luvsupa · 4 months ago
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GOODBYE, PRINCE GOJO.
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tags: fem!reader x prince! gojo satoru, childhood enemies to almost lovers to enemies (☹️), smut, (fingering), gojo has no shame, ANGST, royalty, sad ending arranged marriage, forbidden love, kissing, mdni idk what to add..
w.c: 4.4k
a/n:FINAL PART 🥹🥹 tysm for everyone who supported me and my story! ALSO THANK U GUYS SM FOR 500 FOLLOWERS! IM BEYOND THANKFUL 💗+likes and reblogs are appreciated 🤍🤍
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the next morning, unease settles over you as you touch up your makeup at your vanity desk, preparing for family breakfast. your entire life feels like it’s crumbling. you have only two days to choose your fate. strangely enough, you’ve grown comfortable around gojo again, but the fear of him tormenting you lingers.
but then there’s nanami.
he promised you a loving future. he’s charming and everything you want in a husband. yet, you can’t have both. society would never accept it; you’d be shunned if you tried.
choosing nanami means finally being freed from gojo, the twisted curse that has haunted you. but also being sent away could benefit you, offering no drama and pure freedom from him.
this is the only way you could truly be happy.
you grip your makeup brush tightly, feeling beyond conflicted. in a fit of frustration, you throw the brush and stand abruptly, nearly tipping your chair. this decision is tearing you apart. you don’t care about your appearance anymore as you exit your room and head to the breakfast room.
⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *
you hear distant chatter before arriving in the royal breakfast room. you greet the guards kindly as you enter, finding only your mother, gojo’s mother, and ayana seated around the long table. you expected more seats to be occupied, but many were empty.
the servants were bringing plates of fruits and vegetables to the table, along with freshly squeezed juices.
ayana notices you first, scoffing and turning away. you walk to the opposite side of ayana, catching gojo’s and your mother’s attention with your heels clacking against the wooden floor.
“oh, good morning, dear,” your mother says as you greet everyone respectfully. you sit directly in front of ayana, with your mother to your left at the table’s end.
“will ‘ruru be joining us, your majesty?” ayana asks annoyingly. the queen confirms his arrival. ayana looks at you with a hint of mischief, but you’re already weary of the torment you’ve endured.
just in time, you hear his laughter echo outside the breakfast room as he chats with the guards, thanking them for their hard work. ayana leans back in her seat, trying to see gojo through the doorway, biting her lip as she eyes him.
you feel a pang of jealousy at her reaction to him—oh.
i get why.
gojo walks in with his hair fluffy and damp, wearing a white button-up with the first few buttons undone, revealing a bit of his chest. you feel yourself start to salivate as his lotus tattoo peeks out.
holy fuck, he’s hot, you think.
“satoru, dear, must you always arrive in such untidiness?” his mother inquires with a touch of regal authority as he makes his way toward you. ayana’s jaw drops as he ignores her and takes the seat beside you.
you nearly moan out loud as you inhale his scent.
“presentable for whom?” he questions in a sassy tone.
“the royal authorities and ayana’s parents will be joining us,” the queen says as gojo rolls his eyes, clearly uninterested in anyone but you.
as you wait for the remaining guests to join, gojo keeps trying to hold your hand under the table. you keep shoving him away because your mother and ayana are watching you like hawks.
gojo knows they’re watching and doesn’t care—he wants them to see. as you push his hands away for the fifth time, the guards notify everyone that the rest of the guests have arrived.
you all line up to greet each person, feeling especially awkward when greeting ayana’s parents.
eventually, you return to your seats, still sitting in front of ayana and now her parents, as well as other royal authorities along the table, and beside gojo. great.
the maids kindly serve everyone plates of their desired breakfast. the room fills with the clatter of forks and knives scraping plates, and the soft chatter of the queen and royal authorities. as you enjoy your food, you notice gojo’s plate is untouched.
“you’re not hungry? you didn’t touch your food,” you whisper, concerned about his lack of appetite. he lazily turns his head to you, leaning in.
“i want you,” he murmurs.
you hold your composure, not wanting to show a reaction as you know many eyes are on you, including ayana’s. you ignore his words and focus on eating, but you feel gojo’s gaze, intense and searching.
he won’t back down, will he?
gojo deliberately knocks his utensils under the table, the clattering noise drawing everyone’s attention. you know he has something up his sleeve.
“ahh, don’t worry about me! just clumsy,” gojo reassures everyone as they return to their conversation. he lifts the tablecloth and ducks under the table to retrieve the utensils.
just as he’s getting up from under the table, you feel his hand slide under your gown. his cold fingers trail smoothly up your calf, moving higher and higher until they reach your thighs.
your heart races. he cannot be doing this—the royal authorities are here!
your breath hitches, but you try to maintain your calm persona. his touch sends shivers through you, and the risk of being caught only heightens the tension. gojo’s fingers tease your inner thigh, his touch both infuriating and electrifying.
“please,” you whisper, almost inaudibly, not sure if you’re begging him to stop or to continue.
you nearly moan out loud as he rubs you through your already wet undergarments, holding the utensils in his other hand. “here they are! silly me,” he says jokingly, eliciting laughter from the guests. with a rough pull, he moves your undergarments aside, revealing your cunt under the table.
if anyone dared to look under, you two would be sent to the guillotine.
“be a good girl and keep quiet,” he huskily whispers into your ear. you feel yourself slowly turning to mush, his voice, his fingers, his scent—
you cannot keep quiet like this! you must look presentable, especially with ayana glaring at both of you, her annoyance evident.
gojo rubs his fingers along your slit, parting your folds and applying pressure, provoking you to the brink of losing all sanity. his long, slender fingers tease your entrance, almost inserting, but not quite. you bite your lip so hard you think you could bleed, desperately trying to maintain your composure.
shaking, you hold your fork and struggle to focus on eating. gojo, meanwhile, looks unusually pleased, a smug satisfaction on his face as he watches you squirm.
“dear, have you made your decision?” your mother asks, her voice cutting through the hushed conversation at the table. you nervously glance around, internally cursing gojo for his reckless games.
“I-I haven’t,” you stammer, feeling exposed and vulnerable as gojo pinches your throbbing clit. he smirks knowingly, enjoying your struggle to maintain composure.
“you must decide soon, mustn’t you?” gojo interrupts, his tone taunting and cruel. tears threaten to spill from your eyes, realizing he intends to torment you in front of everyone.
“I- mmf”
your whole body jolts as gojo shoves two of his thick fingers straight into your sloppy pussy, the stretch burning in a way that feels strangely good. your velvety walls immediately pulse around his invading fingers, your wetness flowing down your legs. you bite your lip to stifle a cry, struggling to maintain your composure, slowly forgetting that everyone is waiting for your coherent response.
“I will,” you frantically whisper, unsure if anyone heard your hasty response or grasped its significance. as gojo curls his fingers, finding that spot that sends shivers down your spine, you feel yourself growing weaker and weaker with each thrusting movement.
your clit twitches in desperate need of attention, neglected by his deliberate touch, heightening the risky thrill of the forbidden act.
“she would be happier away from all of us,” ayana says, attempting to provoke a reaction from you. but you’re too intoxicated by gojo’s fingers to fully register her words. your legs begin to shake uncontrollably as gojo inserts a third finger, stretching you to the fullest as he’s reaching the deepest parts as you feel intense waves of your orgasm approaching.
“ahh you would love the countryside wouldn’t you?” gojo asks again, smirking at how dumb you’ve already became from his fingers. to an outsider, you appear dazed and drowsy, your senses overwhelmed by gojo’s addictive touch. meanwhile, gojo sits composed and seemingly innocent, oh how this made you want to scream at him.
gojo sneakily snakes his other hand under the table. just as you were about to respond, he begins to rub circular motions on your sensitive nub. the double stimulation causes your velvety walls to rapidly tighten around his curled fingers, soaking both his fingers and your gown.
your brain feels fuzzy as your orgasm intensifies. your eyes flutter continuously, as you hear lewd squelches erupt from under the table as his thrusting movements quicken, eager to have you come for him.
your legs continue to shake uncontrollably as the climax rushes through you, your body tensing up. you collapse onto gojo’s chest, your pussy gushing out juices non-stop, creating a messy puddle under the table. as you catch your breath from the intense release, your arousal remains heightened. gojo holds you close, supporting you as you lean against him.
“oh, she might not be feeling well,” gojo remarks, feigning concern. he slides his fingers out of your cunt, and you silently whine at the sudden loss, your walls clenching around nothing.
wait.
you forgot that you were still having breakfast with all the royal statuses as you and gojo were acting like fools! someone for sure had to notice. you’re too scared to look around as you remain leaning on gojo’s chest.
“i will bring her to her room to rest; this topic can be overwhelming,” gojo says, and everyone believes his cover story as he helps you, guiding you out of the breakfast room.
instead of taking the direct route to your room, gojo leads you down a longer path, where fewer guards are present. he stops at a secluded corner, where you have more space to talk openly.
