#it’s always going to be her I will always choose her

[leahrintarou]

Hey this might sound weird but I’ll do my best to explain could you do a suna fix where he works for you dad working on cars together at you family owned garage that is on you property and you two secretly like talk and other stuff ;)

✩₊˚.⋆ DENIAL - suna rintarou

CW: swearing, make out sesh (suggestive maybe), petname "angel" used, y/n is in denial, suna is in love. he's a tease, reader uses she/her, i love this man oml Word Count: 2.3k Author's Note: DOESNT SOUND WEIRD AT ALL, ANON! i hope you enjoy :). ty for reading. make sure to send in a request if you ever have any ideas that you want me to write <3

y/n wiped sweat from her brow, leaving behind a stripe of grease residue. she was currently working at the family owned car shop that he dad has been around ever since she was a child. the second she was able to gold things on her own, she's been by her dad's side helping him every chance she got. she loved it and couldn't imagine a better lifestyle.

however, there was a catch that came in the form of suna rintarou. he stood a few feet away from her, finishing up the final touches on one of the cars that was recently dropped off at the shop for a maintenance check. a lazy smirk was on his lips when y/n's eyes caught his figure.

"its rude to stare, y/n."

y/n was tempted to throw the tool in her hand directly at him but thought twice, opposing from the idea. "i rather stare at a wall. don't flatter yourself." she rolled her eyes. that might've been a lie and might've been the truth. suna was attractive, that she could confidently say about him. however, she would often catch herself admiring him way too often.

how his bottom lip always tucked between his teeth as he was focused, his lazy and low-lidded gaze that would intimidate any customer that showed up, hence the reason why he called y/n over anytime assistance was needed.

"all you have to do is give them a little smile, dude."

"why would i smile at a stranger who expects me to charge them a penny for a week's worth of work?"

suna chuckled at y/n's words. he was dressed in loose fitting jeans that were stained with oil. his hoodie matched that oil stained design and somehow, he was still able to make it appear to look like something out of a fashion magazine.

"right, sure." he shook his head, leaning against the car after shutting it's hood. "you know the more you deny it, the more i know that you like me, right?"

"me liking you? your cockiness makes me sick." she shook her head. "if i had to choose between you and oil spill, id pick the oil."

suna didn't miss a beat. "you say that now, but it sounds like you'd enjoy getting dirty here with me."

her pulse quickened, and she cursed herself for reacting. he always did this-teased her just enough to make her flustered, but not enough to cross a line. he'd been working here for months now, and ever since he'd started, it had been a constant back-and-forth between them.

she liked to pretend he annoyed her, but he had this frustrating ability to crawl under her skin and make her feel things she didn't want to admit. her dad was in the back, probably fixing some engine part, leaving her alone with suna in the main garage. she grabbed a rag and wiped her hands, desperate for a distraction.

"you got something to say, or are you just going to stand there grinning like an idiot all day?" she muttered, turning her attention to the car in front of her. "hey, i'm actually working here," suna said with mock innocence as he bent under the hood of a car. "just trying to keep this place running smoothly. you should thank me, y'know? without me, your dad would be way more stressed."

she rolled her eyes. "you're delusional. dad could run this place fine without you. suna's eyes flicked up to meet hers from under the hood, a mischievous glint in them. "maybe, but it's more fun having me around, isn't it?"

her face heated up again, and she cursed under her breath. how did he always manage to get under her skin like this? "you're lucky you're good with cars," she muttered, pretending to focus on the engine. "otherwise, you'd be out of here."

"i’ll take that as a compliment," he said, standing up and stretching, his hoodie riding up just enough for her to catch a glimpse of his toned stomach. he smirked when he noticed her staring. "like what you see?"

she scowled and threw the rag at him, which he caught effortlessly. "you wish, suna."

"yeah, i do," he shot back, leaning closer. his voice dropped, teasing, but softer. "come on, y/n. you can’t pretend you don’t like me forever."

she swallowed, not trusting herself to speak. she hated how easily he could fluster her, how he always knew exactly what to say to make her heart race. but he was also frustratingly right. as much as she tried to ignore it, there was something about him that drew her in. the teasing, the flirting, the way he always seemed so calm and collected, like nothing ever rattled him—it was annoyingly attractive.

"i can try," she muttered, turning her back to him.

he chuckled again, but it was softer this time, more genuine. "you’re fun to mess with, you know that?"

"glad i could be your entertainment," she deadpanned.

"you make it too easy," he said, leaning against the car again, watching her. his gaze was heavy, and it made her skin tingle. "but seriously, y/n. you’re not fooling anyone. i know you like me."

she huffed in frustration, finally turning to face him. "what makes you so sure?"

suna’s grin widened. "because if you really hated me, you wouldn’t let me get away with half the stuff i say to you. and you wouldn’t get all flustered every time i do this—"

his thumb met with the area just above her eyebrow, wiping away the smudge of grease. her breath hitched, and she cursed herself for reacting. his eyes locked onto hers, and for a second, the playful teasing was gone, replaced by something deeper, something that made her stomach flip.

she slapped his hand away, even though her heart was beating out of her chest. "you’re so full of yourself."

"maybe," he said, his voice low. "but that doesn’t mean i’m wrong."

she hated how right he was. she hated how he made her heart race, how he always seemed to know exactly what buttons to press. but more than anything, she hated that she kind of liked it. before she could respond, her dad’s voice called out from the back of the garage. "y/n! suna! i need a hand back here."

she jumped at the sound, grateful for the interruption. quickly wiping her hands in a rag, she turned toward the back. "coming!"

suna followed her, his presence a little too close for comfort. as they approached the back where her dad was working on a stubborn engine, she tried to shake off the lingering tension. but suna, of course, wasn’t about to let it go.

"hey, y/n," he whispered as they walked, his breath warm against her ear. "you never answered my question."

"what question?" she muttered, refusing to look at him.

he leaned even closer, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke. "do you like what you see?"

instead of answering, she clenched her jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response, and settled on throwing her elbow back to meet with his abdomen. he caught it just in time and pulled her back to him.

"that's not nice, angel."

"oh, fuck off."

---

hours later, after her dad had gone home and the sun was setting outside, the garage was quiet. she and suna were the only ones left, finishing up the last of the work for the day. the silence between them was heavier now, the teasing from earlier still hanging in the air.

"you’re quiet," suna commented as he wiped down his tools. "something on your mind?"

"nope," she lied, trying to focus on organizing the wrenches on the wall.

suna smirked, walking over to her. he stood behind her, his presence looming, and she could feel the heat of him even though he wasn’t touching her. "still mad at me for making you flustered earlier?"

"i wasn’t flustered," she scoffed.

he chuckled, and she felt his breath on her neck. "sure you weren’t." she spun around, glaring at him. "what do you want, suna? why do you always have to mess with me?"

his smirk faded slightly, and for a moment, his expression softened. he stepped closer, and suddenly, she felt like there wasn’t enough air in the room.

"maybe i just like being around you," he said, his voice quieter now. "ever think of that?"

'well you make it hard for me to like being around you' she thought to herself.

y/n stared at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. this wasn’t the usual teasing suna; this was different. she opened her mouth to say something, but the words got stuck in her throat.

suna reached out, his fingers brushing her arm, sending a jolt of electricity through her. "you're killing me, y/n."

her heart pounded in her chest, and she hated that he was right. she hated that, despite all the teasing and banter, she actually liked him. more than she wanted to admit. "you’re insufferable," she muttered, but her voice lacked its usual bite.

suna’s lips twitched into a small smile, and he stepped even closer, closing the distance between them. "maybe. but you still like me."

she rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. "unfortunately."

suna grinned, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "knew it."

y/n barely had time to react before suna closed the space between them, his lips crashing against hers in a way that was both surprising and inevitable. there was nothing slow or gentle about it—it was hungry, desperate, like he’d been holding back for too long. her breath caught in her throat, but she didn’t pull away. instead, she found herself pushing into the kiss, gripping the front of his hoodie as if she needed to anchor herself to something real.

suna’s hands found her waist, fingers digging into her sides as he pulled her closer, pressing her back against the workbench. she sighed against his lips, her heart pounding so loud she was sure he could hear it. every nerve in her body felt like it was on fire, every touch of his lips against hers sending sparks down her spine.

he broke the kiss first, just enough to rest his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the heated space between them. his voice, usually full of teasing, was low and rough. “this is what you were in denial of for so long?”

y/n blinked up at him, her mind still spinning from the kiss, trying to find her words. “shut up—” but her voice came out breathless, and she hated how easily he unraveled her.

suna’s lips curved into a slight smirk, though there was something softer in his eyes now, something that made her chest tighten. “you’ve been pushing me away for so long,” he murmured, hands warm against her skin. “but i think you wanted this just as much as i did.”

“you’re wrong,” she tried to snap back, but the way her voice shook betrayed her. she hated that he was right, hated how much she wanted him, how much she had been pretending not to feel anything.

“yeah?” he whispered, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. “then tell me to stop.”

y/n opened her mouth, but no words came out. her mind was screaming at her to push him away, to tell him he was wrong, but her body wasn’t listening. instead, her fingers tightened in the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him closer. “i hate you,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

suna chuckled softly, leaning down to brush his lips against hers again. “you don’t hate me.”

this kiss was slower, more deliberate, like he was savoring the moment. y/n’s breath hitched as his hand slid up her back, pulling her flush against him. she could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat through his chest, matching the frantic rhythm of her own.

when they finally pulled apart, suna’s eyes were darker than she’d ever seen them, his smirk replaced by something more serious. “you can’t keep pretending you don’t feel anything,” he murmured, his voice soft but insistent.

y/n bit her lip, her heart still racing, her mind a mess of emotions. “and what if i don’t want to feel this?” she asked, her voice shaky.

suna’s gaze softened, and he reached up to cup her face, his thumb brushing gently over her cheek. “then stop lying to yourself,” he said quietly. “because i’m not going anywhere.”

her chest tightened at his words, the sincerity in them catching her off guard. she didn’t want to admit how much she cared, how much she had been holding back. but in this moment, with his lips inches from hers and his hand still resting on her cheek, it felt impossible to keep pretending.

without saying another word, she leaned in again, capturing his lips in a kiss that was softer this time, less rushed, but just as intense. she didn’t know what this meant, didn’t know what would happen after tonight. but right now, with suna’s arms around her and his lips against hers, none of that seemed to matter.

suna wiped his hands on a rag and tossed it aside, the sun casting an orange glow through the garage windows. the day had slowed down, leaving only the two of them, the steady hum of the shop’s quiet settling around them. he stretched lazily, catching y/n’s eyes on him for a split second.

“alright, i’m heading out,” he said, his voice smooth as always. his eyes lingered on her, softer than usual. “you need anything before i go?”

y/n shook her head, busying herself by wiping down a tool. “nah, i’m good.”

suna took a step toward the door, hesitating for a moment. the smirk on his face softened into something gentler. he gave her one last look before heading out.

“see you tomorrow, angel,” he called over his shoulder, his tone light, almost teasing.

y/n glanced up, catching his eyes just as he disappeared through the door, the sound of his voice leaving a warmth in the air even after he was gone.

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[starmocha]

I let the Demon (my muse) take over today. It was a rough day at the office 🫠 Gonna yap about a scenario that's been occupied in my head since 8 AM. It's time to evict her and let me live in peace again. (disclaimer: this is in no way related to the actual memory or even speculations about it. My mind just wandered into unsavory territory 😔) MDNI.

Just thinking about

How this Sylus is going to take you to his hut and just rut you

This is not love making, not even consummating a union, or even just casual fucking

It is feral. He is going to fuck you like an animal. He is going to breed you.

It is brutal, it is animalistic, and very possessive and wild. He wants you to know that you belong to him—his to have, his to take.

You are not leaving until you are thoroughly bred. This man's stamina and libido are high—he will keep you with him all night long. He won't let you rest for a minute and even if you do pass out, you will still wake up with his massive cock buried deep inside you.

He will have you crying and cumming on his cock so many times, your desperate pleas only spurring him on. You learn that his title of "Relentless Conqueror" does not apply only on the battlefield. It extends into his bedchamber.

By morning, you will be sore. There are bruises and love bites all over. He was not gentle in the slightest.

He had marked you all over, made it clear that you belong to him. This is a reminder to you, but a warning to others.

He is virile. You will get pregnant from this.

Be prepared. His babies are huge. He won't settle for just one child or two, or even three. He wants an army.

He will accept daughters, but he also wants sons.

You will bear big, strong future warriors. It is an honor bestowed only on you.

He is creating a dynasty. His lineage will carry on for centuries.

The only person worthy to stand by his side is you. He is aggressive and imposing, revered within the community and feared by enemies. In this world, the only one he will submit to will be you. The only one who will tame him will be you. The only one who will have his heart will be you.

The honor of being his is a title only carried by you. Likewise, he is yours, in this life and the next and the next and the next. For all of the lifetimes you have, he will always find you and choose you.

Only you—eternally yours.

[just-an-enby-lemon]

Fully choosing to interpret Athena going "Have you forgotten to turn off your heart? This is not you/ I see you changing from how I've designed you" as "what the fuck happened to my war crime guy? you were my favorite mortal because you were always up to discuss new unethical ideas" and so in my head her journey in the Wisdom saga goes:

- still misses her war crime friend.

