just eat up." You huff, biting your own food.
"Whatever." And he does the same as you, but with each bite he takes he stays more and more focused on what you did. You're so careless. Do you ever think prior to acting? He chuckles to himself, and you raise a brow but don't ask anything.
You both continue to eat peacefully.
Scaramouche had begun to act oddly. It's small things he does that have changed.
He used to cling onto you, he wouldn't directly ask for it but you'd give him it and he'd welcome it despite his complaints that you're too touchy, "You better not do this with anyone else." He'd say to you. And whenever you tried to leave his grip he'd pull you back in, asking you what you thought you were doing leaving him like that. He used to always keep you in his sights, he'd stay reading a book somewhere in the room just to make sure he can also keep an eye on you. But now, he seems too busy, too worried, with something, you aren't entirely sure what. You've asked him about his behaviour but he brushes it off, acting as though you're imagining things.
You question why he feels more distant nowadays, why even after having known each other for a long time now it feels like you're back to being strangers. Despite always being the more honest one out of the two you didn't want to admit to him that you missed having him there, with you. Yes, you two still lived together, but, although you don't want to admit it, you missed his touch.
It's an odd thing to say that you lost someone when they're always with you, it's kind of like having an anchor tied to you, yet the rope isn't tied around you, it is in you. You are one.
You wanted to figure out what's wrong, to sort things out. So you decided you'd try again, that you would do your best.
"Scara?" You called, peaking your head into his room. His answer was quick and to the point, not bothering to stare back at you. "What is it? I'm working on something." You pranched towards where he was sitting, attempting to peer over his shoulder, glimpsing at what he was working on before he abruptly hid it. You feel your brows furrow as you bite your tongue. Why was it that he suddenly began keeping things from you? You can recount exactly when it started. It wasn't like he shared everything with you, nor did you expect him to, but he didn't go out of his way like this.
You straightened your back. It was better to simply be straightforward with him. "What are you hiding?" Your voice was flat, there is no reason for there to be anything other than suspicion. "Nothing." Quick as always to cover up, but unlike other times he might have lied to you, this time his eyes didn't meet yours, they stayed focused on the ground.
You fisted your hands, annoyance surged through your body, but another part of you felt differently. You felt disappointed, not in him, but yourself. You somehow felt you had done something to cause this, to have him leave you behind. It felt slightly hollow. How can you blame him when you want to so badly just forgive him for whatever it is?
"Scara," You started, and the words threatened to never continue sounding out, to stay confined in your throat, suffocating you. But once he glanced up at you, anticipation in his orbs, you knew he was aware, aware that he had done something. If so, why hasn't he done anything regarding it? Regarding how he neglected you. You barely eat together anymore, he's too busy. "Please, just tell me, what's wrong?"
Truth is, he did wish to tell you, but then your idea of him would shatter. Everything you saw would fall apart. He can't have that, he doesn't want you to hate him, he can't take that. "Is it something I did?" No, no, no. God, no. He finds himself denying it repeatedly in his mind, the guilt seeping into his body, realising that you might have been blaming yourself the entire time. The last thing he'd want is for you to denounce yourself in his stead. He knows what he's doing. He knows what he has been doing to you and he knows it's cruel and awful, but he has to, he has to. He's done worse so why was this most bothersome for him?
"Did I ever say that?"
"No, you didn't. But, what else am I meant to think." You were the one who suffered the consequences of his actions. He expired a heavy breath, before admitting his thoughts, putting aside his usual act. "You're right. No, you didn't do anything. You never did. I'm simply caught up with some stuff."
"What stuff? You keep saying you're busy but you never tell me what. I'm… starting to get worried. I don't know what you're doing but if you have to go out of your way to hide it from me then it mustn't be good."
He didn't respond, only blankly blinking at you. It was hard to figure out what he was thinking till he stood up, his following words cut through not only the tension that had built up but you as well.
"I plan on leaving."
"What, where?! Why?!" You couldn't wrap your head around why he'd make such a plan, or why he would have to, nevertheless want to. "I have something I need to do. It's important to me." Important to him. Important to him? Why had he never mentioned it and why does he only bring it up now. He still continues to be discreet about his actions despite clueing you in with small tiny drops of information. But you didn't want the info, you wanted to know when it would end. "Then is it more important than you and I?"
It was as important on its own as he was. And since they were tied, if he were to say it is then he'd be saying he's worth more than you. He wouldn't want to put you down. No, you meant the world to him, you were so beautiful, you were wonderful and full of life but in a way he felt like he didn't deserve it, he didn't deserve this warmth, your warmth. You were the world but his vision was much bigger, he was a god, this is his birthright. If you'd listen to him, if you could understand, if you could trust him. Trust him blindly without a second thought. That's what he wishes to ask of you, he doesn't want to cause you any more pain but this is necessary for him to achieve. "Yes. It is."
He didn't need to hear your words to know how you felt, every part of your face said it. The misery, the burning, aching misery that swirled within those orbs of yours. How your body tensed, your jaw clenched tighter, and your brows raising higher in astonishment. A laugh leaves your throat, a scratchy bitter chuckle, and he hates it. "I see. Okay, I get it." It was clear he had already decided to dispose of you, that whatever this other thing was is more valuable, it matters most, not you. You feel as though you've been shot, the emptiness filled with disappointment and shame at him and yourself for ever thinking he'd have chosen you. You step away, and move towards the door. He says your name, it sounds almost pitiful, and you are hesitant to glimpse at him. You're weak, at this point what do you have to lose. You both know the end.
So you turn, you face him once more. Now you are the one to observe him, watch the way his face scrunches at your expression, how his fists are clenched. His mouth agape as no words leave his mouth yet you see it in his eyes, how he pleads you to stay, begs you to forgive him. You wish to think it isn't how he said it was. Scaramouche always had a tongue that defied his thoughts. But you wanted to hear him say it was you. It never came. No words came. Nothing but silent mouthing, as though he was whispering to you, knowing that if he spoke his voice would break. 'I love you.' And you see the way his shoulders drop, his orbs following the slightest of movements you make. You can't find it in yourself to say the words back. You only gaze at him as though he was the worst man you had known, and he might've been. To your disdain, you didn't hate him at that moment, you pitied him, and you hated yourself for feeling sympathy for that man.
You left without a word said, but you both knew each other well enough to know what you both were thinking.
After that, everything was quiet. There was no more tension. You didn't bother asking the Archons or a deity for help. What good would it be to ask a higher being for help, does that not only prove how dire your situation is, how pathetic it is? You didn't need the Archons, you will adapt as you always do.
One day, everything became all the more quiet. And you realised how much comfort you took in his company. You were truly alone now. It's just you.
You stare blankly at his door. You sit against it like you have done a thousand times, and you pretend he is just working again.
Not once did you enter his room. You didn't want to know what he took, because you feel its empty space in your chest, and you didn't care for what he left because you felt it in the silence as you monitored the items he touched for any traces of him like an owl, never blinking.
You were once again at his door, knocking thrice and awaiting any sound to erupt from the room but you only had the peace of no noise return. And yet you hated it, you felt frustrated. To you it was never placid because you could hear your thoughts echoing throughout the rooms, his name tormenting you, following you. How could one forget him, with a face like that, a personality so annoying like that? And yet you loved it; you loved him.
The day he left the snow had already erased all footprints he might've left behind, you would think that maybe that's why you feel his ghost here constantly. But it's likely your delusions.
Today, you'd enter. You wanted to feel him. To remember what it was like to have him. You didn't wish to forget him. The numbing coldness of the metal on your palm became evermore permanent as your hand seemed to refuse to budge. What had he done to have put me in such a state? You think it's funny.
You turn the knob, and push the door open.
White. So much white. The glacial weather was near enough to numb you, but that was not why you stood paralysed. You felt tears twinkle in your vision, before departing and travelling down your cheeks.
Snow. It's all snow.
He had left the window open. God, he probably never left out the door.
You stayed still as you processed this. Your mouth agape as your eyes stayed glued onto the sight before you.
It always snows in Snezhnaya, so why was this so much more painful?
It's torturous. It's horrible. It's pure torment. Yet it is such a beautiful sight to you, it is home to you and you hate it.
Your eyes wander around to where all the snow particles have fled to: The bed he slept on, the cabinets, his desk. The desk he worked at.
You walk closer, you feel your feet dip into the snow. You study his table, only a match, a bottle of ink, and a letter. He left a doll next to it.
You spent the entire day there, cleaning the snow out, and you left everything else untouched as you shut yourself in there just as he had, reading the letter where he had written it and then, you cried. You cried till your weeps went mute. Your attempts to stop your tears continuously failed. You hate him. Every aspect of him. And you hated how well you knew him.
'My dear,
I know it's shameful of me to say goodbye like this. I don't want to see what face you make.
I'm going to Sumeru, I'm going to fulfil what I was meant to be. Then, I'll come for you.
I'll be stronger then, I'll protect you from everyone, so this time let me save you instead. Wait for me, I won't take long.
I love you. Next time I see you I'll seriously say it. Thank you and I'm sorry, for all that I caused you. I'll make sure to repent with the rest of my life.
(I hope you like the puppet. It was made for you.)
Yours Truly,
It seemed that the weather only grew colder day by day in Snezhnaya. You had developed a pretty steady routine which was unusual for your normal self and today was your special day, today you got to spend a day treating yourself to all things nice. You've worked hard this week after all.
So, you walked out to the hallway dressed and ready to go, hurrying past the guest room and putting your shoes on, wrapping yourself with a scarf as your gloves turned the knob of your door. You leaped out of the house excitedly, only to catch yourself on your foot as you found someone standing at the right of your door.
A beautiful face was what you were met with, you felt the air knock out of you as you stumbled back. You didn't spot how the man smirked at the sight of this, nor would you know the relief it gave him to see you still the same. "Did I frighten you?" He wanted to test the waters, just out of curiosity, just so maybe, maybe it's fine, maybe you're an exception.
"No- I mean, yes? You did. I'm sorry, who are you?" For a second his face dropped into a sour expression, but he returned himself to his previous composer. "You ought to be ashamed. To think you'd forget me after I told you to wait for me." His words were a whisper but despite their gentle tone their weight laid heavy on him.
"Pardon? I couldn't hear you…"
He resented himself for what he was going to say and he was internally cringing and god he hates you for having him say something so dumb, but if this was a sick joke maybe he should appease you.
"I'm just a wanderer, that's all. Sorry, you wouldn't happen to know where I could find the best goulash?"
"The best goulash in Snezhnaya?! That's a hard thing to decide… Well, there's a diner down far by the town's heart. I'm heading there so you could join me if you'd like?"
Kind-hearted as always. An idiot to the core. But so was he for thinking that you'd offer him, a stranger, your secret recipe. Yeah, he should've cherished it when he had it. It was good, really good, and your face was pretty too, stupidly pretty.
He studied your outfit. Layered and thick as always, a contrast to his. You had yourself packed warm but that wasn't what he was focused on, you had a messenger bag strapped across your chest, and off it he saw the puppet he gave you. It was his.
"Where'd you get that?" He asked, pointing at it and ignoring your offer.
You found everything about this so-called wanderer odd. But when he asked about the puppet you had attached to your bag you couldn't quite recall when you got it. "I'm not sure… maybe it came with the bag? Sorry, is there anything else I can help you with?"
"No, nothing else. One thing though," You piped your head up, and he swallowed his pride. He didn't want to lie to you, even if you don't remember it now, he doesn't want to lie to you. But he never realised how much of a difficult thing to say it was, especially when you don't remember. Could he say he loves you, does he have the right anymore?