“do you have any sort of decorum? i almost lost it in front of them!” you exclaim, still feeling the pulsating aftermath of your recent actions. your jaw drops as you watch gojo suck his pruned fingers into his mouth, humming loudly as he savors the taste of your arousal. his bright blue eyes lock onto yours with intense lust.
“i said i wanted you,” he murmurs, seemingly dazed by the lingering taste in his mouth.
“i do not want you to go to the countryside. i want you with me,” he pleads, his eyes darting between your lips and your gaze.
“you cannot always get what you want, big boy,” you tease, your hands wrapping around his neck as you pull him into a passionate kiss. you both moan loudly as your tongues entwine, tasting your arousal on his tongue immediately.
you pull away, denying gojo’s attempt for more kisses. he looks desperate, as if he’s dying without your touch, but you reject him again.
“i have to make my choice,” you say, smoothing out his unbuttoned shirt. your hands slip inside, revealing his lotus tattoo once more. he watches you intently, recognizing your odd attraction to his ink.
“i will see you later, ’toru,” you declare, ending the encounter. with that, you take the longer route back to your room, leaving gojo flustered once again.
⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *
as gojo makes his way back to the breakfast room alone, he re-enters the bustling atmosphere where a few people notice his presence. feeling already bored, he settles back into his original seat and makes eye contact with ayana's glossy eyes.
"is my daughter alright? i didn't want her to feel overwhelmed," your mother asks gojo with concern, while ayana eavesdrops. gojo reassures her that everything is fine, but ayana grows more impatient, her leg bouncing in frustration as she knows what transpired between you two.
"all she needed was rest—"
"do you all find this quite odd?" ayana rudely and loudly interrupts, causing a stir in the conversation. her parents are taken aback by her outburst, and the room watches in confusion, waiting for her to continue with her suspicions.
"the man i am supposed to marry is all lovey-dovey for that bitch!" she exclaims, prompting your mother to scold her for her language, which earns ayana's parents a disapproving glance from yours. on the other hand, gojo glares at ayana, visibly restraining himself from reacting impulsively.
“i mean mother, father, you have not seen it all yet but all she does is manipulate my poor ‘ruru,” she continues, spinning a false narrative to fit her story.
“manipulate how?” one of the royal authorities questions, clearly curious about the drama, which could further complicate your choices. ayana shifts her attention to the royal figures, grinning mischievously.
“it’s been many times i have caught them in sexual acts together, she manipulates him into it,” she lies, faking a sniffle to garner sympathy from the authorities. “j-just the other day—oh goodness—they were going feral for each other,” she claims, drawing everyone’s attention to gojo, whose smirk infuriates his mother as he reminisces on your shared intimacy.
“and you were a witness to all of their sexual acts?” the royal authority questions again, setting his utensils down and wiping his mouth with a cotton cloth as he stares intensely at ayana.
“unfortunately, i was. i just hope her punishment increases even more—even right now! they were just engaging in sinful acts under the table! how shameful,” she continues, causing shock and discomfort throughout the room. gojo slouches back in his chair, arms crossed, and begins to laugh, confusing everyone except the royal authorities.
“ayana hara,” another royal authority calls out, catching the attention of ayana and her parents. “as of now, you have confessed to committing a taboo—” ayana’s jaw drops as the authority’s words sink in. her plan isn’t unfolding as expected.
“t-taboo? my royal authority, i-i have not!” ayana interrupts, frantically trying to deny the accusation.
"as i was saying," the royal authority declares firmly, his demeanour visibly upset at her impudent interruption. "bearing witness to sexual acts among two unmarried individuals and failing to promptly report such transgressions to the authorities is considered a grave breach of decorum and law."
ayana’s face drains of color completely. she turns to her parents for support, their eyes seeking guidance from the queen, who remains composed but stern. tears begin to trickle down ayana's cheeks as she comprehends the gravity of her confession. meanwhile, gojo surveys the room with a knowing smile, fully aware of how ayana has unwittingly sealed her fate.
"i- i do not understand, there’s certainly no law about this," ayana stammers, desperation evident in her plea as she searches for any form of support, even casting a fleeting glance towards gojo, hoping he might intervene on her behalf.
"the king and queen uphold the law of the realm without exception. as for your transgression, ayana hara, you are hereby stripped of your duchess title, and immediate banishment of the hara estate is mandated," the authorities pronounce with unwavering authority, rising from their seats in disapproval of the disruption during breakfast. the queen and your mother remain somber and silent throughout, their disappointment clear.
"w- where would i s- stay?" ayana sobs, her world collapsing before her eyes. had she only kept silent, gojo thinks.
"there exists a remote village in the southern reaches, designated for those who have fallen from noble status. there you shall reside until further decree," he continues, the other authorities respectfully concluding their business with the queen and gojo before exiting the room, leaving ayana to cry out in anguish. tears stream down her face as her mother attempts to comfort her.
the room hangs heavy with tension, your mother and the queen maintaining bowed heads. ayana's father hastily pursues the departing authorities, seeking to work out the severity of his daughter's punishment. meanwhile, gojo remains seated, quietly amused by the unfolding drama. from the moment ayana spoke out, he knew her fate was sealed.
⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *
"she was screaming all the way to her carriage, it was hilarious," gojo recounts the scene that unfolded in your absence. ayana had finally got what she deserved, and although you wish you could have witnessed it firsthand, it was satisfying to know she was facing her karma.
gojo stands in your room, recounting the events as you sit at the end of your bed. his shirt is still unbuttoned, and you notice a few more buttons undone than before.
"where has your pretty mind wandered off to?" gojo teases, his hand reaching down to gently lift your face so you meet his blue eyes.
"i am deciding on the first choice," you say, indicating your plan to move to the countryside. you don't want to be forced into a marriage with one of his distant relatives. gojo's smile fades, and he slowly lets go of your face, taken aback by your decision.
"what? no, we must figure something out," he stammers, reality sinking in as he realizes your departure is soon. "time's running out, 'toru. i have to decide, or your father will decide for me."
"no, we will go speak to them." before you can respond, gojo grabs your arm and pulls you out of your room, determined to find his parents. this time, you don't resist his grip, knowing that no matter what gojo says, the king's decision will stand greater.
as you descend the stairs, still hand in hand with gojo, you enter the drawing room to find the king and queen, accompanied by an unfamiliar woman.
“ah, perfect timing,” the king remarks as you both halt. gojo tries to speak but is immediately cut off by his father.
“son, with ayana’s banishment, it disrupts your marriage plans,” the king states.
“yes, father, but i have decided i will marry—”
“you are going to marry ayana’s cousin, rina.”
you shift your focus to the beautiful woman standing beside the king. she’s the same height as you, with long blonde silky hair draping along her back, some pieces neatly curled. her satin blue gown with white accents is beautifully hand-made as she holds a matching fan in one hand. she’s stunning.
you let gojo’s hand go as you feel utterly defeated, his plan of trying to convince the king shattered.
“dear, we ask if you can give them privacy to speak,” the queen says, ordering you to leave. gojo once again grabs your hand.
“she hasn’t decided yet, mother. she has two more days,” gojo says through gritted teeth. the queen chuckles softly at his defensiveness.
“she no longer has a choice. after the incident at breakfast, she will be sent to the countryside permanently first thing tomorrow,” the queen declares.
you can feel his anger.
“are you serious? you allowed her until—”
“i understand,” you say, cutting off gojo as he looks at you in disbelief. he cannot believe how quickly you surrendered your future.
“very well, come now, let us give them space,” the queen says, guiding you out of the room. gojo and rina are left alone as his anger boils over.
⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *
as you wander the estate, feeling under the weather, you notice nanami through a window, sitting alone in the outdoor library, writing in a journal.
you approach him, and he looks up, smiling as he gestures for you to join him.
“how have you been?” you ask, genuinely concerned for his well-being.
“I should be asking you that. i never wanted this to happen to you,” he replies, closing his journal and placing the feathered pen neatly beside it. you nod, fidgeting with your fingers.
“i have been avoiding you for a few days. i am so ashamed of what occurred, my dear,” he apologizes, his voice rich with sincerity. you immediately forgive him, not wanting to hold a grudge.
“i am being sent to the countryside tomorrow. satoru will marry ayana's cousin,” you inform him. his brows raise in shock at the speed of the decision.
“and you wanted this?”
“no, i initially wanted to marry you, then sat—“ you stop yourself before you can fully say his name, but nanami already knows. he nods at your almost slip-up.
“i believe moving away is probably for the best, but cutting all contact with all of you is the hardest part,” you say truthfully, your heart aching at the thought of never seeing them again. nanami reaches for your hands, taking them into his larger ones.
“you will always be in contact with me. i shall visit you often and write to you,” he reassures you, his voice calm and steady, making you feel more at ease. "and who knows, perhaps one day i can truly make you my queen," he adds, making you gasp at his words, almost as if he's making a promise to you.
“you are destined to make a great king,” you compliment, rubbing circles onto his hands. his cheeks tint a slight pink beneath his glasses, and he smiles humbly, a touch of warmth in his expression.
⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *
night approaches, and the maids and servants diligently pack your belongings. your room is filled with many helpers, working immediately on the king's orders. your mother and father are nowhere to be seen, their absence suggesting their disappointment in their daughter.
you quietly leave your room and make your way to the staircase, heading towards gojo's quarters. you walk down the long hallway and stand before his door, noting his initials engraved on the wooden surface.
you knock, and he swings the door open, not expecting you. his eyes widen as he sees you standing there, arms crossed, gazing into his puffy eyes—he has been crying.
“my room is filled with servants. may i sleep here?” you ask. he steps aside, allowing you into his spacious room.
“how was the meeting with rina?” you ask, turning to look at him as he locks the door, wanting to know if he has any interest in her.
“i want to move with you,” he says, disregarding your question. you look at him in confusion.
“you know that is impossible. are you truly willing to abandon your future as king for me?” you remind him. he nods, not caring about royal status anymore. you glare at him, wanting him to be realistic.
“please wait for me. i promise i will find you and make you the ruler of this estate,” he says as you step closer, embracing him. he nuzzles his head into your neck.
“i will delay the marriage until i can be with you. just, please, wait,” he pleads, and you chuckle softly at his desperation.
“there will never be a time when we can be together, ‘toru,” you say, shattering his dreams of your future together.
“y-yes, there will be. my father's illness will not last long, and my time as king will soon come. i will bring you back,” he says, choking on his words. he releases you from the embrace, sharing his plan.
you smile at his words, knowing that by the time gojo ascends to the throne, you both will have moved on with your separate lives. you take his hand in yours as you both climb into the large, comfortable bed, cuddling together as you stroke his fluffy hair. his continuous promises of your future together ring in your ears as he slowly drifts into slumber.
⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *
your bags are placed across the grand entrance of gojo's estate. through the large double doors, you see three carriages ready to transport you and your belongings. you’ve barely slept, having spent the night in gojo’s tight embrace.
standing beside your parents, you see the tears welling in their eyes at the thought of their daughter departing. the king and queen arrive, with gojo trailing behind them, a look of sadness all over his face.
“it is indeed a sorrowful sight to see you leave,” the king speaks , “but we must act in the best interest of both our families and your reputation.” your gaze shifts to gojo, whose expression mirrors the anger he felt upon first seeing you enter their home.
“thank you for your hospitality,” you reply, your voice trembling as you bow respectfully to the king and queen. the king gestures for the guards to take the remaining luggage to the carriages, while both sets of parents attempt to accompany you.
“i would request that satoru escort me to my carriage,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. gojo’s face lights up with a mix of relief and sorrow as he takes your hand, guiding you down the grand staircase. your parents and his look on in surprise at your request.
as you descend the steps, you can feel gojo’s sorrow acutely. “i love you,” you confess softly. his eyes glisten with emotion, his cheeks flushing as he averts his gaze to conceal his smile.
reaching the final step and approaching the carriage, a guard opens the door. you slip from gojo’s grasp and turn to face him.
“please wait for me,” he pleads, his voice cracking as he presses his lips to yours. unperturbed by the guards or your parents watching, this kiss is laden with his anguish. he pulls away, tears brimming in his eyes, and kisses your forehead tenderly.
“stay in contact with me, my love,” he says, handing you a letter adorned with your name and a heart. you take it, fighting back tears as you strive to remain composed.
“prince gojo, we are to depart now,” the guard announces, interrupting your moment. you give gojo a final, lingering kiss before entering the carriage. as you adjust your gown in the seat, the guard shuts the door, and you are left alone, moving away.
overcome by emotion, you burst into tears as the carriage slowly begins its journey. gojo stands at the entrance, his heart breaking with each muffled sob that escapes from within. the further the carriage travels, the more his frustration grows—unable to bear the thought of being apart from his true love.
turning abruptly, gojo rushes up the stairs back into the estate, pushing past the concerned crowd as he ignores their calls. all he truly ever wanted was you.
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lillypad910 · 1 year ago
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Chocolate Cake Milkshakes
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Chubby!Girly!F!Reader
Word count: 2450
Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! Smut, protected sex, p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), pet names (Sweetheart, Princess), parent/child favoritism that’s not reader, perfect older sibling and disappointment younger child dynamic (only for a bit), a little bit of fat shamming. Not proof read, sorry for errors!
Summary: You have a date with your boyfriend Eddie Munson, who, like the gentleman he is, picks you up from home. Your mom favors your sister once again but you don’t let it deter you from the dinner your boyfriend takes you on at Benny’s for your favorite shakes and the rest of the date spent in his van by the lake.
A/n: for my fellow chubby girls that get told they don’t need that milkshake, or can’t wear that dress, or eat like a child. You are seen, and you are PERFECT. Be that main character I know you are.
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All images found on Pinterest
Eddie couldn’t help but feel excited as he pulled his van into your driveway. His heart pounding in his chest as he stepped out of the still turned on vehicle before walking up to your front door. After a single push of the doorbell, the obnoxious ringing being heard even from outside, your door swings open. Your mother stood before him, smiling.
“Why hello, Eddie!” She greets him, “Come in, (y/n) should be ready in a moment.” She opens the door wider to let the tall boy in.
Your mother is a known individual among the residents of Hawkins, being an ex cheerleading captain when she was in her prime. Still to this day she has kept her shape.
Eddie sits in the living room on the plush plaid couch, glancing around the room. He had been to your house a few times already, but never explored. He’s always just snuck in through your window at night after your parents had gone to bed, so he takes the opportunity to look around.
There are pictures all around the room of your parents and your older sister, Stacy, but he notices fairly quickly how there are significantly less pictures of you. He sees the pictures of Stacy in the Hawkins Pageant, winning first place every time, her cheerleading photos, her photo as prom Queen and her graduation photo, but the only pictures he sees of you are you with the rest of the family. Specifically one catches his eye, you were a lot younger, maybe three or four. You were standing in front of the water at the beach, your hands in the sand as your swimsuit top’s strap was hanging off your shoulder.
“Mom, have you seen my pearl necklace? I can’t find-” you step into the living room, stopping when you see Eddie. You had on a cute dress that flowed out after your waist, cutting off at your knees. “Oh! I didn’t know you were already here! I’ll be ready in just a second, I’m sorry to keep you waiting!” You hold up your hands defensively before walking into your kitchen. “What was that, dear?” Your mother asks. “My pearl necklace, do you know where it is? I can’t find it-” she cuts you off before you can finish, “Oh! Yes, Stacy has it, she asked if she could borrow it from you last week, I guess she hasn’t brought it back yet.” Your mom simply smiles, unfazed by your smile dropping.
“What? Mom, I told you I don’t like her using my jewelry! That was Granny’s! She gave it to me-!” “Well, Stacy wanted it, you know I can’t say no to her, dear.” You sigh, being reminded like always that Stacy’s wants are more important than your own. “Now run along and finish getting ready, you’re making poor Eddie wait on you for too long. Also,” your mother glances at Eddie before turning back to you and looking you up and down, “are you sure you want to wear that dress? I mean…” she leans over and pats at your stomach.
Your eyes widen and you subconsciously suck in your belly. “I… I thought it was cute…” you try to defend your decision. “If you say so…” your mother goes back to making dinner for herself and your father. You sigh before running back upstairs to find a different necklace.
You don’t bother changing, thinking your mom was just being how she usually is. That’s until you stand in front of your mirror one final time, noticing the subtle chub of your stomach poking out of the loose fabric of your dress. But before you can even begin to pick out another dress, you remind yourself you have a poor boy downstairs waiting on you, with your mother.
You enter the living room once more, smiling at the lanky guy on your couch. “Sorry,” his head snaps in your direction when you speak. “Ready to go?” He asks you, standing up from the couch. You nod, and your mom comes running in. “You two have fun! Eddie, make sure to have her home by 11, please.” Eddie nods, “Yes, ma’am, I will.” You both leave, and as you step out of the door frame, Eddie’s fingers intertwine with yours, making you smile.
“So,” you speak once the door shuts behind you, “Where ‘re we going tonight?” He looks back at you and smiles, “I was thinking going to Benny’s for food before heading to the lake? Wayne’s off tonight so I don’t really wanna go back to my place.” His face flushes at the inclination. “Sounds good!” You smile, walking up to his van, “I’ve honestly been craving one of Benny’s chocolate cake milkshakes, those things are diabetes in a cup but they are so good!”
When you both make it to the diner, Benny greets you with a smile, “Good to see you two again,” he pours some coffee into the mug of one of the costumers at the counter before making is way over to you as you both slid into a booth by the windows. “Always happy to have regulars! Let me guess, two chocolate cake shakes and a double quarter pounder with cheese, extra fries” he says pointing at Eddie, “and a 6 piece tender basket with honey, buttered toast, and cheese curds?” he points at you. You both smile as Eddie leans over the table to you, “do we seriously come here that much?” You can’t help but laugh. “Apparently.”
When the food is brought out to you, you both dig in quickly. “I swear I will never get over this shake,” you say, leaning back into the booth’s cushion as you suck up the delicious chocolatey goodness from the large straw. Eddie nods, shoving fry that he dipped into the whipped topping into his mouth. “For real, you’ll have to beg him for the recipe one day.”
