#and again IT IS MORE COMPLEX THAN THIS before people start coming into my asks saying im misogynistic

[leulah]

Gender Roles in the ASOIAF Fandom

There is a lot of discourse going around about female roles and femininity in ASOIAF and how certain characters are less than for fitting into traditional ideas about gender roles in the series. And while there are so many things fucked about this discussion of "who is the better victim of misogyny", I also think a lot of people are missing the point entirely.

I see a lot of accounts saying that it is backwards or "tradwife" to defend certain female characters because they quote "uphold the patriarchy", and defending them is regressive because it is what is viewed as the expectation and standard in the real world for real women- which is true it is the expectation. But it is a very black and white view on a very complex problem to just write off all "soft female" characters as misogynistic because they fit into this real world standard. This discussion runs a lot deeper than "feminine good/masculine bad", because at the end of the day female roles are still viewed as being lower than male roles in society. In the eyes of the patriarchy being masculine is always better because it's about power and control, and in order to have this power women and femininity have to be viewed as beneath them. You can see this when men get emasculated because their partner makes more money than them, or they make fun of girly things- these gender roles are less about "promoting femininity" than it is about promoting a power dynamic.

That is why are characters who are more masculine and don't fall into these expectations of gender roles like Dany or Arya, are generally viewed better in the larger fandom space than those that do. It is because being masculine is always viewed as being better than being feminine, and in a fictional world where these women in power pose no actual threat to real men's masculinity they are viewed as being stronger and better people. Being masculine makes these women more worthy of respect in the eyes of the fandom. This is also similar to how when discussing history people often say: "Look women were also warriors! They're important too," as if a woman's worth only comes from her proximity to masculinity, and the women who were just mothers and wives and weavers are unworthy of our admiration and respect. Even though it is true that real society promotes and expects women to fit into a traditional female role, being masculine is still viewed as superior to being feminine.

By contrast, female characters in ASOIAF like Catelyn and Sansa who do not fall into this warrior women archetype are often berated and hated by the fandom. On one side, because they are viewed as weak and by being traditionally feminine they are seen as "upholding the patriarchy" in Westeros- disregarding the fact they are victims of it as well. But on the other hand, a lot of the complaints about Cat and Sansa come from men who feel as though they threaten men's power in the series. A common complaint about Catelyn is that she undermined and questioned Robb's power- because how dare she have a say in what happens to her family. Sansa the eleven year old is often criticized for "betraying Ned" by going to Cersei and writing the letter, with people often saying its her fault for the war and not the various adults and men in power. If a male character like Jon or Ned questions or goes against those in power it is seen as necessary and strategic, but when a female character takes any action or autonomy in their own narrative, it is viewed as a threat.

And of course there is more nuance to this, because not everyone does like the characters who break out of gender expectations, and these women in power are still viewed as a threat when their story intertwines with men. Daenerys gets respect insofar as she is not a threat to other main male characters, but the second she stands in the way of Jon's supposed claim or being Azor Ahai, she is discarded by the fandom and must be sacrificed as "the Nissa Nissa for Jon's heroic storyline". These women in masculine roles are celebrated in the fandom space, but when they too begin to question male authority their support crumbles under the same misogyny the feminine characters face.

There are many reasons why someone would prefer the female characters that fight and break out of gender roles over ones that are more traditional, but if your reaction to femininity is one of weakness and worthlessness I think you need to do some self reflection on your relationship to women. Yes, the "let women be soft" argument is reductive due to irl expectations, but that doesn't make feminine women deserving of your hate and harassment. Fiction is not reality, and people don't have the same expectations and reactions between them, and trying to boil down a complex discussion on power dynamics and gender roles in the series to "feminine bad" is reductive and not at all the message. Both sets of women deserve respect and both suffer under the rules and traditions in their world, but you have to remember there is no "better victim". There is no winner under the patriarchy.

[celestial-kestrel]

It's that time of year again where Mari Lwyd starts to be talked about and shared around and an INCREDIBLY misleading post gets shared a lot. As someone who grew up with Mari Lwyd I wanted to clear some things up.

Also hello, if you are unaware who Mari Lwyd is. This is about the Welsh tradition of the horse skull who visits houses during the Christmas to New Years period in Wales asking for alcohol.

First off and probably the most important one:

Mari Lwyd is not a cryptid!

I can not emphasise this enough. She. Is. Not. A. Cryptid. There is no story or mystery about a ghost or zombie horse roaming the Welsh valleys. She's not even supposed to be a ghost or a zombie. It's just a horse skull on a stick with a guy under a sheet. She's a hobbyhorse and a folk character used to tell Welsh stories and keep songs alive. When people spread the misinformation that she's a cryptid, it's the equivalent of saying Kermit the Frog is a cryptid.

She is actually only one character in a wider cast of characters who go door to door or, in more modern times, pub to pub. The cast of characters can change town to town and village to village but there are some common ones I see time and time again. The Leader, the Merryman, The Jester and The Lady are just some I see regularly. Punch and Judy used to be more popular a few years ago but I haven't seen them in a while as their tradition has mostly fallen out of popularity. In most cases, almost the whole cast will be played by men. Even the characters are considered and referred to as female. Though this again depends and varies by which group is partaking in the Mari Lwyd tradition.

This point also goes onto my second point,

Mari Lwyd does not rap.

I think this comes from a very common misunderstanding of what rap is vs spoken word. Rap is a very specific style of music originating from the African American communities of the USA and has it's own structure and motifs unique to it. It's a lot more complex than people give it credit for as a style of music and just flippantly assign anything similar to it as being rap. If someone is talking fast or reciting poetry, it is not rap. Or anything that is an exchange of words between two people is not a rap battle. Mari Lwyd does not do rap, actually something that gets left out of these posts is the fact Mari Lwyd does not even speak. It's actually the Leader, who does all the speaking and song based banter between the house/pub owner for entry. Mari Lwyd just clicks her mouth, bites people and bobs her head around.

I think Mari Lwyd is a really beautiful and unique part of Welsh culture. She's not actually as wildly celebrated as a lot of the posts make her out to be. Actually, I think most Welsh people themselves learn about Mari Lwyd through the internet as well. Her popularity is increasing thanks to the drive of local groups wanting to keep the traditions alive and a renewed desire to document Welsh traditions before they're gone. Which is why it's such a shame that she's turned into something she's not to earn horror points on the internet. I think this is why it bothers me so much to see the misunderstandings of the culture and the folk tradition. Mari Lwyd's origin is very hot debated as well as how long it's been going on for. But I think it's thanks to a lot of traditions like this that the Welsh language and our stories weren't lost forever. Welsh culture is recovering as is the language. But it's still in a very fragile place. I think it's why it's important to document and correct information when it's spread.

Anyway, if you want to see the tradition in action, here's a lovely video from the Cwmafan RFC going to one of the pubs for charity. It includes the song exchange with the pub owner for entry and the whole pub singing and joining in once Mari Lwyd and the rest are inside.

As well with another video from St Fagan's showcasing the more traditional and door to door form with the larger cast.

[little-writers-posts]

Something More Between Us (The Milkman x GN Reader)

Author's Note: A short draft that was playing in my mind because of the milkman on TikTok. I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 781

The clock marked 9 p.m., marking the end of my shift as a doorman at the apartment complex where I live. I stretched out on the chair and sighed. At the same time, the other doorman comes through the door to take my place and start his shift.

“Hey, (Y/N), how was your day?” he asked as he started to unpack his things.

“A little tiring, to be honest. Had four residents, plus two without an entry request, and caught six doppelgangers, some more violent than others, but it comes with the job, I suppose.” I said as I packed my things.

“I’m lucky to be on the night shift” he smiled. “I only have three tenants on the list, and according to the DDD all the tenants are in the building except for those.”

“Don’t be careless. Our lives are at stake here.” I warned. “But, you’re right, you’re lucky.” I smiled.

I quickly scanned his list for the night and my heart skipped a beat. Francis name was there, I assume he left for his job as a milkman and, if I remember correctly from my night shifts, he was one of the first to arrive. 

When I started working as a doorman as well as living at the building, one of the perks was to get to know the people who lived in the same space. I always thought that Francis was good-looking, even with those tired eyes. However, even if we do chat a bit at the door or on the occasional bump in the corridors, we never really moved past that. He is a very reserved person and prefers to keep things private, I get that, plus he never seamed that interested in me.

As I was lost in thought, I heard two voices in the entrance lobby and realised my colleague was gathering all the folders to check the information.

“Mmm… Hello” I heard Francis say through the door.

“Good evening mister Mosses” greeted the doorman. “Let’s see…”

I resume my packing, picking up some final things left and reaching for the keys to my apartment.

“All good! You may go.”

“Perfect.”

The second voice reached for the window, “Good evening.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Looking good as always Mr. Gauss”

Once I had everything I left for my own apartment. When I reach the elevator, I saw that Francis was holding the door.

“Oh, thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” he said, “Izaack is also coming so I thought I might wait for both.”

I joined in and backed up against the wall, standing next to him.

“Our prettiest doorman is joining us today, its always a pleasure walking with you” Izaack mentioned as the door shuts, “Did you think about my proposal?”

I sighed for what seems like the thousandth time today. “I am not interested in going on a date with you, thanks.”

“Oh, come on, (Y/N).” He insisted. “It’s going to be fun, I promise. And I’m not just talking about dinner, you know?”

He stepped closer to me. Suddenly, I felt slightly trapped in that elevator. I tried to move further back, but I was already up against the wall. Isaack started to raise his hand to grab me by the chin and possibly bring me even closer to him. However, it didn't come to that. A body came between me and the raised hand.

“Geez, Francis, relax” Isaack chuckled. “I was just messing arround.”

The doors to the elevator opened on the second floor. Isaack was walking out into the corridor, but looked back before the doors closed again.

“You sure can be scary when you’re angry Mosses” He gave that characteristic smile of his. “See you tomorrow.”

The doors closed and Francis moved out of the way.

“Thank you” I whispered to him.

“Hm.” He raised his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Listen, if he ever bothers you again liked that, let me know, ok?”

“Oh, don’t worry, Francis” I said while massaging the back of my neck “He's infuriating, that’s true, and persistent, but I can deal it him.”

The elevator reached the third floor.

“I mean it.” He said while leaving to his apartment. “I… I do worry about you.”

I was about to put the key in the door when I suddenly stopped and looked at him. He stared at me with his tired but expectant eyes.

"I didn't know..." An embarrassed but broad smile appeared on my face "Thank you, Francis, I care about you too, a lot."

He nodded and gave a small smile, turning and heading for his apartment. 

After all, there might be something more between us than I thought.

[dirtyvulture]

Natasha Romanoff x GP!Beefy!Superpowered!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 4408

Requested by 🍬 anon: I'm back indeed😌and I have a request to make, could you write R adopting a superdog and surprising Nat with it? Like the dog somehow saves R and they have no choice but to keep them and take care of it😌

*slides $20 under the table* could the dog be a corgi who is an absolute menace to all the avengers?

-🍬

AN: Corgis are very special to me, so of course I will write this. 🥺Also, I threw in a smut scene, because this is not a Dirty Vulture fic without it.

No pronouns used.

“I still don’t really know what the point of me being in one of these is,” you say, rapping your knuckles on the metal wall of the van currently transporting you and your team to the apartment complex you’ve been sent to overturn. SHIELD had spent the last three months scoping out HYDRA activities from the entire building and they now had enough intel to send in the strike team: you, Natasha, Steve, and Clint.  

“Because we go in together,” Steve says, the ever optimistic leader of the pack. 

“Right.” You nod, cracking your knuckles through the padding of your gloves, a nervous habit you have before any mission. While this one was relatively simple (and you got to do it with Natasha, which for the longest time had been strictly forbidden by Fury after what happened in Budapest), you were still aware of the risks and dangers that came with the job.

Natasha’s hand rests lightly on your thigh and you look at her. She smiles softly at you, not saying anything, but you know exactly what she’s trying to communicate. 

Both of you will be okay.

You put your hand over hers and squeeze it. The van finally comes to a stop and the four of you pile out, standing on the empty, dark street. It’s well past midnight so there are few cars or people out. This kind of peace is rare in New York, but you’re also in one of the rougher neighborhoods, where people try to honor curfew for their own safety.

“Everyone ready?” Steve asks, strapping his shield to his arm.

“Hold on,” Natasha says, stepping up to you and cupping her hand around the back of your neck to pull you down to her level, kissing you with a passion that is usually reserved for the bedroom. She slips her tongue into your mouth as her hold on your neck tightens so you can’t pull away.

Steve and Clint stand there blinking at the two of you, Steve shocked by the public display of affection (as if he’s never witnessed it before), and Clint annoyed that this is the kind of thing he has to deal with more than he cares to.

Natasha finally pulls away and looks up at you, smiling when she sees a smudge of her lipstick on your lower lip. 

“Be safe, babe. I’ll see you in a bit,” you say, stepping back from Natasha. You give Clint a bracing nod, and Steve a glare that can be interpreted as “You better watch my girl or else.” You close your eyes and picture the apartment on floor 2 that SHIELD showed you a model of ahead of time. By now, you’ve perfected your technique, but it’s still not the most enjoyable experience. There is a pressure around your entire body, almost like you’re surrounded by a tide of water, crushing you from every angle until you can’t take the pressure anymore and you explode.

Literally.

You disappear from your spot on the street in a cloud of white smoke, feeling like your body is being pushed through a tube before you expand to your full size again in the same empty apartment you had pictured. 

No matter how many times you teleported, it never seemed to get easier.

You shake out your limbs, feeling blood flow to your extremities once more, then start lumbering around the apartment to find the front door. It’s not even locked and you step out into the poorly lit hall, your ears straining for any movement behind any of the other apartment doors. SHIELD had warned you that the building was filled with a mix of actual HYDRA agents and legitimate residents, but it went without saying that none of them would take too kindly to an Avenger letting themselves in out of nowhere. 

“We’re entering the ground level now,” Steve’s voice crackles in your earpiece. “Y/N, where are you?”

“Exactly where I’m supposed to be,” you hiss back, stationing yourself outside door 1227. All you knew was that HYDRA had a lab cooking behind the door and that it was probably armed to the teeth. 

“Good. Wait for our signal.”

“Copy, Cap.”

You start counting down the seconds in your head as the rest of your team takes the old-fashioned route up the stairs to join you. Just as you reach 100, the door suddenly swings open and your mouth drops open.

“Wait–” This hadn’t been part of the plan; whoever was inside wasn’t supposed to know that you were here. A man with a shaved head stands in the doorway, holding what you think is a walking cane in his hands.

“What the hell?” he says. 

“Delivery?” you try, despite being empty-handed. You have to dodge backwards when he swings the cane at you with such force, the handle buries itself an inch-deep into the floor. “Relax, dude!” you say while retreating frantically. You notice he isn’t calling for backup (something you might be able to use to your advantage) as he yanks his cane out of the floor and advances on you. You’re pushed back down the hall, where the only escape is the window. Technically, you could teleport instantly to any place you could picture, but you know it would be a cop-out to leave like that while you were on official work.

“Where did you come from?” the man snarls, jabbing his cane at you and you lift your arms to protect your face (Natasha wouldn’t be very happy if that got damaged tonight). The cane stings where it makes contact even through your padded forearms and the pain irritates you more than anything. When the man swings the cane around for another strike aimed at your ribs, you grab onto the shaft and yank it towards yourself. The man stumbles, losing his grip on the cane and you take full control of it.

Without putting too much thought into it, you hold the cane in both heads and bring it down towards your knee, cleanly snapping the plastic in half. You toss the broken halves to the side, raising your arms in preparation of a legitimate fistfight, but the man seems to have other plans.

With a shout of rage, he charges at you like you personally hurt him by breaking his cane. You barely have time to react with the short distance between you before he collides with you like a cannonball. You tip backwards, not strong enough to slow his momentum, your back slamming into the window. The glass gives easily under your combined weight and all the blood rushes to your head as you fall headfirst down two stories.

As everything seems to process in slow motion, you wrap your arms around the man’s torso, twisting your bodies with lightning speed boosted by your superhuman abilities, so that you’re on top of him. Even in the dull moonlight, you see his eyes widen in shock when he realizes you’re going to land on him. 