- decides to go check on Ithaca.

- befriends Telemachus

- decides that since she befriended soft guy Tel she can actually try to get close to this new mercifull Odysseus.

- discovers Ody is back at being a horrible monster/chaos gremlim and is so relieved he is back that admits to herself they are friends

- goes save him so they can discuss how to violently destroy the suitors and maybe some inocent ppl as well but like in fun inovative ways

[annwrites]

trick or treat one-shot collection.

— pairing: jacaerys velaryon x twin!reader

— type: modern!au | (part of a collection)

— summary: you & jace watch a scary movie together in private.

— word count: 901

— tags: twincest, ass-grabbing, fondling, fingering, nipple-play, masturbation, french kissing

— tagging list: @emilynissangtr @aemondwhoresworld @cecestea

You’ve just finished loading the dishwasher when Jace pads into the kitchen and retrieves the orange juice from the fridge, taking a swig directly from the bottle.

You scoff, coming to stand in front of him. “That’s so gross, Jace. We all drink from that. Why don’t you use a cup?”

He slides it back onto the shelf, shutting the stainless-steel door before leaning back against a counter, smirking at you.

“You think me shoving my mouth onto that is gross?”

You flush, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“Just use a glass next time,” you reply quietly.

You turn to head back to your room, until Jace grabs your ass, causing you to squeak in surprise.

You swing around, lightly slapping his hand, and he grins.

“What if mom or dad see?” You hiss, barely above a whisper.

He shrugs. “I’m sure one of them would understand. There’s always been those rumors about mom and great-uncle Daemon from when she was around our age.”

You take a step closer, narrowing your eyes at him. “Exactly: rumors. What do you think they’d do if they found out that we’ve been—”

He slides a hand down your arm, interrupting you. “Find out we’ve what? Like neither of them have ever walked in before,” he says sarcastically.

You throw your head back, groaning. “Not since we were little. So, at the time, that was the excuse.”

You level your gaze again. “That we were just young, confused, and experimenting. So we didn’t know it was ‘wrong’.”

Jace takes your hand, twines his fingers between yours, and he leads you back to his bedroom—past the living room where your mom is folding laundry and Joffrey is sitting on the floor watching Bluey.

Luke is currently outside playing while your dad works on the family car.

“Because it wasn’t,” he finally whispers, guiding you down the hall.

Jace shuts his bedroom door behind the two of you and he turns his TV on.

You sit back on the futon pushed against the opposite wall of his room, watching out the window as golden-brown leaves drift down.

“Do you want to stream something, or watch a DVD or blu-ray?” He asks, grabbing the remote from his bedside table.

You shrug. “You choose.”

He sits down beside you then, opening Netflix.

Half-an-hour later finds Jace lying on his back with you half on-top of him and your face half-hidden against his chest.

“Why’d you have to pick a scary one?” You whine, peeking at the flat-screen from between your fingers.

He slides a hand up your shirt, gently toying with your breast. “So I can do this.”

You roll your eyes. “You can do that without giving me nightmares.”

His lip twitches. “Well, at least this way I’ll get to have you crawling into my bed halfway through the night.”

You lightly shake your head, then gasp quietly. “Oh God, why’d she go in the closet? It’s going to find her!”

Jace snorts, so you pinch his nose in retribution.

“It’s not funny!”

He shifts underneath you then—his erection pressing firmly against your stomach, causing a pleasant warmth to bloom between your thighs. “I think it’s hilarious.”

You slide your hand under his shirt and he hums in interest…until you twist his nipple.

“Ow! Really?” He asks, turning to glare at you.

You then press your lips to his, nodding with a smile. “Mhm.”

He wraps his arms around you then, before turning the two of you until his body is lying wholly on top of your own.

You spread your legs so his pelvis can rest comfortably between them.

You sigh as Jace nips his way down your neck, flicking his tongue against your sensitive skin, and you moan, grinding your hips against his erection, and your twin quietly curses.

You roll your head to the side, looking back to the TV, and your eyes widen. “Jace, I hate this movie. Why’d you—”

You promptly shut your mouth when you feel him tugging your shorts off, choosing to instead watch as he tosses them across the room before he slowly sinks his long fingers between your hot, wet folds.

“Why’d I what?” He asks, circling your clit with his thumb.

Your mind goes fuzzy, unable to concentrate on anything that isn’t Jace, Jace, Jace…

Your eyes flutter closed and you hum happily, smiling warmly at the feel of him. “Nevermind.”

He pushes your—rather, his—t-shirt up, exposing your perfect breasts, and he dips his head, his matching brown curls to your own tickling your skin as he begins to lap at your nipples, gently sucking and rolling them between his teeth while he continues to slowly finger you.

He lifts his head, glancing back to the TV while he slips his free hand under the waistband of his boxers beneath his sweatpants—stroking himself.

“Maybe we’ll watch The Exorcist next,” he says with a grin.

You stare up at him from beneath hooded lids. “I didn’t sleep for two nights last year when you made me watch that one.”

He leans down, brushing his lips over yours. “And think of all the fun we had not sleeping.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, easing your tongue into his mouth, not having a reply, since you know he’s so very right.

It had been a lot of fun.

Everything always is with your twin brother.

[specss00]

ALTERHUMAN SLANG DICTIONARY

MAMMALIAN

Got on my back paws - got on my hands and knees. Like how animals can stand up as a trick.

ex: yeah, i really wanted that necklace, i had to get on my back legs so she would get it for me.

Showing fang - standing up for yourself/being assertive. 

ex:  he’s really tough, and he’ll show fang at just about anything.

White eye - going crazy/really scared. Like how animals show the whites of their eyes when very agitated.

ex: haha, i saw how scared you were during that movie, you went all white eye at the end!

Howling at the sun[wolf/werewolf] doing something completely ridiculously/incorrect

Ex: dude did you see how that movie ended? Mc was really howling at the sun

Could hear someone purring[cat, any other purring animal]  noticeably becoming relaxed around someone/something

Ex: I saw you with your new plush yesterday, I could really hear you purring

Treetop chaser - (herbivorous) someone who chases unattainable things.

ex: they’re way out of your league, don’t be a treetop chaser

Bellycrawler - someone overly submissive.

ex - you have to stand up for yourself, don’t be a bellycrawler and let them take advantage of you.

Downy - young, referring to the soft fur of young animals. 

ex - she shouldn’t be out til midnight, she’s still downy!

Sit on your wag - means the same thing as swallow your smile.

ex - i got accepted into college, but my sister wasn’t, so i had to sit on my wag.

Go for the ruff - do something harmless/gently.

ex - the shirt was really ugly, but i went for the ruff so i didn’t hurt his feelings.

Flea - an insult meaning antikin, or a bigot in general.

ex - oh, you have him in your class? Be careful, he’s a total flea.

AQUATIC

Riptide Rider - (aquatic) someone who lives dangerously.

ex: stay away from her, she’s a riptide rider, you’re bound to get hurt.

Current crazy - someone who just follows other people, same as flock brain

ex: my brother joined the football team, and now he’s all current crazy.

Bottomfeeder - an insult for a low-class being.

ex - the boys at my school are such bottomfeeders, they make all the girls uncomfortable.

Floater - an insult for a superior or snobby person.

ex - ugh, they’re such a floater. They brag about their promotions ALL THE TIME.

Seen the whale fall - someone who is very experienced, now become a word for old among younger aquatics.

ex - my gramps has really seen the whale fall, he’s almost 95!

Play remora - like devil’s advocate, because remoras stick close to sharks.

ex - i don’t wanna play remora about this, but i think he was lying.

AVIAN

Flock brain - (avian) someone who can’t think for themselves. 

ex: ugh, she’s only hanging out with them now, she’s being a total flock brain.

A hummer with an eagle - (avian) someone who is clearly out of their depth.

ex: are you sure you can handle advanced classes? No offense, but you’ll be a hummer with the eagles.

Mantling over [smth] - [avian] being possessive, traditionally over food items 

Ex : Sarah is really mantling over that burger menu, I tried to take a fry and she almost bit my head off...

All preened up - [avian] well dressed, well groomed, the state of satisfaction and confidence that comes with A Good Look

Ex : Wow, Eric was all preened up this evening. I don't think I've ever saw him take this many selfies. 

And just for fun...

Going for the rattler - [roadrunner] choosing the hard or dangerous option, with expectation of either great fun or a great reward

Ex : "Huh, this park offers either a canyoning session over rapids or a day in the sun near the lake" "well I'm definitely going for the rattler" 

flare(s) my wings - (avian) makes me tense/nervous/angry 

"i don't like him, he always makes me flare my wings" 

makes my wings flutter - (avian) makes me happy/excited

"pasta always makes my wings flutter"

im pretty sure "ruffles my feathers" is a preexisting one

messy wings (with no time to preen) - (avian) having a bad day/stressed (and haven't had time to cool down)

"yeah today my wings are so messy and i haven't had time to preen"

Having a blood feather - [avian] being particularly irritable 

ex : Don't bother with this guy, he's been having a severe case of blood feathers. He'll jump at you for anything.

Riding the updraft - [flying creature] taking advantage of good opportunities, being lucky in life, having an easy time.

ex : I've been really riding the updraft recently ! Got both a promotion and a new car! 

Beak agape - [avian] furious, about to throw down.

ex : Jesus, this dude really left me beak agape. The audacity to say that !

Feeling clipped - [avian] feeling restless and anxious, like there's no way out

ex : Honestly these last few weeks have left me feeling clipped, between the news, and being dropped from my job. 

REPTILIAN

Makes my scales itch - (draconic) said about something unsettling or that just feels wrong deep down, a gut feeling that something's wrong

ex: We should get out of here. This place is making my scales itch.

Blow fire - (draconic) be extremely angry about something

ex: Did you hear what went down the other day? John was really blowing fire at Derek over that one.

Rattle someone's scales - (draconic) to unsettle or upset someone

ex: Can't stand that guy, he really rattles my scales. 

Cloudy day - (reptilian) usually used as a question, if someone is acting tired or unusual. Like how reptiles need the sun to stay warm, if it’s cloudy, they can’t warm up.

ex: woah, cloudy day? You look like you haven’t slept in months.

[chrisbesitos]

Okay heres another Ballerina!reader x Dealer!chris idea:

Reader is WORN OUT from recital practice, but cant rest until she gets that ONE specific part just right (totally not projecting) so shes working on it for HOURS at home (even with the bloody feet, belive me, its a regualr thing) and REFUSES to stop

idk if that makes any sense but yea

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀you're in love

( warnings: angst (a little bit), mentions of blood, cursing, fluff.

( synopsis: chris helps you when things get harder and you can't stop practicing your choreography for the recital.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ꒰͡⠀🩰 𝅄 💸⠀͡꒱

Perfectionism. You always were a perfectionist, at school, at university and at ballet. You have the urge to be perfect and thus fuck with your head, because you don't think you can stop until your good enough. Sometimes it seems like you never will be enough and this hurts, causes not only mentally bruises, but physically too.

Well, you're accustomed to this, because it's how your brain works. Even though the pain is killing you, consuming your feet and legs like a plague. Take a deep breath and keep going, that's what you always says.

It's been hours since you're trying to do a step of your choreography perfectly, but for some reason, you can't do it right. Well, not the way you want to do. Your phone buzzing on the floor takes your attention, almost making you fall in the middle of a pirouette, you groan as you lower down to grab. It was Chris, calling you for the fifth time.

"Damn, doll. I've been calling ya', where have you been?" Chris asks through the phone, you huffs opening the cap of the bottle, taking a few sips breathing hard. "What ya' doin'? I'm fishin' some deals, wanna eat something?"

"Thank you, baby, but now I can't." You reply, holding the phone with the shoulder against your ear. You shift your feet, feeling your fingers sore, you groan in pain. "Shit." You murmured.

"Ya' good, doll?" He asks, concerned about his girl. You nod, forgetting for a moment he's not seeing you.

"Yeah, I'm just practicing now." You bite your lower lip, you need to go back to your training. "Uh, baby, what about you brought us some food? I'll have finished when you arrive here."

"Fine, doll, mind if I choose?" You deny, so Chris okay it and turned off.

You finally could go back to your practice, now putting your phone on the mute. You can't stop more, not even for calls. Chris takes more than a half hour to arrive at your place, you didn't even notice when he gets in. The smell of fresh burgers makes your stomach groans, it's been hours since your last meal, but you didn't realize you were starving until now.

"You still doin' that shit? You said you'll be ready when I get home." He says, putting the bags on the kitchen table, he looks at the living room. The couch was out of his usual place, the tv paused on the song of your choreography and you.

You were kinda a mess. Your hair is tied in a messy bun, strands of hair sticking in your sweat forehead and your cheeks red.

"Did you get attacked by a rabid raccoon?" He chuckles, you roll your eyes ignoring him. Chris raised his eyebrows at her sassy behavior, sipping his soda. "Stop that shit, let's eat."