Eddie watches you sit the glass down, before ripping a tender in half and dipping it into the sauce cup of honey, quickly shoving the steaming chicken into your mouth. The soft hum that escapes you as your body sways side to side, eyes closing out of pure glee from the taste of the food.
Eddie was always happy watching you eat, from your little dances to excited squeals when the food was placed in front of you, he never got tired of it. He loved seeing you all happy.
After the plates were emptied and your shakes sucked down, Eddie went up to the counter to pay, leaving you alone to suck the last remaining drops of your shake. When he returns, he laughs as he watches you suck up the air in the glass, aggressively trying to get whatever you could out. You finally sit the glass down, “ok I’m done.” He chuckles and holds out his hands, which you take, and he helps pull you out of the booth.
You both drive down to the lake, heads banging to his new cassette tape by Metallica, his long curly hair whipping around as you giggle. “Eddie!” You laugh, trying to fix his hair when he finally stops, getting it out of his face so he can actually see.
When you pull into the lake, the sun has already set and he turns to you, “So,” he smiles, suddenly all sheepish. “What do you- hey!” You quickly unbuckle and squeeze yourself to the back of the van. His litter of blankets and pillows cover the hard surface of the folded back seats and his trunk floor. “Oh come on, Munson, don’t look at me like that.” You place your chubby cheek against the side of the headrest of your original seat. He unbuckles, that cute toothy grin on his face, before shoving himself in between the seats with you. You giggle as you pull him through, grabbing at his arm and pulling towards yourself.
When he flops through, falling with his back flat onto the bed of the van, you quickly lean over him. Your lips interlock, his arms quickly grabbing at your waist and pulling you on top of him. At first you’re hesitant, not wanting to put all your weight on the scrawny guy, but he quickly pushing your arms out from under you, making you fall flat on him.
“Eddie..!” You giggle when he kisses across your nose and cheeks. “What?” He pulls away, his brown doe eyes staring back at you. You huff, faking annoyance as you sit up, and lay your back against the side of his van. “Sweetheart,” he flips over and crawls to you, his hands brushing up your legs, as he smiles up at you, before lowering himself down to place soft kisses on your left knee. “Don’t be mad at me,” he smirks, obviously knowing you’re not actually mad at him.
His lips graze over your legs, placing soft kisses down your thighs, getting closer and closer to where you want him. “Eds…” you lower your hand down to cup his cheek as his corse fingers ride up your thighs, pushing your dress up to reveal your panties for him.
“You’re already all wet for me, Princess,” he brushes his thumb against the edge of your panties by your right inner thigh, his other hand squeezing at the fat of your left thigh. You blush, your breath suddenly getting heavy as you breathe harder. He hooks his finger around your underwear, pulling them down your legs before dropping them into the front seat. “So pretty.” He stares down at your slit, his fingers pulling your folds open. You watch him lick his lips, making you whimper. “Eds,” he looks up at you, pupils all dilated, that lovely brown color now just black. He moves closer to you, leaving a soft kiss to your cheek before leaving one on your neck. He lowers himself down lifting your legs to be over his shoulders as he goes below your dress.
You moan as his tongue moves over your folds, lapping up around your entrance. “E-Eddie…!” You gasp as his fingers dig into your hips, creating small crescents in your fat. His tongue moves slow at first, licking stripes from your slit to your clit, before flattening over your cunt. His nose brushes into your clit and you gasp, reaching down and grabbing at his hair. “S-Shit…! Eddie…!” You moan when his tongue plunged into you, spreading you open.
He pulls his tongue away only replacing it with two fingers, thrusting them into you slowly while his mouth returns to your clit. You mewl over the sensation, your legs shaking as your thighs press against the sides of his head.
His hips start grinding into the bed of his trunk, trying to get any kind of friction he can. You grip tighter at his hair, holding him in place as you come undone on his tongue, gasping for air as your vision goes white.
Eddie pulls away from you, his fingers leaving your cunt to your annoyance. “Did…” he tries to catch his breath, “did I do good?” You laugh airily, still having your brain a bit fuzzy from the orgasm he just gave you. “Holly shit, Eds. Yes.” You reach out to him and pull him closer to you, pressing your lips to his. He kisses back eagerly, the taste of you still on his lips and chin.
“Eds, I need you,” you pull away from his lips, placing soft kisses down his neck. He groans at the attention. “Fuck… ok, I know.” He pulls away for a moment, reaching into his front seat and opening the glove compartment. He comes back into view opening a condom out of the foil. He unbuckles his jeans before pulling down his boxers. You will never get over the utter size this skinny boy is when his cock smacks against his stomach.
Eddie rolls the condom down on himself, before grabbing at your thighs and lifting your legs. Your breath hitches as he presses his tip against you. You stare up at him, reaching up and cupping his face, before pulling him closer for another sloppy kiss.
You moan as his cock pushes in you, flattening your palms against the base of his neck. You nosed brush against each other as you breathe against his lips, “fuck…” he groans, placing his hands firmly on your waist, pulling you closer, letting you bottom out on his dick. “S-shit, just sitting like this feels good.” You laugh a bit, laying your head on his shoulder as he pulls you away from the side of the van, laying you against the floor of the trunk.
You moan when he starts moving, his hips softly thrusting into you, not wanting to overpower you just yet. “Shit…” he leans over you, your legs up around his waist as his are folded by your hips, constrained by the small space. “Eddie…” you moan into his ear, making him start thrusting faster. He groans, finding your hands in his before pressing them into the pillow by your head. “Fuck… you feel so good, Sweetheart.” He moans, beginning to thrust harder.
You both gasp and moan as he thrusts into you. Before long his thrusts get sloppy, and his hands drop yours, moving down to your hips, now pushing you down against his cock. “E-Eddie…!” You grip at his shoulders, both of your bodies sweating from the vans heating and the body heat you are both creating.
“God, fuck… need you to cum again, baby, please? Wanna feel you cum all over my cock.” He moves one hand in between you both, rubbing his thumb against your clit. You gasp, feeling your orgasm get closer and closer. You whimper as he leans down and kisses you again, your stomach pressing into his. You tits and belly fat rock with his thrusts, his fingers rolling your clit as you come undone around his cock. He groans at the feeling as your pussy flutters around him, his thrusts getting harder. “Eddie…!” You gasp, your post orgasm unable to come down from the high.
Almost immediately, Eddie drops his head on your shoulder, his hair damp from his sweat as he finishes.
For a moment, you both just lay there, entangled legs and arms around each other, bodies squished in the confines of his van’s trunk. You run your fingers through your hair. “You ok there, Eds?” You ask, a small giggle leaving you. “Yeah,” he sighs, “yeah, just… Need a second.” He presses his nose into you neck, leaving soft kisses on your skin. “Not gonna lie to ya, Sweetheart, you kinda tasted like one of those milkshakes.”
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@cagethemunson @spikeybatt @cherrycolas-things
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months ago
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A Guiding Hand 5
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, parental neglect, depression, inference of self harm, violence, abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: your online academics are affected by your personal struggles but your professor won’t let you give up so easy.
Characters: Raymond Smith, Lee Bodecker in the background
Note: I'm a sleepy baby.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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Another unit done. You’re not certain how you’ve kept it up but you’re just waiting for your motivation to fizzle out. Each activity, each page, you teeter on the edge of oblivion. Workbook Five is almost complete and Six will be the final for the course. There’s a shell of disbelief around you. You really did it. 
Well, not quite yet. 
You sit back and stretch your neck and shoulders. Your teachers always told you to stop hunching but your shoulders always curled forward and your neck sunk anyway. Not out of defiance, just to make yourself small, maybe even, invisible. 
You stand, fingers cold and slightly numb. It’s a rainy day and the cold seeps in as your mother keeps the radiator off. You tuck your hands into your hoodie sleeve and find your slippers, a faded old pair that used to be somewhat fluffy. 
It’s quiet. You haven’t heard your mother at all. It’s not too unusual. After a binge, sometimes she just sleeps all day and night. You don’t like it, you don’t like that it’s normal, but it’s just how she is. How it is and always will be. 
Well, you’re trying to change yourself. You can’t change her or this place. 
You open the door slowly and peek out. A habit. You emerge quietly and rub your nose with your cuff, sniffing behind your sleeve as you shuffle into the kitchen. You do your best not to make too much noise as you fill the kettle. You have a few more bags of green tea, the you’re all out. You need to go back to the grocery store but the food credits won’t come until next week. 
You turn the dial on the stove and lean against the front as the kettle sits on the back burner. You close your eyes, groggy and slightly dizzy. You’ve been staring at numbers for so long, you don’t even know what time it is. Morning at night, you can’t tell by a glance through the gray window. 
You yawn again. Maybe chamomile might be a better choice. You lift your head and lean back on your heels as you mull the decision. The floor creaks with your weight as you shift indecisively. You’re not even sure you have any left.  
As you back up, you collide with something, someone, else. You grunt as suddenly there’s a clamp around your neck and you’re shoved forward against the stove. You brace the edge, careful not to touch the top as the heat from the burner radiates across the metal. 
Lee’s chuckle brushes over your hair, “there you are, girl. You been hiding.” 
“Eek, no--” you squirm and writhe. 