You brace yourself for impact nonetheless, your jaw rattling and head whiplashing from the sudden stop as the man’s back bounces on the pavement. He goes limp beneath you and you push yourself off of him, standing and checking for any damage to your limbs. Fortunately, he took the brunt of the fall, and your enhanced physique along with your armor kept you in mint condition.

You take in your surroundings, finding yourself in a narrow alley adjacent to the apartment complex. It smells like sewage and garbage, almost strong enough to cause you to clap your hand over your nose to muffle the invasive scents. You glance up to see the glinting shards of remaining glass in the window you both had fallen out of. This hadn’t been part of the plan, but you hope the others won’t mind your detour. 

“Y/N, was that you?” Clint’s voice suddenly rings through your earpiece.

“What?” 

“We heard breaking glass.”

“Yeah, I’ve got it under control,” you lie, scratching your head and looking down at where the HYDRA agent fell. Except he’s not there anymore. “Oh, no–”

A considerable force slams into your side and you find yourself face-down on the pavement in the next second. Your cheek scrapes the asphalt as you roll onto your back, raising your arms defensively as the man points a gun at your head.

“How did you–” You know this is no time for small talk, but you can’t help your curiosity.

“Hail Hydra,” he interrupts, as if this is enough justification for how he managed to survive a two-story fall with you using him as a landing pad. You close your eyes and tense yourself for being torn apart by a piece of lead, but it doesn’t come. Instead of the thunder of a gunshot, there is a ferocious growl that can’t have possibly come from a human, and suddenly the HYDRA agent is screaming and swatting at a black blur attached to his ankle. He drops his gun and you kick it out of his reach, scrambling to get up.

“Down, down!” he yells. You’re not sure what kind of animal has latched onto him, but it has an unusually long body and stubby little legs that end in white paws. The man tries shaking the animal off violently, swinging his own leg towards the brick wall and you leap into action. You grab onto his shoulders and shove him back. He loses his balance and hits his head hard on the wall, slumping instantly and collapsing like a sack of potatoes.

“I hope that takes care of you,” you mutter, a little hesitant that a solid blow to his head would knock him out so easily. 

The animal, which you’ve now deciphered is a corgi, releases the man’s ankle and bounds up to you, opening its mouth in a goofy smile.

“Hi, little guy,” you say, kneeling and offering an open palm. “Thanks for your help.” The corgi’s entire body trembles in excitement as you pat his head. “What are you doing out here by yourself?” The corgi barks, but you can’t speak dog. “Well…I guess you can come with me for now.” You have no idea what you’re going to do with him in the long-term, but you don’t have time to think about that right now. You need to get back with the rest of your team.

The corgi’s stumpy tail wags and he grins adoringly at you. You’ve hardly known him for a minute, and you would already do anything for him. 

“What should I call you?” you ask, and he barks again. “Hmm…” Your eyes wander to the fallen HYDRA agent, for the first time you notice the badge hanging around his neck. It reads “M. Jacob.” You look back at the vibrating corgi. “How about Jacob? Does that sound okay?”

Jacob bounces on his paws and barks again, seemingly in agreement.

“Excellent. Come on, boy.” You click your tongue and he immediately falls in step beside you. The two of you exit the alley and walk around the apartment building, just in time to see the front doors burst open and Steve, Clint, and Natasha stumble out, all of them panting.

“Nice of you to join us,” Steve says. “Who’s your friend?”

“Jacob,” you answer, offering no further explanation.

“Y/N.” Natasha walks up to you, reaching up to brush your face and you cringe away when she rubs a bruise you didn’t know you had on your cheekbone. “What happened?”

“I’m fine.” You look down at Jacob, who stares at Natasha warily. “It’s okay, Jacob. She’s on our side.”

Jacob steps forward and sits down by Natasha’s feet, looking up at her expectantly for some attention. 

“And where exactly did you find him?” Natasha does not bend down to pet him. 

“He saved me back in the alley.”

“Why were you in the alley?”

“I…Uh…” You feel Steve and Clint’s judgmental eyes on you. You hadn’t done your part in the mission; in fact, the only thing you had done was almost gotten yourself killed and had now found possession of a stray dog. “I got a little distracted.”

“Because you saw the dog?” Clint asks, knowing your affinity for animals.

“No, it was a HYDRA agent actually,” you defend, frustrated.

“Sure, sure,” Clint says, but you can tell he’s not convinced.

“I was–” you start.

“Let’s get out of here,” Steve interrupts. “We got what we came here for anyway and we can debrief at the Tower.” The four of you (five including Jacob) start walking down the street towards the van again.

Natasha hangs back to walk alongside you, but she doesn’t reach for your hand the way she normally does. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, pausing outside the van as Steve and Clint climb into the back first. Jacob tries to join them, but the bumper is too high for him to reach, so his short back legs swing comically as he tries to heave his body up. You chuckle and bend down to scoop him up. He looks at you gratefully then scurries over to Clint, begging for attention from the archer.

“We can’t keep the dog, Y/N,” Natasha says, as you wait for her to get into the van first.

“Why not?”

“We have no idea where he came from. He could be one of HYDRA’s pets, or worse, an experiment by them.”

“He’s harmless, Nat,” you assure, and she sighs. Your willingness to trust had always been a point of contention in your relationship: Natasha always approached new situations, people, and things with a supremely guarded nature, while you practically threw all care to the wind if there was food or an animal involved. 

“How can you be so sure?” she asks.

You shrug. “I just know.”

“That’s not good enough, Y/N.”

“Please, Nat?” You give her your best puppy eyes (although Jacob could have easily beat you). “I’ll have Bruce run some tests to make sure Jacob’s not a HYDRA spy in disguise.”

Natasha stares at you, arms crossed over her chest. Her front zipper is drawn down just enough to reveal her cleavage, which is amplified when arms press her breasts up. You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring until she clears her throat and you hastily make eye contact with her. She smirks and you’re slightly annoyed at the distraction.

“So, can we keep the dog?” you ask, trying to remember the topic of conversation. 

“Fine. But you owe me later.” 

You already know exactly what that will entail, and you can’t remember the last time you had a night this successful. “Yay, thanks babe!” You peck her cheek quickly before she has a chance to tease you further and climb into the van to give your new friend all your attention. Jacob’s entire butt wiggles as you sit on the bench opposite Steve and Clint. He paws at your calf to beg to be carried into your lap and you cuddle him against your chest, enjoying the warmth of his fur. “You’re a good boy, Jacob. You’re gonna love your new home.”

***********************************************************************

Even though Jacob has four perfectly functional (albeit short) legs, you insist on carrying him all the way inside the Tower. Clint wakes up Bruce with a 2 a.m. phone call to bring him down to the lab, where he runs a few tests that Jacob seems to pass all of. He ties a loose blue rope around Jacob’s neck to act as a collar for now, and Steve dismisses everyone back to their quarters once Bruce declares Jacob safe to stay in the Tower, and you go upstairs with Natasha. 

“I still don’t know if this is a good idea,” she says.

“He’s harmless and super cute, Nat. Aren’t those the only two reasons you’re dating me anyway?” you add in jest.

“There’s a few other reasons.” Her hand comes down and squeezes your butt. She winks at you. “You should probably leave Jacob with Yelena and Kate so we can have some interrupted alone time.”

“I hope they’re awake.”

“Yelena never sleeps until we come back from a mission.”

“Okay.” You practically rush down the hall, Jacob bouncing in your arms and he glares at you with big brown eyes. Yelena’s door is open just as Natasha predicted, and you can hear her and Kate talking inside. “Um, hi, guys,” you say, entering her room unannounced and setting your new corgi on the floor. Jacob toddles forward, observing the two women with some uncertainty. 

Yelena and Kate are sitting with their backs propped up against the footer of Yelena’s bed, surrounded by a sea of colorful comic books they’d been discussing. 

“We’re back, and this is Jacob. We found him at the HYDRA apartment complex on our mission,” you rush to explain, feeling your pants embarrassingly begin to tighten at the thought of your girlfriend sprawled out on your bed and waiting for you. You could never really figure out why she was so horny after missions; you were convinced it was the way you looked in your suit. “Can he stay overnight with you two? Natasha and I…have some things to do.”

Neither Yelena nor Kate have time to ask any questions or roll their eyes in disgust as you hurry back to your bedroom and slam the door shut. 

Jacob stands there, looking almost concerned to be left alone by the only person he trusts so far. 

“Jacob!” Kate calls, pushing aside some of the comic books and holding a hand out for the black corgi to sniff. “Hi, buddy. I’m Kate and this is Yelena.” She makes the introduction as if the dog can comprehend their names. Jacob licks her hand and pads forward to bump her arm. “Yelena also has a dog called Fanny. I think she’ll like you, you’re very cute.” Jacob’s stump of a tail wags happily as Kate scratches behind his pointy ears.

“Speaking of, where is Fanny?” Yelena asks, suddenly reminded of her own dog’s absence. 

“She wandered off earlier, I think. She’ll be back soon.”

“Hopefully she doesn’t get too jealous of him,” Yelena says.

“Because Jacob’s cuter than her?” Kate asks. 

Yelena narrows her eyes at her. “You did not just say that. Do not let Fanny hear you say that or she will have you for breakfast.”

“No, she won’t, because you’ll protect me, right? Right, Yelena?” Kate says, looking at her friend in concern.

Yelena shakes her head. “I will make no promises, Kate Bishop. Tread very carefully.”

***********************************************************************

“Oh, fuck, baby. Right there,” Natasha gasps, her fists clenching in the sheets as your hips slap against her butt with every thrust. You drive forward with barely restrained strength, feeling the whole bed move and the frame bump against the wall. The heat around your cock is tight and silky, Natasha clenching around you rhythmically as you pound into her.

“You’re taking me so well,” you say, squeezing her hips in time with your thrusts. “Such a good girl for me.”

Natasha keens at the praise, dropping her face down into the pillow. You tilt your hips to adjust your angle, the ridges of her pussy dragging against your cockhead in such a way that you almost lose control. And Natasha almost does too, pushing back so you can fill her deeper and moaning in pleasure. 

“I’m almost there,” she warns, but you’re barely able to hear her over your own grunts. Wetness gushes around you suddenly, but you don’t stop your relentless pace until Natasha is whimpering and begging you to pull out. You’re careful to collapse next to her so you don’t crush her, rolling onto your back and your still-hard cock bobs and glistens with Natasha’s cum.

“You didn’t finish?” Natasha asks when she comes down from her high. You shake your head, your thighs clenching when she suddenly wraps her hand around your cock. “Take me again,” she insists, rolling onto her side facing away from you. Your muscular arms slink around her waist, pulling her closer to you and your cock slips easily into her again. This time, you are much more gentle with your thrusts, almost lazy as your exhaustion from the earlier mission finally begins to show itself.

You bury your face into the crook of her neck, inhaling the vanilla scent from her shampoo. Natasha interlaces one of her hands with yours where you hold her just below her bellybutton, sighing in content at being wrapped up in your arms and filled at the same time. She can feel your abs flexing against her back as you try to maintain your pace, your breath hot on her neck as you near your release.

“Nat, can I–” you ask, and Natasha loves how you still ask for her permission before finishing inside her.

“Don’t let any drop go to waste,” she responds as you press your hips against the back of hers, cum spilling out of your cock in short, hard bursts. 

“Thank you, baby,” you murmur, your sweaty forehead nuzzling her neck. Natasha smiles.

***********************************************************************

Jacob wanders around Yelena’s room, sniffing in every nook and cranny and even walking all over Fanny’s bed. The girls watch him in amusement despite their growing exhaust at the early hour. 

“You’ll fit right in here, Jacob,” Kate says to Jacob, petting his back as he waddles by. “I’m not sure Tony will be happy to see another animal, though. He might start charging us fees.” She keeps her own dog, Lucky, at her apartment a few blocks down the street, but she visits the Tower so often that she might as well move over permanently. 

“If he does not let Jacob stay, I will cut his head off,” Yelena growls.

“Or, you can all just move in with me!” Kate says brightly, but Yelena doesn’t respond. Kate looks at Yelena and sees that she’s staring at the doorway, where Fanny has suddenly appeared. Fanny holds intense eye contact with the corgi perched on Yelena’s lap and for a few seconds, neither dog makes a move and everyone holds their breath.

With a vibrating growl that shakes her whole body, Fanny charges and Jacob leaps off Yelena’s lap to meet her, despite being barely a third of her size. Yelena lunges after Jacob, trying to wrap her body protectively around the small corgi, but he slips right through her arms and barks viciously at Fanny.

“Stop them!” she cries as Kate jumps into the fray, slipping her fingers under Jacob’s collar and pulling him back until he almost chokes. Yelena throws herself between the two dogs, hoping to break their eye contact and calm them down. Fanny snarls and snaps at Yelena, behavior Yelena has never before witnessed in her.

While Yelena yells at Fanny to back off, Kate struggles for her life to hold Jacob back. Despite the corgi’s diminutive size, he displays an extraordinary, almost supernatural, level of strength. In fact, it feels like her fingers are being crushed where they are wedged inside his collar, and upon closer inspection, Kate swears the corgi’s neck is thickening to the point where there is barely a millimeter of space left between her fingers and his fur.

“Yelena, are you seeing this?” she screeches, now trying to free her hand, but is only successful when the thin fabric snaps. Kate falls back, and now it is evident that Jacob is growing. Although he maintains the same long-backed, short-legged proportions, he is distinctly larger than Fanny now.

“Oh, God, what is happening?” Yelena says, crawling back from the giant corgi and shielding Fanny. Jacob barks, sounding deeper than before. He practically fills the room, the tops of his pointy ears brushing the ceiling and Kate screams in sheer fear as she presses herself against the wall to avoid being crushed on the floor. 

“Natasha! Y/N!” Yelena screams. “Get over here now!”

“Please!” Kate begs, before getting a mouthful of Jacob’s fur and coughing. Hopefully you and Natasha weren’t too busy to hear them…

***********************************************************************

“Natasha! Y/N!” 

You sit up instantly when you hear Yelena screaming both of your names, finally pulling out of Natasha and she whines at the loss of your cock, but doesn’t protest. She shares the same concerned expression as you as you jump out of bed, barely remembering to throw on a shirt and shorts before running down the hall. Natasha is right on your heels, wrapped in a blanket, and you get to Yelena’s room first.

Natasha’s sister is closest to the doorway, her body draped over Fanny. Kate is pressed up against the wall, her chest heaving like she’s run a marathon with something blue in her hands. Jacob is sitting in the center of the room, his ears pinned back against his head.

“What’s going on?” you gasp.

Yelena turns to you. “Did you…Did you see that?” she asks.

“See what?” Natasha crowds in from behind you.

“Your dog!” Kate says.

“Jacob, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” You pat your thigh and the corgi comes running over, brushing his head against your leg, his tail wagging a little bit now. 

“Why are you asking him if he’s okay? That’s what you should be asking us,” Yelena growls.

“Your dog almost suffocated us all in here!” Kate bursts out. “He grew to the size of the room!”

“Grew? He looks fine.” You pick up the corgi for closer inspection, his paws dangling as you shift him at different angles to check for any injuries. “What are you guys talking about?”

“He grew,” Kate insists. “Look, he even broke out of his collar!” She shows you that the fabric in her hand is actually Jacob’s collar.

You shrug and put Jacob back on the floor. “That flimsy thing Banner put on him? It could have snapped just by grabbing onto it.”

“You cannot keep that dog, Y/N,” Yelena says. “He’s some kind of monster!”

“Don’t say that about Jacob!” you defend. “If you didn’t want to watch him again, you could’ve just said that.” You look down at the corgi, unable to believe your friends would be so rude to him. “Come on, Jacob. Let’s go back to our room.” And you and Natasha stroll back down the hall with your new pet, completely oblivious to the danger he could be.

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

AN: Click here for Part 2!

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[jazzyoranges]

Splitting Headache

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: Tara is there when you have a shitty day at work

Words: 1.0k

A/n: i didn’t spell check or anything so sorry if there’s mistakes 😇 also kinda inspired by a reddit story i saw on tiktok

Warnings(?): fluff, annoying customers

You’ve had a long fucking day at work. Your day was already bad when you woke up. There was a throbbing pain right in the middle for your forehead, but alas, the world doesn’t stop spinning for a dumb headache. Unfortunately, your headache only worsened when you somehow slipped on a chew toy in the kitchen of your apartment

But the world doesn’t stop spinning for a dumb headache or a bruise on your ass. You worked as a barista at a pretty busy coffee shop. There was always a constant stream of people ordering pastries, drinks, and sandwiches. At least you got paid a little more than average, right?