"In a few minutes, I need to finish this." You say, turning the music on again. Chris sits in the corner of the couch, watching you do your choreography. He smiles, he loves to watch you dance, your delicate movements and the way your body moves, drives he crazy. "Fuck!" You scream, visibly frustrated with your dance, Chris frowned his eyebrows, you were perfect for him. He rested his cup on the ground, lifting from the couch to move towards you.

"What's wrong, huh? You were perfect." Chris says, cupping your cheeks with his hands. Tears were pricking in your waterline from the frustration of failure, Chris sighs pulling you closer to his chest, caressing your back with his fingers. "You're doin' great, babydoll."

"I'm not perfect." You sob on his chest, Chris shakes his head moving you to the couch, he sits and puts you on his lap. He holds your chin, making you look at him with your tearing eyes. "If I stop now, I'll not be good enough." You say, trying to get out of his lap, to get back to your practice, but Chris holds your waist, holding you hard.

"You're good enough, doll. You're perfect f'me." Chris said, cleaning your tears with his thumbs. You sniff with a little pouty in the lips, Chris chuckles cupping your cheeks. "You're the best, babydoll." He kisses your nose.

"I don't feel like I am." You whisper, leaning your head to Chris shoulder, he sighs and massages your scalp. "I'm so tired, my feet hurt." You murmured.

"How about you stop for tonight? Tomorrow I can help you with this." He caresses your thighs through the pantyhose.

"You're gonna dance with me?" You ask, lifting your head with a smile on your lips and your eyes sparkling. You always ask Chris to dance with you, but he always denies.

"Of course no, ma." He rolls his eyes, shifting on the couch with you on his legs. You huff, crossing your arms on the chest, Chris laughed undoing the ribbon from the pointe shoe you were wearing. "I said that I'm gonna help you, not dance with you."

"You're so annoying." You say, removing the claw clip of your hair and putting it aside on the couch. Chris tugged off both of your pointe shoes, gently putting on the ground, he rubbed your feet and your fingers.

"I can leave with this." He shakes his shoulders. "Uh, doll? Your feet are bleeding, is that supposed to happen?" Chris asks with a concerned look at you, he frowns his eyebrows when you slightly nod.

"It happens sometimes, it's okay." You say, caressing his shoulder, you offer him a gentle smile, saying that's everything ok. He rubbed your legs, still worrying about your bloody feet.

"Let me take care of this, 'kay?" He kisses your jaw, gently putting you on the couch.

Chris cleaned the blood from your hurt feet, putting curatives on your fingers, he also put ice and massaged until the pain was gone. He didn't let you walk to the kitchen table, he brought the food to the couch and put on tv your favorite show, he makes sure you're comfortable and good. After finishing eating, he ran you a bath with your favorite products — he's favorite also, because he loves how you'll smell after shower — and he didn't let you move a finger, because he does all the work and you don't complain.

In your bedroom, laying on the bed and under the blanket with all of your stuffed animals on the floor, Chris caresses your thighs with his finger, kissing your lips passionately. Your hands resting on his chest, scratching a bit with your nails, a smile grows in your face when he breaks the kiss.

"You're really not gonna dance with me?" You ask, with a little pouty in your lips.

"Not doin' that shit, go to sleep." Chris says, rolling his blue eyes and lifting to turn the nightstand lamp off. The last sound in the room before the silence was the sound of your laugh, before Chris held your waist and pulled you closer.

he's just a boy in love (but he doesn't know lol) ;)

tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @deliciousluminaryanchor @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @strnlxlqve @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo @sophand4n4 @sturniololetstrip2

taglist | masterlist

[ashwhowrites]

Could you possibly do a part 2 of the pick me, choose me, love me fic that you did for Eddie x reader

I had a few people wanting a part 2 so I hope this will be a great ending for everyone!

Pick me, choose me, love me part 2

Y/N yawned as she opened her eyes. She was confused at first but then remembered where she was and why. She felt her stomach sink as she thought about Eddie. It killed her to know her best friend betrayed her and she felt sick at the thought that he knew how she felt for months and never said a thing.

She blinked away her tears as she felt a body moving next to her. She looked over her shoulder, letting out a small laugh as Steve's face was buried in the pillows. She rolled over to face him, closing her eyes to try to get more sleep.

Steve started groaning so she opened her eyes. She smiled when his barely open eyes looked at her. He gave her a tired smile, his hair all over the place as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer.

"Morning," he said, his voice low and deep from just waking up. "Did you get any sleep?"

"I did. Thanks for letting me crash here," she said, a sad smile on her face. "Guess I should start figuring out what the hell I'm going to do."

"I know what you need to do first," he said, slowly sitting up. The sheet moved and exposed his hairy chest as he smiled over at her.

"What's that?" She asked, trying to keep her eyes respectful.

"Breakfast" he whispered. He laughed as she pushed his shoulder.

"Just when I thought you were going to be helpful!" She teased. She got out of bed and groaned. "Fuck, I don't have clothes or anything."

"I'll drive you home and you can grab a few things. We'll go to breakfast and plan what you want to do next." Steve offered, and Y/N smiled down at him.

"Thank you, Steve. For all of this and helping."

Steve slipped out of bed and walked over to pull her into a hug.

~

Y/N sighed as they walked up to her door, Eddie's car was up front so she knew she was going to face him.

"You can do this. Just go straight to your room and grab what you need." Steve encouraged. She nodded and unlocked the door.

Steve followed behind her as they walked in. Y/N held her breath as she walked into the living room, Eddie and Kathy were cuddled on the couch watching TV. Upon seeing her, Eddie stood up shocked. Kathy grumbled as her body slumped against the couch.

"Y/N?"

"I'm just here to grab a few things and I'm gone." She snapped, rolling her eyes when she looked at Kathy. She walked to her room and Steve stayed behind. Y/N knew Eddie picked Kathy but it pained her to see that after the huge blowout, he was still right by her side.

"Eddie, Kathy" Steve greeted

"Playing the knight and shining armor, Harrington? I mean how long has she been running to you and she still has no feelings for you!" Eddie smirked

"Let's see," Steve pretended to think, "I think the first time was when you got completely drunk and told her that sometimes you have dreams about marrying her. Oh! Then a minute later, your tongue was down a girl's throat! That was maybe freshmen year? So um since then!" Steve said as he snapped his fingers. "I don't need her to have feelings for me to care about her. It doesn't give me a purpose to be a cocky son of a bitch like you."

Eddie's smirk dropped and he felt anger rush through him. "I've always cared about her. Her having a crush on me didn't change any way that I treated her!"

"That's true," Steve said as he stepped closer. "It's her that changed the way you treated Y/N." He whispered, his eyes looking over Eddie's shoulder to Kathy.

"You're pathetic, Harrington" Eddie growled, "she has never looked twice in your direction and you think that'll change because she's hurting? You'll just be a rebound. You'll never be me."

"You think I want to be you?" Steve laughed, "She runs away from you and comes straight to me. She comes to me for comfort, for love, for support. You fucked up, man. If she wants a rebound, I'll give her a rebound. I'll give her every damn reason to never speak to you again. You got Kathy, you're not the winner here."

"You'd take advantage of her and fuck her?" Eddie growled, shoving Steve's body.

"Be careful there Eddie, sounds like you might be jealous," Steve winked. He loved edging Eddie on. "I'd never take advantage of her, I'm nothing like you."

"Steve, I'm ready to go," Y/N said as she walked out with a bag.

"Yeah, me too," Steve said

"Y/N, can we please talk?" Eddie asked, ignoring the pain he felt when she stood next to Steve and held his arm for comfort. She used to hold his arm when she needed comfort.

Y/N wanted to say yes, but seeing Kathy on her old couch reminded her nothing was going to change and she'd keep getting hurt.

"Nothing we need to say. Once I figure out where I'm going to stay, I'll be here to pack everything up. Enjoy your life, Eddie." She said sadly, tugging on Steve's arm.

Eddie watched as they walked out, a different feeling swarming around his stomach.

~

"I think if I moved a few blocks down, it should still be in my price range," Y/N said, cutting up her eggs.

"Do you really want to deal with that? And you'll have to find a roommate." Steve explained, then shoved a mouthful of waffles in his mouth.

"What else can I do? Staying with Eddie is not an option. He'll probably have Kathy move in so I don't think he'll give me the place."

"Live with me," Steve shrugged

Y/N choked on her water, coughing as she set down her cup.

"You don't want me living with you. I'm going to be a mess with all my emotions and you deserve a break some days," she joked, but a sad reality to her words.

"I'll never need a break from you. You've been staying at my place for years when you need it. The only difference is that it's your place now too." Steve explained

"I don't know. What about when you want girls around? You don't need a sobbing girl across the hall." Y/N argued.

"I want you there," Steve said as he reached over and held her hand. "Give it a chance before you go out and spend all your money. It's a free trial!" Steve joked

He smiled when she let out a laugh. "Okay, fine. I'll be your trail roommate!"

~~~

It didn't take long for Y/N and Steve to spend every moment together. She always felt happiest around Steve and she forgot how good it felt. He always had her smiling and laughing, and it was refreshing.

After a week, Y/N forced herself back to work. She wasn't sure how it would go now that she and Eddie weren't talking. Or at least she wasn't, he still called every day. She was worried he would be sitting at the bar like he always did, she wasn't sure if she could handle seeing him.

"What do I even say? Can I ignore him? Or do I have to sit there and serve him drinks like he didn't break my heart!" Y/N ranted as she got herself ready for work. Steve sat on her newly claimed bed, admiring her as she brushed through her hair frantically.

"Would you feel more at ease if I came with you?" Steve asked, "If he gets out of line, I'll cut in."

Y/N smiled at him through the mirror, "You'd do that for me? I'm sure there's a better way to spend your Friday night."

"I'd do anything for you, doll." He smiled

~

"So, how long are you going to wait until you tell her the truth?" Robin asked, playing with the small umbrella in her drink.

Robin and Steve were sitting at the bar, keeping Y/N company throughout her shift. The bar was busy and packed so she was able to keep her mind off Eddie. And it helped that he still hadn't shown.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, Robin smirked as his eyes stayed on Y/N as she walked through the bar.

"Can you stop staring for a second and talk to me?" Robin joked, hitting Steve's arm.

Steve blinked and looked at Robin, "happy?"

"Yes, and you know exactly what I mean. You can't torture yourself by never telling her you are in love with her." Robin said she could see the emotions changing in Steve's eyes.

"I know and I will tell her. But she's still hurting right now and throwing that on her would be inappropriate. I want her to heal."

"No, you want her to be over Eddie." Robin corrected

"You're a pain in the ass," Steve groaned

"Drinks?" Y/N asked as she leaned over the bar to grab Steve's beer. He coughed as her cleavage poured out of the tiny tank top the bar made her wear.

Robin snickered and Steve was quick to kick her with his foot.

"For you," Y/N smiled as she placed the beer on Steve's napkin, he went to grab it and his fingers gently touched hers. Y/N couldn't help but let her fingers linger before she pulled away. Snapping back into reality as Robin coughed.

"Another one for you, Rob?" Y/N asked politely

"I'm good, gorgeous." Robin winked

Y/N winked back and went to help other customers.

"Do you have to flirt with her right in front of me?" Steve teased

"Let the show begin," Robin said with a smirk as she nodded her head towards the front. Steve looked to the door and there Eddie was walking in.

Steve glared flames into Eddie as he walked further into the bar and took a seat on the other side. Steve smiled when she walked right past Eddie and came to him.

"What do I do? I'm panicking" Y/N whispered, trying her best not to look over her shoulder.

"Want me to ask him to leave?" Steve asked, already standing up

"No!" Y/N said, "I don't need you guys fighting. It's my problem, I need to be an adult and just face him."

"I'll be right here if you need me. Just call me over," Steve said as he sat back down. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you," she said

Robin watched as she left. "He seems pissed. You really get under his skin, don't you?" she asked

"He doesn't like that she realized she doesn't need him," Steve shrugged as he sipped on his beer

~

"Is he your new bodyguard or does he just follow you around like a love-sick puppy?" Eddie scoffed

"What do you want to drink?" Y/N asked, ignoring his comment as she grabbed a glass

"You might not be talking to me right now, but I'm still your best friend and we can work this out," Eddie explained

"Are you going to break up with her?"

"Why does that have to be the only outcome?"

"Not understanding why tells me there's nothing worth working out. If you were my best friend you wouldn't have hurt me while you knew I have feelings for you. It took me too damn long to see that you don't care about me as much as you say you do. You picked Kathy, you get to live with that choice. And when you wake up and finally realize you picked a fake bitch over the girl who actually loves you, don't you even think about me." She spat, slamming down his glass of beer.

She felt proud as she turned around and walked over to Steve

Eddie gripped his glass as he fumed watching her laughing with Steve.

~~~

A few weeks passed and things were changing. The more time Y/N spent with the Steve, the less she thought of Eddie. She was moving on from him and slowly falling into Steve.

She realized it all on a random Sunday. Steve had his friends over for the football game, everyone was cheering and having a good time. Y/N didn't really watch football but she was dressed in one of Steve's jerseys, sitting next to him on the couch. Her legs were sprawled out on his lap, and his large left hand was softly tracing shapes on her bare skin. His eyes were focused on the TV, his mouth running as he talked with his friends. He was occupied by everything around him, but his touch never left her.