He’s too strong. He pushes harder and you’re forced to bend, precariously hovering over the stove, the kettle not far from your cheek. You squeak as your slippers scuff on the floor between his feet. 
“Please--” 
“You should be begging,” he snarls, “little girl like you, messing where she shouldn’t be.” 
“I’m sorry,” you squeal, “you were hurting her--” 
“Ain’t none of your business, is it?” He jolts you and you nearly hit your head off the back of the stove. He grabs your wrist with his other hand as he pinches your neck tighter. “Your mama likes it rough, don’t ya know? Walls ain’t that thick.” 
You whine and struggle to resist him as he brings your hand up, angling it towards the kettle as you hear that water starting to hum. You can feel the heat roiling from it. You push back against him, pressing your hand to the back of the stove to get better leverage. 
“Want me to hurt you? Is that it? Tired of just listening,” he snorts, your hand shaking close to the kettle as you babble, “suppose like this, won’t be too bad.” 
He wiggles his pelvis against you and you hiccup in fear. You twitch and he shoves your hand against the kettle. You cry out as it scalds your skin, steam hissing through the spout and towards your face. Your eyes well and you gnash your teeth. 
“Pl-please,” you plead and he lets go of your arm, framing your hip instead.
He pulls you back against him, “Mmm,” he shakes his hips again, “think I could. You ain’t bad from behind.” 
Horror erupts up your throat as you scramble desperately, trapped by his weight. You grab onto the handle of the kettle, even as your burnt flesh screams, and you hurl yourself back. He staggers as you swing the heavy vessel in his direction but it only splashes on your slippers as he dodges away from you. A flare of anger lights up his blue eyes. 
“Ha,” he sneers at you, “you’re funny, girl. Got a whole lotta fight for nothing. Far as I can tell, ain’t no other man around to want you. Not even your daddy.” 
You lower the kettle, breathless and terrified. The sting of his word wounds more than the blistering flesh on your fingers. You shake your head. 
“Leave me alone,” you croak. 
“Hmph,” he curls his lips, “just you wait,” he eyes you up and down. 
You stand, paralysed by the stove. He stomps away and you watch him go, not daring to move. When you hear your mother’s door slam, you shakily set the kettle on the countertop. You turn your hand over an examine your palm, the sight of it adding to the agony. 
You don’t know how you can write now. 
📓
You tap the mousepad twice to get it to react. Your poorly wrapped hand makes everything double the task. You huff as you switch hands, awkwardly navigating to the email icon. You expand the window and find a new email. Professor Smith. 
‘Thank you for your last submission. I have reviewed your work and would like to provide feedback via Zoom if possible. Please provide times which work for you. 
Looking forward to speaking again. 
Take care, 
Raymond’ 
As usual. He is very direct. You can almost appreciate that about him and yet it does not rein in your paranoia. Feedback via Zoom? Why? Can’t he just write it down? Did you do something wrong?  
Ugh. You slump and stare at the keyboard. It can’t be avoided. You haven’t even started Six because of your hand. Maybe a review would be helpful. Besides, it would be a waste to give up now. It wasn’t so bad before, was it?  
You hit reply and key in your response slowly with one hand. 
‘Hello Professor, 
I can do anytime tomorrow.  
Thank you.’ 
It isn’t the most academic or professional response. You don’t know what else to say. You have no schedule to adhere too, you can only hope your mom isn’t making a racket. 
You send and close up the laptop. You have to rewrap your hand. It’s really hurting but you’ve been rationing the Polysporin. You just want it to heal quick so you can finish your work. 
📓
Professor Smith confirms for nine in the morning. You make sure you’re awake but your head is pulsing. Your sleep schedule is all off. You opt for a plain long-sleeved tee over the hoodie, trying to appear as presentable as you can. Nothing you own can compare to his tidy attire; you recall his sweater and stiff collar. Often, you find yourself wilting over how he must think of you. Just like everyone else does, you suppose. 
You get set up. Your room isn’t too bad. You’ve been trying to keep up on it. Your laundry is in a basket although the bookshelf is getting a bit cluttered again. Oh well, he won’t be able to see much around you. 
You open the laptop. Ten minutes to go. You can hardly sit still. Your anxiety peaks as you hear your mom’s voice from down the hall. It’s early for you, but even earlier for her. 
There’s a knock at the door, “honey, do we got any coffee left?” 
“Mom,” you get up and go to the door, cracking it open, “I left enough for a pot in the tin. I’m still waiting on the credits.” 
“Oh,” she smiles through the narrow space, “Lee musta used them the last of it.” She smiles. She’s drunk. She hasn’t just woken up, she’s been awake all night. She turns and waddles away unsteadily, “baby, we got no coffee.” 
You sigh and shut the door. You go back to the computer. Please don’t make a ruckus. You don’t need another scene. 
You click the meeting link and fidget. You’re not ready. Are you ever? Life is just doing things you’re unprepared for. 
You wince as Professor Smith appears on the screen. He greets you by name and you return a ‘hello, professor’. 
“Good morning?” He asks brightly. 
You shrug, “yeah, I guess...” you look one way then the other, uncertain, “how are you, professor?” 
“Great, thanks for asking,” he reaches for a tall mug and takes a sip before exhaling, “so, I suppose you would just like to get this over with.” 
“Um, no, er, I...” 
“Not saying anything about you,” he assures as he leans forward, crossing his arms over the desk. His eyes scan through his lens and you realise he must be reading something on the screen, “you’ve done wonderful work. I especially wanted to high light a few things.” 
“Oh, uh, yeah, I probably made some mistakes,” you clumsily click around as his image remains in the corner of the screen. You hiss as your fingers throb and open the workbook. 
“On the contrary, it’s perfect. In fact, you’ve managed to bring my own error to light. I was certain at first it wasn’t me but I went in a redid the work for Problem Eight. Clever.” 
You sit back and nod, surprised.
There’s a thump and your mom’s voice, met by Lee’s rumbling timbre. Muffled enough that their words can be deciphered but you worry it is still heard through the microphone. You clear your throat and move closer, sitting up as you bring your injured hand to rub your neck. 
“A lot going on?” Smith wonders. 
“No, sir, sorry, I wasn’t expecting it,” you shrug and scratch your cheek, the gauze rough and loose. 
“Oh my, what’s happened there? Are you alright?” 
You pause and jerk as another bang sounds and your mother’s cackle erupts, stopping sharply 
“Yes, sir,” you quickly hide your hand, “I had an accident. Um, I was going to ask... it’s taking me a while to type...” 
“By all means, we may discuss accommodations,” he assures, “I am, as ever, patient. Most importantly, you must take care of yourself.” 
“Sir,” you nod and your door rattles in the frame. “Um...” you glance over your shoulder. Why now? 
“Are you certain this isn’t a bad time?” 
“I’m sorry,” you face the laptop, “I didn’t think--” 
“Hey, you lazy bitch!” A hard rap shakes the door behind you, “get out here.” 
You go wide-eyed and stare at the screen. No. Please. Not again. 
Professor Smith’s brow ripples and his jaw squares, “it seems you’ve got some chaos over there.” 
“It’s just... I... one sec,” you bring the call full screen and search for the controls and hit mute. You stand up and go to the door, trying to block it out with your body. You open it as Lee smirks back at you, “we’re all outta coffee. Why don’t you go and get us some?” 
He holds up a ten dollar bill and flicks it against your nose, “y’ain’t got nothing else to do.” 
“I’m busy,” you say, “can it wait a few minutes?” 
“Busy?” He snips, “with what? You can watch your damn TV when you get back.” 
“Sorry, but I can’t--” 
“Lee, she’ll go in a bit,” your mother preens from down the hall. 
“I got a damn headache, she can drag her ass out right now,” he barks back at her, “it’s my money, ain’t it?” 
“Please, I’m... just after.” 
“Why? Whatcha hiding?” 
“Nothing, it’s school--” 
He shoves the door and you stumble back, hitting the bookshelf with your shoulder. He bulls past you and looks around, his eyes narrowing on your laptop. You turn to see the professor watching intently from his side of the call and you scurry to catch up with Lee and stop him. He elbows you away, tossing you against your bedframe. You hit it and crash to the floor. 
“I see, you entertainin’,” he scoffs and hits the keys several times. 
“Who are you, sir?” Smith asks, his tone cool but dangerous. 
You hear the little blip that signals the mute is off, “should ask ya the same. Whatcha doin’ talkin’ to young girls, eh?” 
“Is she your daughter?” Smith challenges and gets a chortle in return. 
“Nah, just a whore like her mother, ain’t she? You’d know better than me.” 
You get to your knees and grab at his hand, “please, he’s my professor.” 
“Don’t lie to me. Irene,” he spins as he hollers for your mother, “come see what your daughter’s doin’." He pauses to grit over his shoulder, "If ya gonna be whorin’ on the internet, you should at least try to get some money outta it.” 
“Huh, Lee, leave her alone,” your mom appears in the doorway and you crawl past Lee, keeping low as you reach up to keyboard and feel around. 
Professor Smith says your name but you hold the power button until the laptop fan slows and quiets. You sit back on your heels and look over as Lee peers around your room. Your mom sways in the doorway. 