"I… love you." He could feel that same heat that would always arise within him coming back once fourth. He tilted his ichimegasa down to hide his face, spitting out his next words quickly. "I'll be departing now!" This had been the first time that you knew that you saw him flustered, or that you've met him which made his words more absurd to you, but you felt almost flattered to be told that by someone so pretty. It was such a simplistic way of thinking. Then his words register once more, and you look at the chained puppet, unlocking it as you gaze at it. How alike they were.
How strange, how weird it was, the gaps in your memories, the guest room in your house, the puppet that looks like him, him acting so weird towards you, so casual.
You begin to wonder if this was really a mistake.
Despite the flustered emotions he first felt, he quickly let them pass, realising you'd simply think nothing more of him than him being some creep. Ha, to think he'd settle for such a thing so easily.
To think he'd settle for this so easily. What was he meant to do? What should he do? Tears welled within his eyes as he walked, and he hoped that even if the snow covers his trails it never erases what's already beneath.
He made a gigantic mistake. One he has to atone with the rest of his life. Unfortunately, it appears it isn't with you. He was ready to spend the next hundred years being pestered by you. But to be rid of that was an even worse punishment.
The wanderer won't tamper with your life. He wouldn't do such a thing to you. Despite his many wants to, his need to be with you, he won't. Because it is he himself who made himself land in such a position. Maybe rather than having shown up like that he should've recreated everything from the beginning, maybe then you would behave just as your stupid self normally would. Supplying him with warmth, dumb comments, annoyance, affection, care, humanity. Humanity. God, you had already made him a person long ago.
What should he do, what should a lost wanderer do when his home doesn't look at him the same. When those familiar eyes only return an unknowing look, a clueless, foreign stare?
How long does it take to rebuild a home, to rebuild the love you once carried for him?
The snow continues to seep into the room like sand filling up an hourglass. The doors knob has icicles on its insides and the inks long gone solid. All that remains is the opened envelope and the letter it contained, with stained tears. Another tightly sealed letter beside it.
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george-weasleys-girl · 2 months
Hi idk if you are still taking request but I will like to request a George weasley x reader
So George and the reader is dating and it’s where the order goes and gets Harry to bring him to the burrow and the reader stays with Molly and Ginny at the burrow and helps George with his ear.
Of course! Thank you for your lovely request.
Turning Point
Y/N stood outside, eyes searching the sky for any sign of anyone. They should've been back by now.
If nothing had gone wrong.
She'd stood with George outside the Burrow, their foreheads together as he promised to return to her. Y/N had smiled and kissed him and then watched him apparate away with Fred, knowing full well that keeping that promise wasn't entirely up to her boyfriend.
This was war. War is a greedy, ravenous monster. And it would always demand its pound of flesh.
"Still nothing?" Ginny had stepped outside.
Y/N shook her head. "No."
A shaky sigh belied the Weasley girl's calm exterior. "Mum's made some tea, if you'd like some."
"Yeah, ok," Y/N said, taking one last look at the empty sky.
Y/N had just taken her first sip when voices erupted from outside. The three women rose as one and raced out the door. Y/N's eyes searched frantically for one particular face, a wave of relief washing over her when she finally saw it, only to have it fade into concern when she saw him being half carried by Harry and Remus, then devolve into panic when she saw the blood. His blood. George's blood. It was pouring down the side of his face and staining his clothes a sickening red.
The next few minutes were a blur. After hearing the words "sectumsempra spell," Y/N ran ahead to grab the muggle first-aid kit she'd brought. She'd felt a little silly about bringing it. Now, it became the best decision she could've made. Dark magic, first and foremost, needed to be dealt with through magical means of course. However, dark spells were generally created by wizards who never considered lowly muggle medicine, leaving loopholes through which non-magical medicine could be slipped to help aid and quicken healing.
"Pathetic," Y/N heard Fred say as she knelt down beside him and gave George a gentle kiss on his forehead.
"What's pathetic?" Y/N asked.
"Your boyfriend is telling bad jokes again."
"Oh? Well, that's a sure sign he'll be alright." Y/N replied.
George smiled affectionately up at her, then closed his eyes again. He tried to hide his excruciating pain, but Y/N knew better. As did his twin.
"What can I do to help?" Fred asked.
Between Y/N, Molly, and Fred using a combination of magical and muggle methods, they were able to get George's wound cleaned and bandaged. "We need to get him out of these clothes," Molly remarked, looking at the bloodied garments. "Arthur, will you run upstairs and get a pair of George’s pajamas?"
Y/N turned to George. "Do you think you can sit up?"
"I think so," he said, already trying to push himself up.
He stopped halfway through the attempt, a peculiar look passing across his face. Y/N knew that face. She'd seen it when George had gotten food poisoning last year.
"Trash can!" Y/N yelled.
Fred managed to get one next to him just in time.
After a heavy dose of an anti-nausea draught. She and Molly, with Fred's help, were able to get George into his pajamas and tucked in for the night.
"It still feels like room's spinning. When will it stop?" George mummered after everyone had gone to bed. He'd chosen to remain on the sofa due to his unrelenting dizziness.
"I don't know, love." Y/N said from her makeshift bed on the floor, squeezing his hand. "You lost an ear. That can really screw with your equilibrium."
George sighed. "This will not do."
Y/N didn't have time to register what he meant by that before he landed on her with a thud, elbowing her in the stomach and knocking the breath out of her.
"Shit. Sorry, love. You ok?" George asked, sliding off of her.
"I'm good," she wheezed, trying to ignore the dull throb in her abdomen. "Bit winded is all."
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. Not my best work," he apologized again.
"I'm ok, I promise."
"I'm glad one of us is," he said as he lay his head on her chest while his long, lanky self wrapped around her.
"Hurting?" Y/N asked.
"No-well, I mean yes." George stammered. "But that's not it."
He paused and didn't speak for a long while. Y/N had thought he'd dozed off when he broke the silence, his voice meek and strained.
"I was terrified, Y/N." He began. "I've never been that scared in my life. Fred and I got separated, and then something hit me. I thought the whole side of my face had exploded, and I then I was losing my grip on my broom. My hands still hurt from holding on so tight." He held one up and flexed it. "All I could think was, 'please don't let me die.' I just kept repeating it over and over. I couldn't bear thought of never seeing you again or Fred or my family. But my hands were sweating, and they kept slipping." George paused. "Then someone grabbed my arm and steadied me. It was Remus. He kept talking to me. I don't remember anything he said, but if it wasn't for him, I might be dead."
Unshed tears steamed down Y/N's face. She'd not let herself cry, wanting to be strong for George. But, she couldn’t hold herself back anymore. The knowledge of how close he came to dying ripped through her heart. What if the spell had hit him head-on instead of grazing him or what if he'd lost consciousness, or what if he'd lost his grip or...
She could torture herself all night with endless 'what ifs.'
"Oh, don't cry, darling," George titled his head up to kiss her jawline. "I'll be okay. I'm just a little shaken. Nothing that spending the night in your arms won't cure."
Y/N looked down at him, smiling. "Hey, you've been crying too. You're not allowed to tell me not to cry when you've been doing the same thing," she teased.
George chuckled. "Fair enough, love, fair enough."
Y/N kissed the top of his head and pulled the disheveled blankets over them. She had just started to doze off when George spoke again.
"You still awake,love?
"Hmm? Yeah," Y/N mumbled. "Do you need something?"
"Actually, I was thinking about something," he began. "And I was gonna wait and do it after Bill and Fleur's wedding 'cause I didn't want to take away from their day. But after my near-death experience tonight, I don't think I can wait any longer."
By now, Y/N was wide awake, wondering where he was going with this.
George shifted so he could look at her face. "This isn't how I intended to ask. I planned it to be more romantic. Candles and music and everything. And, honestly, my brain is so scrambled right now that I can't remember most of what I wanted to say, so I'll just say the part I remember."
Y/N held her breath, beginning to understand.
George lifted her hand, lightly kissing it. "I may not know what matter makes up my soul, but the one thing I know for sure is that your soul and mine are cast from the same mold. I love you Y/N Y/L/N more than I could ever say. Will you marry me?"
Tears poured down Y/N's cheeks while her smile lifted the last of George's fears from within his heart. "Yes! Of course I will!" Her voice was soft so as not to wake up everyone, but her undying love and overwhelming happiness came through loud and clear.
George pulled her into a gentle kiss as the horrible events of the evening faded into nothing. All that mattered now was that he was here. He was alive. And the most amazing woman to ever walk the earth had just consented to be his wife.
@princess-paramour @milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @xmjthewitchx @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley
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bananami · 3 days
haikyuu characters as taylor swift songs (the break ups)
a/n: time-skip canonically exists and that's what i'm clearly using
in honor of the eras tour starting up, here are some t swift songs that would encapsulate what a break up with certain haikyuu characters would look like; i only did a few because this shit took some tiiiime ok
i'm gonna hurt myself with this one.
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would've, could've, should've
"god rest my soul, i miss who i used to be" "give me back my girlhood, it was mine first" "and now that i'm grown i'm scared of ghosts, memories feel like weapons, and now that i know, i wish you'd left me wondering"
the effects of a break up with him lasts longer than you would like, following you for months after and even into the relationships you try to have afterwards. everything reminds you of him. if loving him meant you were left feeling like this, you would've rather never loved him at all. the break up with him literally breaks you.
-oikawa, atsumu, suna
midnight rain
"he wanted it comfortable, i wanted that pain" "i broke his heart 'cause he was nice, he was sunshine, i was midnight rain" "and he never thinks of me"
you're the problem. he was the nice guy that you should've chose, but you didn't. years of bad relationships had scarred you for the worse. the problem was that he was perfect, too perfect, and you were broken. better to run while you still had the chance, you convince yourself it was inevitable and he was just too nice to end things. you would ruin it for the both of you, he would find better.
-hinata, bokuto, suga
"you drew stars around my scars, but not i'm bleeding" "i knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss, i knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs" "i knew i'd curse you for the longest time...i knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired" "i knew you'd come back to me"
it's a constant game of back and forth that you grew sick of. you were done being a second choice. there are a lot of regrets after the break up, but you get over it faster than he does. it takes longer for him to realize it, and by that time, you've moved on. he's texting you, begging you to take him back, blowing up your phone with voicemails, sending flowers to your work. eventually you block him. you still love him, but you choose yourself this time.
-osamu, ushijima, kageyama
"i think i've seen this film before, and i didn't like the ending, you're not my homeland anymore, so what am i defending now" "i can see you staring honey, like he's just your understudy" "you never gave a warning sign (i gave so many signs)"
the fallout is slow, you've fought and broken up so many times recently that it's no surprise this last time. what is surprising is when he sees you with someone new, looking happier than you ever did with him. he thought it was like every other time, he thought you'd get back together. the confusion on his face is clear, the anger is quick. how could he have missed the resentment growing within you? he'd never stop trying to come back into your life. sometimes you'd let him back in. every time, you'd regret it.
-kenma, akaashi, kita
all too well
"you kept me like a secret, but i kept you like an oath" "maybe we got lost in translation, maybe i asked for too much, maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up" "you call me up again just to break me like a promise, so casually cruel in the name of being honest"
it's perfect until it's not. the worst are the conversations toward the end of it all. he's hurting you, but he won't let you go, sacrificing your happiness for his comfort in a dead relationship. you cry loaded tears and he makes barren promises. the break up isn't even the end of it. you can't escape him, having to share your friends with one another and working so close to each other. you want so badly to be over him, but the wound rips open at every reminder of his constant presence in your life. he won't let you go completely, but he won't ever love you the way you deserve.