There was a knock on the door and Steve got up to answer it

"Hey Y/N," Robin greeted as she walked in with more beer

"Hey girl," Y/N smiled, she stood up so Robin could take her spot. The couch was full and Y/N prepared to head off to her room.

Steve sat down and cracked open a beer, within seconds he was lost in the game. But no matter how occupied he was, he would always know if she was missing.

"Whatcha doing over there? Come sit," Steve laughed as Y/N stood in the hallway

"Robin needs a spot and this is your friend time. I can hang in my room, don't worry about me!" Y/N shrugged

"I can grab a stool from the kitchen!" Robin offered, going to stand up but Steve pushed her back down.

"Nonsense, there is room for both my girls, come here," Steve said as he waved her over

Y/N slowly walked over, she leaned down to whisper in Steve's ear

"I don't want to be rude and make all your friends move," Y/N looked around the couch, all the boys zoned in on the TV and she didn't want to disturb that.

Steve didn't say anything, waiting until she stood up. Once she did, he turned her around and grabbed her hips, throwing her right down on his lap. She squealed in surprise.

Steve wrapped one arm around her and moved up to whisper in her ear,

"This okay?"

The feeling of his hard body against her back, the raspiness in his whisper, his breath tickling her ear, and the way his hand rested on the inside of her thigh made her think of Steve in ways she never had.

"Yeah, it's okay," she said, her voice cracking as she squirmed. Her eyes were on the TV but her mind was busy imagining Steve's hard body in different scenarios.