“Who was that?” She asks. 
“I told him, it’s my professor--” 
“You ain’t smart enough for all that book stuff,” Lee growls, “go on and keep lyin’.” 
“Why do you care?” You sniff. 
“Honey, don’t be rude.” 
“Mom,” you whine, “he shouldn’t be in here.” 
“Lee, baby, I’ll go get the coffee,” she redirects. You hang your head. 
“I want her to go,” he turns and throws the ten at you, “the way she leach of ya, it’s the least she can do.” 
You wince, “it’s okay, mom, I can go.” You grab the desk and stand, swiping up the bill. You need to get out of this apartment. Staying will only make him angrier. Staying will only make she shame worse. 
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the-chosen-fanfiction · 3 months ago
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Philip | Now And Then | Romantic
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Requested by: Marie
You are certain you’ll never be deserving of a Godly man like Philip owing to your little brother’s past, but he assures you that he sees in Matthew the same thing you have always seen.
You’re not ashamed of him. Just of his poor decisions. It doesn’t make you love him any less. You’re watching Matthew across the campfire as he etches away at his wax tablet, carving perfect little letters into the material, attempting to ignore Simon’s glares. You wish you knew what it said, but alas, reading was a skill you never learnt to master despite your parents’ efforts. 
It’s not like you’re immune to Simon Peter’s intense, judgemental stares, either. Whereas it makes Matthew uncomfortable, he somehow manages to shake it off and manages to concentrate on his writing in spite of it. You’re having more trouble with it, though. 
Matthew is more than his decisions. More than his past, just as everyone else around this camp. Simon, however, gladly forgets about his own history of poor choices in favour of calling attention to those of your younger brother. Despite his time with Jesus, Simon has yet to learn a lot about forgiveness and, as it appears, common human decency. 
“Tax-sister.” The hairs of your neck stand on end at the word.
“I don’t answer to that name.”
Simon snickers. “Apparently you do.” 
You grind your teeth together and push your tongue against the inside of your cheek.
“What do you want?”
He plants his hands on his hips and gives you a long, thoughtful look. 
“Nothing just… Wondering how you still justify your brother’s deeds.”
This conversation isn’t new, quite the contrary. So, you roll your eyes and turn back to the chore that you had forsaken about fifteen some minutes ago; the stitching task in your lap. A few of the Disciples had torn holes into their tunics one way or the other, and you were able enough to fix them.
“Aren’t you going to answer my question?” Simon pressures when you don’t reply. You aren’t planning on giving him the satisfaction. The former fisherman lets out a long sigh and steps away towards your younger brother, who looks up from his tablet slightly disturbed.
“Don’t start with me, Simon.” Matthew’s voice wavers.
Simon chuckles. “Start what?”
Matthew attempts to look away, but his eyes flutter, his hand shakes as he tries to write on. When Simon leans closer to repeat himself, his breath hitches. 
“Start what, tax-man?”
“Stop.”
“I haven’t started anything just yet.”
You sharply inhale. “Simon, leave us alone! You clearly haven’t learnt anything from Jesus yet, have you?”
Simon lets out a noise. “You’d like us to just forgive and forget, huh? Wouldn’t that be oh-so convenient for you two? That you wouldn’t have to account for your sins against our people? The easy way out.”
“You think this is easy for us?” you counter sharply, “That we are proud of what happened in the past?!”
Pointing an accusing finger between you and Matthew, Simon Peter clenches his jaw. “Don’t forget that this isn’t something that just happened to you, (Y/n), this was a conscious choice of your precious little brother that he made, fully aware of–-”
“–-Five times, Simon!” Another voice cuts off Simon’s. One that is welcome, warm, and makes your heart skip a beat.
Philip steps in between Simon and Matthew. “They have asked you to stop five times now.” The usually kind man now has a firm expression in his eyes. “Can’t you read the room? Realise that your behaviour is completely inappropriate, especially since we are here now, with the Messiah leading us, personally?” 
Simon Peter huffs. “Stay out of it.”
“I won’t stand by and watch you keep chewing out my friends for something in the past. It is not like you have always made such good decisions within your morals and marriage.”
“Keep Eden out of this.” Simon hisses.
Philip shows his hands in defence. “Hey, you’re the one mentioning her by name, now. Think you’ve always been fair towards her? And does she continuously hold you accountable for things you’ve already apologised for?”
“She doesn’t mention it, because I know she has forgiven me for my wrongdoings,” Simon snaps, “These two?” He gestures towards Matthew and you, “I haven’t forgiven them. What happens between Eden and I has to do with us as individuals. What the tax-man did has to do with our entire people.”
A long sigh leaves Philip’s lips. “In that case, I implore you to listen to Jesus’ words a little closer. He has forgiven you your past, too. Something about logs and splinters, hm?” 
Simon narrows his eyes at Philip. You cannot help but smile at the man who had come to your rescue. He momentarily meets your gaze and smiles back. 
“Give it some thought, Simon.” he mutters, friendly yet serious. The former fisherman falls silent as Philip walks off.  Your gaze lingers on the man departing, your heart pleasantly beating inside your chest as butterflies flutter through your system. There is no denying that you’re definitely sweet on him, especially due to his peaceful character and staunch pursuit of Jesus Christ.
“You know you don’t deserve him, right?” Simon’s voice cuts through the air and stabs through you like a hot iron. He must have caught you staring with a dreamy smile on your face. It is wiped off right away.
Slowly, you turn to him at the unprompted, harsh words. “Excuse me?”
Simon places his hands on his hips, pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he nods towards Philip. “Him. Don’t think I haven’t seen you look at him, tax-sister.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“He would be better off with a woman of more honourable stature. After all, you’ve got a certain family name clinging to you.” Simon looks at you with such disdain that you wonder if he ever thinks you were completely behind Matthew’s decision to become a publicanus.
“That’s uncalled for.”
“So is your presence.”
“Jesus called me, too.”
Simon’s eyes flash in realisation. “That’s… Yeah, okay. But still. We don’t like traitors around here. Philip might say he doesn’t hold you two accountable for your past, but don’t think he’d see you as a marriage candidate.”
“I’m not a traitor and neither is Matthew.”
“It’s good to remain cautious.” 
You give him a look. “Caution and being straight up nasty are two very different things.”
Simon’s knuckles whiten as he balls his hands into fists, frustration on his features, until he sighs, letting out a sign of which the meaning you cannot quite determine, before he finally, at last, stomps off.
Matthew exhales shakily, his shoulders relaxing just slightly, and you give your younger sibling an apologetic look. “Are you okay?”
He nods. “I am.”
“Don’t mind him.”
“Neither should you.” Matthew muses. A rare smile graces his face. “Also regarding Philip.”
Your face flushes pink. “Hm?”
“I think I would like him as my brother-in-law quite a bit.”
You are almost inclined to hurl the tunic in your lap at your brother out of sheer embarrassment of him bringing such a thing up, and his eyes glitter almost playfully at your blushing face. It’s an uncommon occurrence that he teases you, so you decide to keep your stitching work right where it is. 
“Maybe Simon is right.” you sigh.
Matthew’s gaze slightly goes to the side, and he stands, wax tablet in hand.
“But most likely not.” 
You frown as Matthew smiles a bit.
“What do you mean?”
His gaze flickers towards something towards you before turning away. 
“I said what I said.”
Before you can inquire any further, a familiar voice behind you causes your voice to become stuck in your throat.
“Shalom, (Y/n).”
You dare to look over your shoulder and give a shiver of a smile. “Oh, hi, Philip.” 
He counters the expression albeit more genuine in nature, with no hidden shame behind it. 
“Mind if I sit with you?” 
“Not at all.” You don’t put away your stitching work, deciding to use it as a distraction from your raging mind. After all, you don’t think you are brave enough to directly look at Philip right now. 
“What are you working on?” he asks as he takes a seat.
Holding it in his direction, you show him the tunic. 
“Just patching up a few garments. Nothing much, really.” you mutter with a shrug. A thick silence follows as Philip hums in acknowledgement, leaning forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. You can almost hear your own heartbeat rush inside your ears, and you wonder if your cheeks are pink.
“Are you alright? Simon was quite mean back there.”
You nod slightly. “I’m fine. We’re used to it, anyways. Uh… Thank you for standing up for us. You didn’t need to do that and yet you did it anyway. That was very kind of you.”
Your eyes flicker up for a second to meet his. The silence that follows is pregnant with tension.
“Are we…” Philip opens his mouth to speak, thinking for a long moment, “Are we ever going to discuss this unspoken thing between us?” You are happy to have already pulled the needle through the fabric in your next stitch as he says this, for you’re certain you’d have poked yourself with it otherwise. 
“What unspoken thing?” Although you try to feign ignorance, the tone in your voice is enough to reveal that you know exactly what he is talking about. 
Philip leans closer. “I just realised… Well, there is this sort of… Mutual attraction that we sense whenever we look at one another. I know I’m feeling it, and that you’re feeling it, too. Your face says as much.” You instinctively put a hand on your cheek to feel it warm to the touch. Realising you must be flushed, you let out a sigh and put away the tunic. 