-kuroo, iwaizumi, sakusa
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slasher-male-wife · 6 months
Howdy! I absolutely love your writing!
I was wondering if you could write for Bo Sinclair, Michael Myers, Billy Loomis, and Stu Macher where they think their s/o did something and they get into an argument. Hurtful things are said/done and the slasher later finds out that their s/o didn’t do it. Hurt/comfort vibes, that kind of thing.
Wether you do or not, have a great day!
Omg a new anon hiii it's good to see you welcome in. Ok but I cant totally do this for you. This might be a bit angsty because that's how I interpreted it but whatever I'm so happy to have you here. Anyway I hope you enjoy this.
Slashers apologizing to their s/o
Includes: Bo Sinclair, Michael Myers, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher
Warnings: Strong language
Bo Sinclair
You're outside the church late into the night. Your face is red and puffy from crying, your head is pounding from the tears. They've slowed down but still are coming. Bo came to you with a broken picture frame of his parents and accused you of breaking it. He knew you were cleaning earlier and he thought you broke it and never told him. The truth is you've never seen that picture before. It was in his fathers office and you've made it a rule for yourself to not go in there out of fear.
The two of you yelled back and forth for a good ten minutes about how you didn't do it and him not believing you. He told you to get of the house and you gladly did. You don't like seeing him get angry, you've seen what he did to tourists who got on his nerves. You're quietly crying into your hands when you hear gravel crunching. You wipe away tears and look up to find Bo walking over. You sniffle and look away. He's quiet. But you're still scared to find out what he's gonna do to you.
He takes a seat on the steps next to you. There's a few moments of silence between you two before he finally speaks, "I uh didn't know Lester was in the house earlier," He says pulling out a cigarette, "He told me he was the one who uh broke the picture on accident," He lights it and takes a puff, "I should've listened to you darlin. I don't think I've ever even seen ya in the office."
"I try to avoid it," You palm away a few tears and move your head forward, still not looking at Bo, "I told you I didn't break it. If I did I would have told you."
"I know that honey. I just don't know what I was really thinking," He puts a hand on your thigh, "I guess I'm tryin to say I'm sorry." You look over at him a little surprised.
"Well thank you Bo. I accept your apology."
Michael Myers
It's a few days away from Halloween and earlier in the day Michael came to you seemingly upset. But you could never tell with him. He signed to you that he was missing one of his masks. You told him you never touched any of his masks but he never really believed you. Things got scary when he cornered you in the kitchen and you pulled out a pan to defend yourself. But thankfully he didn't touch you. He simply left out the back door and hasn't come home since. It's dark out now and you assumed that he was gonna spend the night outside.
When you heard something plop on the kitchen table you knew he was back, you just prayed that he didn't bring back any dead animals with him. You get up from the couch and walk into the kitchen. Michael is there, on the table is a bag of Halloween candy he must have gotten from a store. It also happened to be your favorite candy. You noticed the missing mask in his hand. You wanted to tell him that you were right, that you didn't touch his mask, but you knew better than to tap the glass.
"Thank you Michael. I appriciate this." This is the closest you'll get to an apology from him, you both know that. But it's still sweet to you. You open the bag of candy and take out two packets. You hand the second to Michael. He takes it and lifts up the bottom of his mask. You're just glad the fighting is over.
Billy Loomis
You're in bed, face wet with tears after Billy accused you of stealing his mask. You swore up and down you never did but that didn't stop him from yelling at you. He's never hit you but sometimes his words really know how to get you deep. That was hours ago now and you just want the night to be over. You're wondering if he's going to break up with you, or worse. You hear your phone ring on your night stand and you pick it up.
"Hello this is y/n. I'm sorry to say but I'm a bit busy right now. Can I call you back?"
"I can clearly see you're not busy babe," It's Billy. You sit up in bed and look out your window. Billy's outside waiting for you. You hang up and open your window to let him in, "Thanks doll. Look I want to apologize alright? Stu borrowed the mask without letting me know before hand and I shouldn't have yelled at you."
" I know Billy. You need to be more careful with what you say you really hurt me."
"I know and I'm so sorry baby. I hope you can forgive me." He holds open his arms and you accept his hug. You rest your head on his shoulder and sigh.
"Just promise me you won't yell at me again ok?" Billy holds you close and rubs your back.
"I promise I won't. I love you Y/n."
"I love you too Billy boy."
Stu Macher
You got very concerned when you got an angry call from Stu asking why you ruined his 'good blade'. You were totally confused as he ranted on about how is good knife was ruined now because of dents and rust from someone leaving it out. You were messing around with it, with his permission but you always put it back where he kept it. You told him that you didn't do anything to it but he wouldn't listen to you. So you decided to just embrace the sadness tonight. You put on a Cassette of The Cure and turned off the lights.
Your eyes grew red and face hot and wet from crying. You're clinging to your pillow when there's a knock on the door. You pause your music and wipe you face off with your hands and go answer the door. When you open it you're greeted with Stu holding a VHS tape in his hand.
"Y/n hey I'm sorry about yelling at you. Billy borrowed the knife and didn't tell me until tonight and I feel really bad," He holds up the tape, " I rented that cheesy slasher movie you. I just thought it was the least I could do." You can see the regret in his eyes. A small smile grows and you step aside to let him in.
"Thank you baby. I forgive you. Now I'll go make some popcorn for the movie." He walks in and presses a kiss on your cheek.
"I love you babe." He says
"I love you too." You reply.
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iusedtobeshadow · 2 months
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Title: Soft
Pairing: Din Djarin x Gn! Reader
Warning: Mention of injury
"Oh that was close, too close for my liking", you said, trying to catch your breath in the process. Easy bounties were not tokens of troubles most of the time, they were easy after all but this one truly took a turn for the worse.
You had joined Mando on this bounty since it was suppose to be an enter, get and leave situation. Mando was ofcourse against it at first but the child wanted to accompany him and you had nothing important to do so you joined forced with the kid to peer pressure the tin can man to let you two go. Maybe that was a mistake.
You sat on one of the chairs in the cockpit with a sigh, watching as the mangalorian pressed some buttons and moved some controllers, piloting the ship to the next destination.
The Razor Crest never got tired of surprising you. For such an old ship, it was still a beauty. Never in your years of being a mechanic would you have thought you would encounter a pre-empire ship.
"You should've stayed on the ship", Mando said. Your eyes drifted to the floor, he was not wrong, you should've stayed inside the ship but you didnt.
Your thoughts were cut out when you heard a pained groan escape Mando's mouth.
"Are you-"
"I am fine", Mando said cutting you off.
You sighed. You both knew he was lying. His moves were hesitant and he let out quiet groans of pain from time to time as he moved.
"Sit down big guy, i'll bring the med kit. Take your armour off only if you can, don't force yourself", you say already leaving the cockpit before you could hear a protest.
You were never interested in learning the arts of medicine but when you work with someone like Peli, you get forcely introduce in things one was never interested in.
"Now where is that kit?", you asked yourself as you started looking. You then heard a familiar "coo" close by.
You turned around to find the child slowly walking towards you with its hands up.
"Why hello there buddy, by any chance have you seen the medic kit?", you asked the child jokingly as you lift it up, holding it with one arm.
The kid lets out another "coo" like sound and you chuckle.
After some more looking, you finally found the medical kit. You opened it just in case anything is not useful which to your luck, everything was good and intact.
"Hey, sorry for the wait. The kit was basically playing hide and seek anD- OH MY GOD I AM SO SORRY!-". You quickly turned around before you could see his face.
"You can turn around now, the helmet's on", Mando said.
"Don't worry Mando, I saw nothing", you stated as you turned around. You knew about the mandalorian code since you were a kid. They cared for secrecy out of all and their "This is the Way" thinking. That's why you never asked Mando and respected his privacy, which you noticed he greatly appreciated even if not shown.
Your thoughts were cut off by another groan that came out from the Mandalorian's mouth.
"Okay Mando, show me your boo boo", the Mandalorian scuffed but did so. He had a big nasty cut on his leg and a few bruises on his arms and without any more waiting, you got to work, putting the kid down beforehand just to have more hands to work with.
There was a comfortable silence between one another, Mango letting a groan out from time to time.
"Alright, apart from the cut on your leg, youre as as good as new-", you stopped and got up. "I will leave the medic kit so you can check if you have any cuts on your...face".
Mando stayed quiet for a moment which was your sign to leave the cockpit but as you did, he grabbed your wrist, with enough force to stop you but not enough to hurt you.
"Wait, you have a cut", he said while tapping a part of the cheeck area of his helmet.
"I do? Didn't even notice. Was that why you were staring holes to my head while i treated your cut?", you said
"Yes, sit", he "ordered", and sit down you did.
"Didn't take you for the medical type, Mando"
"It comes with the job, where's the kid?", Mando asked while he cleaned the wound on my arm.
We then heard a "coo" sound, big eyes staring right at us and Mango looked back, almost like a smile.
You chuckled, "soft".
He looked back at me with a puzzled look.
"You've grown soft, Mando", you said while looking at the child.
The mandalorian closed the kit and gave it to you.
"I'm not the only one", he said, looking directly at you.
"We've both grown soft".
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venerex · 8 months
pairing: vernon x gn!reader
words: 960
contains: descriptions of sex and hickeys. this is basically just fluff.
a/n: listen i don't know what happened here. i started and just kept going. tagging this as smut seems inappropriate but i don't want minors interacting and it does have like three lines of sex descriptions (kind of), so....yeah. not proofread, as usual. hi @starlightjoong!
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"yep, got tomorrow off"
you hum at vernon's words, smiling slightly when he places his phone back on the nightstand and wraps an arm loosely around you, his fingers lightly tracing the lines on your shoulder while he closes his eyes.
he had shown up at your door a few hours ago, like he always does when he thinks he has the next day off. a light dinner and some hours of slow lovemaking later, here you are - lying on the bed naked, enjoying comfortable silence.
you steal a glance at him and find yourself unable to look away, your gaze fixed on the blooming hickeys a little below his collarbone, where you're somewhat sure they won't be revealed by his stage outfits. apart from reminding you of the nature of his job, he's never commented on your fondness of leaving your marks on his skin, but you know he enjoys it - his groans in your ear and his fingers tightening on your skin are indication enough.
and well, it's not like he can exactly refuse - the spots of purple littering your chest and thighs make it clear how much he enjoys marking you up as well. both of you have a possessive streak, even if you don't explicitly address it.
your fingers flutter over the mark for a moment before drifting up to ghost over his neck, your lips curving when he sighs and leans into your touch. i should've paid more attention to your neck, you can't help but think. you distinctly remember wanting to pepper kisses on every inch of his neck the last time you had seen him perform through your laptop screen, three days ago. your efforts earlier were thwarted by his hands slipping under your shirt, his deliberate touches making you lose your focus.
oh well. thank god you have tomorrow.
"what are you thinking?", you break the silence, watching as a light frown takes over his face.
"mm?", he opens his eyes slightly, blinking before looking at you, "just about this movie".
what an adorable, adorable man.