Ever since then, a crush on Steve formed and kept getting out of control.

~~~

More weeks passed and Y/N was a mess for Steve. She tried to keep it under control, cussing herself out for crushing on all the guys she moved in with. She knew how bad it ended last time and did not want to lose Steve too.

But he made it so hard

It was his birthday and he wanted to go clubbing. So now Y/N was slipping on her tightest dress, with her best heels, and perfecting her hair and makeup.

"Hey, are you re-" Steve cut himself off as his jaw dropped. He stared at her as she finished her lipstick. She stood up and turned around to face him. She shivered at the way he looked her up and down, once again making controlling her crush harder to do.

"Yes, let's go!" she rushed out, speeding past him so she could feel herself breathe again.

They were at the club for a few hours, a few drinks, and a lot of dances. They weren't drunk, but their liquid courage seemed to make them more free with each other. Y/N would never be grinding on Steve's body if she was fully sober. And Steve wouldn't be sucking on her neck if he was fully sober. But the heat between them was too much to ignore, the sexual tension needed to be acted upon, or neither would be able to move on.

So lost in lust, neither remembered how they got home. But it didn't matter as they pushed through their front door with their lips locked. They made out as they walked to Steve's room, pushing open his door. Steve pulled away as they walked towards his bed, she stopped when her legs hit the mattress.

"Is this what you want?" He asked, his chest moving rapidly as he breathed hard. She admired his red lips, loving the way she could see just how hard they were kissing. Then she looked into his eyes, so dark and swimming with lust. She wished she was looking at herself through his eyes because she must have looked beautiful by the way he couldn't look away.

"Make me feel good, birthday boy," she whispered, a smirk on her lips as he moaned. She gasped when he pushed her body against the bed and climbed on top of her.

His mouth was on hers as his hands moved under her dress. She moaned as he teased her cunt over her thin underwear. His long fingers slid up and down, his mouth sucking away her breath as she panted underneath him.

Neither wanted to spend time with foreplay, both early tearing each other's clothes off. He was painfully hard and she had never felt so wet in her life. She was running her fingers through his hairy chest and her other hand scratching down his back. His head buried in her neck as he pushed himself inside of her.

He started slow, memorizing how she felt wrapped around him. He had been dreaming of this for years and he didn't want to rush anything. But the way she moaned, begging him for more, and whispering dirty words in his ear made him want to lose himself inside of her.

"Steve please, I can handle it," she begged. He felt amazing don't get her wrong, but she wanted him to fuck her like an animal.

"I've wanted this for so long, I want to feel everything," he said against her lips, his forehead softly pressed against hers. She smiled at his words, feeling her heart burst.

"I promise this won't be the only time. Show me how desperately you want this, let yourself go," she said, reaching up to hold his cheek

He turned his head to kiss her palm

"Tell me if you need me to stop," he said

The second she nodded, his mouth attacked her chest. She moaned out as he bit down on her nipple, tugging it was his teeth as he drilled his cock inside of her.

"Fuck yes," she moaned, smiling as she felt pleasure running all throughout her body. He was long and thick, feeling like heaven inside her as he fucked her fast.

"You feel amazing, baby," He moaned

His bed was smacking the wall

His balls were smacking against her skin

Her moans were turning into screams

"Make me cum, Steve. Make me cum," she whined, throwing her head back

"Gladly" he smirked, and he slid himself out of her. Giving her no time to whine in protest as he flipped her around. She clawed at his pillows as he pushed her hips up, her ass in the air.

She gasped in pleasure as he slipped himself back inside of her, keeping a rapid pace as he moved his right hand down to her clit. She felt her eyes roll in the back of her head as he swirled his fingers against her clit, adding to the pleasure that was building in her stomach.

"Yes, yes, yes" she chanted like a prayer as she felt herself getting close. Then he slipped out of her again and she wanted to cry. But then she felt his wet tongue pushed inside of her.

She cried into the pillows as he tongue fucked her and kept his fingers rubbing circles on her clit. She didn't have time to warn him, her thighs shook and she felt everything snap.

Steve moaned as he felt her cum soak his face. He happily ate her cum, humming at her sweet taste. He groaned as he felt his cock twitch, he pulled back and pushed himself back inside her wet cunt.

She yelped at the overstimulation, crying into the sheets as he chased his orgasm.

"Fuck, you're gonna make me cum so hard" he moaned

"Fucking," thrust "Gorgeous," thrust, "best" thrust, "sex of," thrust, "my life,"

"Oh my god" Y/N whined as she felt Steve cumming inside of her. She could feel his warm cum painting her walls, every drop inside of him, her cunt milking him until he was empty.

His sweaty body collapsed against her back. He panted as he slowly stood up with shaky legs. She rolled her body over, a blissful smile on her face. Her eyes were heavy as she looked at him through her lashes, his sweaty and toned body standing over her.

He looked down at her in awe

She wiggled her finger to call him closer, he listened and leaned down. She smiled as she leaned up and softly kissed his lips.

~

The next morning Steve was in the kitchen making breakfast, his chest bare and a pair of sweatpants low on his hips. When he moved a certain way he could feel the scratches on his back and he'd hiss at the sting.

He was lost in memory when he heard a knock on the door. He turned off the stove and walked over to the door. He opened it and was surprised to see Eddie.

"I need to talk to Y/N," he demanded

"Hello to you too Eddie, and I don't think that is a good idea," Steve explained, ready to shut the door but Eddie stopped the door with his hand

"I don't care what you think, I need to talk to her," Eddie argued

"Well, she's not here so bye," Steve again tried to close the door but Eddie wasn't having any of it.

"I feel like I can barely walk, Steve. Jesus chr-EDDIE!" Y/N froze as she walked out of the bedroom. Her eyes locked between Eddie and Steve, both men looking mad as ever, but for different reasons.

Eddie felt his heart race as she stumbled as she walked, her words, and the dark marks on her neck. Eddie didn't take long to connect the dots; all he saw was red.

"YOU FUCKER!" Eddie screamed, taking Steve down to the floor. Y/n screamed in panic as Eddie and Steve began to brawl on the ground in front of her.

"EDDIE GET OFF!" Y/N screamed, grabbing his arm and shoving him away from Steve. Eddie stood on his feet, glaring as she helped Steve stand up. She frowned at the little blood that fell from Steve's nose.

"What the hell is your problem!" Y/N spat, turning around as her glare landed on Eddie

"He's my fucking problem," Eddie hissed, pointing his finger at Steve as he seethed in anger. "I knew all along that fucker liked you. Sitting in the corner, being a shoulder for you to cry on so he can make moves on you!"

"Why do you care so much? It's not like Y/N is your girlfriend, Eddie. I'm not in the wrong for going after what I want. You've got your girlfriend to focus on so leave us alone" Steve spat

"Kathy and I broke up"

Y/N whipped her head to look at Eddie, pure shock on her face

"What?" Y/N asked

Eddie looked at Y/N, softly grabbing her hand. Steve held himself back from tearing Eddie's hand off.

"I miss you," he said, his eyes staring deep into Y/N's. "I realized everything too late, I know that. But you changed my life and I'm never going to get over losing you. I should have listened when you warned me and I regret nothing more than picking her over you. I'm jealous, I'll be honest. The idea of you and him," Eddie said as he nodded his head towards Steve with a pained look, "breaks my heart. I thought I was so angry about it because I wanted to protect you, but I know that's not why."

"Eddie, what are you saying?" Y/N gulped

"I'm saying that I'm jealous and angry about Steve because I have feelings for you. I think I always have, it just took so damn long to realize it. I love you and I'm sorry for all the pain I put you through. I want you to come home, and I want to work this out. I want you."

Steve could feel his heart-shattering in his chest with every word. It hurt to see the look in Y/N's eyes. It was everything she wanted to hear ever since she fell for him. Eddie confessed he was in love with her, and Steve had no idea where that left him.

"Eddie I-I" Y/N stuttered, she was honestly at a loss for words

"Just say you love me too," Eddie begged, pushing his forehead against hers, he held her face in place. His rough hands on her delicate cheeks

Steve had to look away, the water filling his eyes as he tried to hold back his tears

"I love you too," she whispered

Steve bit down on his lip as hard as he could, silencing his sobs as his body shook. He did everything for her, he treated her the way she deserved, and he still wasn't going to get the girl.

"But I'm not in love with you anymore"

Her words made both boys freeze

Y/N stepped back, taking Eddie's hands off of her.

"What?" Eddie whispered, a pained look in his eyes as she kept stepping back

"I spent years wanting to hear you say that, but I've never felt loved by you. But Steve," she said, walking over to him. She softly grabbed his hand, "he shows me how much he loves me every day"

"I understand," Eddie choked out

Steve and Y/N watched as Eddie left, the door closing behind him

"So, you've uh liked me that long?" Y/N asked, a small smile on her face as she turned to look at Steve

"Just a bit," he shrugged

Y/N stood in front of him, dropping his hand to reach up and wipe away his tears

"I like you too, you know just a bit," she joked, loving the way he smiled and laughed

"I was preparing to lose you" Steve sighed

Y/N nodded and cupped his cheek, she leaned in and kissed his lips. "You won't. I pick you"

@dreamerjj @lotrefcp @daisy-munson @buckybarnessweetheart @munsongirl97 @mugloversonly @duncanhillscoffeecups

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

[saintmuses]

❝𝙨𝙤 𝙬𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙗𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮❞

Pairing:

Thomas Shelby x Jurossi!Reader

Summary:

When he courted his first love Greta before the Great War, he met her younger sister; Y/N Jurossi. He took her under his wings after the war and she was the best thing that could have ever happened to someone like him.

Warning(s): Soft SMUT. Somewhat dub-con. Fluffy. Implied age gap (everyone’s grown). A pinch of dark theme, but it’s consensual. Implied minor corruption. Minor power imbalance. Fingering. Thomas being extremely soft towards Y/N. Daddy kink (so sorry). Minors, dni!

Word Count: 2.5k

“Bad day?” She asked quietly into his ear while wrapping her arms around his chest from behind.

"Hectic," Thomas said with a sigh, leaning back against her. Her warm breath caressed his ear. He would never tell anyone, but it felt nice to be held and comforted. "We're gettin’ more trouble at one of the factories. I've been tryin’ to straighten it out, but it seems nothin’ works," he muttered, shaking his head in frustration.

“You’re Thomas Shelby, you’ll figure it out.” She said soothingly, rubbing her hands on his shoulders to ease out the tension.

Thomas chuckled under her touch and relaxed into her embrace. “I know, but sometimes the weight of all this responsibility gets to me,” he admitted, “It’s nice to have someone here to keep me steady.”

She was confused because he had a family who could support him every step of the way. “What do you mean?” She asked. He looked up at her before dragging her into his lap making her yelp in surprise.

Thomas laughed softly. His hands wrapped around her frame, pulling her close. His chest rose and fell, his heart pounding against her.

“I just mean that you’ve been keepin’ me sane and grounded, keepin’ me from losing my mind ‘n all this mess.” He said softly, stroking her hair.

“Other than whiskey and cigarettes?” She asked, eyeing the Irish whiskey on the desk next to them. 

Thomas shrugged, “That helps too, but I prefer you.” He murmured, leaning in closer. His hands trailed down her back, pulling her body flush up against his. “You’re my favorite thing.”

She giggled, “well I hope you would choose me as number one over whiskey as your favorite thing on the list, it would be terrible if I’m number two.” She pouted with mischief in her eyes 

"Oi, I'd always choose you over any bottle of whiskey." He said with confidence, almost playfully. She was his favorite thing, his whole world. His hands caressed her soft skin, tracing their way up and down her body. He couldn't help it. He was intoxicated by her beauty. He craved her in so many ways. "You're my everythin’."

She blushed, “not even your siblings?” She questioned softly.

"Never," Tommy said firmly. He leaned in closely and stared deeply into her eyes. "No one could ever take your spot in me heart. I would never choose anyone over you. You're too special."

He had met her when he started courting Greta Jurossi before the war. He had thought she was a sweet little thing, but he had never saw her as anything other than Greta’s sister who was quiet and meek. 

It wasn’t until he received a letter from her in France during his days and nights digging and shoveling dirt to form tunnels underground and he had been surprised to see a letter from his past. 

She lost her parents to influenza that took over Europe and she had nowhere else to go. He did tell her after Greta died that if she needed anything, send him a letter and he would make sure she was taken care of.

When he came back as a different man, he knew he needed to take her under his wing because she was one thing in his past that was undamaged, untouched by many things.

Somewhere along the line, he fell in love with her.

She grinned at him before turning her head to see the dark liquid in a bottle and grabbed it before unscrewing the top. Raising the bottle to her lips, she took a delicate sip, swallowing it. 

Thomas’ heart skipped a beat as he watched her take the first sip of whiskey. Her eyes twinkled as she swallowed the liquid and licked her lips, her face brightening with a mischievous grin.

He had never seen anything so beautiful and so arousing. She was so bold, so daring, so alluring. His hands clenched into fists as he watched her.

He then reached for the bottom of the bottle, knowing she could handle as he tilted the bottle towards her lips, guiding the liquid into her mouth and watching her swallow it down flawlessly. He couldn't take his eyes off her. Every move she made was perfect, enchanting, and irresistible. The way she drank the whiskey down so easily, gulping it as if her life depended on it was so incredibly arousing.

He eased up on the bottle before putting it aside, placing it back on the desk, and collected her back into his arms. She mumbled unintelligible as he pushed her head into his neck.

He cradled her in his arms as she nuzzled against his neck. His grip tightened around her body as he pulled her closer. She was sleepy, and her words were nonsensical, but his embrace felt so right. It was as if it was where she belonged.

He buried his face in her neck and let out a sigh of contentment. The smell of her hair sent a jolt of pleasure down his spine. He couldn't get enough of her.

She giggled, trying to edge away from his face, “Tommy, that feels ticklish.” Her words slurred from exhaustion that flitted on her face as well.

He reluctantly pulled away from her neck and laughed softly. She was slightly tipsy, but she sounded cute when she was like this. He cupped her face in his hands and looked into her eyes.

“Are you tellin’ me you’re lightweight, eh?” He asked, grinning, wanting an honest answer.

She hesitated before nodding. “I think so?” She giggled once more. “I mean I had two glasses of gin before checking on you, but you know what alcohol does to me.”

She seemed so adorable when she was exhausted like this. Thomas couldn't help but chuckle, enjoying her adorable tipsy and sleepy mannerisms. 

She did not get tipsy in the shape of getting drunk. Whenever she had too much, she would get sleepy.

He brushed back her hair, his hands roaming over her soft skin. "I think you are, my little sleepy baby," he whispered, trailing his fingers up her arms. Once he reached for her neck, he then chuckled and brushed her hair behind her ear, loving the way her eyes opened up, and she whimpered slightly.

"Is something wrong?" Thomas asked softly, his voice a little huskier than before. He was enjoying this way too much. His hands cupped her cheeks, slowly caressing her face. His touch was gentle but firm. "Are you not a sleepy little baby?"

“What would you call me if I’m not sleepy?” She pouted, eyes blinking innocently.

His lips twitched as he tried not to smile. He liked her when she was being sleepy, but he also loved it when she pouted. She was so cute and innocent, in total contrast to his fierce and powerful personality.

"You'll always be my baby." Thomas murmured, kissing her forehead. his hands slowly traced up and down her back, wanting to give her some sort of comfort yet also seeking something more from her.

Her pout shifted to a smile in response. Her eyes slowly blinked, lulling her head forward onto his shoulder. Her head rested on his shoulder, and for a moment, she seemed so innocent and sweet. He could tell she was a little tipsy, but something else was stirring within him. She was so vulnerable, so open to him. 

His hand ran across her cheeks softly, playing with her hair. His other hand rested firmly on her thigh, caressing the soft skin.

He lifted her onto the desk in front of him. She grumbled slightly when she felt a hard surface under her, but he laid her down on it gently before sitting down in the chair again.

Thomas couldn't help but chuckle again when she grumbled slightly after he laid her down on hard furniture.

Her presence next to him was so inviting. She smelled so intoxicating and she was so delicate. Her body was just begging to be touched, and he couldn't refuse.

“You are so pretty,” he whispered in her ear, his breath caressing her neck.

She felt his hand trailing from her shoulder, down between her sternum, down her abdomen until he reached the hem of her night gown. He dragged the fabric of her night gown up her thighs until her abdomen was revealed, exposing her in her underwear. 

Thomas’ fingers trailed along her body, exploring it in such intimate and bold ways. It felt so good to be able to touch her without any limitations. 