“Seeing that you’re still looking for a husband, and I’m an eligible bachelor, I’d suggest I could seek out your parents to-–”
 “–-Don’t bother.” you cut him off, harsher than intended. The moment you see his eyes fill with defeat, you sigh and shake your head. “Sorry, Philip, it’s not that I don’t like you, it’s just…”
His brow furrows. “Yes, (Y/n)?” You swallow hard as you look at him. Suddenly, your eyes feel hot and embarrassment colours around your throat. 
“I don’t deserve you.”
You have seen Philip in many situations - surprised, dejected, overjoyed - but none compares to the expression he is looking at you with right now. It seems like he is utterly dumbfounded in a whole other way than when Jesus performs a miracle, with his lips slightly askew and his brow furrowed together in confusion. “What?” he breathes, as if you have said the most ridiculous words ever known to man.
Taking a deep breath, you decide to speak your mind. “You deserve a wife with an honourable past. Someone who can make your family name proud. A woman without any… Well, without… Certain family ties.” 
Philip’s eyes widen. “You mean Matthew?”
“Of course I mean Matthew.” 
When another silence falls, you look up at Philip with watering eyes. 
“Listen, Philip. I think you’re wonderful. You’re a Godly man. And I owe you so much for being so kind to my little brother. But that’s exactly why I don’t deserve you. Even though Matthew has made those past decisions by himself, it made me an outcast, too. He is still my brother, no matter what happens. I-I don’t want you to have to deal with the shame and guilt and–”
“–You know it doesn’t matter who you were, right? It doesn’t matter to Jesus. It would be selfish and I daresay ignorant to say it would matter to me.”
You sniffle, wiping a stray tear away from your cheek. “I just don’t deserve you.”
“Says who?”
“Says–-” You gulp and look over to camp, where a few of the Apostles are arguing about supper. “Simon.”
Philip clicks his tongue. “Simon says things all the time. Doesn’t make them true.”
“Perhaps he’s right about this one–”
“(Y/n).” Philip mutters. “Simon doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You know how he can dwell on the past. He still has a lot to learn.”
Letting out a shivering exhale, you wipe dry your cheeks. When a sudden warm hand swipes a tear off your cheek, your breath hitches. Philip kindly smiles as he touches your face, his dark eyes glittering softly.
“You know I’ve been sweet on you for a while now. I think we shouldn’t let Simon decide what we do with our lives, hm? If… If you’d have me, I’d love to stop by your parents’ place next time we’re in Capernaum… And see if we can arrange things. Only if you want to, of course.”
Barely able to believe your own ears, you feel a wide smile spread over your face. “Oh… There’s no one I’d rather have. I know you’re a Godly man. You have always seen in my brother what I have seen in him. That speaks volumes of who you really are. What you are like. That you understand and carry out what Jesus has been preaching on forgiveness. It… It would be an honour to be your wife.”
Philip grins, gratitude sparkling behind his eyes.  
“Then it’s settled… Almost.” he corrects himself, barely able to contain his excitement. “I see those Godly qualities in you as well, (Y/n). Your patience. Your gracefulness. Your forgiveness and tenderness towards others, even when they give you the cold shoulder. No, (Y/n)... The honour would be all mine to call you my wife.”
Your heart leaps inside your chest at the words and your face hurts from how broadly you are smiling. 
“I’m sorry I cannot bring you glory.”
“And I require that as much as Jesus does.” he whispers, “I’m just as holy as you are.”
Biting your bottom lip, you hum. “Then I suppose we’ll be alright.”
He reassures you with a gentle look. 
“No matter what happens, we will always be.”
You don’t doubt it for one second.
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octoqueen10 · 4 months ago
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It's My Birthday!!
I'm so grateful for everyone in my life, physically and digitally. It's been a difficult year for me, but I am grateful for all the blessings I have recieved.
Without further ado,
Daphne's Quinceañera
(I do not celebrate quinceañeras in my culture, although I have been to a few, and apologize if I got anything wrong, not my intention at all)
It was finally here. The day where Daphne transitioned from a child to a woman and Daphne had dreamt of it her entire life… It was less than a week away but all Daphne could feel was dread. The party was perfectly set up, the food was gorgeous and made by Gourmand, a renowned chef, and her dress was breathtaking, handmade by her mother after months of work and research. Everybody felt ready to leave Daphne’s childhood behind. Everybody except for Daphne. She loves her independence, but ever since her relationship with Micheal, a popular boy at her school, ended she was feeling empty and worried that she would be alone forever. She pushed those feelings down and waltzed into her showroom, being meticulously organized and set up for the party of the century. Daphne inspected and approved the decorations, before leaving to call her father. Right when Daphne was about to hang up, Henry answered the phone, sounding out of breath. “Oh hey Daphne,” he panted, “what’s up?” He had been going on a run on his treadmill, his most recent escapade to stay young forever. Daphne reminded him of her birthday to make sure that he wouldn’t miss his flight and chatted with him about her life in school, growing more exhausted and insecure by the second. “Daphne, you’re smarter than this, I know you are. Why can’t you be more like Allison was in school?” Henry questioned after hearing about her most recent Biology quiz. Daphne simply sighed, knowing that Allison could do no harm in her husband’s eyes, and quickly changed the subject. After a few more minutes, Daphne said goodbye to her father and started working on some of her birthday Instagram posts.
Meanwhile, Donita was trying to keep it together, for Daphne’s sake. She wasn’t ready to see her daughter, her baby, become a woman. She could still remember her playing with her barbies, babbling on and on about something or another; now she was talking about relationships and future careers. Donita just wasn’t ready. She knew this day was coming, she just didn’t realize it would come so quickly. Daphne, on the other hand, seemed completely confident and ready to be a woman and make her own decisions. Donita wanted her to be able to have the space to do that, but worried Daphne would make the same mistakes that she did, leading to unnecessary pain and heartbreak. Speaking of Henry, Donita was finally going to see the famed new wife, Allison. The woman who caused Henry to ask for a divorce and caused the downfall of her daughter’s relationship with Henry. She wasn’t sure how she would manage to sit next to her ex and the new wife for an entire day, but for Daphne, she would manage. 
Mere hours before the ceremony, Daphne and Donita were about to hit a breaking point. Daphne quietly uttered to her mother, “I don't know if I can do this mom. I don’t want to be an adult yet,” which just about shattered Donita’s heart. Turning to her daughter, Donita had a nice talk with her daughter about all the mistakes she made and who she was at fifteen. It seemed like a lifetime ago, all those crisp autumn days in Greece, with Donita dreaming of leaving to see her life truly start. They both realized that just because Daphne was going to be a woman officially in a few hours, she didn’t have to give up her childhood.
Daphne’s 15th birthday party was one for the books. Her whole night went almost as well as it could have, with only minor incidents occurring between the guests, notably her parents. Donita didn’t end up meeting Allison after all, taking more and more obvious ways to avoid her. Daphne’s dress was as show stopping as she had always hoped, and everyone seemed happy for her. All the gifts she got from her family were so thoughtful and pretty and she was so grateful to have such a wonderful group of friends and family members who really loved her. Growing up was hard, but Daphne Donata knew she could do it.
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basilone · 11 days ago
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22 for Nora Graham from the trio prompts?
Thank you for sending this one! Prompt 22 is a red convertible, a priest’s collar and dogtags... which naturally made me think of Nora & Crank! 😊 I hope you will like this one.
It’s remarkably easy to hide this.
It helps, she supposes, that most days when she walks out the girls aren’t clamoring a where are you going, Nora at her. They used to back when they were in training, but she’s well-practiced enough to make everything she does sound like a great boring yawn. Just going to grab another cup of coffee, just going on a walk and watch the birds, just going to find a place to sit and draw my maps in peace, and nobody bothers to ask to come along to any of that.
She sometimes wonders how it is that they didn’t wash out. Tiny spends more time gossiping than anyone she knows, but yet managed to get her pilot license just fine. Val and Push are some of the most combative arguers she’s ever met, getting into trouble for it until they’re airborne and doing their jobs better than anybody. By all rights, Frosty should have been on the outs when the brass figured out just what that Lombardi surname was about – all Chicago mob in that girl, right down to her stash of cash and jewels – but then Frosty’d calculated a bomb drop with alarming accuracy and that had stopped them all cold.
Nora supposes beggars can’t be choosers in a time of war. Whatever she considers to be their personal flaws – Max calling girls pretty but never calling a man handsome, One-Eye’s refusal to sleep without her teddy, Dee’s hatred of men’s mustaches – are things that Colonel Huglin and Colonel Harding both wouldn’t give a damn about. As long as they can fly right, it hardly matters what they do when down on the ground.
“You’re doing it again,” says Charles, then, all soft admonishment beside her.
She allows her grin to stretch to the corners of her mouth. “Doing what?”
“Thinking too hard for the occasion.”
“One of us ought to,” she says, turning her head only to find him smiling at her already. “Just realizing that nobody cares what we do as long as we’re able to get into a bomber and give hell to everyone who deserves it. It’s a sole purpose sort of thing, you know?”