"really?", you reply in faux-offense, "you're thinking about a movie? when you have me naked in our bed?"
the words slip out before you can think, and you know vernon catches your mistake - his eyes widening slightly before his face morphs into the gentlest of smiles, his fingers stilling before squeezing your shoulder lightly. reassuringly. in agreement.
our bed.
it's not his bed, not really. this is your place, one that you've lived in for years, that vernon has only stayed in for short periods of time. it would be a lie to say that you don't consider him a part of your home, though - in the year that the two of you have been dating, his visits to your small flat have become more and more frequent, and the signs of his presence are reflected in every room. the living room has the funky wind-chime he bought while he was on tour, his slippers sit next to yours in their shelf, a couple of his colorful cardigans grace your closet, and a few of his spare chargers sit on your nightstand, where his phone is charging now.
no, it's not officially his bed. but he's welcome to stay in it whenever he likes, and you wouldn't mind if it was official. that's a conversation for another time though, when the two of you have more than one day and a few hours on a weekend, and when both of you aren't tired from hectic work schedules.
thankfully, vernon has the same idea, for he chooses to not comment on your slip-up.
"it's not just any movie", he starts, the remnants of a smile still apparent on his features, "i think you'll like this one, was thinking of something we can watch tomorrow".
stop, you want to say, you're making my heart ache.
one of the first things that made you doubt your decision to date vernon was, as stupid as it sounds, his love for movies - a love that you don't share, in any capacity. while you don't mind people who like movies (if you did, you'd never talk to your sister at all), it is bothersome when they insist on suggesting some to you. it's even worse when, like your boyfriend, they offer to watch them with you. things haven't been bad with him though, for he doesn't push you to give a film another shot when you say you don't like it, and he puts in a lot of thought into his recommendations. so far, you've managed to like about 70% of the movies he's recommended - quite a feat.
"yeah?", you shift to rest your head on his shoulder, humming when his arm moves to accommodate you, "what's it about?".
"well, it's not a documentary", he starts, warning you to not expect your favorite genre, "it's about this chef who's unsatisfied with his job at an exclusive restaurant - "
your eyes drift to his neck.
" - and he's cranky and kind of a dick - "
tomorrow seems too far away, suddenly.
" - and he gets fired - or wait, does he resign? anyway, he leaves - "
a few kisses couldn't hurt, right?
" - and he decides to open a food truck - "
nodding along to the story - you really are paying attention, sort of - you move up and press your lips on the side of his neck, smiling against his skin when he stutters slightly.
" - and yeah, yeah - it's about that, basically, and how he - babe?"
you hum against his jaw, having trailed kisses up his neck.
"carry on", you press a kiss on the corner of his mouth, "i'm listening".
"it's okay", he tilts his face so his lips hover over yours, his voice slightly breathless, "it can wait".
maybe this wasn't the right time, but atleast you have tomorrow.
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sarahs-secrets2 · 2 months
Hours in Silence (Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader) 18+࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ
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This was purely inspired by like half of a Drake song LOL, I wanted to originally do this for Graves but felt too similar to my first series so I thought I would try my hand with Ghost!! (Yes I'm writing a Ghost drabble to a Drake song, trust me I know how corny it is LMFAO, I am insane, let me live thank you)
Also, this is my first time writing for Ghost pls don't judge LOL
Based on the first bit of Hours in Silence
gn! (I use the word “heat” once) (no use of Y/N), mentions of a Dear John letter (if you don't know it's a letter usually sent to military members when the s/o wants to break up)
Word Count: 1.3k
Warnings: some NSFW, light smut, slight OOC (don't kill me pls), cursing, pet names (if I forgot something pls lmk)
₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗
Leave your phone, come to mine You'll catch a hand in due time I think, think that I Could fuck the idea of him outta your mind You said he rap, he ain't signed, that ain't a good sign Change your mind, good conversation and some rosé wine Unless there's some other things you gotta mind You're my baby, ayy, ayy The smoke got me talkin' in Dutch A pill in Ibiza, so what? She leanin' on me, I'm her crutch She creamin' on me, I'm her crush
Distracted was putting it lightly. Your mind was racing, and it wasn't because of the mission. You sat on some far enough away hill covered by trees gazing through a sniper scope. Your mind kept going back to the Dear John letter you had received before packing up to stake out some warehouse.
You hadn't told anyone on 141, it didn't seem too important at the time, but now alone waiting for a signal your mind wandered to the letter. 
“I’m sorry but we’re done,”  
It’s all you needed to read to get the message. It was shit. What a waste of time you thought to yourself. 
“You there, hello? Is there any movement?” the low voice cut through your thoughts
“No movement yet L.T.”, fuck you weren't even paying attention. 
“I need you focused up there Sergeant, don’t go falling asleep on me”, Ghost was stern but thoughtful, he could tell he was losing you up there.
You and Ghost had somewhat of a complicated relationship. You jokingly flirted with him to get him nervous and he always deflected trying to maintain focus on the mission at hand. You both equally got under each other's skin.  
Ghost, prior to the Dear John, was aware of your relationship, which he respected. He never pushed, hence the ignoring of your attempted flirting. Somewhere down the line, he hinted at how the “jokes” of flirting became very real. He wasn't sure if this was something he had made up in his head and he was feeling a certain way towards you. 
Your mind immediately went back to your shitty Dear John, as you were readjusting your position hoping to catch a better view. 
“Sarge, why do I see movement but you’re not calling it”, you were caught now, no excuse would cover this up. 
“Sorry, L.T. my view wasn't clear I was adjusting”
“Come down, I'm sending a different sniper up, I can’t trust you in this state of mind”
That one stung. It wasn't your fault… maybe it was. You should've told him about the letter, it could've explained everything but you didn't want to be seen as weak. With a heavily bruised ego, you packed up and swapped places with some rookie who shot you a sympathetic look.  
Ghost sent you back to the base, it was bad. Usually, you would stick around and finish the mission but you could tell Ghost didn't want you anywhere near it tonight. Throwing the door to your room open you slammed your bag on the bed, cursing under your breath.
Stripping from the uniform, you changed into shorts and some random t-shirt, you just needed a break after a shitty night. Closing the dresser drawers, a knock on the door caused you to jump. 
“Who is it?” you knew it was Ghost, you knew you were in trouble, easier to play dumb though.
“Open up,” always to the point Ghost was.
Your bare feet padded over to the door slowly opening it, as Ghost used his body to push the rest of it open. 
“What the fuck was tonight?” 
“I don't know”, you felt like you were a shell of yourself, his tone was unsettling. He had every right to be upset but the weight of everything was a bit too heavy for you to attempt to explain. 
“You know”, he read you too well, Ghost’s eyes started searching your room for a sign of why you were so out of it. He landed on the nightstand with the torn envelope and letter sitting where you had left them before the mission. 
“What’s this”, he was walking towards the letter.
“It’s nothing, stop”, attempting to block his path to the letter, which failed as he pushed past you. The height difference was working in his favor yet again. 
Ghost picked up the Dear John, you watched as his eyes scanned the paper. He was reading more of it than you had. 
“Ghost, put it down please”, basically pleading with him at this point. 
“You should've told me”, despite having his mask on, you could see the shift in his eyes. 
“Yeah I know, I didn't want to be a burden though”, it felt awkward to be discussing your breakup with your Lieutenant, it was uncharted territory for the both of you. 
“This was a distraction tonight, I can’t have that with soldiers in the field, understood?”
“Yes sir, it won't happen again, I’m sorry again”, apologies spilling out, it was embarrassing. 
“Dear John’s are shit”, he tossed the letter down, shrugging his shoulders.
“Tell me about it, ha”, you tried to laugh it off as you sat on the bed looking up at Ghost as he sauntered towards you. The air was heavy and something had shifted between the two of you. 
“You know, if you ever need a distraction when we aren't on the field I can help you with that”, Ghost looked down at you on the bed. 
“Call me Simon, please”, your breath hitched when he said this. 
“Simon, what are you talking about”,
He bends down to whisper in your ear, “I’m saying, I think that I could fuck the idea of him outta your mind”,
You freeze becoming hyper-aware of what was happening, a cough escapes your lips as you try to catch your breath. 
“I need you focused Sergeant”, 
“ I don't know”, you were struggling to grasp the concept being presented to you. 
“I’ll be your crutch, lean on me it's okay”, as he said this, his hands grabbed yours pulling you up off the bed, and close to him. You felt wobbly as you placed your hands on his chest to find some balance. 
“Go ahead”, he was motioning to his cloth skeleton mask that covered his face. Your hands slowly crept toward his face, stopping at the base of his neck. You rolled the mask in between your fingers debating on what your next move was. 
“It’s alright, I'll tell you when”, Simon encouraged you as you slowly pulled in up, “That's enough, right there”, he had you stop it just so his jaw and lips were exposed.
Simon leans forward pulling you into him, a slight gasp separates your lips as he presses his lips onto yours, kissing back feverishly. 
Still connected, Ghost pushed you slowly back onto the bed, as he hovered over top of you. 
“Still distracted?” It was a taunting question.
“Hard to say Lieutenant”, Ghost took this as a challenge as he slipped off your shorts leaving you in just underwear. Immediately you pulled him back into a kiss as he pushed his clothed cock up against your heat. 
As you both continued, a pair of footsteps was heard in the hallway, causing you to jump up. 
“You have to go”, the idea of someone catching you and Ghost was tempting but not worth the repercussions. 
Simon connected his lips to your neck as he mumbled into you, “So soon? My love we are just getting started”.
“We can’t risk getting caught Simon, think about it please”, you were hoping he would catch the hint that you weren't done with him. You were up out of the bed searching for your shorts which had been tossed across the room. 
“I see, well whenever you're ready to pick this up, come to mine”, Ghost, now out of the bed, was adjusting his hard-on. You gave a small wave as he sauntered out of the room, wondering if what had happened was even real. 
You walked towards the nightstand picking it up the Dear John and tossing it in the trash, you had found yourself a new distraction.
₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗
Eep writing for Ghost as a Graves girly is hard! Hope yall enjoyed!
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stevesbipanic · 2 months
B!!!!! 5k omg!!!! <3 <3 can I ask for 2. or 40. with angst vibes?? (and also maybe w/ a happy ending?) LOVE U B!!! <3
Thank you Noelle <3
I'm gonna combine them. 2. "What do you want?"/"I want you to choose me!" and 40. Ghost
Steve had a lot of regrets in his life. He regretted his King Steve days, he regretted not saving Barb, he regretted not standing up to his dad sooner, but most of all he regrets his last conversation with Eddie.
He and Eddie had started dating a few months after Vecna, all it took was life-threatening injuries and a speedrun of a sexuality crisis. They were happier than either of them could ever remember and it wasn't long before they moved in together. Eddie still played at the Hideout every Tuesday but now also worked at the garage downtown. Steve was working multiple retail jobs trying to save up for paramedic classes. Nancy and Robin were away at college now, Robin had originally wanted Steve to come with them but understood his need to stay with the kids. Which was the reason Steve was regretting his life now.
Eddie had come home excited, Steve thought it was just the energy of performing following him home, until Eddie told him that an agency wanted to sign the band, wanted to move them to the city, away from Hawkins, away from Steve.
"I thought you'd be happy for me!"
"I am happy for you but don't you think it's kind of sudden, this random man wants your band?"
"That's how the industry works, Steve!"
"So you're just going to pack up and leave, leave me and the kids behind?"
"The kids are almost graduated, Steve, Vecna is gone, the Upside down is gone, why can't you see that, why can't you let yourself be happy!"
"I am happy! Here! With you! What do you want? What do you want from me!?"
"I want you to choose me!"
Steve goes quiet, "I wanted the same things, Eds, clearly, you've made up your mind though." Steve had retreated to their bedroom after that, he heard the front door slam shortly after. Eddie didn't return home and his van was found wrapped around a tree the next morning.