Her body was so fragile. He had never felt anything soft as her. His fingers glided along her skin, his hands rubbing up and down her sides and down her thighs. Curling his fingers around her calves, he gripped them to maneuver her legs until they were propped on the wooden arms of the chair with her feet flat on the surface, the position made her thighs spread apart. She gasped when his hand ran from her calves towards her thighs then ran over her underwear, trying to feel her through the fabric.

Thomas’ hand caressed her thigh, his fingers brushing against the soft fabric covering her skin. He loved the way she would gasp whenever his hands touched her. 

He wanted to see how much it would take to make her lose her restraint. He pulled back slightly, caressing everything but the skin under her underwear. He made her sweat a little before finally sliding his fingers underneath it.

She felt him curling his fingers to pull the fabric aside, exposing her cunt to his hungry gaze.

“What are you doing, Tommy?” she mumbled the question.

"What does it look like, eh?" Tommy's voice was low and husky as he looked her up and down, studying her body with his eyes. She was so vulnerable and innocent.

He was taking advantage of that. This was his girl, and he was going to let himself enjoy her.

"Just lettin’ myself enjoy every inch of your perfection," Thomas said softly as his fingers began to trace her folds, feeling the slickness of her arousal on the pads of his fingers.

She whimpered as she felt his fingers parting her folds and slid a finger excruciatingly slow into her. “Da-“ she cut herself off, feeling embarrassed through her sleepy-addled brain.

"Did you just try to call me daddy?" Thomas asked softly, although he was a tad bit surprised by the name, but he enjoyed watching the look of embarrassment on her face. She was so easily embarrassed, and it gave him a deep sense of satisfaction. 

He was loving the way that she was responding to him. It was as if her drunk sleepy body was submitting to him, letting him explore every inch of her.

“N-no.” She lied, flushing slightly as she began to mumble incoherently under her breath.

"Don't lie to me, sweetheart," Thomas said, smiling. He moved closer to her face. If she was too embarrassed to speak, he would read from her body. Her facial expression gave away everything she was feeling right now.

His index finger joined his middle finger, and his fingers explored her more deeply as he looked into her eyes, wanting to see how much she could handle.

“Would you honestly like it if I call you that?” She asked quietly, arching her back slightly.

"Oh, I would love that," Thomas said immediately, not even wasting a moment to think. He didn't care about his pride when it came to her. She gave him the opportunity to take care of her, and she was so submissive to him right now. ”Do it, my girl," he softly commanded, running his fingers along the walls of her cunt before curling up to touch the spongy surface.

She gasped, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Daddy,” she breathed, swallowing inaudibly.

His lips curled into a satisfied smile; he was pleased to hear that particular word coming from her. He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose, his fingers continuing to explore her intimately.

She whined, her eyes were still unfocused, but she had a semi strung out look on her face before biting down her lip to hold back noises as he continued to touch her.

His fingers slowly traced between her folds, exploring every inch of her there. His fingertips ran up and down, making her squirm and whimper. She was so sensitive, and so easily aroused. His touch sent a jolt of pleasure to the tip of her pleasure spectrum, and she couldn't contain her body from writhing.

She whimpered. “Daddy,” it was almost in a slur in response to his ministrations.

"That’sa good girl," Thomas muttered softly, his voice huskier than before. He couldn't get enough of this. Her submission to him had awakened something dark and devious within him. He wanted to take advantage of it. "Do you like this, my naughty girl?"

“Y-yes.” She whined. He looked down at her slick cunt and praised her.

"It's so perfect," Thomas whispered, taking a moment to look her in the eyes, his fingers slowing down just a little. He was enjoying her responses to his touch, but he wanted to prolong this a little longer so he could explore every single inch of her.

“What is?” She whimpered.

"Your pretty cunt," he answered softly, trailing his fingers along her thighs again. The way she squirmed and whimpered with every touch gave him a rush of adrenaline.

Thomas had never felt this turned on in his entire life. Every sound that came from her mouth turned him on even more. Her responses drove him over the edge. Her whimpers were like music to him. The music he thought he did not want to hear since the war.

His fingers glided back and forth between her folds, tracing the skin of her cunt softly.

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head at the feeling. 

"You're so pretty when you get like this, my girl," Thomas whispered. He couldn't help but look down at her face to see her expression. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she looked so vulnerable. She couldn't resist him in this tiredness mind of a state, and he was enjoying every moment of it.

She felt him lean in closer to her, his breath on her face as he rumbled softly at her. 

“Daddy,” she whimpered when she felt his nose nuzzling her nose.

“What is it, baby?”

“I love you,” she whined softly to him, sighing at his closeness.

His breath caught in his throat at her words. She couldn't have said anything nicer or better to him. Her words made everything more real, and he couldn't stand it because he knew he did not deserve her. However, he was a selfish bastard after all, and the war had taken too much from him. He deserved this one thing.

He brought her face closer to his, his breath still trembling, his voice sounding softer. "I love you too, baby," he whispered softly.

He saw her head lolling back on the surface of the desk, and he couldn't resist the urge to lean in and kiss her lips gently. His fingers brushed against her cheeks tenderly as he caressed her face with his hand. It was as if she was the only thing that mattered in this fucked up world.

[randomfoggytiger]

"My Touchstone": the Turning Point

Dedicated to the anon who asked:

I would love to hear your thoughts on how the “touchstone” conversation changed Mulder and Scully’s relationship. Was it this scene that propelled them into a romantic relationship?

To answer that question, I have to back up a bit to Fight the Future. Actually, let's back up even further-- to the cancer arc-- so we can get a clearer picture of the relationship between these two Avoidants (post here.)

FORWARD AND BACKWARD

Mulder realizes the extent of his feelings for Scully in Memento Mori.

I posit Scully's already known her feelings since at least early Season 2; but her temperament leads her to suppress, rather than express, emotional wants or needs. Never Again (posts here and here) was the result of both Season 3's on-and-off jealousy and Mulder's avoidance of a normal life (Home, post here) and search for his tragic soulmate (The Field Where I Died.) Because of this, Scully tries to pinpoint and grapple with her "endless line", realizing-- too late-- that she wanted recognition (and more) from Mulder (as spelled out in the script, here.) Mulder realizes this, too, and lets the matter drop.

For Scully, it's advantageous to keep everything unsaid, largely because Mulder isn't ready... for anything, really (as discussed in the Home post linked above, and demonstrated by this clip.) Everything he's been drawn to or attracted by has an ephemeral, fleeting resemblance to some other normalcy he craves (post here)-- but has never, ever lasted. Except Scully.

So, Mulder realizes his feelings, Scully escapes cancer by the skin of her teeth, and we arrive at Detour... where he runs from the motel, chasing after his monster case.

Some read this moment as Mulder realizing and dodging Scully's intentions, others that he was completely blind to her intentions. I file it as the latter; but we also have ample evidence of Mulder noticing Scully's actions briefly before losing focus in favor of another tantalizing mystery (ex. the beginning of The Unnatural.) He misses the forest for the trees in his personal life-- or rather, he doesn't see the value in fixating on it beyond a few superficial check-ins here and there (we'll get to that.) Scully's always by his side, they have the work, he wants answers, why change? It's the same question he asks her in other contexts (ex. "Why now? Why Boggs?" in Beyond the Sea.)

Season 5 continues. It's a rough year for Mulder (post here.) And for Scully: The End is another episode on a pile of episodes where she feels she's "failed" Mulder, leading to her dispirited goodbye in FTF.

Thus, we arrive at Fight the Future: the moment that forces Mulder to make a confession or lose Scully. To him, her importance was never in question; but the hard part is admitting how broken he feels without her. He was afraid to do more in their partnership because... what would happen if things changed? His fear is rooted in the "What if?", and holds him back from a course of action. Scully's fear is rooted in "Did I choose right?", and manifests after she decides on a course of action (A Christmas Carol's doubts after joining the FBI, Never Again after four years in, all things after the Season of Secret Sex, etc.)

Despite the good that came from his hallway, Mulder's greatest fear is realized when Scully nearly dies after he confesses he needs her. This kicks him into retreat mode (post here)-- "go be a doctor", he tells her. It's Scully who says, "I can't", and clings to his hand, who refuses to give up. That is important, because it's another example of how reliant on Scully Mulder is, to the detriment of his own growth, at times.

Mulder takes her words to mean that Scully is unflinchingly by his side-- which is true. What isn't is his next assumption: that they're on the same page.

They're not, really.

THE IMPORTANCE OF SEASON 6

In The Beginning, Scully hasn't felt the need to change-- she's a scientist, she needs proof-- but she hasn't confronted and overcome her unnecessary doubts, either. Mulder, meanwhile, demonstrates he hasn't changed, either-- and, more importantly, how far removed he is still if from a functioning relationship... as Scully suspected. Hurt that she didn't back him up before their superiors-- which resulted in them losing the files-- he hides behind frustration and anger. Scully feels rejected, and lo and behold! Diana appears; and wins back some ground with Mulder while Scully loses Gibson Praise. By the end of the episode, Mulder doesn't want to cosign to Scully's theory because her science, he thinks, betrayed them before. And lo and behold! It kind of did. But it didn't this time, when it's too late.

Where does that place them early Season 6? As an enclosed unit, with Mulder pillaging the basement-- without consulting Diana-- and sneaking off on his own or taking Scully with him on his misadventures. For all that could be wrong between them, a lot is still right; and both put in the effort to include and watch out for the each other.

Then Two Fathers and One Son (posts here, here, and here) shakes them apart: Mulder doesn't want to believe yet another ally is using and manipulating him; but gives in and goes to investigate Diana when Scully threatens to walk if he doesn't listen to her. He's speared in the Achilles Heel, however-- fatalism in the face of the inevitable-- and almost gives up completely before Scully yells him back from the brink. This happens again in Amor Fati; but he finally learns his lesson there. Scully is visibly angry with him at the end of the episode... and then we have the next few episodes as if nothing happened.

Agua Mala completely resolves their festering from One Son (yes, it's a blink-and-you'll-miss-it resolution; and, yes, I need to sit down and write that out sometime) and propels them into their old-- dare I say, lighthearted-- routine and banter (i.e. Monday, Arcadia, etc.)

An important side note: To accurately place where Mulder and Scully were romantically during this period, we have to figure out if there was lingering tension post One Son. The facts simply don't support that narrative. We see in Arcadia that Scully was enjoying herself at first-- only brushing Mulder off initially when he used her as part of his schmaltzy facade (during their arrival)-- until her partner began poking at her, too (posts here), to maintain distance between them (post here.) We see in Alpha (posts here) that their banter was fun and lighthearted until she found out Mulder kept information relevant to that case from her; and that that information was yet another woman he wanted her to trust without question because he did. (Regardless, she still looked out for his best interests and sympathized with him after Karin's death.) We are shown in Milagro (posts here) that her tops are dropping lower and lower in an unconscious desire to grab Mulder's attention; but more importantly, that Mulder still hasn't considered her in all the ways Dana Katherine Scully exists. Yet, tension only arises when Scully feels overlooked, not displaced-- a creeping of her old assumptions and Mulder's missed signals in Never Again 2.0, not a minimization of her value ala One Son. We see in The Unnatural that she's survived Padgett and is setting subtlety aside for the first time in their relationship; so no tension there at all.

In short, we see Scully moving on and wanting Mulder to move on with her, too... and Mulder either not getting the hint outright (the beginning of Arcadia and Milagro), or getting distracted by the next shiny case instead, despite her efforts (Alpha, The Unnatural.)

The Unnatural: stage one of Mulder's mature development (and you can thank David Duchovny for each of these stages, by the way.) I.e. Detour with unmistakably romantic overtures, in case Mulder missed them the first time (which seems to be a pattern for Scully: near death, survival, resolution, and overtures.) Mulder would have to be thick to miss her obvious flirting, but he still loses himself in another x-file and runs off to badger Arthur Dales about it-- meaning, at this point, Scully has his attention, but not his full attention. Scully takes this as a matter of course-- because that's how Mulder's been from Season 1 (i.e. The Jersey Devil's "Unlike you, Mulder, I would like to have a life"/"I have a life.") However, Mulder finally learns "the mystery of the heart"; and decides to test this out with Scully on the baseball field. It's a small, small, small step because he's not used to this "normal", this appreciation for small, perhaps insignificant things. More to the point, he's probably afraid to do more-- was afraid she wouldn't even show up, per his expression; and will be afraid to follow-up, per his actions in Amor Fati and Millennium. But he did it; and Scully knew what Mulder was meaning to demonstrate ("Shut up, Mulder, I'm playing baseball.), as Duchovny intended.

So, where does that take us? The IVF arc, of course (post here.) It's a failure, splat (or not a part of some fans' canon); and that keeps up moving rapidly along to the next beat in their relationship.

Field Trip. Oh, boy. Field Trip: the episode that prepares both agents for the foundational upheaval of the Biogenesis-Amor Fati arc. Scully can't solely rely on her pat scientific rationalizations; and Mulder doesn't trust her blind loyalty and belief. And both are undeniably coded as a couple throughout their "trip." The main takeaway from this experience is that they doubt themselves more than they doubt each other; and their doubts in each other pale in comparison to their unshakeable trust.

MY TOUCHSTONE

That leads us neatly to Biogenesis-Amor Fati... which we shall mostly skip for brevity's sake, as this arc accomplishes very little (despite its exorbitant screen time.)

Diana shows up, but has to admit Mulder has been asking for Scully "since last night." The barb doesn't land for Scully (while the implication highly amuses Skinner, post here); and after their resolution in Season 6-- Milagro and The Unnatural and the IVF arc and, most recently, Field Trip-- she remains unshaken in her conviction of Mulder's loyalty. She flies to Africa, touches the baby-restorer ship, and accomplishes... very little before flying back and finding out Tena has turned her son over to CSM.

Mulder, meanwhile, is stuck in dreamland. @cecilysass wrote an incredible post on the topic here; and @jaspertedd and @deathsbestgirl's theories-- that Mulder's dreams are influenced by those around him (post here)-- are interesting and pertinent additions. If true, that speaks to a deeper hole in Mulder's psyche he's yet to repair: doubting himself so much so that the influence of others takes precedence over his conscience. We've seen that before many times (one of which is Diana's manipulation in One Son, another of which was CSM's temptation in Redux II); but in each case, it was Scully-- a stronger moral barometer-- that kept him back or influenced his courage in the right direction. Mulder doesn't need to borrow her conscience, just her strength to act on his own.

"You were my constant, my touchstone"/"And you are mine" speaks volumes about where these characters are.

Mulder needed to accurately see that a life, a world where he was handed all his answers and given atonement for all his trespasses was empty and shallow without Scully. He needed, further, to shake off that side of himself that would rather wallow than fight, that put Scully in a position, over and over again, to save his life (Demons) or to talk him back from the edge (The Ghosts That Stole Christmas, though a mirage, was based in a truth.) For Mulder, Amor Fati is the crest of a long, arduous hill that took him decades to climb; and now tips him down, at last, towards maturity, self-actualization, and closure.

Scully needed to come to a different, frightening realization: that the cornerstones of her beliefs might be built on lies, too. She needed to open her mind to possibilities that challenged or even betrayed her beliefs-- to overcome the fear inside that was still inflicting self-doubt. For Scully, Amor Fati was the beginning of the end of her security in "the facts"-- but one that gave her the opportunity to step away from "the tried and true" in order to find herself: her intuition, and her happiness.

"You were my constant, my touchstone"/"And you are mine" is the verbalization of their mutual revelations.

THE END FOR MULDER, THE BEGINNING FOR SCULLY

Amor Fati, for Mulder, was a Part 2 to Redux II and a do-over for One Son: he was confronted by his conscience and learned, once again, to stand by it. But not alone, not yet. For Scully, it was the beginning of her journey, one that culminates in all things (post here.) Her relationship struggles aren't rooted in an upfront fear about moving forward in a relationship-- only what comes after, a pattern in all her relationships and major life decisions (post here.)

Yet, Mulder doesn't make a move in his hallway-- doesn't even try-- after his touchstone speech. Why?