Luckily the car ride to the shop wasn’t too bad. Until you almost crashed into some dumbass driver that doesn’t know how to drive. A plethora of curses escaped your lips as you angrily beeped at the guy that almost made a dent in your car — your precious baby

But the world doesn’t stop spinning for a dumb headache, a bruise on your ass, or idiot drivers. You’re only a few minutes late so you quickly put on your apron and start making some drinks. The thing you hate most about your job isn’t the customers, but the overly complex and sugary coffees. Like, who the fuck is ordering a liquified birthday cake coffee at eight in the morning? The loud machine’s definitely didn’t make your headache better

But the world doesn’t stop spinning for a dumb headache, a bruise on your ass, idiot drivers, or loud noises. Thankfully your job was pretty simple. Well, to you it was a pain in the ass, but an easy pain in the ass. Take the order, make the drink, spell the name wrong, and serve. Sounds pretty easy, but there just so happens to be a certain time where the worst customers come in. Nine in the morning. At nine in the morning, all of the angry moms and the mean business men come in to have their morning coffee

And every single morning you have to deal with them

Every.

Single.

Morning.

Today was absolutely no different

“I asked for two pumps of vanilla! You only put one!”

“No, that gift card isn’t used up!”

“I get to cut the line. I’m more important than anyone else here!”

But the world doesn’t stop spinning for a dumb headache, a bruise on your ass, idiot drivers, loud noises, or annoying customers. Really, the only thing that was getting you through this day was your girlfriend. Your amazing, beautiful, wonderful, kind, beau-

“This is disgusting! You must be new, this is not the matcha coffee I ordered!” A woman snaps you out of your thoughts and you have to put on your customer-service voice

“Actually, i’ve been working here for about six months. What seems to be the issue?”

“Are you trying to smart-mouth me, young lady?”

“Not at all, ma’am.”

“Yeah the hell you are!” The lady was practically screaming at you, and you saw some phones recording your situation. At least you’d have proof of verbal harassment if you decided to punch her

“Please, ma’am, I’ll make it for you again.”

“No way! You’ve ruined my morning!” And with that, the woman splashes her drink in your face before you can react. Your manager catches wind of the situation, but he gets there too late. You’re already dripping green when he arrives. You storm off into the break room with a scowl on your face

But the world doesn’t stop spinning for a dumb headache, a bruise on your ass, idiot drivers, loud noises, annoying customers, or women that throw matcha coffee in your face. Thankfully your manager is nice and kind enough to know the customer isn’t always right. He offers you the day off, and you happily accept. You wash up before leaving and earn a few “I’m sorry she did that”’s and “She was in the wrong”’s, which makes you feel a little better knowing the other customers were on your side

The entire situation just made your head throb even harder

Originally you were going to go back home to take a nap, but you decide to visit the only reason you kept going today. You’re amazing, beautiful, wonderful, kind, girlfriend Tara. All you wanted to do was spend the rest of the day in her arms and kiss until your lips were swollen. Every sapphic woman’s dream, really

You pull into the garage of Tara’s apartment complex, and practically sprint to her room. One minute flat, a new record. Softly knocking on the door as to not scare her, you patiently waited to hear her footsteps check the peephole

“Baby?” Your girlfriend says behind the door before opening it. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

You choose to not elaborate, and pull her into a shoulder crushing hug

“What’s with the affection? Tell me what’s wrong, love”

“Bad day. Cuddle?” You mumble into her shoulder, and she laughs while shutting the door

“Of course.” Tara pulls your face to hers, giving you a deep kiss before taking you to her room. You can’t your giddy smile and it makes the younger Carpenter happy

There are random shirts and shorts from all the times you’ve spent over, and you quickly change before jumping into Tara’s arms. Burying your head into your girlfriend’s chest, you sigh at her smell. She’s exactly what home smells like to you

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong, baby?”

“Tired.” You mumble

“It’s only two in the afternoon my love”

“Just want you...” You mumble again in one breath, making Tara laugh

She had to be magic. Your worries washed away, and simply being with her made you feel better. Tara ran her hands through your hair, massaging your head. Simultaneously, your headache was nearly gone. Shitty days, mediocre days, good days, you knew your girlfriend would be there to pick you up. Maybe you wouldn’t mind if the world stopped spinning for Tara Carpenter

—

Bonus:

“Baby, why do you smell like matcha?”

“Long story.”

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

Heyyy I absolutely love your work!! Could I request a drabble of Bucky being completely smitten with the reader or a headcanon when the reader is sick??? Merci beaucoup mademoiselle🫶💖

Two Floors

PAIRINGS: 40's!James "Bucky" Barnes x Reader

WARNINGS: FLUFF, angst (if you squint), mentions of not haveing enough money

WORD COUNT: 1,759 (got carried away lol)

*not proof-read*

ENJOY!

“Oh c’mon doll, can’t leave a poor man hangin’,” he says as he runs to catch up with you. You roll your eyes as he comes to walk along side you.

“Buchanan, I told you to go annoy Rogers instead. I have much more important things to do,” you bite in his direction as you make your way through the streets of Brooklyn.

Graduating high school, a month ago with your best friends, Bucky and Steve, was something your dreamed of when you met the two boys the first time your moved into the old apartment complex.

Since then, the three of you have become inseparable.

But something eats away at your heart, a painful piece of emotion that just slowly chews away at your peace.

“You got a job already?” Bucky asks as he slides his hands into his pockets. You adjust the strap of your purse on your shoulder and nod your head, “just a small secretary job at the library. Enough to earn something until I finally decided what I wanna do with my life.”

Bucky laughs and lets out a low whistle, “still that ‘always need to know whay my future is’ type o’ girl, yeah?” You shake your head and slap his arm, “quit it, Buchanan. Or I’m telling Winnie your being an ass.”

Bucky rubs his arm, a little sore from your slap. “My ma trusts you more than the Lord himself,” Bucky comments, the loosely swinging his arm over your shoulder.

You doesn’t push it away.

“That’s because I don’t go bring random girls back home and make them scream my name in the middle of the night,” you smirk as you reveal you know of his nightly activities.

Bucky stops, forcing her stop. The look on his face is horrific and you snort and slap his chest at his reaction. “How’d you-,” he starts, but you continue to laugh.

“Becca tells me everything, Buchanan,” you wink at him before you start walking again. He breaks out of his reverie and jogs to catch up with you, “doll, it ain’t like that.”

You laugh and shake your head, “do I look like I care who you mess around with, Buchanan?” He pauses and shakes his head, it looks like to you he’s a bit upset, “no, you don’t”

You were about to say something else, but something caught your eye.

You stop and gasp as you walk towards the window of the shop.

The great glass pane with the large painted letters on it does not stop you from viewing the contents inside of the store.

The dainty little locket sits at the back of the display, hiding behind all the extravagant jewels. You know that the owner would’ve expected people to look at the jewels.

But the locket, it hangs lovingly from a thin gold chain. The oval case rests just in between the collarbone.

You think it’s the most beautiful piece you’ve ever seen.

Bucky see’s you view the locket and how in awe you are in as you frame a picture of it in your mind.

“Why don’t you get it,” Bucky suggests, nodding at the piece of jewellry. You let out a sad laugh, “because it costs more than our parents’ rent combined, Buchanan.”

You bite your lip while still looking at the necklace, “a girl could dream.”

You sigh and pull away, “let’s go.”

------- The Rogers’, the Barnes’ and your parents all stand in front of you as they sing ‘Happy Birthday’ for the eighteenth time in your life.

After they finish the song, out of key, you drag the simple knife down the cake, and they start cheering.

Your mother cuts up slices and hands it to everyone, you get up from the dining table and smooth out the wrinkles of the emerald green cotton dress your mother sewed for you.

The dad’s gather as they converse about the lastest sports, the mom’s are in the kitchen laughing as the cook dinner. Steve, Bucky, Rebecca and you sit in the living room.

You go against the opinions of Steve’s and Bucky’s as they complain about how high school was the worst time of their life.

“Look guys, you can’t say that,” you chastise them softly, “Becca, you’re in your junior year. It’s one of the best times you’ll ever experience.”

Becca nods, as Steve shakes his head to Bucky and Bucky mouths a ‘No’ in Becca’s direction.

“Buchanan,” you throw the couch pillow at him.

-------

“Hey, can I come in?” Bucky knocks on the window of your bedroom.

The party was over, and you’re parents went out to have a quick little dinner. They were upset because they didn’t want to leave you on your special day, but you knew how hard they’ve been working, and they didn’t have time to themselves. So you pushed them out the door and yelled a ‘have a great time’.

Bucky crouches on metal ridges that is your fire escape, waiting for your permission to enter your room.

You jump out of bed and raise your window a bit higher so he can fit in. “Are you out of your mind, Buchanan?” You whisper-yell at him.

He shrugs, “what? I live two floors above your doll, nothing to be worried about.” The wink he throws you way, makes you roll your eyes.

But there’s a place in your heart where it instantly becomes warm.

Because, even if Bucky was a player at times, he still caught your heart.

You did roll your eyes at his antics. But your smile was true from how playful he is.

You’d say ‘Quit it, Buchanan’, but in your mind you’d always whisper a ‘Don’t ever stop’.

You knew you were falling for Bucky, but you always forced those feelings down.

Because you knew, he won’t feel the same.

“What needed my attention so badly, that you had climb down to get here,” you cross your arms and narrow you’re eyes at him.

He smirks and sits on your bed, “well, I haven’t given you my present yet.”

You freeze.

You’re also confused.

“What? Of course you did, your family gifted me the Aesop Fable set,” you say as you walk to stand in front of him.

You vividly remember getting the gift, because it was something you have been telling Becca about for so long. And you squealed when you opened their present

But Bucky shakes his head, “no doll. They gave you, their gift. I haven’t given you mine.”

You pause, and you swear your heart starts beating a little faster.

“What”? You whisper, because you know you voice will crack if you spoke louder.

He pats the space next to him, “sit down, doll.”

You gulp and go sit down next to him, you obediently place you hands on your thighs as you wait for the next part.

Bucky gives a smile. But it’s different, you have never seen this look on Bucky before. The softness of his eyes, the way his cheeks are slightly flushed, the little crinkles at the corners of his lips as he maintains that smile.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny box.

The box looked like it was originally used to store a single chocolate ball, but the lettering on it worn out and the edges are a bit jagged.

You look at bucky with confusion, “what is thi-.”

He interrupts you, “just open it f’me, doll.”

And you do.

“Bucky, no.”

The locket stares back up at you, the gold glints under the light of your room.

“You-you can’t be serious, thi-this has to be a joke,” you turn to face him with tears lining your eyes. You heart has never beaten so fast in your entire life.

Bucky’s grin widens and nods, “got it this morning, just for you.” He says your name so softly that you think it might break if he said it to harshly.

You wrap your arms around his neck and push your head against his shoulder as you whisper your million ‘thank you’s’.

Bucky chuckles and rubs your back, “anything for you, doll.”

“Why, why me? Why this?” you shake your head against him.

“Because I gotta tell the girl, who lives two floors below me, that I’m in love with her,” Bucky pulls back and cups the back of your neck.

You gasp softly and furrow your brows at him, your shock so evident on your face.

“Gotta tell her that I’ve been after her since the day she moved into this building,” Bucky leans in and you follow.

How have you been so daft to not see this?

You close your eyes and stop until you’re a hair width’s away from Bucky’s lips.

“Gotta tell her how much I’ve been dreamin’ about her, and how she’s the only thing on my mind,” Bucky whispers, and you feel his breath hits your lips.

He softly places his lips on yours, and you move your hands to cup his face. You both move your lips in tandem to the other, as you try to feel more of one another.

He pulls away breathlessly and you follow suit.

“I’ve been meaning to do that for a long time, doll,” he chuckles and leans in to place soft kisses on your jaw.

You giggle and whisper a ‘me too’.

Bucky takes the locket from your hands and starts to put it on for you.

He soon as he done, he leans back and sees how beautifully the necklace sits just above the dip of your collarbone.

“Open it up,” he nods at the locket. You smile and follow his orders, you gasp as you see a picture of your seventeenth birthday, with the Rogers’ and Barnes’, at Coney Island. And the other side had a picture of you and Bucky at Prom.

You didn’t have a date, well you did but he stood you up. So Bucky stepped in and became your man for the night.

You look up at him and have no words to say.

“I-,” you start but can’t finish your sentence.

“I know, doll. I know,” he smiles. “Been saving those tiny pictures for a while, but it was worth it,” he leans in and presses his forehead against yours.

You close your eyes and relish this feeling that hangs in the air.

The feeling that you have been wanting to feel for so long now, it feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

“Bucky?” you whisper.

“Hmm, doll,” he whispers back.

“I love you.”

“I love you, doll.”

💌💌💌

OMG! MY FIRST EVER ANON!!

HELLO NONNIE!!!

Love this ask, I've always had this idea in mind, but never really knew how to write it.

I guess this is just a messy way of writing it lol.

I hope this is what you were looking for nonnie!!!

Lemme know what you lovelies think!!

Till' then,

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but how has your opinion changed on Steven Universe now than when it first aired? Like I have fond memories of watching the show while it was airing but now I realize that it had a lot of problems that I feel like a lot of fans either flat out ignore or bend over backwards to make sure their rose tinted glasses stay on.

... okay, fair question. Let's talk about this.

I'll try not to wax poetic too long, but there are a lot of things to be said here.

First and foremost - how has my opinion changed since the show has ended?

Simply put - it hasn't.

When I started watching Steven Universe over 7 years ago, I didn't have much knowledge of it. I sat down, saw a few of episodes and went 'well, this is a silly show for kids with a goofy but loveable protagonist... but it seems like it's also incredibly charming with its delivery and has some nice, more complex themes about loss and healing and grief throughout.'

And if you ask me what Steven Universe is now... I would probably say that exact same thing.

Am I wearing rose tinted lenses? Interesting question.

What ARE 'rose tinted lenses' in this context anyway?

What do these lenses represent? What do they obscure?

Since you didn't go into specifics, I can only assume what you're referring to when you say that many fans ignore the show's problems.

There have been many discussions surrounding various aspects of the show and how it might be read as 'problematic' (ahhh how I've come to despise that word.... without context, it has all the descriptive power of the word 'icky' - none of the critical details and all of the emotional punch of scrunching up your face like a cat that just sniffed a lemon...)

Is this about something as simple as the 'SU doesn't have a consistent size for its characters' debate?

Because that has been gone back to, over and over again, and proven to be a point of opinion. SU favored allowing storyboarders to show off their personal flourish, and even though Peridot was 30% hair in that one episode, it did not overall take away from the plotline being told, which was their goal. If you wanted to watch a show with consistent styling throughout, you can always watch a 3D modeled show, but keeping that up was simply never one of SU's main pillars. And I feel like it didn't have to be.

Is this about something more complex such as the way Rose was presented?

...and how her arc was shown backwards instead of forwards - showing first the person she became in the end, and afterwards revealing all the growth she had to have to get there?

That was on purpose! And I don't think this is a problem. It's a feature, not a bug. Rose was never meant to be an ideal character - she was meant to be complicated and messy, and I think the fact that the fandom is so split in their opinions of her shows that the Crewniverse pulled that off really well!

She fucked over Bismuth! She forced Pearl to be silent! Those are both parts of her character arc that were never resolved because she died before she could resolve it - that's BY DESIGN. Sometimes, you just do something absolutely stupid and cruel, and you cannot go back to fix it.

Is this about the Diamonds? The fact that they were not put in space jail, after being put on trial for space crimes, and then publicly executed for space eco-genocide?

Here's the thing - most people I know who watched and loved SU are fully aware of that. But simply put - Steven Universe was not a story about Revenge.

Steven Universe was a story about love. A story about family. A story about truth, and lies, and hurt, and healing. About how sometimes healing doesn't happen. And how sometimes it will, but you won't be around to see it.

But it's not a story that can be all things for all people.

That is the thesis of my reply: It is a story.

It is not a manifesto. It is not a bible. It is not a Complete Truth.

It is a single story. Made by a group of very talented people, who cared about these characters, who did their best. They made a funny, emotional, well-drawn and complex cartoon show about the things THEY personally wanted to tell stories about.

Does it answer all questions the way everyone wants them answered? No. That's impossible.