Everything blurred after that, Steve couldn't focus on the days until one night he awoke to a sound in the kitchen. He grabbed his bat and snuck down the hallway towards a weird glow, fearing the supernatural he swung, but his bat just passed straight through.
"Oi Stevie, what the fuck, are you trying to kill me again?"
Steve looked up in surprise and shock, there was Eddie just how he was the day he left, a faint blue glow around his edges and the vision of the fridge seen through him.
"You're a ghost?"
"That's the first thing you say?"
Steve breaks down after that, sobs wracking his body as the spectre tries to comfort him.
"I'm so sorry, Eds, we should've been celebrating that night and instead I chased you out of our home, and then, and then you died and I never got to say how sorry I was and how proud I am of you and how you were right the kids are grown now and we deserve to go be happy and go somewhere I can hold your hand and you can play your music."
The ghost wipes at Steve's tears to no avail, giving him a bittersweet smile, "Tell me that again when you see me, ok?"
Steve is confused before suddenly he's sitting up in his bed again, he hears a sound from the kitchen, and in an eery sense of deja vu, grabs his bat again and moves down the hallway. He doesn't swing this time, instead dropping his bat with a clatter at the vision before him. There's Eddie, very much alive looking equally upset as Steve feels, he jumps at the sound before Steve slams into him wrapping him tightly in a hug and sobbing into his chest.
"Woah, woah sweetheart, it's ok, it's ok, I'm sorry I left but I needed to clear my head but look I'm back, I'm sorry."
"Y-you were dead, you crashed your van," Steve sobs.
"Crashed my van? Stevie did you have a nightmare? Oh sweetheart, no I'm ok, see?"
The edges of sleep clear from his memory now as he realises it was all a dream.
"We should move to California."
Steve never wants to regret the things he says to Eddie ever again.
Prompt List
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nocreativityfornames · 4 months
The timing and occasion on which MC made the pacts with Lucifer and Belphegor should've been switched and here's why:
I don't know if anyone has ever posted something similar to this but it's something I've been thinking about it for a while. I've never quite liked the way these two pacts were formed and to me, they were both timed weirdly and overall had little to no weight on the story, which sort of irritates me in a way.
I think our pact with Lucifer should've taken place at the party where MC was celebrated instead of the end of the season, it would've been much more meaningful that way and left way more impact than the disaster of a scene that lesson 20-14 was in my opinion. Because here's the thing:
Lucifer is the Avatar of Pride, one of the most powerful beings in all three realms, someone who's led an entire army through war and was maybe the first of his kind to rebel against its own creator. It's not easy to gain his respect, much less his trust. So for him to put his pride aside and offer a human the power to control his entire being, it's much more than a simple "possessive and horny confession". It's him placing his ultimate trust in someone, it's him showing just how much he's grown to care for you.
Because you deserve it. You were the human who put his dear family back together, who willingly ran head first into danger more than once just for the sake of protecting his brothers, who gave your life trying to help fix what he broke. You were much more than a simple exchange student, you were someone he had slowly come to cherish, who so gradually approached his heart that he didn't even notice you come in and before he knew it, all the irritation and distrust he felt towards you had turned into love and admiration. You were a precious presence in his life that he felt the need to protect but failed to do so.
So Lucifer offering to make a pact with you just shortly after all you had gone through was a way to let you know just how immensely grateful he was for all you had done for him and his family, to show you that you had not only earned his respect and trust but also his love. It was an apology for every time he had put you in harm's way and for not being there for you when you needed him the most. Lucifer offering you a pact it's him letting you know that he will never ever let anyone hurt you again and that he'll always be there for you from now on, it's him saying that you can lean on him as much as you need because you're now part of his family — the one thing he puts above all others and will do anything for.
Lucifer asking to make a pact with you it's him showing you mean the world to him while having no qualms about letting the whole three realms know you were remarkable enough to make the prideful Morning Star let go of his sin and give you all of him.
Now, let's talk about Belphegor. As I've seen many point out, the reaction to MC's death after lesson 16 as whole was terrible. There was barely any acknowledgment of what happened, no apology coming from Belphegor, and the weirdest thing of all: MC was not only completely okay with being close to Belphegor but also the only one trying to help him when all the brothers were more than rightfully being awkward around him. So let's just put it this way: the whole situation was beyond bizarre and we all like to pretend it wasn't canon.
But back to the matter at hand: Canonically, MC's pact with Belphegor is formed at Diavolo's birthday party. After he disappears from the main hall where everyone is and MC goes to find him on their own. That itself already seems wrong, I mean, I don't know about you personally but if I had just been murdered by someone a few days/weeks ago, I definitely wouldn't want to leave the side of those I'm safe with to go find that person alone. But canon MC is very dumb and we can't do anything about it so our only choice is to follow him.
We are also not given the choice to refuse the pact when it's proposed nor MC has the chance to speak a word about it. Now the way I see this, it's a clear sign that MC doesn't want a pact with him. They are scared and pressured into making a pact with Belphegor because they're not sure what could happen if they refused. Because then again, this is the guy that murdered them not that long ago and laughed at their dead body like he was having the time of his life. And the last time MC refused to make a pact didn't exactly go well either, with Satan shoving them into a bookshelf and threatening the hell out of them.
And if Satan that is Satan reacted like that, imagine Belphegor. And there was no one around either, canon MC had made the stupid decision to go find Belphegor on their own and had no one to protect them at the moment. So they have no choice, they are frozen with fear and are ""forced"" to make a pact with him even though they dread the idea. It's just awful and I hate that scene so much I can't even put it into words.
MC's pact with Belphegor shouldn't have been formed so early. They should've had the time to heal from all the trauma, time to distance themselves from Belphegor, and to process everything they had been through. And then only later they would slowly start to warm up to him again, after they know for a fact he's truly sorry for what he did and deeply regrets it. After they are ready to face him.
And for Belphegor's pact with MC to be formed on their last day in the Devildom, it would've simply been beautiful. Because then Belphegor would've also had the time to learn to appreciate MC, to realize how special they truly were, for what he did to become one of the biggest regrets he's ever carried. Belphegor would've had the time to see right in front of him how you treated those you had a pact with, time to realize that to you, a pact wasn't about gaining power and status, but about forming a deeper connection with someone.
The pacts you shared were proof of your strong bond with his brothers and all the love you had for them. And honestly, it broke his heart to be the only one in the family who didn't have that kind of connection with you. But he wouldn't dare ask for it, he couldn't ask for it. He didn't have the right, not after what he did to you that day. You were nice enough to forgive him, to treat him with kindness when all he deserved was your hate and loathing. He couldn't ask for more, no matter much he wished to.
So when you come around and ask him for a pact on your last night in the Devildom, he couldn't have felt happier. To know that you had come to trust him like that again even after all he did, for you to love him enough to want his pact mark on you for the rest of your life, it felt nothing short of incredible. He wondered what he had done to deserve you, because someone as caring and sweet as you should have no business staying close to someone as rotten as him. But he gladly accepts the pact after you confirm to him that's truly what you want. Belphegor then hugs you as tight as he can, sobbing in your embrace as he is filled with both the happiness of your newly formed pact and the sadness that you have to leave.
MC being the one to ask for a pact with Belphegor shows that they've come to trust him just as much as his brothers. And the pact itself is a sign that they've both come to overcome their past traumas and now feel more than comfortable with each other. It's proof of the strong and unbreakable bond they have.
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combaticon · 27 days
I think a lot about how prior to 2020 protesting was very much not seen as "cool" in the USA
Pertaining to USian media specifically, how often was picketing and rowdy crowds holding signs used as a punchline in comics/newspaper strips? I bring that up bc as someone who studied/studies comics that's where I saw the jokes most frequently, but I would bet money any USian sitcom tends to have at least one "crowd of protestors" joke where the crowd is played for laughs; of the USian sitcoms and dramas I've watched I can remember at least one scene where it was used as a joke. Like copaganda, these jokes are so embedded in moder USian media that they were often replicated without critical thinking of "WHY do I think this is a funny joke/reasonable plotline/realistic line of dialog frm a cop" and therefore regurgitated without thought, just a reinforcement that people in crowds carrying signs are hooting and hollering fools with nothing of value to say and only good for a laugh. And of course that is how propaganda in media works; they want those thoughts to be subconscious assumptions that are easily regurgitated without thought.
I've been doing protest shit and homeless outreach and Other Stuff since I was 16 and it was NOT COOL when I was that age. People made fun of me, they were like "what is this boyscout shit", I was ths frequent butt of jokes and receiver of eyerolls at family gatherings. One uncle, who I'm no longer in contact with, would exclaim upon my entrance to a family gathering, "Ay, ¡que viene el maricón con las peticiones!" (here comes the faggot with the petitions!) Until 2020 it was very much considered "cringe" or whatever, and people would laugh at you and honk at you in the streets, flip you off, scream stupid things at you.
It was shocking to me in 2020 when people were treating the BLM protests like social events, posting images up on social media, esp since as non-Blacks we were guests at what were essentially public outpourings of grief and should've acted accordingly. But bitches showed up dresses for hot girl summer, some white guy in an Optimus Prime costume showed up to one in LA iirc with a "Freedom Is The Right of All Sentient Beings" sign which was cool at first but in hindsight felt kinda tacky. Like. We showed up to medic and make sure ppl drank water and stayed as safe as possible. Other ppl were acting like it was a block party. And now it's like the cool and hip thing to do to show up for an hour, fuck around and take pictures, post them (shitty opsec btw) and leave before things get rough
nothing stayed the same but also nothing changed lol
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The Layers of Thomas Shelby - Unbreakable (one-shot)
Synopsis: Just because they now have a child, does not mean Tommy Shelby's wife has started to use her brain. It's how Tommy finds himself in a very familiar position, but not one he's happy about, all because she is a complete menace with a lack of self-preservation.
Pairing: Thomas Shelby x fem!Reader
Genre: angst/fluff
Warnings: swearing, mentions of being mugged/stabbed, blood, Reader being a menace again (someone call a doctor for Tommy, his heart won't hold out too long), smutty mentions, but nothing explicit
Word count: 3644
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He was going to kill her. Yes, she might be his wife and the mother to their daughter, the pride and joy of the Shelby clan, but Tommy was no longer above wrapping his hands around Y/N's neck and squeezing the life out of her body.  
Tommy sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Where was she seen last?”  
“Out in the park with your kiddo Sadie,” John said, taking off his peaky hat and dropping it on the table. “Asked Ada to take the little bugger 'cause she needed to run into the shops. When she didn't come back after an hour and a half, Ada found Arthur.”  
"Jesus Christ, the girl just gave birth,” Tommy muttered, dragging a hand down his face as he flipped the betting book he’d been looking over closed. "And she's already getting herself into trouble? Should've just tied her to the bed for a year or something."  
A silence settled over him and his brother, but when Tommy didn’t say anything, John piped up. “So, do you want us to do anything or...?”  
“Do I want you to – of course, I want you to do something!” Tommy scoffed standing up and pulling on his coat. “Get out there, find her before she gets herself chopped into pieces!”  
John was out the door before Tommy could put an arm through a sleeve, but he shouldn't be too surprised about that. Having been Y/N's brother-in-law for a couple of years now, John had pretty much come to expect her getting into trouble, so he had a car and a few of the Peaky Blinders on standby in case something like this happened... again.  
The search, however, proved to be fruitless, and it irritated Tommy to no end, as seemingly history was repeating itself, but this time, no matter if Y/N wanted to spare the lives of those involved, he wouldn’t listen. They’d receive pure Shelby judgement once they were found.  