Because Scully was overwhelmed and conflicted and needed space to work through her (Diana-adjacent) guilt-- the same feelings he'd battled with throughout Season 4 and 5: failing and failing and failing. With a little space and a little time for him to recover and a little case thrown in to get her back on track (Hungry), their equilibrium is reestablished.

And that leads us to Millennium and the Season of Secret Sex.

It's Mulder who initiated his confession in Fight the Future, it's Mulder who invited her to play ball under the stars, and it's Mulder who affirmed she was his touchstone; so, it's Mulder who initiates their first kiss. Scully continues to hold herself in a waiting position-- standing at attention, Starbuck-style, until her captain makes the first move (something that all things shifts, as well)-- but all bets are off when he does. Mulder's first step initiates all her ensuing ones: jealously knocking into him in and playing with his tie in Rush, teasing about all being "right with the world" when they (hypothetically) return home in The Goldberg Variation, and each and every fond ribbing she tosses his way. There's a resolution between the two that isn't shaken until En Ami's trickery (which... was a topic all its own, post here) and all things's doubts.

Then we arrive at Closure. This episode is the resolution to Mulder's character arc-- not only because he found his sister and, effectively, laid her to rest, but because he learned to trust to her happy ending without needing Scully to believe him. For the first time, he exercises a "conscience", if you will, separately from Scully-- she is his touchstone, still, but not his whole being. A monumental change from Redux II and Folie a Deux and Fight the Future: then, it was "I knew you'd tell me if I was making a mistake" and "no one else" on earth believes him and "I don't want to do this alone. I don't even know if I can." Now, she remains his touchstone, his realignment; but he can stand on his own two feet without curling into whatever shape will earn him love from others.

all things is to Scully what Closure was to Mulder. Her touchstone claimed her as his in Amor Fati; and Scully thought this meant Mulder promised to always be there when she navigated strange waters... and then he ditches her for crop circles in England. Mulder doesn't understand why she's making a big deal of weekend work now instead of every weekend before; and the two separate in not bad but not great spirits (ala Never Again.) Feeling adrift, Scully runs into Daniel Waterston, and we know what happens from there. In short, all things forces Scully to have distance from Mulder's influence-- as Amor Fati had forced him from her-- in order to choose, with a clear conscience, if this path, this touchstone, is the right one for her. all things finally sets her free from her inhibitions: she guides Mulder back to their apartment and lets him ramble on and on without feeling displaced or devalued by his split focus.

Scully wouldn't be driven to this crossroads and its resolution had not Mulder calmed her self-reproach and claimed her as his "touchstone", allowing her to come back to and lean on that truth in her darkest hours. As we know, she's always relied on Mulder's strength-- Irresistible, Memento Mori, Elegy, etc.-- but had yet to rely on her own. all things, finally, guides her into her own strength and abilities.

COULD A RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN THEM HAVE WORKED BEFORE?

Realistically, anything can work with enough dedication and elbow grease (from both parties.) But, actually factually, the reciprocity needed for an intimate relationship wouldn't have been equal until after Mulder's return from "another life, another world." While they loved each other, Mulder's mercurial ways would wear on Scully's security, and Scully's sudden doubts and distance would dig Mulder's insecurities deeper in.

Mulder, the FBI profiler, was more strongly aware of this than Scully; while Scully, the scientific medical doctor, was more alertly aware of Mulder's constant retreat and instability than her own conflicting, distancing, brewing emotions. He had to learn to stand on his own two feet: a man who railed against the sky and stood up to his superiors and welcomed an existence as a pariah; and who would crumble the instant love was offered then revoked. She had to learn to trust her own instincts: a woman who rigidly tried to rein in her insecurities through facts and detached logical thinking; and who would implode with doubt the instant someone she respected or trusted questioned her decisions or intuition.

Could it or would it have worked? Yes, I think so. But Mulder and Scully were, I believe, happiest to begin a relationship when they did, on their own terms. They needed to be each other's touchstone first, not his "one-in-five-billion" or her "strength."

Partners, in all things.

CONCLUSION

"My touchstone" was the awakening for both: of how far Mulder had come, and much farther Scully had to go. Moreover, it solidified the nature of their relationship: unshakeable reliance and dependable trust, even if the whole world was (is) falling apart.

In short, Anon? Yes.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[starriislxt]

SAFE AROUND YOU ✰

⁀➷ rafe cameron x fem!reader | duration: 565

description: you wake up in the middle of the night, seeking comfort in your boyfriends arms.

content: sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ hurt ﾉ comfort ﾉ written with black!reader in mind but can be read as what you imagine.

notes: my first rafe fic!! technically its not my first one cause i’m working on another fic with him but that one is taking me a while to finish but i’m happy that i got this done so i can post it. i hope you guys like it, i’m a bit nervous.

masterlist 𐙚 previous fic 𐙚 taglist

Your eyes flutter open, letting out a soft gasp as you sit up in bed, taking a look at your surroundings  as you try to calm your heavy breathing.

“Stay calm (name), it was just a dream…. just a dream. No need to panic,” your eyes lock on to Sarah’s sleeping body, the small urge to wake her up is there in your mind but you decide not to, you don't want to bother her.

You sit there in the dark for a while, debating on whether you try going back to sleep but you’re scared after the nightmare you just witnessed.

No matter what you do, you can't calm your beating heart or the heavy breathing that follows behind it, you get out of bed, letting your feet choose the direction you go in not even noticing where you were going until you stop in front of Rafe’s door.

You know that you’d feel comfortable in his arms because you always felt the most safe with him as he was your boyfriend but Sarah, your best friend, didn’t know that you’re in a relationship with her brother. You decided it was best to keep it on the low before you told her about the relationship.

You give the door a soft knock before entering, only to notice he’s fast asleep, you didn’t want to interrupt him so you turn to leave. “(Name)?” Rafe spoke in a low raspy voice, stopping you in your tracks, turning to face him as he sat up in his bed.

“What’s wrong?” He softly asks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Um… it’s nothing, I just had a bad dream… I couldn’t sleep so I thought to come to see if you’re up but it’s fine, go back to sleep.”

“Baby, you can always wake me up, no matter if I’m asleep or not, you come first,” he says, opening his arms wide indicating you to come to him and you do just that, climbing into his bed, getting comfortable while he wraps his arms around you; pulling you closer to him as you lay your head against his chest

Being in his arms, you immediately feel safe, your heart beat calming down and the shift in your breathing changes as you listen to the beat of his heart beat. You've been in relationships before but none have ever made you feel the way you do with him.

You stay in the position for a few minutes longer until sleep falls upon you once again, not wanting to move from his arms, just yet. “You can sleep with me.” Rafe comments, once he knows that you have calmed down; knowing that you would be more comfortable with him.

“You know I can’t, not with your sister in the other room. What if she catches us?” You query, looking up into his blue eyes, the smile you love sitting on his face. “She won’t, my love. I’ll make sure to wake you up before she does, I promise.” He reassures, sticking out his pinky towards you and you hook yours around his.

“Now sleep, love.” Rafe softly adds on, kissing your cheeks while caressing your back and soon after, your eyelids flutter close as sleep is no longer inevitable and your snores can be heard, eliciting a big smile out of him knowing that you’re safe in his arms.

comments: @cherriespopsicle.

end of video. — all rights reserved © starriislxt 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[twitchmattentusiast]

CAN YOU PLEASEEE write a chris angst where he forgets about a date he planned with his gf and he’s seen out with like influencers and stuff and the reader gets sad cause she’s like “he forgot about our date but can go to a party?” and then she’s like it seems this has been happening for ages now like he’s putting them before her so maybe they break up and then he grovels to get her back

꩜ .ᐟ SECOND CHOICE, - christopher sturniolo.

the rain tapped softly against the window, filling the quiet apartment. you sat on the couch, staring at the candle flickering on the table. the dinner you made hours ago sat untouched, your phone in your lap showing chris’s last message:

“can’t wait for tonight, baby. love you.”

that was hours ago. no texts. no calls. nothing.

sighing, you scrolled through Instagram, only to feel your heart drop when you saw chris at a party, smiling with influencers, drink in hand. he’d forgotten.

tears pricked at your eyes as the realization sank in. he forgot about our date but made it to a party.

this wasn’t the first time. lately, it felt like he was always choosing them over you. every plan you made was overshadowed by another event or someone else’s demands.

the door creaked open. “baby?” chris’s voice was light, like nothing was wrong. “i’m sorry i’m late, there was this thing—”

“you forgot,” you interrupted, your voice flat. you didn’t turn around.

chris’s smile faltered. “what?”

“our date,” you said quietly, still not looking at him. “the one we planned. you didn’t even text.”

guilt washed over his face. “shit, i didn’t mean to. i got caught up, and—”

“you didn’t even think about it,” you cut him off, finally turning to face him. “you never think about me anymore. it’s always about parties, events, everyone else.”

“that’s not fair,” he said defensively. “i’ve been busy—this is my job.”

“i know,” you said bitterly. “but it feels like they’re more important than i am. i just wanted one night, chris. one night where I didn’t have to wonder if i still mattered.”

chris stepped closer, his voice softening. “you do matter. you know you do.”

“do I?” you asked, your voice cracking. “because it doesn’t feel like it. not anymore.”

he reached out, desperation in his eyes. “please, don’t do this. we can fix it—”

“i-i dont think we can,” you whispered, backing away. “i don’t want to keep coming second.”

chris’s face fell. “wait—please. i’ll make it right. i promise.”

but you shook your head, walking past him, the door closing softly behind you as his voice, full of regret, echoed in the silence.

everyone buckle up bc im going to introduce grieving bf chris !

[m0chisenpai]

Louis x reader x Armand

The reader is a witch and she meets Armand and Louis and Claudia when going to watch a vampire play. They are mesmerized by her enchanting presence, wondering what and who she is

superstitious

˚｡⋆ louis de pointe du lac x black!fem!reader x armand

˚｡⋆ platonic!claudia x black!fem!reader

in which the missing piece fills the gaps

author note: We're gonna play with the idea that Louis has somewhat integrated into coven life

Another night of plays. And a new role for Claudia. A nod to the past, Claudia plays the maid to Marie Antoinette who witnesses both affairs and murders of the king and queen.

The role is silent, but it is better than falling out a window every singe night.

As always, Louis assumes his usual spot, watching his sister perform while his companion sits above. There is peace between all three. And at the same time, a feeling of lonesome resides. Like there is something missing.

Until that evening when she enters.

Armand smells her before she even steps foot intot he theatre. It is rich, it is new. It almost smells familiar of his previous years abroad. Whoever os here, their blood sings to his dead heart. It begs for him to consume it, to be bathed in it.

Had an ancient one found their way back? He looks down into the seats. Soldiers, husbands and wives, students fill the house. But he sees nothing.

Louis catches Armand's gaze, he sees his gaze, 'what is it?'

'Something is here. An ancient thing or being. i don't know what it is. But there is power in it.'

"One ticket please." the dressed up vampire hands the young woman her ticket which she holds between gloved hands. She feel out of place in her softer colors against the dark theatre, but she alwayd did stick out.

"Vampires pretending to be humans pretending to be vampires," you whisper to yourself in awe finding your seat. "How dramatic, Prudence was right."

The act begins. Murder marks the end of all the scenes and your laughter is like a bell in the vampires ears. Armand searche but cannont find you nor can Louis pinpoint your presence. But it is intxoicating.

Then the final act happpens. The vampire troupe feast on the woman and silence fills the theatre. But you stand in loud applause shouting your praise in french. And it is as though the world ends when all three look upon you.

How your eyes shimmer in praise, how your pearly white smile lights the room. Claudia freezes witht he blood dripping. Trying to remember your face as the curtains pull shut. Armand watches as you look up, nodding your head giving your appluase to him now.

But Louis, oh he wants you then and there. But the crowd keeps him from meeting you in the aisles as you file out.

"Oh sisters it was wondrous as you said!" you whisper in awe as you tie your scarf looking in to the mirror of your flat.

"Did I not tell you it was a delight, though in their early days they were more shakespearean I suppose they choose to cater to their English crowd now."

"And did you see the leader? is he not handsome!" Your fellow sister Urydice exclaims moving Prudence aside to stand in front of the mirror.

"He was..beautiful." you shyly whisper and the girl squeals.

"Oh you must approach them! you must!"

"Enough girls return to your chambers."

"Yes Mother." you whisper your goodbyes to all the girls until she sits in front. Your leader,t he mother of your group. She is old and wise, but no age touches her compexion. Her hair large and thick is braided back and you realize how much you miss your mother.

"My darling," she whispers with a smile on her lips. "Be safe. These vampires have power. and they have numbers. Until we have arrived you are to not engage them."

"Yes mother," you bow your head and press a to your pointer and middle finger pressing it to the glass and as soon as she does the same all that is left is your reflection.

You should listen to her, but you don't.

and as you shed your robe to slip into your bed. The golden eyes that watch from your balcony disappear into the night.

That next night you sit at the cafe writing letters to your scattered sisters. Some in english, three in french and the one in italian.

"You're not from here ma'am? Haven't heard italian before," the young girl sits in front of you.

"No, I am not. But Italy is not my home." You sip from your glass of coffee.

"I must say you are an exceptional actress. The breath was taken right out of me."

"Thank you, years of practice led me here."

"From...America?" you guess.

Her eyes widen as does her smile, "how'd you know?"

"Southern accent. Heard it growing up."

"Claudia, what'd I tell you but disturbing folks?"

Yiu hate to admt how the man who joins you both at the table makes your eyes widen. Your cheeks feel hot as his gaze settles upon you. You seem to have som eaffect because he is no longer chiding at the girl.

"No, she is fine sir. Just some simple conversation is all" you tilti your head "your daughter I am assuming?"

"Ah well...yes" he fumbles his words.

"How sweet," you smile at the two now bundling your letters to drop at the post. "I should be taking my leave now. It was lovely to speak to you both."

"Claudia," she quickly shakes your hand.

"Louis."

They wish you could stay. But you toss the necessary amount by your cup and leave the two behind to watch you walk down the stony path.

One night turns into two, then three when you return again it has been a week. A week of you tryig to avoid that theatre, but they calll out to you at night. "Come, come to us." But the leader requests your presence tonight.

One of the women leads you to where he sis. The only empty seat beside him is where you situate yourself.

"When did he turn you?"

"Don't have a creator." you whisper, eyes remaining on the stage. They flicker to Louis who looks up, giving you a smile which yu quickly return along with a wave.

"You know we are not human, yet you yourself are not one ofus," now his head turns to look at you. "But you do not smell like one. And your presence..it is unusual."

"I smell?"

"Nothing like the boys of war I can assure you, it is not unwelcoming" Armand can not help the smallest of smiles when he hears your sigh of relief. "But I must ask you again. What are you if not human?"

You hesitate, remembering the words of your mother. "We are not human. In the past humans maddeneed by thoughts of God and satan killed us one by one. They stopped it from being publicized but they still hunt us to this day."

"You're a witch?"

"We refrain from calling ourselves that," your hand rests against a necklace. The very one all of you share. "We are scattered across the world to avoid any more unnecessary murders."

You pause to clap for Claudia smile as she grins up at you at the end of her act.

"Will you be in France for long?" Armand asks once you sit back down.

"I would like to be. Rome was for a moment. And I am not sure I wish to return again to Greece." Armand returns his gaze down to Claudia and Louis both steal glances at him. Anticipating.

"If you stay here, I can gurantee your safety."

Claudia adores you and spends any moment she can. Taking you to Madeline's shop and around the city and theatre while Louis walks around the city with you, taking shots of you facing the moonlight or along the river.

Armand shows you artwork from the world.

Each of them can not help but feel you fill the gap in their hearts.

They feel dizzy just being in the midst of your presence.

Then one night, as you sit atop Armand's lap. Louis hand settles at the back of your neck to look up at him. Your bare chest heaves as Armand lays kisses upon it. There is somethign electric in the air, something magical,

The candles burn brighter with each kiss. Flickering with your breathing, as though they are breathing with you.

"Stay with us," his voice a whisper. Your eyes remain on his. He whispers it again, "join us."

Your mothers words are drowned from the two.