Everyone wants a different story. Everyone wants a different solution, a different resolution. A different ending.

Steven Universe is one story. It cannot satisfy all people.

So when you ask me 'has your opinion of Steven Universe changed'? The answer is 'no'.

I went in, expecting to see a story. I saw a lot of what I liked! I saw some parts which I thought were interesting. I saw some parts which, yes, I disagreed with a little.

But overall, it's a good story. And that's what I expected, and that's what I got, which means I'm pretty satisfied. I love that story.

I feel like recently, there's this expectation of media, to be Everything For All People. And it's a bit unrealistic. No one call tell the perfect story. We are all simply telling the stories we want to tell. And people will vibe with that, more or less.

A single story, made by a small group of people, will never be that for you. There will never be an Unproblematic Cartoon that you watch that will be devoid of things you disagree with.

Being critical of media doesn't mean 'Criticize the FUCK outta that media, and the one with the least criticisms is the best one'.

Critical thinking is about evaluating things critically - that means being critical of YOURSELF. Being critical of your OWN reactions. Asking 'why did I like this?' and 'why did I dislike this?'. Asking 'this doesn't mesh with me, but who WOULD it mesh with? It isn't for me, but who is it for? Who would it hurt, but also who would it help?'

Some people HATED how SU: Future ended. They beat their fists on the wall and cried about how Steven was leaving his family behind, and how THEY could never imagine doing something like that, and how he was running away from his problems just like Rose had.

Me? I loved it. I think it was the right choice, and I COULD imagine it and thought it was in character. I thought he needed to be his own person, instead of shouldering everyone else's responsibilities for once. Was one of us more right than the other? Maybe not? Maybe that was the whole point?

Loving things is not about putting on rose colored glasses. Sometimes, choosing to love something with flaws is an act of rebellion. It's about knowing you have differences, but understanding that there is value in the things you DO agree on, and knowing you can consume that.

Healthy consumption of media does not mean throwing the whole cartoon away as soon as you notice something is wrong with it, like a bruise on an apple.

Healthy consumption of media involves critical thinking AND feeding yourself. Acknowledging you may disagree with parts of it, but not starving yourself just because your apples all have small imperfections.

Eat, for fuck's sake. Feed yourself. You'll feel better.

Thassit.

[yawneneteyam]

ALL THINGS CONNECTED | j. flatters chapter one — what's the dream?

summary: growing up on the set of avatar: the way of water was a dream. your friends had become your family, all except for one. jamie was the one person you always found yourself drawn to, in ways more complex than the title of 'best friends' [1.7k].

pairing: fem!reader x jamie flatters

notes: based on jamie flatters documentary: all things connected. co-stars/friends to lovers. inspired by @cacapeepee. minor mentions of anxiety, foetus jamie.

masterlist ⎸ chapter two

2016.

THEY MUST HAVE LIKED you right? otherwise you wouldn't be back here again, for a chemistry test no other. yeah.. if they didn't like your audition, you wouldn't be sitting here again. yeah, that was it.

the air had gotten stale while you sat in the green room of some office building, on a floor number way too high with windows bigger than they needed to be.

it was your third time being here. your initial reading, the callback and now a chemistry test.

your agent hadn't given you much more information other than that. you knew you would be meeting the boy that could be playing your love interest, and that was intimidating to any fifteen year old. this was the first time you had ever been called in for a chemistry test for any project, you knew it was because it was a huge franchise, but it didn't make it any less daunting; if anything, it only made you feel worse.

you knew you couldn't sit there alone for too much longer before your anxious thoughts consumed you. everything was feeling wrong, your hair too tight and the plastic chair too uncomfortable. it was just nerves, but they had you on the cusp of trembling in your seat. the feeling of waiting was becoming overwhelming and if you weren't out of this room, you were sure you would-

"y/n l/n?" oh thank god.

you stood up quicker than you wanted to, almost tripping yourself in the process. with a mumbled 'hi', you were told to come into the audition room. when the casting assistant turned away you had to restrain yourself from screaming at yourself. what a fucking day.

you tried to brush it off and take a deep breath before you actually entered the room, your heartbeat was still beating at the same quickens pace regardless.

"hi y/n" your eyes scanned the panel before landing on the man who was speaking to you. james cameron sat at a small table across from where you were standing on your mark, with four other people, all casting directors and assistants.

"hi," faking your confidence was better than showing you didn't have any, "nice to meet you all," you tried to ignore the fact that the man who was responsible for making 'titanic' was a few metres away from you, but it was getting increasingly hard when he was watching your every move.

he hadn't been at your other auditions. trying to take this as another good sign, you swallowed the nerves bubbling in your chest.

"alright," another woman spoke up, "we're just gonna run through your sides from your last audition, and then we'll get started with the chemistry read. sound good?"

you nodded without speaking, silently thanking your agent for telling you to go over your old lines from your first two auditions. she always was right, you just would never tell her.

"okay," james quickly pulled a few pieces of paper from the pile in front of him before looking back up at you, "whenever you're ready,"

you took a few seconds, looking at the ground before starting your scene.

"where are you going?" i asked panicked, my breaths heavy.

one of the casting assistants read the lines in reply, not giving you anything to work with. "no where you need to worry about". the point of reading sides is to see how you work with a monotone scene-partner. they want to see what you can give on your own.

"I know you're going to see them," you reach your arm out, "norm," grabbing nothing and stopping in your tracks. "I know you're going to see jake" you whisper.

"sai'ak I can't talk-"

"take me" you plead.

"you know that-"

"norm, please" you move your arm, showing norm has shrugged off your hold, "please, I need to see him". Moving and using the space around you, you were there, in pandora, with norm.. not in some room with james cameron.

"your parents will never allow it"

"they don't need to know," the urgency in your voice was cut-throat, pained.

"I am not taking you away from your clan, you are the next tsahik." you close your eyes at their words, "I'm not going to be the one held accountable for taking you away from your clan, even for a little while"

"norm, I want to go," you start to feel your throat closing up as tears well in your eyes, "max, please" you whisper.

"I'm sorry kid, but you can't come" you let go of the breath you were holding on to, envisioning them walking away from you.

You hesitate to respond, looking around the room in panic. the reality that you might not get to go with them settling in. "he is all I have," you cry, the first tear fell, then another, and another. "please" you swallow the lump in my throat, "please take me with you".

"alright, thank you" the voice of the casting assistant brings you back and out of the scene. you quickly wipe your tears and make your way back to the mark on the ground.

"now," james looks around the table bringing another piece of paper from his pile, "let's start on the chemistry read.. jamie?"

you had failed to notice the entire time that there was a boy sitting in the corner of the room, a script in his hand. he looked around your age, quite tall and well built. his hair was brown and from far away you could see the blue in his eyes. "jamie is playing neteyam" james told you as you watched him walk over to you.

"nice to meet you," he stuck out his hand for you to shake.. he was british.

"you too," you were too concerned with how the panel thought your scene went to give him a full smile. jamie could tell that you were nervous, he felt your hand shaking slightly when yours met his.

"you alright? he asked quietly as he turned onto his mark.

you hesitated before nodding quickly, "yeah," you whispered, "just freaking out,"

"you'll be right," jamie reassured you softly with the nod of his head, "your last scene was great, you'll smash this."

you felt your chest become a little less tight with his words, "thanks."

"okay, so this scene is very vulnerable for these two. it's set in the start of the film where we really get to see a more child-like side to these two characters, who always have to be the strong, mature ones" james spoke. "it's one of my favourite's honestly," he confessed, "so, we'll go from the top- try and make it feel as natural as possible" he explained to you. nodding in response, you checked your mark before smiling up at jamie.

"whenever you're ready"

"skxawng," you spat at jamie, pulling him closer by his ear. jamie worked with you well, moving his head so you didn't have to actually pull him toward you. he hissed in response.

"that hurts," he winced. jamie hadn't adopted a na'vi accent like you had chosen too. you felt a little insecure about your attempt now that you knew he wasn't doing the same.

"good," you didn't change it though, you kept going with what you thought was right for sai'ak. "that is point," I crossed my arms, backing away from jamie. "what do you think you were doing, huh? you are a spotter neteyam, you don't belong on the ground."

"I know!" he stressed, "but I wasn't going to let un'su go down there alone, you know how he is"

"you cannot keep following your brother into danger," you shook your head, "we're kids! you know that right? we are not warriors, we are children"

Jamie's expression softened, "sai'ak," he sighed reaching out for you.

"no," you shrug him off, "I am tired," you admitted. "I know you have responsibilities, neteyam" you met his eyes, "but, we are just kids. you are not the leader of this clan yet, you do not need to act like it all of the time, yes?"

Jamie's eyes met the floor for a while before meeting yours again. "yes," he nodded, "I am sorry,"

"you do not need to apologise to me," you take a step closer to jamie. before you had the chance to think about it too much, you sigh and rest a hand on Jamie's cheek. he shakes his head whilst looking at the ground, leaning into your touch slightly. "you do not need to a mighty warrior all the time.. you know that?" before jamie could say his line, you cut him off with one that felt right, "you can just be neteyam." you smile at him softly.

jamie exhales through his nose as a laugh, "not everyone sees it that way". you were both completely off script now, but it felt natural, so you kept going.

"I see it that way," you tilted your head with a watery smile, tears glazing over your eyes. "I see.. who are you are, neteyam" jamie looks at you like he knew what you were going to say to him, he takes this and runs with it.

he hesitates before speaking, "I see you, sai'ak."

I laugh softly, taking your hands away from his face. "you must have hit your head very hard," you go back to a line from later on in the script.

"yes," jamie chuckles, "but I know what I am saying,"

you stop in your tracks, jamie towering over you. you look up at him and he holds your gaze. "I see you, ma' neteyam" I whisper. jamie smiles, resting his forehead against yours. you close your eyes, allowing your characters to drink in their moment together.

"alright, thanks guys," you and jamie quickly broke apart from each other, claiming your own space once again. "really good," one of the casting directors nodded, "y/n, thanks so much for coming in. we'll be in touch with you over the next week or so regarding the part," you nodded with a smile.

"thanks so much," you exhaled a big breath, feeling a weight fall from your shoulders now that you had finished. "nice to meet you all," you looked from the panel to jamie, who was smiling at you. he nodded and let out a small 'you too' before you left the room.

"she was good," James kept his eyes on the door, where you had just closed it.

"yeah, I liked that one" one of the women on the panel agreed.

"how did that feel jamie?" James asked him, looking up at the young boy.

"good," he nodded, "really good. she was great"

taglist. @littlexscarletxwitch, @thexplosivegirl, @lagoonabluebabe, @rexorangecouny, @ilovejakesullysdick @rhiannonhippiegirl @leelumenaura @playboykenz @couragemydearheart @graysonshaven @m-1234 @coconut-dreamz 

[roz-ani]

One issue I don't quite get and want to briefly comment on is the idea that Alastor has to be either an old-school villain who's just evil for the sake of being evil, or more of an antagonist with actual depth, emotions, and traumatic backstory to explain his actions, letting the audience relate to him. I think we're going to extremes here. We don't have to go, "Oh, I understand why he would do that". The main goal is for us to say, "Oh, so that's his deal".

While we don't know exactly what Alstor's deal is, what the exact terms of his contract are etc., he is, without a doubt, the most complex character in the show. He's in a unique position since he technically helps Charlie achieve her goal, but it's obvious he's in it for selfish reasons, with some grander scheme going on behind the scenes. May he eventually be the one the main cast will have to fight at some point? Sure. Would it be even more fun because he is a part of the said cast? Absolutely.

Let's get one thing straight: Alastor is evil. He's in Hell for a good reason. He's a cannibal and a serial killer. And I know we can absolutely forgive characters for doing the absolute worst, but he is not a good person. And yes, you can like (and simp for) evil characters. (If you think being a fan of intriguing fictional creations makes you a terrible person, you need to get off twitter and tiktok to actually interact with real people.) At the same time, the finale of season 1 simply made it clear that Al does have depth, and that he's going to be a three-dimensional character. Not that his actions are going to be suddenly justified.

But why can't we explore evil characters while enjoying them and letting them be evil? We can. Alastor started his carnage in Hell before making his deal, so it's not the main reason behind his less-than-questionable actions. For now, he's looking for freedom so he can (re)gain power and be in control again. At the same time, he is growing attached to the other characters. I highly doubt he'll be redeemed; we'll just learn more about him, his backstory, and his goals.

Can you even call Al an antagonist? If you ask me, he's more of an anti-hero. Heck, do we know who he is? Not really, and that's the point. He's one of the main characters, but he makes himself separate in both the story and the writing. He's a wild card.

We don't know what's coming for the Radio Demon in season 2. The first one established that there's more to him and that he started growing fond of the other characters, while the finale made Al realise it almost got him killed. He was humiliated and it reminded him even more that he's still under someone else's control. At least, that's how I see it. Alastor may become more sinister as the story progresses, and as he's getting more and more desperate to free himself of the contract. AT THE SAME TIME, he did come back to the Hotel with a smile and consent for a group hug, so it's not like he's going to blow it up in the first episode. He's not against the Hotel itself. He's doing his own thing, knowing that the titular establishment is an inherent part of his story. All paths lead to the Hazbin Hotel. My guess is that he will simply become more active.

Alastor is already a three-dimensional character; there is no doubt about that. But it's not like he's getting reckoned here. I don't really understand where this notion of our Radio Demon being an old-school villain came from in the first place. He's always been a mystery. Okay, maybe in the pilot it was not so clear-cut, and I'll admit, it would be fun to just see the Radio Demon as a powerful entity overlooking the hotel for his own pleasure. Turning him into a villain later on? Meh, depends on what would happen in the story if that were the case. Watching Jack Horner in "Puss in Boots", reminded me how much I missed villains that were not an initial antagonist's evil-incarnate-superior. However, it was quite quickly established that there is more to Alastor. He would have to appear pretty rarely to not go through any character arc in a show with such an ambitious storyline as Hazbin Hotel (and what a delightful character would we lose if that was the direction the writing team would have taken?). I would mention the pacing actually harming that development, but it's clear this is the show's biggest problem, and we just have to take things for granted.

If anything, Alastor is being restrained from being purely evil. To me, he's a combination of both of the character types I mentioned at the beginning, leaning more toward the well-developed anti-hero. Just let evil characters be evil and three-dimensional. 

[waynewifey]

aporia — b.w

part one : dear mr. wayne

part two: aftermath

part three: aporia

epilogue

sumary: aporia suggests “an impasse”, a knot or an inherent contradiction found in any text, an insuperable deadlock, or “double bind” of incompatible or contradictory meanings which are “undecidable”. [reference]

pairing: battinson/bruce wayne x reader

genre: drama & romance

warnings: mental health struggle, miscarriage, car crash, a lot of internal dialogue

word count: 2k

A/N: the more i write, the more i put myself in this story. i feel like this ‘you’ is so complex i can’t help but try to explain her further. part four will be bruce’s perspective on all of this + an epilogue. i’m so grateful for the amazing feedback given on the last two parts and for the new followers, thank you so so much. i hope you enjoy this. (also this gif??? HELLO???)

GOTHAM. USA.

— bargaining.

the uncomfortable silence makes you want to scream. she told you that was a normal reaction and they couldn't get rid of those moments, they were essential for your self reflection. the problem was being alone with your thoughts, even for just one minute. they keep deciding you won't recover any time soon. everyone keeps holding you like a cracked vase. even negligence was better than being put under the microscope.

"i don't know what you want me to say" you respond, your gaze anxiously shuffling between the objects in the room. the woman's eyes, however, don't ever leave your face. she holds that journal like a scientist analysing a mutation. like you're some weird thing.

"you should say whatever you feel like saying." that's what she always answers. dr. quinn was extremely stoic, even for a therapist. you still liked her, though, because her pragmatic approach helped you shift your point of view and see yourself from an outside perspective, which made you want to help yourself. after weeks of feeling extra irritable, still trying to forgive your husband for lying to you, you realised maybe everything was too much for you to handle by yourself. you wanted to go back to the real world but before that, you had to do this. a quick chat with your psychiatrist and he gave you the contact to harley quinn.