After four hours of driving around Birmingham and having sent men to London, just in case, Tommy decided to go back to the shop and get some of the documents so he could take them home, saying to John “if someone contacts for ransom, they’ll probably call to the house, so I need to be there. Have Arthur stay here for the night, and let me know if you have anything. I’ll have the car ready to go."
But despite trying to focus on the betting books, it was as impossible as his wife's stubbornness, seeing as every possible option of what could’ve happened or be happening to his wife, was running rampant through his head. Tommy had made a lot of enemies, and now with Sadie in their lives, they knew one or the other loss would be absolutely devastating, which is why when eight in the evening rolled around, and there were no signs of Y/N, Tommy went over to his sister's and took Sadie home. He needed her next to him, needed to feel her skin on his chest, her rapid heartbeat against his own, and those tiny puffs of breath tickling his skin; to know at least one of his girls was home and safe with him.  
Despite all the anxiety he’d masked during the day, it had finally accumulated and reached a crashing point as he, with Sadie laying on his chest and him in the rocking chair Y/N used while feeding the little munchkin, fell into a fitful sleep, darting awake at the slightest sound, body and mind completely exhausted.  
It was around three in the morning, Tommy rocking Sadie back to dreamland after she’d screamed her head off announcing she needed to be fed, Frances making some baby formula to appease the black hole in the child’s stomach when a knock at the door disturbed him.  
“Lock yourselves in, and don’t answer unless it’s me.” He handed the maid his daughter before taking out a gun from a drawer next to her nappies, always ready to protect the most precious jewels of his family.  
Frances nodded, and without a sound, locked the door.  
His steps were silent as he went to the front door, stepping over the creaking floorboards which had been left there on purpose, to alert them of an intruder as everyone else was aware where not to step.  
Right before Sadie was born, Tommy had also had all the window latches changed and the doors as well, made of as thick of wood as he could find. He wasn’t going to risk his family because of the job he did, so when he ripped open the front doors, he’d expected to find someone wishing harm as all his extended family who he trusted had their own set of keys, yet instead, it was his own missing wife.  
“What a lovely greeting for your missis,” Y/N snorted, eyeing the gun. “Could you please lower it? I think I’ve had enough bullet holes shot in me to last me a while.”  
Instantly he put the gun behind his trousers and stepped forward, holding her at an arm’s length, eyes roaming up and down her body. “Where the hell have you been?”  
“Out.” Y/N pointed with her thumb over her shoulder, giving him a quick peck before slipping past him and into the lobby.  
“Out?” Tommy was just about to yell before he remembered about Sadie, so instead, he clenched his fists, trying to curb the emotions rising in him. “What do you mean out? You disappeared for the whole day! No one could find you! We tore the city apart; I’ve been worried sick!”  
“Oh, love, you shouldn’t have. You know I’ll always come back,” Y/N cooed, cupping his face and pulling him in for a kiss. Typically, Tommy would melt against her, but he knew it was a distraction strategy, his wife being well aware of what her mouth on his did to his common sense. It eradicated it, but he didn’t get to even snatch at her coat’s sleeve, as she ducked under his arm and rushed upstairs to their room  
Quickly Tommy followed her, but before that, he went over to Sadie’s nursery and informed Frances everything was alright and that Mrs Shelby had finally gotten home.  
The door clicked and Frances poked her head out, Tommy noting from over her shoulder Sadie was sound asleep in the crib he’d so meticulously built and carved, her stuffed horse gripped tightly in her small fingers.  
“Does the missis need any help getting ready for the evening?” Frances asked, quietly stepping out of the room and closing it.  
Tommy shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “No, it’s alright, I’ll take care of it. You should get some rest too, I’ll let you know if anything’s needed.”  
Frances nodded and with one last ‘goodnight’ diverted to her quarters, while he gathered himself a bit, otherwise, he was sure not-so-sweet things would escape his mouth when he confronted Y/N about what had happened.  
As he entered to stand at the opening of their room, anger was written all over his face clear as day, at least to her. Others wouldn’t be able to see it through the poker-face he always sported, but Y/N knew every twitch and tell of her husband. He was absolutely furious.  
He nudged his chin at her, observing her state. “What are you hiding?”  
“Whatever do you mean?” She shook her head, trying to give him a coquettish, smile, but he just squinted at her.  
“I mean.” He stepped into the room. “Why haven’t you taken your coat off?  
“Maybe I’m cold?”  
He motioned to the roaring fire in the hearth. “I always keep it going throughout the day so you’re not chilly at night. Try again.”  
“Well, maybe I just like it.” She trailed a hand down its sleeve. “I mean, it’s cashmere and in such a gorgeous colour. I just don’t think I wear it enough. Don’t you think I look beautiful in it?”  
Tommy placed his hands on his hips and walked to tower over her. “You have a dress made of exactly the same material in exactly the same colour, and you only fish for compliments like that when you’ve done something stupid.”  
"Please don’t be mad at me,” Y/N whispered as she winced while sitting down on the bed not daring to look at him.  
Tommy gritted his teeth and puffed out a breath. "Why?"  
"Because I may or may not have potentially gotten myself stabbed?"  
"Are you asking me or telling me?"  
"Well, seeing as I am bleeding from a hole in my side which wasn't there before, I think I am telling,” Y/N muttered, and Tommy noted the slow way she was saying the words. The panic had been underneath that ocean of calm of his all the time, but when he noted the first signs of her starting to lose consciousness, that's when it overtook his senses.  
“Hey, look at me.” He cupped her cheeks, and she gave him a delirious smile dissolving in his touch. “Don’t you dare pass out! Polly still needs to give you a talking.”  
Y/N dragged a finger down his chest looking at him coyly. “You could give me a talking if you know what I mean.”  
Tommy rolled his eyes, hands gently going to the lapels of the coat and pulling it off, eyes widening at the sight of red starting to stain her right side, her white and black polka dot dress now splotchy with blood. She’d obviously found some bandages if it’d taken it so long to start bleed through, but the wound probably needed stitching, not just light wrapping.  
"Who did this to you?” he asked, voice low, but Y/N pulled her lips in a tight line and shook her head while he went and got a bottle of vodka which he soaked a gauze with, and she unwrapped herself from the dress, slightly swaying on her feet, the silken material slipping to the floor leaving her in just her undergarments and garters. She'd even managed to lose her shoes. He sighed. Her and her shoes...
Tommy went back to her and tucked open the end of the wrapping, gently removing it from around Y/N’s waist. The gash was small and shallow, but blood was still pouring out of it, so while she laid down on the bed, their white sheets stained red immediately, he found some suturing needles and stitching thread. “I’m gonna ask only once. Who did this to you?”  
Defiant silence greeted him as his wife stared back at his blue eyes, annoyance shining in hers. Tommy dropped his head. “Why can’t you, at least for once in your life just listen to me? Just do what you're told.”  
Y/N let out a teary chuckle as she hissed and dug her nails in his biceps while Tommy pressed the alcohol-soaked cloth to the wound. He knew that feeling well, so the fact that she wasn’t calling him every name under the sun, probably meant she was becoming very delirious, and he needed to quickly patch her up. “Well, you didn't fall in love with me because I was so good at listening to you or because I was such an obedient little wife.” She smirked and wiggled her brows. “But I can be a very good girl if you ask me nicely.”  
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Tommy muttered, wiping at the edges of the wound and disinfecting the needle and thread. “Why are you horny right now? You've been stabbed.”  
“How can I not be?” She dragged a hand over the waistline of Tommy’s trousers pushing her fingers behind the belt. “When I have such a handsome husband. Besides, me being injured has never stopped us from having fun.”  
“No, it hasn’t.” Tommy leaned to hover over Y/N’s face. “But during those moments, you weren’t actively bleeding out. Now take a drink and lay still so I can stitch you up.”  
She rolled her Y/E/C eyes. “You’re no fun.” But no more complaints came from her mouth as she accepted the vodka bottle, took a generous swing of the contents and allowed Tommy to close the wound in her side. By the time he was tying the last knot and putting a bandage over it, Y/N’s eyes were starting to droop, the adrenaline having left her system and now just wishing to sleep the rest of the week away.  
More times than he could count, Tommy had had to take Y/N up to their bed. Even when they hadn’t been `together`, he always made sure if she fell asleep somewhere that wasn’t her bed, she’d wake up warm underneath her sheets. Her body was nothing but a feather at this point, so used to the weight and motions of lifting her up and pulling away the covers to lay her down on them.  
“I was doing research,” Y/N grumbled, underneath her breath as Tommy tucked her in.  
His groomed eyebrows rose to the middle of his forehead. “Research? For what?”  
“My book.”  
Tommy dragged a hand down his face. “And how was getting stabbed involved in it?”  
“It wasn’t,” she sighed. “But hey – now I’ll be able to accurately describe what it’s like to get stabbed in full detail.”  
“That’s not funny.”  
“I think it is.”  
“You also think Finn is a comedic genius, so your judgment is way off here, love.” Y/N pouted at that, but Tommy just bit on his bottom lip instead of leaning down and kissing it away like he normally would. “Why aren’t you telling me how you got hurt? Was it...” Something dawned on him, and his whole being straightened out, deathly calm overcoming him. “Was it Grace?”  
“No.” Y/N opened her eyes, shaking her head and ran a reassuring hand down his chest to slow that racing heart of his. “No, it wasn’t her. I’d never let that woman get within hundred feet of me, and if I did there’d be a bullet in her head.”  
Tommy was completely lost. “Then who?”  
“It’s stupid.” Y/N covered her face with her palms and then hissed as she pulled at the stitches, Tommy grabbing her wrists and tenderly pulling them down to rest by her sides, his thumbs rubbing circles against the skin on the inside of them.  
“Just tell me.”  
His tone was almost pleading. Tommy never begged, he wasn’t one to do that unless it came to his wife. If she asked him to get on his knees, he’d do so without so much as a peep, if she demanded he plead, he’d do so as if his life depended on it, and Y/N had abused that power over him many a night during moments where he so desperately chased pleasure, pliable clay in her masterful hands, mouth, but most of the time in his favourite place, wrapped tightly in her warm cunt, milking him for all he had.
“I got mugged,” she finally muttered, a big pout on her lips, as she avoided Tommy’s gaze, but he just frowned, already mentally on his way to find out who’d dared to do that to his wife. He was very much so surprised there were still idiots around them who didn't know who Y/N was and what happened to those who tried to hurt her.
“And how is that stupid?”  
“Because I’m a Shelby, and I couldn’t fight off two men with pocketknives,” Y/N groaned, throwing her head back against the pillows. “Do you know how embarrassing that is?”  
Tommy sighed, leaning over her and pressing their foreheads together, a gentle hand cupping her cheek. “You gave birth barely a month ago.”  
“So?” He rolled his eyes, before softly smiling at her. “So, I’m not expecting you to be able to even properly walk, let alone fight. Which is why from now on, I’d prefer if you didn’t go off like that alone again. I know you never take my advice.” He gave her a stern look, and Y/N sunk deeper into the pillows. “But this time, it won’t be a suggestion, but an order.”  
“Because apparently when you’re on your own, you have this way of attracting trouble.”  
“Not true.” She poked his side, smirking. “I got shot standing right next to you.”  
“Yeah, don’t remind me,” it was Tommy’s turn to grumble, before sighing and leaning down to untie his shoes. It didn’t appear he’d be getting any more work done, seeing as that night he’d not only have to take care of their little Sadie but his wife as well. “I just,” he started and then swallowed, the words he wanted to say one of the hardest to get out. “I need you to be more careful. I already told you, the only thing that’d ever break me is losing you, and now that we have a kid... I can’t do this without you. It won’t break me; it’ll shatter me to the point there won’t be anything to put back together. I need you more than anything.”  