"Yes, please." Armand lets a soft hiss as he bites into the juncture of your neck while Lousi bites into the other side. And it is liek liquid fire fills your vein and fills theirs.

It is as though you are bonded to them in that moment.

Theirs for an eternity.

[literary-motif]

In All My Dreams I Drown

Asirel Cain x Reader

Asirel experiences sleep paralysis.

Warnings: Insomnia, sleep paralysis

Asirel was not afraid of the dark. He had never been. The inky blackness of night had a way of soothing him. It seemed almost like the only escape from the crushing responsibility he carried during the day — almost because although the US slept, there were plenty of places around the world that were bussing with life and plenty of phone calls and e-mails he received during the dark hours. 

Still, it felt different. Breathing was easier during the night. He had always enjoyed being awake while the world around him slept. 

He had stretched this indulgence a little too far, it seemed. 

When he first started he had finished business at perhaps one in the morning, going off to bed soon after. One had turned to two over the years, two to three. Now when he looked up from his computer screen, it was usual to see the blue tint of the early morning light, just before the sunrise. He went to bed when the sun rose, but his daily responsibilities never lessened. 

Somehow, there was always more to do — more to plan, more to think about,  more to work out. He was always busy, and although his hours of sleep had been steadily reduced over many years, the time he tried to wake up rarely varied. 

It was becoming an issue. Asirel was very much aware of that. He had fought long and hard to reduce his hours, choosing to slip into bed as early as eleven at night, only to lie awake until the early hours anyway. 

What had started as simply an unconventional sleeping schedule had developed into a more serious issue. 

“Mr. Cain,” the blonde woman before him had said, giving him a sympathetic smile he thought she must flash to every patient. The sterile whiteness of her office nearly outshone the brightness of her coat, the stethoscope practically gleaming under the harsh artificial lights. “I am afraid there is not much I can do. Plainly speaking, it seems to me that you are under a lot of stress — if you reduce the stress, I am sure your insomnia will disappear.”

He had wanted to scoff but returned her smile with his own. It was polite, although a bit sardonic. “How do you suppose I do that, Doctor?”

She blinked as if nobody had ever asked her that question. “Well, it depends on what causes the stress, but either way I’d suggest—”

Physical activity. This time he did scoff, hiding it behind a cough. 

Working out seemed the cure for everything, just like water. Asirel, have you tried going outside more? His mother’s words had felt mocking, and hearing the same advice from this professional who did not take his ailment seriously made a bitter taste appear in his mouth. 

Headache? Drink some water. Back pain? Have you tried losing weight? Insomnia? Why, do some sports! 

Pathetic. He took the prescription for sleeping pills without another word. 

Sleeplessness in adults was very common, stress from work being mostly the cause of it, and although he supposed everyone experienced a bad night of sleep every once in a while — where they tossed and turned endlessly, without getting their mind to shut up as thoughts and worries swirled around until night turned to day and it felt like they had not slept at all — if these issues persisted for over half a month, things were no longer casual. 

Reduce the stress she had said. How exactly could he do that, when his very existence came with a relentless pressure pushing down on his shoulders? His life was heavy. He did important things, and although he loved the responsibility and influence he had — the power. He loved the power of his job — he was the first to admit that his work had cost him many sleepless nights and hours pouring over papers at his desk with seemingly no end in sight. 

The world was draining him of his strength, the love for his work — and the determination to change things according to his vision for it — faded under the relentless strain he had been under. He was at the end of his rope.

Much like a broken arm or sprained ankle, his insomnia hurt. It had causes, it had consequences. His mind felt like mush on some days, his thoughts dragging along until it took too much energy to direct their stream. His memory worsened, and the days blended — he remembered only little bursts of something, the important bits of meetings and conversations while all the rest faded to black. 

How long since he had last seen his mother? A day? A week? When had his sister called? This morning? The day before yesterday? It was all a big lump of gray. 

When had he last fed you? It must not have been that long ago, or else you would have complained.

Asirel was exhausted. He needed the world to stop for a day until he had his mind back together and ceased fraying at the edges. He took two sleeping pills, downing them with a large gulp of water.

They did not work as he had wished. He lay on his back, listening to the clock ticking on the other side of the room until his eyelids dropped, but he did not sleep. He lay awake for hours — still hours — until he slipped into oblivion, but his sleep was far from restful. 

It felt like he did not sleep at all.

He thought he opened his eyes in the morning, looking at the rays of sun streaming in through his window. He found he could not move. His heart skipped a beat, his mind slipping into a spiral of panic that the rational part of his brain sliced through with two words: sleep paralysis.

Where were the hallucinations? 

As the thought crossed his mind, he heard it. Loud banging came from the hallway, stomping that came closer and closer. His heart sped up, fear pulling him under despite knowing this was not real. He knew it, but the bangs approaching, getting louder and louder in tandem with his racing heartbeat made it hard to believe it. 

He tried to close his eyes, not wanting to see what his mind would come up with to torment him, but he could not. The room would not disappear before him, and he still could not move. 

Terror seized him, and he tried fighting the unshakable pressure pinning him down. The world around him felt like dough, his body limp around it as it was pushed into the mattress. There was a weight on his chest, heavy, unlike anything he had ever experienced before as it crushed him, keeping his lungs trapped. 

Something moved at the edge of his vision. The stomping approached closer and closer. Asirel wanted to scream. He tried, but his mouth did not comply, there was no air in his lungs. The only thing escaping him was a low whimper. The stomping came from right beside his bed.

A figure walked into his line of vision. It vaguely looked like him, but as he stared into its pale face — too pale — he saw blood trickling from its mouth. Its hair was dirty, a dark shade of blonde with specks of deep red in it. Its black eyes stared at him as it approached. 

He had never been as scared as he was now, helplessly trapped in his mind while this shadow version of himself reached out a bloodied hand towards his face. It leaned closer, hovering inches from him. 

“They’re coming to make you pay,” it said, "make you pay. Pay. For all you have done, they’ll make you pay. Pay. Pay. I’ll kill you if you don’t pay. Make you pay. They’re coming. They’re coming! Hide!”

The door flung open. Asirel felt himself resurfacing. The apparition vanished, the banging stopped and he blinked his eyes open. His brain felt numb, slowly awakening with pins and needles as he turned around. He still felt heavy, barely awake as reality slowly clicked back into place.

You stood in the doorway, surveying the room with a stance that told him you were ready to lunge at an attacker. Once you realized the room was empty, your eyebrows furrowed. “I heard your heart beating out of your chest not twenty seconds ago, Asirel. What’s going on?”

The pressure on his chest had lifted, and he let out a deep sigh as he moved a hand — relief flooding when he realized he could — to rest against his forehead. What an experience. Something still felt off, and there was a creeping terror at the edge of his mind that he could not shake. 

“Had,” he cleared his throat, closing his eyes to escape your puzzled expression, “had a— a nightmare, I suppose.” It was not the truth, but he did not feel like explaining sleep paralysis to you. The experience was still too fresh on his mind, and he feared talking about it might make it more real, turning this into a permanent curse. “Thanks for— for waking me.” Thanks for watching out for me.

You stared at him, the trembling in his voice and his still accelerated heartbeat telling you that something had shaken him to his core. “No problem,” you said, approaching him to sit on the edge of the bed. 

Asirel gave you an uncertain look. Hesitatingly, he lifted the edge of the covers. 

You chuckled, slipping in beside him. He snuggled into your arms immediately, resting his head on your shoulder and breathing in your scent. 

It grounded him, having you close. Your strong arms around him made him feel secure like nothing else could, certain that you would protect him. Despite it all, he knew he could trust you — and you knew he did as you heard his heartbeat even out and his breathing deepen. “Do you mind if I—?” he mumbled, eyelids drooping.

“Go ahead. I’ll be here when you wake up,” you said, fastening your hold on him. Asirel drifted off to sleep in your arms, catching a few hours of the most restful sleep he had had in a long time. 

[pastelpinkkadan]

I’ve seen Antis put more importance on Elain giving back TruthTeller (which she was always going to do. It wasn’t a gift, it was a meant to be a loan for the war), than the act of Azriel lending her TruthTeller.

You know, the weapon he’s let NO ONE use? Not even his brothers. In HUNDREDS of years. And how TruthTeller was described as the bridge between Azriel and Elain. How Elain stepped out of the SHADOWS and killed the King of Hybern, ending the war, with that very dagger.

But sure, the one sentence of her returning the dagger (which she was always going to do???), is somehow more important and a hint that Elriel won’t be endgame.

SJM didn’t have to write that scene with Azriel giving Elain TruthTeller at all. Elain could have killed the King with a knife that Lucien had left behind for her, or even a weapon from Feyre. But SJM didn’t write it that way. She gave Azriel and Elain that HUGE moment for a reason.

And I’m sorry, it wasn’t to “show that Elain is still going to choose Lucien” or whatever bs they keep spitting.

This was a moment to show that Elriel could happen. It was the BEGINNING, not an ending. You can’t end something that hadn’t even fully started yet!

SJM didn’t put any importance in Elain giving back the dagger. It was one sentence to continue the action of the scene, and show that Azriel has HIS dagger again.

So why are Antis giving importance to a scene that SJM herself does not?

I think we know why. ‘Cause they have nothing else and if they actually acknowledge the scene the way it was intended to be, they wouldn’t have a leg to stand on.

Honestly it reminds me of English class. You know, when the teacher asks students what something in a scene symbolizes, and there’s students focusing on something else entirely that has nothing to do with the main point of the scene? And you just kind of roll your eyes because WHY are they talking about THAT? It was a one off sentence, at best. And it had nothing to do with the obvious symbolism. Yeah, it’s like that.

[maybe-boys-do-love]

The On1y One Loves School

Maybe it's a cultural thing, maybe it's the nerd angle, but The On1y One depicts my high school experiences with so much more accuracy (excluding one kidnapping that I think we can all collectively choose to ignore) than any other show I've seen. We got a field day episode, but we haven't attended one sports event. The one party we saw was the group going out to dinner together. Riverdale this is not.

The show really understands the perspectives and emotions of these bright students. In the first episode, there's an extended sequence observing the students while they take an exam. They could've played it to show Sheng Wang making faces or talking to himself as he struggled through it. Instead we pan across the room while the gentle guitar music plays. For these kids, there's comfort in the routines of school, especially for our lead couple who've struggled so much with their home life. We get so many scenes about studying and comparing answers, teasing each other with poetic structures.

But, despite their commonality as top students, they're still incredibly realistic teenagers, and a diverse group of personalities, at that. There are clowns, class president types, popular kids, loners. Even with those differences, episode 9 with its field day demonstrated the comradery that forms amongst a class, which was make-shift and oriented more toward their teachers than comparing themselves to their peers.

The teachers and the students' relationship to them also receives the same attention to detail. In high school, students, in my experience, have dynamics that are closer and more playful with their teachers. The back-and-forth about the Class A shirts and the bet felt true-to-life. As a former teacher, the depictions of the teachers throughout the series have also been spot-on. They have different teaching approaches, different ways of relating and showing care to students, and they don't all see each other that often. If Jenny had simply received a letter from Qi Jia's parents criticizing her (instead of, you know, getting kidnapped at knife-point and then going back to field day like it happens all the time), the list of doubts about her methods would be the same as those that go through teachers' minds all the time.

I sincerely wonder if the writer, either of the novels, or someone involved with the development of the show was formerly a teacher? The show sees the school and the people in it with such detail. The reason we don't need something big (like, say, an armed kidnapping) is because the intense teenage emotions heighten all the everyday moments. Qi Jia's confusion and breakdown about belonging, Jian Tiang's 'very moments' and poetic narration, Sheng Wang's affronted attitude toward his dad: these are teenagers overwhelmed by their hormones and trying their best to make sense of everything. But the show almost always (minus a certain event that I'm done naming) observes them from an affectionate distance, refusing to turn the drama of their minds into a dramatic narrative. Instead, we get a tender view of pencil boxes, forms, studying strategies, phone notifications, or mugs on teacher's desks: the mundane highs and lows in high school infused with secret feelings that made us all feel insane.

[cynthiav06]

With Percy, we know that he hates going to school and his goals don’t really line up with Annabeth’s, but Annabeth is kind of forcing him to do it with her because he can’t say no to her. Say Rick didn’t make Annabeth Percy’s entire personality, what do you think he would’ve done in the mortal world rather than go to university?

I was checking my drafts cause I am trying to catch up on all the asks in my inbox ( as I said in one of my earlier posts I was in middle of a medical situation so I have at least a month of backlog) and found this draft.

The funny thing is I had already written most of the post in the draft version, and this ask wasn't even being displayed in my inbox, so I was very confused as to when it was from.

But it's such a good prompt and a sort of controversial question in the fandom, so I wanted to post it asap.

Percy doesn't like studies, but he knows the importance of it, so I am sure he will finish his initial college, probably either in the science or arts section. We know at one point he got better grades than Annabeth at one point so he certainly isn't quitting studies and doing way better than what people expect. He also wouldn't like just staying at home and doing nothing (I am looking at certain Percabeth stans here), so he definitely would be doing one job or another.

1.

I don't think he would study marine biology like most believe. After a conversation I had with someone who had taken the course, I am convinced Percy wouldn't like it. It's heavily based on chemistry, and we know how much Percy is affected by sea creatures being mistreated or caged, so having to study marine biology wouldn't really be something he would choose.

2.

An interesting twist would be if he chose to be a writer like his mother.

We all know that Percy writes or at least dictates and narrates the first five books, which are written and narrated entirely from his perspective. Moreover, there are books on Percy just narrating his own sarcastic takes on Greek gods and Greek heroes. What if he did actually catalogue his own adventures in those books as a sort of manual for other demigods on how to deal with certain monsters and gods and such.

Through Percy's thoughts, even as 12 years old, we can certainly say he has advanced vocabulary despite being dyslexic and given how much he admires Sally, why wouldn't he be interested in following her footsteps. Sure, he has trouble reading, but that's not to say he wouldn't love expressing his thoughts through humorous retelling of his own adventures which he can pass as fiction to normal readers but actual experiences in demigod world. Who doesn't want to know the exploits of Percy Jackson?

Plus, it's a good money hack. And don't for a second tell me he wouldn't. Sally petrified Gabe, and then they sold his statute to a museum as a sculpture and earned money off of that. So Sally would definitely encourage it, and Percy would even follow through on it just for shits and giggles and the added benefit of helping demigods and earning money.

[I literally want this to happen just for the Godly reactions. I am all for god slander, especially Zeus slander. Poseidon would be half laughing at the book and half worried cause of the sheer catastrophes his son seems to fall into almost on a daily basis.

Apollo would be having a grand time, and Hermes will be half depressed and half impressed throughout. Overall, it would be hilarious all around, and it might finally make the gods feel a bit more accountable . It's literally the Reading Percy Jackson Series trope, and that's always fun.]

3.

One other option is that Percy will get into environmental preservation, specifically the protection of Rivers and Seas from pollution by actively involving himself and others in its cleanliness and purification. He would also run Beach cleanliness programs.

I think he and Grover would become environmental activists and would definitely get into preserving forest areas and other places where nature spirits dwell frequently. I can see them doing it a lot, long-term wise, too.

4.

I think he would kind of like marine explorations, but that might cause his powers to be somewhat exposed, so he might not do that, but it's a possibility.

That's all I can think of. I would like to hear everyone else's opinions on this.