"i think i've been way too mean to bruce" your confession has her nodding, like that observation had been made sessions before and she was waiting for you to realise that. "he's been so supportive and helpful, but sometimes words just fly out of my mouth and i don't even mean them"

"do you think it's easier to blame him than to come to terms with what actually happened?" you can't answer, because this was all you've asked yourself lately. you were a coward, hiding behind his suffering to prevent confronting yours. it's easy to curse him, to reject him, but it's not what you want to do. lately it feels like you don't have any control over your emotions and actions. you thought maybe if you pushed away the last person that still cared for you, you could disappear in your loneliness and finally stop hurting. "y/n you've been through something terrible. the kind of thing we never think it's gonna happen to us. i know it doesn't feel real, but you have to face it that it is. the thing about trauma... you have to keep living with it. you have to keep going, because it doesn't go away. but this is your life and you don't get to stay on standby. you hurt the people you love because it's better than hurting yourself. you told me you feel bad about it, so why won't you change?"

why won't you? you don't even know where to start. it felt comfortable living in sorrow forever. horrible, but comfortable. again, it was in fact easier to blame him than to accept this was reality. but he's right outside, been waiting for you for two hours, as he has done twice a week for over a month. you weren't being fair to him. he didn't deserve this. dr. quinn sees the defeat in your eyes and sighs in a mission accomplished type of breath.

"think about this, okay? we'll talk on friday." you nod, as if you weren't already overthinking it.

bruce sees you before listening to you. he's created the habit to stay in the waiting room with headphones in, blasting loud music. he didn't want you to feel like he was prying on you. he also didn't want to listen anything you had to say about him. you had the right to be mad at him, given everything that had happened. he knew you didn't mean it when you bomb dropped the word 'divorce' every now and then. it would take you some time to get back to normal and he wouldn't rush you.

you walk to the car quietly and get into the driver's seat. he agreed to let you drive to and from therapy. the office was actually in dr. quinn's house, a little bit on the country side of the city, if you could call it that. it was a 50 minute drive with no traffic, roads empty enough for you to drift off in you thoughts. he watches you drive, eyes brightening up a little more everyday. he realised that trying to shield you from the world wasn't going to work out. you need to learn how to be on your own. he needs to learn how to care for you while away.

"i'm sorry," you caught him off guard, observing the curves of your face. he frowns at the unexplained sentence. you glance at him but look back at the road. "for the way i've been acting. for pushing you away. for being too complicated. i know you're trying to help… thank you for staying."

"darling, of course. for better or for worse, remember? i'm never leaving you. we're getting through this, together. and don't you worry about me, i'll be okay when you are too, alright? you're doing great, i can see how much you're working towards it." he holds out a hand for you and you take it, intertwining your fingers. his calloused palms are softer now, courtesy of the months without batman-ing. they still embrace yours entirely and warm the cold tips of your fingers.

"i love you" the sweetness of that feeling dominates your tastebuds and it's almost like the day you started dating. that innocent type of love that consist of the pure enjoyment of each others company. however, your attempt to savour the moment is ruined by a shape in your peripheral eyesight.

"i love you too" bruce's voice is muffled by the anxious thoughts taking over your mind. the panic starts to overflow. he notices your body getting stiff and the wheel looking loose on your hand. your breathing lost it's rhythm to creaking gasps. there's something wrong. your eyes are frozen in a vehicle. he's seen this van before. maybe not this one, but an identical one, in a security camera tape in court. it looks exactly like the one that took you. "baby, hey, hey. i'm right here." you don't pay any mind to the man beside you. you can't, not when your instincts are telling you to run. not when you can feel the gun getting knocked on your head over and over again. bruce is saying something. the tears are blurring your sight. this is too much.

he's calling you screaming at this point, tears are rolling down your cheeks and you still haven't looked away from the van. there's a bump coming up, the car is dangerously fast and you're not driving at all. he goes for the wheel but isn't quick enough. the tires wiggle, going in their own direction. the car changes lanes, getting in the wrong way of the street. another car is coming and the impact isn't light. your head is thrown forwards, the airbag covering your face. the windshield shatters and little pieces of glass get stuck in your hair. the crash isn't too bad, you're both still awake and only the front has been smashed. but you get out hyperventilating, falling onto the ground and weeping.

bruce gets out as well, only a scratch on the forehead. he has to kneel on the dirt to hold you up. for a while, he doesn't say anything. the other driver is standing, phone in the ear. he's also fine. the cars were the only damage. two other drivers stop by, offering help. you wish he could help you, but it seems as if there's something inherently wrong with you.

— depression.

the weeks following the accident were harsh. it took a while to get you believing in recovery again. you still weren't sure. somehow there was press at the site, so pictures of you crying next to a car crash made it to the papers. there's minor commentary online about you faking it for your husbands popularity. most of the netizens feel desperately sorry for you and have painted you to be their new princess diana, the comparison seems wild to you.

you only go online every three days or so, because you can't resist the urge to know what bruce hasn't been telling you. jokes on you, he's actually been a lot more transparent lately. you agreed that the batman would show up to the sentence of edward nashton, to pressure the jury with his presence. it worked and the criminal got life without parole. the lawyers said that your public presence impacted on his trial, as 20 years was the standard. you were just glad he wouldn't do that to anybody else ever again. the case got national and your family from outside the state, that you not-so-kindly kept in the dark, started making contact, victimising you all over again.

but things were getting better, gradually. it had been almost a year and it felt like that chapter of your life was finally being finished. you were trying to get your life back, including your driver's license. it was suspended for a while after the accident, so now you had to submit a bunch of medical records to prove that you were mentally fine to drive again. that's how you found yourself in bruce's home office, searching everywhere for your documents. you could've asked him where he put it, but he had just fallen asleep in the living room and you didn't want to disturb him.

in one of the desk's drawers, you find a folder with the local hospital logo on it. you open it, shuffling through the papers you've seen before. only one stands out, with "ob/gyn" on the top of the sheet. you wonder if there's anything helpful there. your eyes start reading the words one by one, listing the examinations they've done on you. the subject changes abruptly.

the ultrasound analysis reports the miscarriage of an unknown pregnancy to the patient's spouse.

you feel like you're about to throw up. the world starts spinning as you force yourself to continue to read.

the fetus was estimated to be in the development stage of the beginning of the second trimester. the miscarriage was most likely a result of several mechanical trauma. dilation and curettage was performed with the patient in a medically induced coma.

you try to remember to breathe in and breathe out just like dr. quinn taught you. you expect the tears but they don't come out. the panic doesn't come. it's suddenly so quiet. it's not like a hole has been punched through your chest, it's like you have no chest at all. it's like you don't even exist. you somehow sit down, your body does. you feel as if it's moving on it's own and you're just watching from afar. your thoughts sound so distant, so irrelevant. you can only think of the baby that had once been inside of you and you didn't even realised. you didn't have the time to love him. you've had him there, right there, the thing you wanted the most in the world and he was taken from you. everything was taken from you.

if a tree falls on a forest, and there's no one around to hear, does it still make a sound? it felt like your fall was silent.

[changbinsboiledegg]

Hiiii I saw your requests post and wanted to ask for Ateez reactions to breaking up with the reader but meeting again later? ❤️‍🩹🥺

Thank you for your request, angsty atiny 🫶 I hope these are what you were asking for and I hope you enjoy, ILY. :) 🫶🫶

Warnings: Breakups, implied cheating (no one actually cheats ofc), Alcohol mention, let me know if I'm missing any!

Note: Okay, some are fluffy, some are angsty. I tried to mix up the reasonings for the breakups so they all don't have the same outcomes lmao. I'm also sleepy so if there are any typos, please turn a blind eye lmao, ily.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Hongjoong

You and Hongjoong only broke up due to differing career paths, which meant you two barely had time— if any at all, to spend with each other. As the years pass by, you’re much more stable than you were before and with a lot more free time.

But with free time, you tend to think about Hongjoong, which makes you wonder if he thinks of you too.

“Will that be cash or card?” The cashier asked as you had already ordered your drink at a local cafe.

“Cash.” You replied, trying not to feel pressured by the line forming behind you. You opened your wallet to find the cash you were wanting to get rid of but to no avail. The cashier began to get a bit impatient, already stressed about the line.

As you were searching more frantically, the pin pad beeped and a hand had removed his card from the chip reader.

“Thank you.” The all too familiar voice spoke, sending a chill up your spine. You quickly stepped out of the way as Hongjoong had begun to order and pay for his own drink.

With a friendly demeanor, he walked over to where you waited. By this time, you already found the cash you were going to pay for your drink with and held it out towards him, only for him to decline.

You scoffed, slowly retracting your arm with a small smile. “I see you haven’t changed.”

“I see you haven’t either.” Hongjoong joked, poking fun at the way you were trying to offload spare cash, rather than use your card.

You felt the urge to throw your arms around him, but it had been so long that doing so would feel awkward.

“Join me? Let’s catch up.” Hongjoong gestured towards an empty table while you both waited for your drinks.

You had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time you saw him again.

Seonghwa

Your breakup was mutual, deciding it was for the best. No malice or sadness came from it, although you found yourself thinking about him from time to time.

You moved into a new apartment following the breakup and a year later, you were still there with your roommate.

You hadn’t heard from Seonghwa since your breakup nor did you really speak about him to anyone. He was just another thought in your mind that gave you comfort knowing your past bond with him was real.

You checked the mail while walking your roommate’s dog for them while they were out and started to head back to your unit, not thinking much about the moving vans outside as new people often moved in and out of the complex.

You headed up the stairs with the dog and slid your keys into the keyhole.

“Move slower! I don’t want to trip!” You heard the voice of a male come up the stairs located two doors from your apartment.

You weren’t sure why, but you wanted to see what they were moving up the stairs. But that’s when you saw him, Seonghwa. Your ex-boyfriend. He was on the other end of the couch he was trying to get up the stairs.

Once they were up stairs, you recognized the other guy, Wooyoung. Seonghwa panted, wiping sweat from his forehead before his eyes fell on you.

“You’re my neighbor?” You both said in sync. Seonghwa chuckled at the unison, walking closer to you.

“I was just thinking about you earlier.” Seonghwa confessed, momentarily forgetting the couch.

Wooyoung pinched the bridge of his nose, “hello? Couch? You two can talk in a few minutes.”

You grinned, “better get to it. I’ll be right across from you.”

Yunho

It was a misunderstanding that broke up your once perfect relationship. It happened when Yunho started to get back home late. Then he used different excuses every time you asked.

Then you saw him at the jewelry store with someone else, laughing and looking at rings.

Now, a year later after your breakup, with a somewhat mended heart, you tried to walk past that same jewelry store in an attempt to get over the hurt attached to it.

You managed to do so without breaking down, but your chest still hurt. It was a process, after all.

You entered a park an decided to sit on the bench in order to take a moment and breath, letting the peacefulness drown out your thoughts of Yunho.

That was until you noticed someone walking up to you in a hesitant manor.

“Hey.” Yunho sheepishly spoke, hoping you wouldn’t shoo him away. You froze when you looked at him, all of the memories flashing through your mind.

“Hey… Oh my God, it’s been a while.” You spoke in a quiet voice and tried to swallow back the lump in your throat. Yunho smiled a bit, sitting beside you.

“How are you?” Yunho asked. You weren’t sure if you wanted to lie or be honest.

“I—” You stopped yourself. Yunho let out a sharp breath of air, “I’ve been wanting to explain myself since a year ago.”

Right. You never allowed him an explanation. You were too wrapped up in jealousy and your broken heart that you didn’t allow him that.

“Who you saw with me, was a friend.” He began, digging into his pocket, holding a ring. “They were helping me find an engagement ring— for you.”

“You kept it?” You felt your heart stop. You were relieved, but very regretful. Yunho nodded, “I didn’t have the heart to get rid of you.”

He widened his eyes, realizing his mistake, “I mean, it. I didn’t have the heart to get rid of it.”

You teared up, feeling more and more regretful, “I am so sorry, I should’ve let you explain.”

Yunho wrapped his arms around you, noticing you were on the verge of tears.

“I would have never wanted to hurt you in that way.” Yunho comforted you, even if he needed to be comforted too.

“Let’s start over,” Yunho eventually pulled away with a much wider smile and holding out his hand for a handshake. “I’m Yunho.”

Yeosang

He was set to debut soon and barely had time to see you. But that didn’t mean he didn’t try. Even if it meant sneaking around or losing more sleep. He loved you. He wanted your relationship to work.

But as he was debuting, he was given an ultimatum. You or his career.

“This is your dream. Your future. I will still be here waiting for as long as it takes.” You reassured him. Yeosang tried to convince himself it would be okay. Which it was, but he wished you were there every step of the way.

And you were. Just not in the way he hoped.

You watched from afar, always there, but never interfering with his work. The last thing you wanted was to ruin his dreams.

Three years later, you were at your favorite spot. The place you and Yeosang always visited when you both wanted to go out but not with people around. You visited almost every day, even if you were alone.

You laid down a picnic blanket on a spot and arranged multiples of his and your favorite snacks. It would be your five year anniversary, had his company let him still continue to be with you. You still loved him and even though you knew the relationship was over, you couldn’t bring yourself to date anyone else. After all, you did tell him you would wait for him.

“Happy anniversary.” You mumbled, blowing out a candle you had lit up a few seconds prior.

“Happy anniversary.”

You snapped your head in the direction of his voice, seeing Yeosang. He looked different. Older. But you could tell he was the same person you fell in love with.

He smiled fondly at you as he sat beside you on the blanket. “You actually waited.”

“I told you, I would.” You wanted to hug and kiss him, but you were waiting for the ‘go ahead’ to do so. Yeosang stared at you, his eyes twinkling with gratitude that you didn’t give up after all this time.

“Good. I’m still very much in love with you.”

“What about your company?” You asked, heart racing in your chest. Yeosang smiled a bit wider, rolling his eyes slightly.

“They aren’t as strict as before. That’s why I finally came back.” He emphasized the word ‘finally’.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, pulling him closer to you in your arms, “I missed you so much.”

Yeosang wrapped his arms snuggly around you, “I missed you too.”

San

It was the worst argument you two had since your relationship started. Any other argument prior was minor or over something small that you two made up for later. At first, you thought this would be one of those situations but the louder you two yelled, the more volatile the argument got.

Within that same hour, San left you alone, crying and broken hearted. Within a few days, he came for his stuff.

And two years later, he came back.

It was raining and yet that didn’t stop your doorbell form ringing. You weren’t prepared for San to be on the other side, soaking wet and with alcohol on his breath.

“San? Why are you—” You shook your head, letting him inside and out of the rain before he caught a cold.

“I admit, I got drunk and couldn’t stop thinking about you so… here I am.” San’s speech slurred as you grabbed a towel to give him. San wrapped himself in the towel, shivering slightly. “I still hate you.”

You didn’t respond, knowing he was drunk and you didn’t want to argue— again, with someone who had one too many.

“I hate you, but why am I still so in love with you?” San whined, sitting down on the couch, almost missing it completely had it not been for your help.

“Stay here.” You ignored his words, although you can’t lie; your heart skipped a beat.

You came back with water and dry clothes that he forgotten long ago that you never got around to discarding.

San took the water, drinking some of it before taking the clothes off your hands.

“Go change.” You mumbled, wondering what you were doing helping your drunk ex-boyfriend.

San got up and went to change. When he came back, he looked tired as he leaned against the wall to cover up the fact that he almost stumbled into it first.

“I don’t hate you.” San rubbed his eyes. “I do still love you.”

“San—” ”Please, I know you moved on but let me tell you before I regret this in the morning.” His voice still slurred, leaning his head against the wall as well. “I shouldn’t have left. I love you. I never meant to hurt you. I love you! Why did we argue?”

“San, seriously. I would rather talk about this when you’re not drunk.” You blinked hard to hold back your tears. San walked over to the couch and plopped down with a low grunt.

“I love you.”

“San.”

“Fine. Tomorrow.”

Mingi

Somewhere along the way, you both fell out of love. It happens to everyone at least once. But you didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it did when you two actually broke up and parted ways.

Something so good had died down, making the person you loved more than anything into a stranger.

You’ve dated other people since the breakup. But they weren’t Mingi. Even if you fell out of love with him and he you, you couldn’t stop but thinking about him and how good he was to you.

It had been months since your breakup and you tried one more time— for now, to date someone and convince yourself you weren’t just trying to rid your thoughts of Mingi.

You waited for you blind date at the reserved table, looking over the menu.

Right on time, you heard the screeching of a chair being dragged against the floor. Looking up, you immediately widened your eyes.