“I know I worry you,” Y/N muttered, lifting her hand so that her fingers could trace the knife-sharp cheekbones. "And I’m so sorry, as it’s not my intention, and you have to know that I’ll fight until my very last breath to come home to you, to Sadie, but you also need to know, I'm like water, so you don't have to concern yourself so much about me,” she mumbled, sleep lacing her words and thoughts.  
“In what way?"
“I’m unbreakable.”  
“But water is liquid.”  
“Exactly,” she muttered.  
Tommy’s brow furrowed. “That’s not how things work," the words were soft as he was trying to figure out what her incoherent mind meant.  
But there was no reasoning with Y/N at that point, as her delirious brain made her say, “Of course, it does. Water never breaks, well, except when it's frozen, but then it's ice, so it doesn't count, or when you’re pregnant, but that’s not even water, and that’s not the thing breaking and -,” yet Tommy wasn’t truly listening anymore, just smiled at the sound of his wife’s rambles, while he unbuttoned his shirt, and took off the trousers to quickly rush into the bathroom and give his face a quick wash because he was definitely not gonna be able to have a normal shower or bath that night.  
It took him two minutes, but when he returned, Y/N had already snuggled into his pillow. He'd have a hard time later on in the night retrieving it to put under his own head. She always had an iron tight grip on it if she fell asleep like that. “Can I ask you something?” she mumbled, more asleep already than awake.  
“That depends.” He sat back down on the side of the bed and pushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Will it end up with me banging my skull against the wall because of your recklessness?”  
Y/N shrugged. “Maybe.”  
He chuckled, shaking his head. “What is it, love?”  
“Will you paint my toes in the morning?”  
He lifted a brow. "And Ada can’t because...?”  
She frowned, opening one of her eyes. “Because she doesn’t know how to stay in the lines. I end up with painted toes, not nails, and I want to wear those strappy shoes with the open front to the gala we have in two days; the ones you got me before my feet swelled three times their size.”  
“What makes you think I’ll be taking you to the gala? You don’t have that good of a track record with them, and you have a very much so bleeding hole in your side.”  
Y/N scoffed. “I’m your wife. Of course, you’ll take me.”  
“You know, I did save your life,” he chuckled, sliding underneath the covers. “Shouldn’t I be the one making demands as you owe me now?”  
“Nope,” Y/N popped the `p`, shuffling closer to Tommy and the warmth radiating from his body. “God wanted me dead, but you didn’t let me. Now I’m your problem.”  
“I mean – he wanted me dead.” She winked up at him. “Now you get to find out why.”  
Tommy sighed, dropping his head into the crook of her neck. “You will make me go grey before I even should.”  
“Oh, no, that.” She poked him in the sun tattoo. “Is Sadie’s job. And trust me – she's going to be even worse.”  
He rolled his eyes, smiling at her. “She’s an angel.”  
“Yeah, for now, but just you wait.” Y/N snuggled into his body, while Tommy’s arm wrapped around her waist, wary of her hurt side. “She’s the merged version of us, and honestly, I don’t think the world is prepared for that. And neither are we.”  
Tommy closed his eyes, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s temple. “Well, it’s a good thing then that she’s not allowed to grow up.”  
“Go and try to tell her that.” She yawned, body relaxing in his safe hold. “You should know better than anyone that Shelby women have a hard time listening to what they’re told.”  
“I think, I’m gonna go enlist for a war again.”  
Y/N snorted, shaking her head before her own arm settled around Tommy’s waist as it did most nights. “Good luck with that.” She pressed a kiss to his chest, right above his steadily beating heart. “You won’t get out of the bed, let alone the country. I am never letting you go without a fight, and trust me – I’ll take on an army before that is even an option.”  
Tommy couldn’t help the smile he seemingly had permanently etched on his face whenever Y/N was around. Not that he was complaining. He never wanted to be let go by her. After all – she was his home, and there was no place like it.
Thomas Shelby tags: @datewithgianni​ @captivatedbycillianmurphy @screemqueen @mrsmalfoyshelby​
Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished @strangersstranger​
A/N: This is my little gift to you before the New Years!
Here's to a better 2022 than 2021 was!
P.S. hope you liked this :)
P.S.S. please don't plagiarise my work and repost it on other platforms (wattpad etc). re-blogs are very welcome
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sehnsuchts-trunken · 5 months
Dearest Mary,
may I please request something where Riven and reader [girlfriend/fiancée/wife] and the reader is maybe Sky's sister and both get overprotective of her?
tw, some guy slapped the reader's ass before this happened, so
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You stormed into the room ahead of the two men running after you, holding your head in both hands, a headache already throbbing behind your temples.
"Shut up!", you groaned, throwing yourself onto the bed - Riven's bed - and grabbing the pillow to press it down on your face, trying to suffocate yourself. Death would be easier than dealing with these two.
"He fucking slapped your ass, what did you think I'd do, tell him to come back tomorrow?", Riven asked, his face still a little red, his hair a mess from how often he'd run his hands through it, his voice still dripping with anger.
"Let me deal with it!", you muffled into the pillow, hearing Sky say the same thing at the same time. You rolled your eyes - not that they could see.
"Why the fuck would I let you deal with it?", Riven asked, and you didn't even have to be able to watch them to know that he'd turned around to face Sky. "You stood on the other side of the hallway!"
"She's my sister", he hissed.
"She's my fucking girlfriend!", Riven shot back.
You lifted the pillow and threw it at the both of them. It wouldn't do any good anyway. You couldn't escape this conversation as much as you wanted to.
"My god, shut up, the both of you assheads!", you nagged, sitting up in the bed. "None of you had to 'deal with it', I could've fucking incinerated him in the matter of a second! Fairy, remember?"
You sighed, running a hand over your face before you spoke again.
"It's nice of you to want to deal with it, I'm not saying it's not. God, be angry, please, I'm fucking furious, I don't think I've ever felt this much rage. But that was my fight, that was my bastard to punch. Ever thought about the fact that maybe I would've liked to give him that bloody nose, Riv? Ever thought about the fact that maybe I would've liked to kick him in the ass, Sky?"
Because that was exactly what they'd done - Riven had been next to you when it had happened, and before you'd even fully turned around to look at the guy's face, Riven had already punched him right in the nose. Sky must have seen what had happened, because (after Riven had punched him a second time, screaming some curses and obscenities at him along the way) he had come at him a second later, connecting his boot with the guy's backside, sending him toppling over to land face-first on the ground.
Miss Fowling had appeared a moment later, separated everyone (there'd still been a lot of chaos, Riven had still been yelling (you'd had to hold him back or he'd have jumped right back into the fight) and the guy had still been bleeding, now also holding his nose as tears streamed down his face), then brought you all to her office, and when everything had been settled (she'd not screamed, which you found very admirable): Riven and Sky were both in detention for a month. The other guy for two. And signed up for multiple anti-harassment seminars. And appointments with Miss Fowling herself, to 'talk'.
You hadn't got any punishment. Which was reasonable, of course, because you'd done nothing, but that was exactly the reason why you'd stormed out of the office the second she had dismissed you.
"I know, I know", Sky sighed, flopping down on his own bed. "I'm sorry."
You both looked up at Riven, who stood there for a moment, snorting and huffing and shaking his head.
Then he too sat down on the bed (yours, or - actually his own) and pulled you into his arms, your face against his chest, his chin on top of your head.
"You should've had the chance to kick his ass", he muttered with a grin. "Sorry."
It was rare that he apologised.
You sighed.
"Thanks, guys", you said. "For standing up for me as well. Even if I really would've liked to do it myself."
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sunkissedchld · 1 year
𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒔𝒉 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓?
the piles go from top left to right. so, african violet is pile i, pastel lilac is pile ii, and so on and so forth.
take the time to close your eyes, breathe, and meditate on the PAC prompt, then open your eyes and let your guides lead you to the pile for you. i hope you enjoy, and please let me know if it resonates with you! my ask box is open [even to anonnies]).
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𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘵 - 🔮
the people choosing this pile are looking for hope during a time where they feel very anxious and possibly even lonely. you might feel as if you've been struggling and fighting for a long time and don't feel that you can go on any longer. although you feel this way, your harsh truth is that you have to keep going and fighting until the bitter end. no one else can help you complete this breakthrough and gain the self-confidence and skill that will be learned from this treacherous time. other people can't take on this burden for you - it has to be done by you.
you're meant to feel isolated right now because old bonds are being broken and disintegrated while new ones are being crafted. you likely feel like you're going through a bad luck period; you might feel disillusioned with life and disappointed. one way you can overcome this is by no longer looking back on the past and worrying about what would've or should've been. all of that has already been done and whatever has happened can't be taken back. now is the time to take actions towards a new future and seek your own truth for the present moment rather than dwelling on the past. that's when your luck will renew.
general messages & things that may resonate: "this is my last straw"; "i can't do this anymore"; "why do people think this about me?"; "what did i even do?"; "so much for that"; someone with light hair (ie. strawberry blonde, honey blonde, could be bleached recently); someone who is a social butterfly or around social butterflies usually; screen time; movies; tall (in height or in thoughts and beliefs); nurturer; green; you could be drawn to my profile picture and page because of the green
shufflemancy: "deep" by big sean feat. lil wayne; "black cat nero" by ateez; "everlasting love" by fifth harmonyl "neighbors" by j. cole
𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘤 - 💜
there's a lot of anger in the people that chose this pile. you might naturally be generous towards others and be the type of person to give your last when you have none. you gain a lot from being this generous and helpful towards others. one harsh truth you need to hear is that everyone isn't your friend, so stop continuing to be overly helpful when people have shown their intentions towards you. you're not obligated to save and help everyone you come across. stop following in the footsteps of tradition and allowing people to take your kindness for granted.
at this current point in time, someone is manipulating you because you're allowing them to. you know that they are because you've recently started feeling more upset than usual - that's because your inner and higher self know that you're downplaying your worth and allowing yourself to be walked all over. it's time to break the precedent you've set and create a new one. when you allow this anger to be heard and seen, people will recognize it and you will begin feeling at peace again. make the decision and follow through with actions to show your seriousness and relieve yourself of the anger you feel before it hardens and turns into greed and a lack of willingness to help others at any point.
general messages & things that may resonate: "i wanna be free"; "don't take me for granted"; "i'm only hurting me"; "perfect control"; "he left us all behind"; "you promised"; air signs (gemini, libra, aquarius); relationship problems; "what happened to the plan we had"; monolingual; someone in the field of science and technology; astronomy; planter/green thumb; non-committal; someone is cheating; "whoopsie"; petite/small (could be thoughts or physical size)
shufflemancy: "superstar" by shinee; "destruction" by piri feat. kold-blooded; "hold on" by h.e.r; "out of control" by the boyz
𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘢 - ☔
first, if you also felt drawn to pile i go read it first. pile i and you have similar topics in that both of you currently feel insecure and might even be feeling like you have imposter syndrome. you're thinking "am i even good enough to do what it is i'm being told to"? "why do people view me in this way when i'm nothing like that?". despite this, there's also a little voice in your head and/or heart that gives you hope and is giving you insight from afar even if you feel it's hard to interpret or understand. your harsh truth is that your anxiety and shortsightedness is what's holding you back from seeing the light. you need to have confidence in yourself because without it you will falter and never feel good enough. other people's compliments and encouragement will mean nothing until you give them to yourself.