Mingi was just as surprised, freezing for a second before hesitantly sitting down.

“We’ve come full circle, huh?” Mingi lightheartedly chuckled. You immediately smiled at him, shaking your head.

“Guess so. I won’t be upset if you want to leave.” You offered but deep down, you hoped he would stay.

“I’m hungry, you’re hungry.” Mingi shook his head, “and you’re my date.”

You were so sure you didn’t feel anything for him anymore. How untrue that was.

Mingi’s presence felt natural. Relieving. Familiar.

“Right.” You cleared your throat, handing him a menu. “I think you can guess what I’m getting.”

Mingi slightly smirked, glancing up from the menu at you. He then collected the menus and chuckled.

“Me too.”

Wooyoung

You two had a strong relationship. Never did you ever imagine someone else would try and successfully break it up.

It started when someone Wooyoung worked with became infatuated with him. Slowly, they worked their way into his and your lives and did everything they could to make you look bad. Even going as far as to frame you for cheating.

Unfortunately, Wooyoung believed them.

Now you’re left to pick up the broken pieces of your heart after being wrongfully accused of cheating and even losing friends in the process.

You were home, feeling as lonely as ever when your phone dinged and a message popped up on screen.

You had deleted his number, but you knew right away that was Wooyoung.

-‘Hey. I’m sorry I thought you cheated. I shouldn’t have been quick to believe it. Can we please talk?’

You stared at the message, contemplating whether you actually wanted to see him again or not.

You left him on read for the night, deciding to sleep on your decision. When you woke up the next day, you saw another message from him.

-‘I know I hurt you. Please let’s talk.’

You thought it over, letting your heart speak rather than your brain.

-’Come over.’ you messaged, hoping you wouldn’t regret it.

When Wooyoung arrived, he looked as if he ran a marathon, panting and sweating profusely.

“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.” Wooyoung took a deep breath to control his breathing. You still felt the hurt, crossing your arms over your chest.

“When did you realize that I never cheated?”

“You had an alibi— Listen, I really screwed up. I don’t know why I didn’t just ask you first instead of jumping to conclusions.” Wooyoung apologized. He had a look of regret as he gave you a pleading look.

“Alibi?”

“Yeah. I was sent screenshots of a conversation about how the evidence of you cheating were fake.” Wooyoung explained, “I really am sorry. I really screwed up, please. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but at least… consider letting me make up for it?”

You felt tears prick your eyes but didn’t dare let them spill. “I will consider it. But just know that you really hurt me.”

Jongho

Your breakup happened due to lack of time together. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong, you were just both busy when the other was free. And feeling like it wasn’t fair to either of you, you both made the decision to break up.

After a few years, you were in the grocery store, going off a list you had been meaning to get to. As you walked down an isle to find the last item you needed, you saw it.

Only it was in the back of the shelf and hard to reach. You let out a sigh, reaching as far as you could.

“Agh! How far back does this damn shelf go?” You cursed to yourself.

“Hey, let me help.”

You were startled for a moment, but when it registered and you turned to face the person who the voice belonged to, you instantly stepped out of the way and let him take care of it.

Within a moment, Jongho managed to maneuver the item closer to you. You grabbed it, mumbling a ‘thank you’, and setting it in your cart.

Jongho seemed to have a look of hope on his features as he examined you.

“Wow, it’s been a long time.” Jongho commented, smiling slightly. You looked at him in exchange, your heart fluttering and hurting all the same when you thought of how much time had passed since your mutual breakup.

“Oh yeah… You look… great.” You complimented, meaning it. Jongho’s smile grew.

“You look… great too.” Jongho’s smile turned into a smirk as he teased the way you paused. You chuckled, rolling your eyes.

“I am so glad to see you again.” You spoke with sincerity.

“I am so glad to see you too.”

[onesapphireeye]

just a word

You and Aemond had grown apart over the past few years. But, when he finally rid himself of the shackles of his on again off again relationship with Alys, he shows up at your apartment.

modern!aemond x reader. modern!aemond x alys rivers. warnings: sex at the end. annoying, probably unreliable reader. not for minors. p in v sex. use of she/her for reader.

nori says: this is something no one asked for. i just needed to get this out of my head. lots of backstory? idk it's probably terrible. please be gentle, as i haven't written anything in so long. i'd love feedback! also send me ideas if you want to! xoxo.

word count: 4,752

Your parents, both renowned politicians, attempted to make you feel as though you were a child of the greatest value. It didn't help that the whole world appeared to be enchanted by you; and you, a cherubic faced little demon, were not afraid of using the power of your charm.

You could easily call out the names of people at school and expect them to come running, but the luxurious adoration grew boring and made you crave something more than simple admiration.

You remember meeting Aemond Targaryen in middle school. Everyone steered clear of him, but you were drawn in. Despite hearing stories of his temper, and how quick he was to throw a punch, you worked up the courage to approach him. Surprisingly, he had been welcoming of your advances. He smiled and spoke in a gentle voice, and you felt like you had known him forever.

Soon enough, he became a regular guest at your house, where the two of you would sit and talk about literature and history. He said he envied you in a way—you were an unusual child who was often in the thoughts of those around her, while he never quite fit in anywhere.

You told him that he belonged to with you.

Aemond seemed to come alive during those conversations, talking endlessly of the history of old Valyria, and his enthusiasm was contagious. The more time you spent discussing that ancient culture, the closer the two of you became, and he opened up to you in a way he said he had rarely done with anyone else.

He spoke of his family and his feelings—his loneliness and his anger—and his search for identity and purpose. Those moments were like a window into his soul, and you felt honored to be in the presence of someone so complex. He was the perfect mix of boy, man and monster.

You felt as if you could truly relate to him, and you had never felt so understood.

As the years passed, Aemond became your closest friend and ally in mischief. Everywhere you went, you were inseparable.

Yet, when the two of you entered high school, you suddenly felt out of place; you were a late bloomer who had gone from wanting to be different to being treated like you were.

Any pubescent confidence you had was gone, replaced by feeling small and insignificant, while Aemond was already transforming into an adult.

Despite your differences, there was an unspoken connection between the two of you, and you silently vowed to be best friends forever.

It was only once he began dating popular Alys Rivers in your senior year that you comprehended the permanence of 'forever'.

Despite your own awkwardness and insecurity, it was easy to see why she liked him. At seventeen, when you still looked like the underside side of a foot (thanks Aegon), Aemond had grown into an ethereal creature, almost magical in his beauty. Some sort of elf like thing from those fanfiction smuts you read online at night beneath the covers.

As you watched Aemond and Alys grow closer, you couldn't help but feel a deep pang of sadness in your chest. Seeing them together was a stark reminder of everything you had shared with him before she came into the picture.

When you did manage to hang out, there was a tension that hadn't been there before. The relationship had changed him - he was different than he used to be; more mature, more sophisticated, more aloof and distant.

And his hugs goodbye started to linger on. He would whisper something softly in your ear when he would embrace you, but not look back once he was out your front door. You were left to guess what his true intentions were.

It felt like maybe you were two steps away from being in a relationship of your own with Aemond, but the fear of being wrong kept holding you back from taking the plunge.

You wondered what it would be like if you came clean and told him how you felt, but didn't like the risk of getting your heart broken if he wasn't interested in being more than friends.

You had to watch from the sidelines as he poured all of his energy into Alys in a way that had even his mom giving him sidelong glances and unsolicited advice; telling him not to spend too much time focused on her instead of himself or his future goals.

And then one day it happened - things changed between the two of you again.

After a tense discussion about which college you would both attend, he'd blown up at you for saying you wanted to run as far away from King's Landing as possible.

There was an exchange of harsh words and hurtful remarks. He told you it was time to grow up, to face your fears head on and that things between you couldn't stay the same forever.

He didn't want to keep dwelling in the darkness; he wanted to be his own person, not defined by his anger.

He wanted you to change with him and you had told him no. You told him no longer believed in forever anyway.

It felt like you were having two different conversations, but misunderstanding both.

You wanted to be you and Aemond; not you, Aemond and Alys. He'd given you a strange look then, and stormed off angrily.

By the end of that school year, you almost couldn't bear to hear either of their names. He gave off the impression of being happy and content with Alys and it made you feel even more invisible.

The wilder elements of your nature urged you to claw your way through Alys' skin. You yearned to become her, believing it would raise your self-esteem. The thought of imitating her style and mannerisms crossed your mind, only to be instantly dismissed as foolish. All that you really wanted was for Aemond to speak to you like a true friend and not like just someone who wasn't her.

There was no way to win, so you decided that your friendship meant as much to you as it did him.

Not shit.

After graduation, you distanced yourself and went ahead with your plan to pick a university as far away as possible from his (and Alys') choice of Drangonstone: White Harbor U.

Living without Aemond was difficult. Not more difficult than it had ever been, but with that sickly sweet feeling of codependency gone, you felt scared. You had never been your own person before, but you were determined to try now.

You found that the city was teeming with people who had something to offer, but you couldn't make a lasting connection. The men you dated never stuck around, leaving you feeling more and more alone.

Eventually, you settled with Dalton Greyjoy, an art major who made side money by selling prints of stormy coastlines and mermaids in the harbor. Dalton was everything Aemond use to be; wild and unpredictable, like the sea he so often painted.

Dalton made it easier for you to open up about yourself. He saw that a spark of fire simmering just beneath your surface. With him, it felt okay to be vulnerable; he listened without judgement or condescension whenever you told him about your struggles with self-esteem or shared stories from your past.

A hint of distance kept things from going too deep between you two. You could tell he liked being around you but it never seemed like enough for him to commit fully or even discuss anything serious beyond weekend plans or art exhibitions happening in town.

It wasn't until months later that he finally admitted he wasn't ready for more than what you already had – a friendship with physical perks.

Leaving Dalton was easier than you wanted to admit... but something lingered in the back of your mind: an ever-present reminder that no matter how close someone is willing to get to you they still may not be able stay by your side forever.

With college finished and the anxiety of the future looming, you realized that you didn't have the funds to keep going.

You had girl-bossed your way into exhaustion and credit card debt. Your father wanted to take the situation into his own hands, but that meant you would be indebted to him. He'd been suggesting marriage for a while now and had dropped several names of eligible partners. You'd attempted to brush it off, but you knew he disliked Dalton and he didn't have much faith in your romantic decisions.

Politically, he needed you to attach yourself to someone who wouldn't cause any scandal. Rather than hawking yourself like a prized horse, you cleverly conned him into providing you with a job that utilized your freshly-obtained degree.

Your parents had split up shortly after you graduated high school, but they both made a strong attempt to coax you into choosing one side to live with.

It didn't matter to you that rent would eat up most of your paycheck. Returning home felt like a never-ending loop; like your life was repeating itself, constricting all your freedom.

You desperately needed some kind of liberation.

Three days into living off of salads in a dimly lit room, you heard a knock on the door. You almost decided to pretend you weren't home, but then remembered you had ordered some things online to help cure your depression and thought that it might be your packages.

To your annoyance, it wasn't the courier, but Aemond.

He was standing in front of you with takeout from the local Yi-ti place and a bottle of Dornish red. As completely unexpected as his presence was, it didn't take a genius to figure out who must have given him your address. You definitely hadn't, in fact you hadn't even told him you were moving back.

'Aegon' you thought, 'you fucking prick.'

Yesterday, Helaena and the older Targaryen boy had helped you move in what meager furniture you had; and you knew Helaena would never have given you up.

Aemond, for his part seemed content to ignore your discomfort, his broad smile contrasting against his bright blue eyes.

You narrowed your gaze, glaring up at him as you queried, "Are you stalking me?"

"I was in the neighborhood and wanted to see how a junior press secretary lives." He replied, flashing a self-assured smirk that sent shivers through

you. You could tell he was joking but your frown only deepened. You were going to kill Aegon.

"Poorly." You gripped the door handle. "Now that you've blessed us mere mortals with your judgement, you may leave." You tried to close the door but he uttered your name in a pleading whine.

"I lied, I just needed to see you. Please." You found it difficult to stand your ground against him, even after all the time that had passed. You clenched your jaw before letting him in. He cast a brief look around your small living space, and your anger mounted.

You kicked the door close and spoke, "I've been eating in my bed and no I don't have two glasses." You directed him to the bedroom and gestured for him to sit down.

He slipped off his shoes, and you stopped yourself from examining their size. You couldn't let your mind go there. "You better have ordered the Jade Emperor chicken."

He laughed, taking out the Styrofoam containers from the brown paper bags. "I almost didn't, but you know I know what you like." You watched his hands as he opened up the containers and began to set them up on your bedspread.

You settled beside him and began to eat, savoring all bites of the delicious dish. Take out was a luxury that you weren't quite ready to allow your dad to set up blind dates for.

You didn't see the amusement in Aemond's eyes as you moaned in pleasure between bites. "This is why I love Yi-Ti," you said after you swallowed another satisfying mouthful of chicken.

He nodded in agreeance knowing his plan was working; despite everything, it was nice to have someone to share a meal with.

The wine helped you two to fall into the easy way things use to be.

Aemond started talking about how he was working at the family company and some of his recent projects. You listened intently, nodding as he spoke, occasionally making an interesting comment or two when asked for input. When he was done recounting all of his work adventures, he turned his attention back to you.

"So what are your plans now that you're back in Kings Landing?" he asked with genuine interest. You sat down your chopsticks before wiping your mouth with a napkin and then responded slowly.

"Now that I have this degree, I'm hoping to make something out of it...eventually." You paused for a moment, looking away from Aemond and out the window which revealed an empty street below your apartment building. "I guess I'm just trying to figure out where I belong."

He looked down at the floor. You didn't let the silence stretch too long and updated him on your parents. Your dad has just started dating some woman that was closer to your age than his. Aemond knew something about that.

"Yeah," he commiserated, "my dads still a dick too."

You chuckled dryly before taking another sip of wine and falling into a comfortable silence as you both thought about all of the things in life that weren't going as planned.

Once dinner had ended, Aemond asked if he could stick around a little longer, and you couldn't believe how swiftly you'd agreed. You reasoned that it must be because you didn't want to act disrespectful, given your past friendship with the person who had just brought dinner over to you.

You both moved to settle against the headboard and continued your light chatting.

You worked up the courage to ask about Alys. He surprised you when he said that he had broken up with her for good this time. She had started pressuring him about marriage, but she wasn't the one he saw himself being with forever. You had scoffed at the word, but let him finish talking.

"I realized that she was like a band-aid, she helped my anger but my wounds underneath were festering." He looked at the wall opposite of you, "that's how I felt with her, like large parts of me had putrefied off. I woke up and I missed those parts."

His voice was hollow and desperate, and he paused as you tried to clear the lump that had formed in your throat. You being the parts of him that were missing was left largely unsaid. "So when Aegon let it slip that you'd come back... I had to see you with my own eyes."

You waited a bit, to find the right words, but nothing was poetic enough. "I missed you too. You don't deserve it, but I missed you so fucking much, Aemond." Your breath was coming out in shallow gasps as the air seemed to thicken between the two of you. You were both so close, your lips barely an inch from each other, and it felt like time had stopped. "You need to apologize to me."

"I'm so sorry." He began immediately, "You don't know how much I've hated myself for ending our friendship." He was looking straight into your eyes, all trace of bravado gone.

You wanted to be mad at him. This was supposed to be a person from your past you had gotten over. But the truth was, you knew you still loved him.

For a moment, neither of you moved or spoke. Then, almost simultaneously, you both leaned in slightly and your lips brushed against each other for the first time. The kiss was tender and filled with longing and regret – all the things that had been left unsaid between you two for so long.

Your hands reached up to intertwine in his hair as he kissed you more deeply, exploring your mouth like it was something precious he'd been searching for all along. You felt him wrap one arm around your waist while the other ran down your back softly before gripping onto your ass. Aemond pressed against the curves of your body as if trying to meld himself into you completely. You could feel his heart beating fast just beneath his skin.

The kiss slowly faded into soft pecks until finally it ended with one final gentle nip on the corner of your mouth before he pulled away to give you a look asking for permission to go further. You nodded your head.

It was then that Aemond let out a quiet moan, he reached behind him to pull off his shirt in one fluid motion before quickly removing off the rest of his clothes.

You could feel your face flush as you followed suit, shedding your own clothing until the two of you were sitting there naked in front of one another. The only sounds were your labored breath and the beating of your hearts as they surged with adrenaline from what was about to come next.

Aemond leaned forward, bringing himself closer to you as he cupped your face tenderly with one hand while using the other to brush against your exposed skin softly. His touch felt like electricity running through your veins and it caused an involuntary shudder run through you body in response.

All of your previous anger dissipated.

His eyes were full of need and desire as he pulled you to the edge of the bed effortlessly. Spreading your knees apart, he knelt before you. It was your turn to smirk. He looked like he belonged there.

"Finally humbled before me, huh?" In response, he tugged on the back of your legs, which prompted a yelp of surprise and a burst of laughter.

His hands explored your lower body with a slow intensity that had your heart racing and your skin tingling with pleasure. His mouth left trails of kisses across your belly and thighs. He found all of your most sensitive spots, caressing them with a gentle care that had you gasping for air.

Years of fingering yourself, pretending it was him touching you had finally come to this. Through the haze of lust, you realized that you must have said that out loud because he hummed into your skin.

Kissing the inside of your thigh, he looked up at you. "I was obsessed with the idea of you masturbating. Imagining how you touched yourself, imagining what turns you on."

"When we were younger?" Your eyes were wide.

He shook his head, confessing. "Then and now. I jacked off to the thought of you yesterday." You were taken aback by his admission, but you couldn't help but feel flattered that he'd been fantasizing about you for so long.

Finally, when you thought you could stand no more, his tongue darted out to send shockwaves through your system as it circled around and then dipped inside your already wet pussy. Your mind blanked out at the sensations coursing through you. You felt like flying into pieces just from this one act alone.

He buried his face deep between your legs, while murmuring words of adoration in between each delicious lick of his tongue. Every movement sent orgasmic ripples down your spine until, it hit its climax and all that was left was to bask in its aftermath: complete and utter euphoria.

When he decided you were ready, Aemond reached over to his pants and pulled a condom out of his wallet. Your jealousy was glad he had at least been practicing safe sex with Alys.

To avoid going to a dark place, you said the first thing that came to mind. "Of course your penis would be pretty." It was thick and pink, with just a slight curve to the right that had you expecting good things. A bead of precum leaked out of the tip and you subconsciously licked your lips. You wanted to taste it.

He laughed at you, shaking his head, as he rolled the rubber on. "You think so?"

You didn't trust yourself to speak so you just nodded. With a smirk, he pushed your shoulder lightly, so that you fell back against the bed again and positioned himself so his cock was against your clit. He entered slowly, letting out a moan of pleasure as he filled you up completely.

You dug your nails into his back with each thrust, wanting him deeper and harder each time. His hands were again all over your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He felt like absolute bliss inside of you and it was making your entire body quiver with pleasure in anticipation for what was to come next.

Just when you felt your climax hitting, Aemond’s hips began to cant back and forth in a lazy rhythm. You barely registered that he was fucking with you. You made mewls of protest as he grinded into your pussy.

He wanted you to feel as frustrated as he had felt all these years trying not to chase after your shadow. He chuckled, the low rumble vibrating against your skin. "I've waited so long for this and I'm not going to rush it." Your head felt dizzy.

"P-please, Aemond, please, can I cum? We can go again." You begged between moans.

Aemond seemed to take pity on you, his fingers dug gently into your waist and he kissed your neck softly as he started to thrust fast again. You gasped in pleasure as you felt the delightful sensation of him inside you as his movements increased in depth and intensity.

He was relentless in his pace; each thrust pushing you closer and closer to the edge until finally he whispered into your ear “Tell me what you need, baby."

One hand moved up to cradle your face while his other caressed down the length of your body. Your skin burned wherever he touched and when his thumb moved to caress circles around your clit you couldn't contain a loud moan that escaped from your lips, "More, Aemond please!"

He grinned down at you "Say it like you mean it, Baby." He commanded before increasing the pressure with each stroke of his thumb on your sensitive bundle of nerves until finally the pressure became too much for you to take.

With a shuddering cry, you threw back your head and shouted out his name as waves upon waves of pleasure cascaded through every inch of your body, leaving no part untouched in its wake.

He thrust twice more, his mouth slanting over yours in something that was more teeth clashing than a kiss, and stilled. As your breathing slowed down, Aemond collapsed on top of you, exhausted and satisfied.

"Aemonddd," you whined, weakly trying to push his heavy body off and you heard him laugh again. He moved to lay beside you and and held you close. You nuzzled into his chest and felt the warmth of contentment.

You lay there together for a while afterwards, feeling sated yet blissfully relaxed all at once. He kissed your forehead, cock long having gone soft.

"Let me go get something to clean you up with." You didn't want him to get up, but you were too tired to stop him.

After Aemond went to the bathroom, his phone started ringing from somewhere on the floor. You shuffled to hang off the edge of the bed to look at it. You didn’t want to invade his privacy, but the screen was face up. What if it was important?

A small voice in the back of your head reminded you that you didn’t know enough about his current life to discern whether this call could be an emergency… but you looked anyway and your heart sank. That same small voice laughed bitterly ‘and that’s what you get, you dumbass.'

It was Alys. 

You watched the phone vibrate until it stopped ringing. Not two seconds later, a ding signaled that a text message had been delivered.

[INCOMING] “Great seeing you last night, Aem. Sorry I had to rush off but I’ll take that raincheck tonight. Xoxo.”

Your stomach twisted with nausea as realization sunk in—you were just a second choice, the back-up plan for when Alys was too busy. He’d ended up at your door, because he was bored. Or whatever. The schematics didn’t matter.

Anger flooded through you and tears stung your eyes as the voice in your head laughed bitterly at your foolishness. He could never look at you the way he looked at her.

You heard the water shut off from the bathroom and quickly scrambled back to the head of your bed, propping yourself up against the headboard. You mustered up your best lopsided grin for Aemond, trying hard to feign indifference as he entered the room with a towel slung over his shoulder.

He gave you a wink in return and then turned his attention to his phone, picking it up off the ground, he sent out a flurry of messages with a smug look on his face. You scowled when he smiled at the screen, feeling foolish for expecting more than he was capable of giving.

"Texting your ex-girlfriend back?" You allowed the bubbling anger to seep out, feeling completely and utterly played. You sounded every bit of an asshole you thought he was.

Aemond tossed the phone down and looked at you in confusion, all traces of happiness gone. You didn't like how his eyes made you feel anymore, and his silence felt like a confession.

“Wow, I should have known. You two are made for each other you know that." Tears rimmed your eyes "Fuck you, Aemond. I’m so fucking stupid.”

You got up and grabbed your clothes off the ground, you needed to get as far away from him as possible. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing your heart break.

He all but jumped over the bed and grabbed your arms, “hey, hey” he tried to calm you down. You wanted to lash out, but knew it wouldn't do any good. “Sweetheart, talk to me.”

You didn't want to talk. What was there to say? He had a girlfriend and he only came around when she wasn't available - you get the picture.

So instead of talking, you just looked away, avoiding his gaze and focusing on the floor. Your breathing started to slow as he gently enveloped you into his arms and held you close.

For a moment, everything felt okay again. But then reality hit - your eyes widened as you remembered what had just happened and your stomach dropped in despair. The anger was back in an instant and before you knew it hot tears of rage were flowing down your cheeks.

He held onto you tighter as if trying to shield you from pain with his embrace, rocking back and forth until eventually the tears stopped.

When the storm passed, he pulled away slightly so that he could look into your eyes. He shook you, “Don’t you get it? I didn’t come here because of her, I came here for you, I came here because despite all of our differences, I still care for you.” He pleaded, “I don't want to be with her again.”

Aemond looked more apologetic than you had ever seen him; his features softened as soon as he saw how broken up inside you truly were. You blinked, you were upset and yet so confused. He smiled and kissed your forehead, “It’s you I’ve always wanted, it’s you I still want.”

You desperately wanted to believe him. In your silence, he pulled you back to the bed and held you. Once he was certain that you wouldn't try to flee, he let go of you and picked up his phone. "I want you to see what I wrote to her, Baby."

He showed you the conversation thread, and you audibly groaned in response.

[OUTGOING] 'no need. i meant what i said last night, Alys. i'm not going to change my mind.'

[OUTGOING] 'i'm tired of us getting in the way of better things. better relationships.'

[OUTGOING] 'have fun with the stark kid, i hope you don't fuck that up.'

He waited for you to finish reading and look back at him. "I blocked her too."

[incorrectquotesconaisseur]

I see a lot of discourse abt whether or not dhawan master comes before or after missy even though it's canon that he comes after. and it DOES make sense narratively speaking if you think about it. the master is naturally unhinged- just because missy seemed more in control than other regenerations doesn't mean it wasn't true. and even if her redemption did occur at the end, she started down this path to redeem herself because of selfish reasons. you can't put any iteration of the master in a box bc they're such a wonderfully complex character. and I think that the pain of the timeless child arc, combined with the trauma of the time lords planting the drums in their head AND missy's ultimately futile quest for redemption were what added up to the untamed anger that defined dhawan master. it's all the hurt of his previous regenerates PLUS his new trauma. missy never properly dealt with what happened with simm master - she just tried to move on as swiftly as possible and then there was the whole fiasco of them meeting and disturbing the timeline.

so it makes a lot of sense for dhawan master to come after missy.

HOWEVER, I think so many people tend to forget that -

Missy comes after Simm master.

Simm master was a psychopath (my absolute fave babygirl, but a psychopath nonetheless). And all of his existence was centered around a centuries old hurt that grew and grew until it was unbearable - the abandonment issues, the fear, the rage and the insanity that set him off on a path of destruction that wasn't even 100% his fault.

But his arc is honestly one of the best ones in nu who if you ask me - all the evil things he did in s3, all intertwined with brief moments of gentleness and acid pain when allowing himself to talk to the doctor openly... his death scene (which can even be discussed as religious penance but that's another story)... and then in s4, his entire motivation being trying to get rid of the drums and find out what they are and what he is.

His arc culminates with him realising that the doctor DID choose him in the end - he didn't leave him again, he saved him. And in exchange, he saves the doctor and sacrifices himself in the process.

So, especially since he doesn't remember his regeneration into missy fully and so his actual final moments are fuzzy, simm master essentially regenerates after his final act was to save the doctor.

That desire to more or less do right by him and keep that feeling of "us against the world" that they had in EoT is what motivates missy. Missy, who strives her entire life to be the doctor's friend again.

It all came from simm master's arc.

Which honestly breaks my heart and makes me claw at walls and no one ever talks about it.

[piratefalls]

once again a mix of oldies, goodies, and oldies but goodies, because apparently my brain decided to start treating fic the way i do books: collect them and forget to read them.

masterlist.

all we are is skin and bones by IndestructibleHeart

Alex didn't plan to push Henry Fox into oncoming traffic.

Amigos y Migas by floatingaway4

“Christ, how is this so good? It’s like magic and science and...and I don’t even know what else.” Henry moans as he swallows another bite. “How the fuck does he do this? And how does he do it in a truck the size of our walk-in freezer?” Pez leans back against the wall. “Are you eating that or getting turned on by it, Henners?” Henry rolls his eyes, even as he tries to glare at his head sommelier. “Can’t I do both?” The sauce drips down his wrist and he shamelessly licks it off.

silk and steel by teacupivy

Thanks to a welcome day off, Henry and Alex spend a lazy morning in bed. Soft, mid-morning cuddles escalate into semi-soft, mid-morning sex.

Never Truly Leave by clottedcreamfudge

"We found something in Arthur's things," Catherine says, without any preamble. "I've never really... gone through his personal effects properly, until now. It's been rather too difficult for me to face." Alex nods. ... "I found something for Henry, but it's... Well, it's actually for you." Alex blinks at her.

Date night (it's a tie) by TheAmberFox

“So here’s what’s going to happen, sweetheart. I want you to strip out of these clothes and get on the bed, so I can tie you to our headboard with both our stupidly boring ties and make you come until you can’t any more. Would you be amiable?”

religion's in your lips (even if it's a false god) by coffeecatsme

“You seriously never heard of Henry?” Alex feels defensive. “Should I have?” he asks, and the guy stares at him for another second before a laugh escapes his lips. “Well, rumor has it he’s turned multiple people here gay.” Or, 5 times Henry brings a guy home and 1 time he doesn't have to. Or, Henry is a rumored sex god, Alex is his roommate, and he's jealous of everyone Henry brings through the front door.

Race You to Forever by allmylovesatonce

Alex comes up with the perfect proposal idea: He and Henry should compete for it. Henry is less than enthused, but agrees anyway. Neither of them could predict the strange things that happen when they're competing for who gets to propose to the other.

a rich and complex tapestry by everwitch

When Alex first hooks up with Henry, he's expecting a fun one-night-stand and maybe the occasional booty call. He does not expect to get so completely pulled into Henry’s orbit that it forces him to reevaluate everything he thought he knew about his sexuality. And he's not sure if it makes it better, or way worse, that Henry is actually a professional at all this stuff — what are the odds that Alex would hook up with the one guy on campus who hosts his own radio show about sex? 'Sleeping With Henry' is about to gain one devoted listener.

I fall to pieces when I'm with you by viciouslyqueer

If once is an accident, and twice is a coincidence, when it happens a third time Henry really starts to think about it. — Three times Alex doesn't want Henry to touch him and one time he understands why.

I must tell you what you will not ask by lizzie_bennetdarcy

Henry's lower lip wobbles, and a fresh tear rolls down his cheek. Alex watches it track down to his chin, and wonders if Henry would mind him wiping it away. “I really was looking forward to seeing them.” Another tear escapes, and this time Alex can't help but lean forward and brush it away with his thumb. Henry's breath catches, and he looks at Alex, wearing an expression he can't quite parse. “Come home with me,” Alex blurts out. Henry's plans for Christmas fall through, so Alex invites him home for the holidays. They're best friends, strictly platonic roommates, so why does everyone think they're dating?

love me long, be my sunlight by weather_stained

“What is it, then?” Henry asks. Alex glances up at him, and there’s laughter in his big brown eyes. “It’s porn,” he says gleefully. “In your handwriting.” While unpacking their office together, Alex comes across some very explicit Star Wars fanfiction written by none other than HRH Prince Henry himself.

we might just get away with it by smc_27

Henry is the most gorgeous man Alex has ever seen. And Alex has seen a lot of gorgeous men. He’s a fucking model. “This is Henry Fox-Mountchristen,” Prada’s current PR lead says, and Alex smiles and pushes his hand out. “He’s a journalist covering the merger.” Alex doesn’t know what merger or what it would have to do with Paris Fashion Week. But he does know that Henry holding a glass of champagne as he shakes Alex’s hand is maybe the sexiest thing ever, and there is just no explanation for that. “Hi. I’m Alex.” Henry says, “I know,” and then does this weird, forced smile at Bianca and walks away. Alex doesn’t know how to like, not be completely obsessed with things he wants. OR, Alex is a model. Henry is a journalist, and a bit of an asshole. Alex wants him anyway, even when it doesn’t feel good.

Someone Special by bleedingballroomfloor

"That was Shaan," Henry explains as Alex snuggles closer to him, pressing his nose to his neck. "The blizzard hit early, apparently. Too risky to fly." "So Christmas here?" Alex says in that sleepy drawl of his that Henry will never get tired of. "Fuckin' sweet."

Because I'm A Scoundrel by inexplicablymine

Alex Claremont-Diaz has exactly thirty minutes to make himself look as slutty as possible for this Halloween Gala. At this very moment he looks a little bit like a sexed up pirate, but with the addition of his small black vest - rest in peace to the Patagonia packers and finance brethren- and a low slung belt with a “blaster,” a very sex-on-legs Han Solo is looking back at him. Henry Fox, who is both a double scull rower with enough Olympic medals it would make anyone other than Alex sweat, and the definitive arch nemesis of Alex - is wearing a white sylvette Princess Leia costume, hugging his curves in all the right ways, the clingy fabric draping to the floor. When you and your arch nemesis show up to the most important gala of the year in a couples costume you either play it up or shut it down. Alex has a decision to make, but the way that dress is hugging Henry’s ass isn’t making that decision any easier.

the super sick(s) by cricketnationrise

Super Six snowed in at the brownstone.

two is better than one by rizcriz

Henry swallows. “You were going to propose to me tonight?” Alex nods. “I still am,” He says, throwing his hands out at his sides. “If I can find the damn ring.” “Right. But,” Henry reaches into his pocket and pulls the ring out of his pocket that he’d quite literally just picked up from the jeweler. “I was going to propose to you tonight.” He holds the ring box up between them. -- Or, Alex and Henry both want to propose.

every tale condemns me for a villain by tintagel

Alex Diaz is one of the worst villains to have come out of reality TV in a while. Just Henry's luck that he's doing a signing for his new autobiography at the bookshop. But it's tough to hate someone when you only see what's been edited together.