this may come as a surprise to some of you - fame and recognition is in your future, but you know the idea of "you never know what's happening behind closed doors"? when you receive this limelight, you will never feel satisfied with what you're doing and your accomplishments until you praise yourself for what you've done. the most meaningful gifts and compliments must come from yourself or else all the others are just words and material things. you can't allow self-pity and depression allow you to not see yourself for the gem and unique person you are. you deserve to see the beauty in yourself. freeing yourself from needing others' compliments and instead giving them to yourself will free you from your current stress.
general messages & things that may resonate: "i wouldn't wanna be anybody else"; "i'm sure you've got some things you'd like to change about yourself"; "you don't know where i've been"; "you think you know, but you have no idea"; "they don't understand"; someone is science and technology; someone planning on changing the future of society; someone with a heart for humanity; empath; self employment; seemingly no direction; spontaneity; "just winging it tbh"; 30s; medium or dark hair (ie. black, jet black, raven black)
shufflemancy: "bills, bills, bills" by destiny's child; "mo money (interlude)" by j. cole; "who says" by selena gomez; "you don't know me" by ariana grande
𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘦𝘯 - 👾
the people choosing this pile are hard workers willing to do anything in order to achieve their wants and dreams. you have a strong willpower and mind set that enables you to be successful often. you'll continue to work until you're on your last leg and suffering both mentally and physically. you don't allow others to help you even when you need it. your harsh truth is that you're so oblivious it hurts. you need to re-evaluate what you're doing and the track you're heading down as a result of your actions and instincts. you're leading yourself down a path where plans will get canceled either because of event issues or because of personal health issues. you know the saying "if you don't take a break your body will force you to take one"? that's the path you're currently working towards. this will eventually lead you to feelings of gloom and self-doubt. you'll think that this path isn't for you or your beliefs are wrong when in reality, you're just working too hard. you are on the right path, but even those following the correct way need breaks.
remember to look for and enjoy the little parts of life. if you're so focused on meeting the next goal/the next finish line, then you'll never appreciate it when you meet the one you were striving for last time. you'll always be on the search for the next best thing, and you'll end up never being satisfied which would be unfortunate because blessings and luck are intrinsically linked to you. do all things in moderation and change the current way you view your reaching of goals in order to have true satisfaction.
general messages & things that may resonate: "pride is the devil.. i think it got a hold on me"; "pride is the reason for the dichotomy"; "stop"; "i get breathless"; screen time/movies; work; social butterfly; little miss/mister perfect; "everything i touch turns to gold"; sexual frustration/release; not self employed; working for a big company; striving for recognition and overwhelming success; medium or dark hair (ie. brown, brunette, mousy brown); skillful; jack of all trades; (former) procrastinator; "one less problem"; "this is the come up"
shufflemancy: "no scrubs" by tlc; "blow the whistle" by too short; "run" by otis kane; "pride.is.the.devil" by j. cole feat. lil baby
𝘭𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘦 - 🍇
so many many messages came out for this pile, so you could be the most confused about your current life situation, or you're being oblivious to signs being sent to you. you're naturally in tune with the divine feminine, your emotions, and your intuition. you're such an original with rich skill and the resources to succeed (even if you don't feel you do). new beginnings are at the tip of your future, and you're staring at them in awe, but the inner feelings you harbor towards prior experiences that have turned sour keeps them from reaching you like you expect. it's like you want revenge against those that have wronged you. by the way, if you were drawn to pile ii, please go read it! i feel that some people overlap between that pile and this one. your harsh truth aligns with theirs in that you can't let prior experiences sour your future.
as of now, your bitterness and craving for revenge is leading you to be lethargic and experience delays. you might even feel frustrated because, again, you can see new beginnings and blessings in sight but they're being kept away from you. they will continue to be out of reach until you allow karma to do its work on its own and not influence the outcome. this is going to be hard to understand, but you need to learn to forgive whoever hurt you; this doesn't mean you have to be friends with them or be totally enthusiastic when thinking about them, but you need to at least allow yourself to be indifferent towards them. like i said before, you need to allow karma and the universe to do the work of allowing them to reap what they've sown. you need to forgive in order to heal. after you do that, you will feel so secure and see the blessings you've been eyeing plop directly into your lap. a new found love and connection will likely present itself afterwards also.
this is your Tower moment in that you need to remove your prior foundation and buildings in order to create something grander and more fit for you rather than for others who have pressured or influenced you to do something different. this pettiness is not of you, so don't allow it to consume you. allow optimism and passion for something new to fill you and leave behind what brings about depression and anger. listen to your intuition and think over the dreams your guides have sent you. it's time for you to heal and go on new journeys rather than wallowing in despair.
general messages & things that may resonate: 12:11; "i can't just invest in shit"; "i see right through it"; "if this is the way it is, don't even put me through it"; "you just want attention"; "i know that dress is karma, perfume regret"; sexual expriences/first time; intelligence; mystery; hidden enemies; hidden intentions; science and technology; computer science; tall (in height); skillful; high position; travel and adventure; air sign (libra, gemini, aquarius); "i suck at letting go"; age gap; "die a little bit"; "i wanna be prepared; just in case"; "come my way"
shufflemancy: "jealous" by kehlani feat. lexii alijai; "superstar" by shinee; "my name is" by eminem; "attention" by charlie puth
𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘺 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘭𝘦 - 🎆
this pile has been feeling nostalgic recently. you miss your childhood, don't you? you miss the feelings of not being worried, of being free of adult responsibilities and stressors. you miss when your biggest worry was whether or not your friend would be at school so you two could play together. you might be in high school or college as of now and although you're experiencing some successes, something is missing. you feel as if you need to go through a rebirth phase; you need something or someone new and exciting to come in and give you a shock. you're daydreaming of this a ton to the point where it might even be messing up your study schedule or something of the sort. you could be separating from your childhood friends and that's also partially why you feel nostalgic.
your harsh truth is that a whole new community of people and friends are waiting on you and willing to give you the new and exciting life you're looking for, but you're avoiding or ignoring them. you might not even know them personally yet, but your daydreaming on old friendships keeps you from opening up to others. maybe your shyness gets the best of you? or you worry if old bad habits will pop up and ruin everything, but you need to slowly but surely put yourself out there. do everything in moderation and at your own pace. be willing to be uncomfortable in order to experience what you daydream about. create new foundations in order to become the next version of yourself.
general messages & things that may resonate: "i wanna be in the gold of time"; "highlight of my life"; "i love it when we make up"; "it's a mood; it's a vibe"; 20s; quiet time; introvert; culinary arts; foodie; performing arts; artistic kid; earth sign (taurus, virgo, capricorn); narcissism; medium or dark hair (ie. black, brown); tan complexion; spring break; vacations/traveling; study abroad; ariana grande stan
shufflemancy: "dancing like butterfly wings" by ateez; "no tears left to cry (live)" by ariana grande; "no friends in the industry" by drake; "make up (live)" by ariana grande
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thelovelylolly · 17 days
here’s a request:
could you please do one where reader goes through a nasty breakup from her toxic ex boyfriend and she goes to robin for comfort
Break Up
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Summary : After your break up with your toxic boyfriend, you go to Robin for comfort. Warnings : mention of toxic relationship, negative self talk bc of said relationship, i did make the ex-boyfriend billy hargrove bc i feel like he would fit so theres that, unrequited feelings Notes : thank you for the request! comforting robin >>>
"Get out!" You screamed, throwing things at your now ex-boyfriend. You had caught Billy on top of another girl in the back of his car and after a long, tense and silent drive back to your house, you two argued in your living room. You were sick of his cheating and abuse of your forgiveness, you were sick of him.
"Fine! I'll find another girl anyway, one better than you!" Billy yelled back, trying to dodge the things you threw at him. He scrambled out of your house, running to his car.
You followed him to the door, flipping him off as he drove away. You went back inside and slammed the door shut behind you. Finally, you let the tears that had welled up to fall. You sobbed as you walked through your messy living room to the phone.
You picked up the phone and dialed Robin's number. As the phone rang, you looked at the mess you had made because of Billy and made a mental note to clean it up before your parents got home from their weekend trip.
"Hello?" Robin said through the phone. You felt relief wash over you when you heard your best friend's voice.
You took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Hey Rob," you replied, your voice cracking.
"Woah, are you okay? What happened? Did someone do something to you?"
"Billy and I are done. I caught him with another girl and...we fought. It was bad, Rob, I-" you voice cracked again and you let out a sigh. "I don't wanna be alone right now."
"I'm on my way," she immediately said. You heard some noise on the other end, you guessed it was her grabbing her shoes or sweatshirt.
"Okay, I'll be here."
"See you soon," Robin said, then hung up.
You put the phone back then walked over to start cleaning up, wiping your eyes as you bent down to grab the pillow you had thrown. You had thrown anything you could at Billy, and he deserved it. Pillows, a blanket, the remote, a video tape, some fake flowers you mother had put up.
Once things looked semi-clean, you didn't know what else to do as you waited for Robin. You went over to your front door, sitting on the floor next to it. You stared off into space, lost in your thoughts. You should’ve seen the signs earlier. Billy was…so many terrible things but you kept trying to brush it off because what you two had was special, right? Maybe if you tried harder, maybe if you listened to his suggestions, maybe if you-
The doorbell rang, snapping you out of your thoughts. You stood up, wiping the fresh tears that had fallen. You quickly unlocked the door and swung it open. In an instant, Robin was in your house with her arms around you. You melted into her touch, letting yourself cry again.
"It's okay, I got you," she murmured, rubbing soothing circles on your back.
"I-I should've see-seen it, I'm s-so stupid," you stuttered between sobs and gasps of air.
"Hey," Robin said, pulling away to look you in the eye. "You are not stupid. If anything, I'm the dumb one."
You laughed, your smile shaking as you tried to stop crying.
"He treated you like shit, and you don't deserve that. Y-you deserve to be treated like...like a princess or something," she continued before the conversation stopped.
You both were quiet and Robin finally got a good look at you. Your hair was messy, your eyes were glossy and red, your cheeks had tear stains on them, your lips were puffy. But you were still so pretty, so beautiful. Robin wished she could tell you how she felt, she wished she could kiss you and hold you and make you forget him.
"I should, uh, close the door," you suddenly said, pulling away from Robin's hold. Robin just stood there as you closed and locked the door. With your backs facing each other, you tried to pull yourself together before turning around.
Robin turned to you, a smile on her face. "C'mon, let's go to your room."
She put her arm around you and led you to your room. She's been over so many times that she knew your house like her own.
Robin opened the door and led you to your bed. Once you sat down, she grabbed you some pajamas to change into. While you changed, she went into your bathroom and grabbed a cloth, wetting it a bit. After you changed, Robin came back in and sat next to you. She started wiping off your makeup and the tearstains.
She stood up after she finished. "Get some sleep, I'll stay the night," she said.
"Okay, g'night, Rob," you replied sleepily, laying down and getting under your covers.
"Goodnight," you heard her reply as she turned off the lights.
Robin set the cloth on your vanity stand before sitting on the other side of your bed. She took off her shoes, her sweatshirt and jeans. She laid down, her back facing you, but she didn't fall asleep. She waited until she heard your soft snores before turning around.
You were facing her in your sleep, your lips parted and hair falling over your face. Robin carefully reached over and pushed the loose strands away.
Robin yearned to pull you close and hold you, to kiss you, to be with you. But you didn't see her that way. She had to just be your best friend and push her feelings down as best she could.
"I love you," she whispered before falling asleep.
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