Oxidation by Thee_Maxwell

“Well, Alex–” and yep. Yeah. Yeah. His name sounds as nice in Henry’s mouth as he hoped it would. His vowels are open, wide, but he doesn’t hesitate when saying it. It comes out like he knows Alex, like he’s known Alex. He goes a little warmer at the thought, and if he were doing anything other than flirting with a very pretty boy, Alex would blame it solely on the alcohol. “–I’ve got to ask. Is there more to the getup?” That catches him off-guard, and he’s not entirely sure what Henry means, so he tilts his head like a dog watching something that interests him. Henry huffs out a laugh, but clarifies, “Perhaps I’m mistaken. The uh, the hanky. Cowboy, yeah?”

blushing ears and bleeding hearts by kill8a

The man is gorgeous. Like, objectively. Long legs and wide shoulders and wavy blonde hair, cheekbones sculpted from marble, black pressed slacks and a robin egg blue button down, expensive loafers on his feet and a nametag pinned on his shirt… Alex doesn’t understand how someone can walk out of the house and just look like that. or, alex meets henry while studying in the library and is immediately interested

when you know, you know by vibrantsaturn

With shaky hands, Henry pulls out the ring from the box, looking at Alex with tearful eyes that he adores so much. Asks, "Alex, darling, will you marry me?" Alex lets out a watery laugh, swiping an arm across his face to get rid of the rapidly falling tears. He kneels down to cup Henry's face and brushes his thumbs across his cheekbones softly. "Baby. Don't you remember?" Alex whispers, leaning their foreheads together. "We're already married."  or, Alex "marries" his best friend when he's six-years-old. It just takes some time for them to fall in love, but they get there.

if you take a life, do you know what you'll give? by anincompletelist

It would have been one thing had Alexander’s job description been simply to stay in his hotel room and operate the funds covertly, an exceedingly safe distance away from Henry and any of Le Chiffre’s men. As it is, they’d instructed Alex to play the part of Henry’s date for the night, subsequently granting him the access he’d need to the private cardroom within the casino in order to report back to headquarters the funds needed in the precise moment Henry would need them. It's too dangerous, and he knows it. Henry's had a lot of blood on his hands in this life, but he refuses to have Alex's as well.

Got a will to win and a Cheshire grin by @kiwiana-writes

Please find attached the list of collective bargaining agreement breaches reported by the Sports and Recreation Floor in December. As the designated union representative, it is my responsibility to ensure that the rights and interests of our members are protected and upheld, even (or maybe especially) during our busiest time of year. In accordance with the grievance procedure outlined in our collective bargaining agreement, we request that Santa’s Workshop takes immediate corrective action to remedy these breaches. Please set up a meeting at your earliest convenience to discuss these issues further and explore appropriate resolutions. Thank you for your immediate attention to this matter.

You're the Perfect Gift for Me by chamel

“Twenty-one-year-old Scotch,” the man says with a low whistle, looking more impressed than anything else. “Special occasion or just expensive taste?” Alex can’t stop his grimace. “Came up here to propose,” he says, even though this random stranger doesn’t need to hear his woes. “Found out my girlfriend’s getting back together with her high school sweetheart.” “Ouch,” the man replies, the word sounding slightly absurd in his rounded, posh accent. He looks at the bartender. “Leave the bottle.” (Dumped two days before Christmas by his girlfriend, Alex meets a British writer who's spending Christmas on his own in generic Tiny Town, USA, and together they discover something new to celebrate.)

the clementine thing by saintlynomenclature

And, really, it doesn’t matter whether or not Alex explains it to Liam and the rest of his friends. They’ve never really discussed it between themselves through the years. Slowly, Alex had gone from asking Would you please peel this for me? to Please? to silently extending the citrus without any comment at all, just a soft smile. It’s one of the things that make them Alex-and-Henry; the silent conversations and the contentment in each other’s company. Now, as Alex starts to flourish through his position on the lacrosse team, his slew of AP classes, and his role in student government, getting him to slow down at all is a feat. The only way that Henry can do it, guaranteed, is by one of those innocuous little fruits. There’s nothing Alex can’t do—surely, he could peel a fucking orange if he felt so inclined—but Henry delights in being able to do this for him. - Five times Henry shares a clementine with Alex, and one time Alex returns the favor

You're So Attractive; How Did That Happen by @sparklepocalypse

Henry is a big man. He’s tall — taller than either of his siblings and most of his cousins. His shoulders are broad. Years on horseback have helped him develop decent muscle mass. So when Alex storms into his life like a beautiful, infuriating tornado, Henry fully expects to continue feeling big. But Alex has ways of making Henry feel small, cherished, even precious. (Or, three things about Alex that make Henry feel wonderfully small, and one thing that doesn't.)

as always, if you want me to tag you for whatever reason just let me know. see you next week!

@starkfridays @stilesgivesmefeels

[guccifrog]

MEDDLE ABOUT P2

band!chris sturniolo X reader

warnings: swearing/ band chris

ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵐʸ ᵒʳⁱᵍⁱⁿᵃˡ ʷᵒʳᵏ// ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡ ᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵖʸ

˚ ༘ ·˚꒰Meddle about-chase atlantic꒱ ₊˚ˑ

1:35 ━━━●───── 3:47

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

ᵂᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵐᵉᵗ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵈᵃʸ

ᴮᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˡʳᵉᵃᵈʸ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵐᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʸᵖᵉ ᵒᶠ ʷᵃʸ

part1

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

y/n's pov

The air was cool, as the first rays of the sun crept over the horizon. The streets were quiet, except for the occasional car that hummed past me, its headlights painting the concrete in shades of amber and gold. I found myself walking back to my apartment, lost in thought.

The walk usually took me no more than thirty minutes, but today it felt like hours. My mind was elsewhere, replaying the events of the night over and over again.

I finally reached my apartment building, walking up the steps to the entrance. The doorman, nodded in my direction as I passed by. He'd seen me come home in worse shape before, but he never asked questions. That was just the way it was here.

As I inserted my key into the lock, I heard someone clear their throat behind me. Startled, I whipped around to see who it was. To my surprise, it was the owner of the apartment complex, she was an elderly woman who had been living here since before I was born. She was also the most greedy, selfish, and uncaring person I had ever met.

"Ah, good morning dear," she said with a forced smile. "I hope you don't mind me catching you here. I was wondering if I could have a word with you about your rent. You know, we've been having some trouble with it lately."

I felt my blood boil at her words. Of course, she wanted to talk to me about my rent. She always found a way to bring it up, like it was somehow my fault that she had to charge so much to keep her shit running. "Mrs.Brown," I said, trying to keep my voice calm, "I've already told you, I'm doing the best I can, and things are tight right now. I can't afford any more increases."

Her face twisted into a mask of false concern. "Oh, dear, I know it must be difficult for you. But you see, the maintenance costs have gone up, and I'm afraid I'll have to find another renter to fill the vacancy if you can't keep up with your payments. You understand, don't you?" She gestured behind her as if to hint that there were dozens of people waiting in line to take my place.

I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to throw something at her. "I understand," I bit out through gritted teeth, before turning around to open my apartment door.

"have a good day-" she started, but I cut her off by slamming the door in her face. I stood there for a moment, taking deep breaths as my heart rate slowly returned to normal.

Once I regained my composure, I made my way to my room, collapsing onto my bed. I stared up at the ceiling, feeling defeated and exhausted. My mind was spinning, too much shit was going on, and I didn't know how much more I could take. I closed my eyes, trying to sleep, but the thoughts kept racing through my head.

Sometime later, I heard a soft knock on my door. It was probably Olivia, my roommate. I sighed and rolled over, forcing myself to sit up. "Come in," I called out, not bothering to hide the exhaustion in my voice.

The door opened and Olivia poked her head in. "Hey, you okay?" she asked, her voice concerned. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. She must have seen through my lie because she came in and sat down on the edge of my bed. " I'm sorry about yesterday," she said softly." he called so suddenly, I didn't know what to do…"

I turned to look at her. "It's okay Liv I don't mind really- And oh my god girl, guess who I bumped into today?" I asked her, trying to change the subject. She raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Mrs. Brown, she was here too, she wanted to talk about my rent again," I told her, feeling a little bitter. Olivia let out a sigh and nodded.

"We really need to move out of here, It's not fair that she keeps pressuring us like this," she said as she put her arm around me. "I'm sorry I've been kinda distant lately, I've just been trying to figure things out." I put my arm around her back and gave her a small squeeze. "It's alright, I know you've got your own stuff going on."

I glanced around my room, at all the posters and pictures I had put up on the walls. It was the only place that felt close to home. "I don't know what I'm going to do if I can't stay here," I said softly, more to myself than to her. "I mean, I could try finding another job, but with my schedule…"

Olivia gave my arm a gentle squeeze. "We'll figure something out, you know that. We can start by looking for a new place together. I'm sure there are other apartments out there that are more affordable and less of a nightmare." She leaned back, her head resting on her hand.

"by the way, we're invited to a party this Friday," Olivia said, perking up. I raised my eyebrow at her "We?" I asked.

"Yes, we and I don't want to hear any excuses about not wanting to go out. You need to have some fun, even if it's just for one night. I mean when was the last time you went to a party ?" She asked with a pout.

I couldn't remember the last time I had gone out and just let loose, maybe yesterday at the concert but I don't think that counts. It had been forever. And I needed a distraction from all my problems. "Alright, alright, I'll go," I said with a sigh. "Who's throwing the party?"

"One of my boyfriend's friends. It's at his place, should be fun." Olivia grinned. I groaned, rolling my eyes, but she didn't seem to notice. "Anyway, I have to go get ready for work" With that, she leaned in and kissed my cheek before heading out of the room.

I lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling again. The lack of sleep from the past few days was starting to catch up with me. I groaned and closed my eyes, trying to decide if I really wanted to go to this party or not. Olivia was right, I needed a break, but I had too much on my mind.

chris's pov

I was sure I was going insane. She's been on my mind non-stop since we parted ways. Her face, her voice, the way she laughed…it's all carved into my memory.

I want to see her again, but at the same time, I'm intimidated by her. She's out of my league, I know that for a fact.

I couldn't help but wonder what she was doing now. Was she still outside? Did she meet someone else? Or was she already back home, tucked into bed, dreaming of whatever it is that she dreams about? I wish I knew. I wish I could just figure out a way to see her again, to talk to her, and to find out more about her.

Fuck I couldn't stop thinking about her.

"Chris!" Matt, who was driving, snapped his fingers in front of my face." are you even listening to me?" he asked. I blinked a few times, trying to focus on his words. "what are thinking about? You've been spacing out a lot for the past two hours"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. I knew I had to tell him eventually, me and Matt never hide anything from each other, it's always been like this. but I wasn't really in the mood to talk about it right now.

"It's nothing, man," I said, forcing a laugh. "I'm just thinking about the girl we met tonight. You know, she was…really cool, and we hit it off pretty well."

Matt arched an eyebrow, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Oh yeah? You're finally getting interested in the ladies again, huh?"

"Matt" I started, but he cut me off quickly " Chris" I sighed.

"Matt please I don't want to talk about this again" I looked out of the window, staring at the passing cars as we drove along the road.

"You have to Chris, you need to leave what happened in the past in the past. You can't just dwell on it forever " Matt said and I turned to look at him confused. " I told you I moved on a long time ago, what are you talking about?" I asked. He sighed, shaking his head.

"Chris you're my brother and I know you better than anyone, but you have to accept the fact that you're not over it yet. You can't keep denying it. You've been acting weird for months now, and I think it's time we face the truth." Matt paused for a moment, searching for the right words. "Look, I get it, she was everything. I mean, who else could make you feel like this after all this time? But you can't keep running away from your feelings. You need to confront them, deal with them, and then move on."

I didn't say anything, just kept staring out the window. I knew he was right, but it was easier said than done. Part of me wanted to accept the truth and face my feelings head-on. But another part of me was terrified of losing control, of being hurt again and failing once more. I didn't know how to handle this, or what to do.

Matt reached over, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I'm sure you'll figure it out with time, just don't rush things, okay?" I nodded, still looking out the window, unable to meet his gaze. I knew he was trying to help me, but sometimes his advice felt more like a burden. It was like he expected me to just magically get over it when in reality, it wasn't that simple.

"Anyways," he continued, changing the subject, which I secretly thanked him for "I was asking earlier if you want to go to Lucas's party this Friday. It's supposed to be a pretty big thing or whatever, and we haven't hung out with him in a while. You in?" I nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, sure." It would be a distraction, at least.

The rest of the ride home passed in silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts. As we pulled into the driveway, I couldn't help but wonder how things would have been different if I had never fucked things up in the first place. Would I be happier? Would my life have taken a different path?

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

lmk what you guys think ♡︎

taglist★

@mattestrella @littlebookworm803 @sturniolooooo @athaliahxoxo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @crybabycat1 @ducksturniolo @pepsiimaxx @ilovemattsworld @secret-sturniolo @fuckshitslover @lvr-111 @opheliaofficial07 @chrislapdog @therealcody1 @rodysuntiedtie @kiarastromboli @sturnsgasoline @sunsetmill @strniololoverr @sleepysturnss @st7rnioioss

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

What do you think M6’s answers would be to the question “is it better to feel all the pain or nothing at all?” I haven’t played all the routes so I can’t answer for everyone but I think

Julian -feel it all

Asra -nothing

Muriel -at the start of his route nothing but as he grows as a character it would shift slowly to feel it all

Portia -feel it all

I’d also love to hear your answer if you’re comfortable with that! As someone who’s felt both my answer is nothing bc in my experience the numbness allows you to still function. Even if the life you’re experiencing isn’t as full as it could be, you still get to experience it. When I become so overwhelmed by Everything I completely shut down and cease to be a person. I am my emotions. And I think in Asra’s route this kinda gets explored in that they choose to not feel as deeply ever again bc a muted life with MC is better than a full one without them. Anyway can you tell I recently reread The Giver lol

Woah, that's a good question friend!!

To be completely honest, I think all the M6 progress from the "numb" to the "willing to feel everything" point throughout their routes - as is the case for many people who are in the healing process! (essay below the cut)

Julian, while fully embracing the misery of his situation, is also running from the part of him that wants a happy ending. Meeting the MC is his slow journey of self-acceptance, realizing that his happiness is valuable and worth fighting for. He stops choosing one feeling to drown out all the others and starts feeling everything in a context of loving and being loved.

Asra's in a similar situation. They don't see giving up half their heart as something to regret, but they still talk about the reduced ability to be attached to people as a loss. Reconnecting with MC, being able to slowly bring down the walls that used to facilitate a drifting, untethered survival mode, allows him to start caring more about the people around him since he has a person to call home again.

When Nadia wakes up, she's lost. Seven years of memory have blipped out of view, she's responsible for a city she knows very little about, and the people who are supposed to help her are only getting in her way. She speaks of a similar numb state, being detached and uninvested in the world around her, until meeting MC and finding a way forward gives her what she needs to flourish again. We see a lot of that emotional progression in her reconnecting with her family.

Muriel is an almost textbook case of complex trauma and the myriad of coping mechanisms that arise from trying to escape it. I've written whole essays on the effects of his deal on that process before, but his journey with MC starts with him just wanting them to forget about him, and ends with him asking MC to help him collect the memories of himself and his people.

Portia isn't quite as much numb as she is stuck. From the moment her parents' ship wrecked, she's lived her life in the orbit of other people. First her older brother, then the children and grandmas of Nevivon, then her older brother again, now the Countess - it isn't until she begins to receive that same attention from MC that she starts to really own herself and discover the true depth of her capacity. While we never see her choosing to be numb, we do see her hesitating to come fully into her own. With MC's empowerment, that's exactly what she ends up being able to do.

And finally, Lucio - he's literally numb. He's spent the last three years trapped between realms in a ghostly form that won't let him feel anything at all beyond hunger. While MC is instrumental in returning him the capacity to feel, it's Lucio's own choice to take advantage of that as a fresh start.