“Hmm.”
“That’s a hmm, Nora, you are clever but I disagree sort of hmm.”
“I wouldn’t say nobody cares.” His voice is as earnest as his eyes – soft yet unyielding – and a soft sigh accompanies his words. “They care enough to send us to a flak house, or give us weekend passes when we really need them. They care enough to keep us grounded when we fly too much. Buck would’ve passed out if they’d made him fly one more run, but they sent him to barracks and made Lottie fly with DeMarco day before last.”
“Which was a great decision, considering that she is finally realizing this fad of hers with Darlene won’t last and DeMarco’s solely responsible for that realization hitting her at all,” says Nora, rolling her eyes a little to let Charles know just what she thinks of all that. “It was like being in a plane with my parents, who’d also pretend everything is fine while making you feel miserable over dinner. Val kept talking over comms just to stave off how unbelievably awkward it was to have DeMarco in our plane. It took two hours before Lottie gave him more than one syllable answers. Two hours, Charles!”
“At least they’re talking again now, aren’t they? I would say it worked out all right.”
“Of course you would say that, you weren’t stuck in a bomber having to give directions to two pilots who both like the same girl,” snorts Nora as she gives him a nudge. “I still don’t think that’s a lot of care going into those sorts of decisions, you know.”
“If nobody cared,” he hums, taking a sip of his coffee, “I could marry you tomorrow without either one of us being sent home about that.”
Nora feels herself flushing crimson from the root of her hair all the way down to her toes. “I thought you said we had to wait until we got home? That you wanted that sweet red convertible to drive us off into the sunset with?” she teases, remembering some of his more fanciful daydreams she had laughed about before realizing he was really quite serious. “Maybe we should get married – find someone with a priest’s collar to do the job – and just not tell anybody.”
Charles’s eyes crinkle into a broad smile. “Don’t have a ring,” he says, ducking his head slightly as he takes a bigger gulp of his drink. “Am saving up to get you one. That’s easy enough, just need to avoid playing craps with DeMarco for a while...”
“We could… exchange dogtags. Or ask Two what sort of thing she’s exchanging with Blakely the second they go on leave.”
“What?”
“Apparently they’re getting married,” shrugs Nora, having mostly learned this through Tiny’s inability to keep quiet about anything. “They’re being too obvious about it, once you know where to look”– Two’s post-flight smiles, Blakely’s refusal to dance with other girls –“but I suppose not everyone is as good as us at hiding that sort of thing. We could pull a sneak wedding off better than they could.”
“Or we could wait,” he says, hand finding hers, “and do all of it better than they could. None of this hurried business where you don’t even have a dress for the occasion. I want us to have a moment, Nora. Something just for us, without…”
“Without the war peeking around the corner asking us to get back into our bombers,” she sighs, dropping her head onto his shoulder. “I know. I want that, too. That moment with you, where it’s nothing but us, where it’s just love. I was just…” Being silly, she almost says, except she doesn’t think Charles would find it silly at all. “I was just getting ahead of myself.”
“I was there with you. Ahead and terribly in love with you about it.”
“Really? Tell me more about that,” she smiles, lifting her head off his shoulder just to kiss his cheek. “How in love are we talking, hm?” She can’t help but giggle as he takes his time to set his coffee cup down. “Oh, you need to take a moment, Charl–mmph!”
“More than a moment,” he laughs, once he pulls back from their kiss. “I am, after all, very in love.”
“Keep talking,” she says, before kissing him briefly.
“Can’t,” he breathes as her hands slip into his curls, “unless by talking you mean…”
Nora tilts her head. Nudges her nose against his a moment. “Kiss me more?”
It shouldn’t be easy to hide this. But for now, toppled over in the grass and laughing about it, Nora is glad this is the one thing she doesn’t have to share.
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escapismqueen · 2 years ago
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Chenford + drunk confession
Hey, here’s a little fic for your prompt. Thank you for requesting it, I really needed the inspiration 😂💕hope you like it 🥰
A Chenford pre-relationship fic- How do you know ?
Lucy is having a rough day, so with the help of Tim, Nyla and Angela take her out for the night. But what happens when Lucy drunkenly confesses something to not only Angela, but to Tim as well ?
Inc: Fluff, hurt/comfort, protective Tim, Angela, Nyla and Lucy being adorable
Warnings: alcohol consumption and talk of a difficult parental relationship
Tim looked over at Lucy in the shop, eyebrows scrunched in concern at her lack of conversation. Usually, she’ll have told him 3 different stories by now, wether they be from childhood, police academy or just last night; she always had something to tell him. And as much as Tim would complain and exclaim that there was to be ‘no personal talk’ in the shop, he secretly loved it and felt excited every time Lucy opened her mouth.
“You okay ?” He stares at her every few seconds, his focus on the road suddenly seeming unimportant and dull. Lucy’s head swings towards Tim’s, his words snapping her out of the trance she’s been in for the past half an hour. “Hmm? Oh, yeah, I’m fine” she answers in a tone of voice that is fooling nobody; especially not Tim Bradford.
Tim breathes out, hands clenching around the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as his agitation and anxiety rises. Lucy always tells him what’s wrong, she even gave him a 20 minute speech once about how ‘it’s important to acknowledge your own feelings so you don’t get lost in them’. She’d told him this when they got called out to a Domestic- the couple had been arguing every night for a week and had several calls made about them to the police; turns out that they were just missing each other because they’d both been working late. Lucy had a lot to say on the matter.
Thinking about a way to approach the subject without pushing her too hard, Tim keeps glancing at Lucy, eyes darting back and forth between her and the road. Her silence doesn’t diminish, so Tim makes a decision that even has him questioning his professionalism. He pulls the shop over to the curb, feeling confident that today is a quieter day, and there’s been no calls to them as of yet.
Lucy casts her gaze towards Tim hesitantly; did he just pull over ? It’s not their lunch break yet and they haven’t had a call, what’s gotten into him ? “Tim, wha-“
“Tell me what’s going on” he looks at her with an impatient expression, jaw slightly hardened and his whole body turned towards her. He may be trying to seem annoyed, but Lucy doesn’t miss the worry that floats in his eyes; she’s seen it enough times to know when it’s there. “It’s nothing important, honestly I’m fine.” Tim sighs, the look of disbelief that crosses his face is almost humorous, and Lucy wound have laughed if she didn’t feel so crappy.
“You’re fine ? So that’s why you’ve not said a word all day and why you’ve been moping about looking outside your window ? That’s fine is it ?” She looks at him with exasperation, though she’s privately flattered that he cares this much. “It’s my Mom” he nods in understanding; this explains her mood. Tim knows Lucy Chen like the back of his hand, and he knows how complicated her relationship with her Mother is, so whatever problem she is currently harbouring, it can’t be a good one.
“It’s just, we haven’t really spoken properly for a while, since she said all that stuff about my job. But it was her birthday yesterday so I called her up last night, and she just- she just completely tore me down in any way she could ! It was either ‘you’re stupid for staying at this job’ or ‘you’re not being a very good daughter’ or ‘have I had any dates recently, because a man ‘won’t wait forever’” she rolls her eyes in frustration, her hands flying up to emphasise every word she utters. Tim can’t help but focus on the last one ‘a man won’t wait forever’, he may not know everything when it comes to love, but he knows that a man in love would wait, and he would wait until the end of time for a woman like Lucy; he knows he would, but he’s not about to tell her that.
“I’m just so sick of feeling small around her. I’m sick of never feeling good enough in anything I do!” Her anger is clear from any angle, wether she could be heard or not, her body language screamed rage, hurt, exhaustion. Tim can feel his heart tighten at the sound of torment in her voice. Lucy is the epitome of sunshine, and so seeing her any different feels wrong. He thinks for a moment, unsure if he can say what he wants to, he doesn’t want to overstep and upset her even more, but they’ve been through so much together, and each of them trusts the other with their life, so he convinces himself to open up.
“Listen Chen, I don’t know if this is my place to say, but I’m going to anyway” he takes a breath and looks deeply into her eyes with sincerity. “Nobody, and especially not your Mom, should be speaking to you like that. You’re feeling angry and upset because the way she treats you is wrong and just because she gave you life, doesn’t mean she gets to decide what you do with it. And for the record, any man stupid enough not to wait for you, doesn’t deserve you in the first place.” Tim’s eyes widen slightly in surprise at himself; sure, they’ve had heart to hearts before, many times in fact, but has he ever said anything that personal regarding her love life ?
Before Lucy can give her response, Tim cuts in, anxious to sway her mind from the last thing he said. “I’m just saying, it’s okay if you need to cut her out completely, at least for a while. You may be her daughter, but she’s your mother, and mothers aren’t supposed to cause their daughters pain.”
Lucy is silent, her mind digesting every word that she’s just heard. She needed this. Other than Jackson, everyone else had told her that her mother only had her ‘best Interest at heart’ but it’s easy to say that when you haven’t lived with it your whole life. And here Tim is, saying easing her worry and guilt by completely validating her feelings, and telling her that it’s her Mom that’s in the wrong. She didn’t realise how much she needed to hear it from somebody else, and now that Jackson is gone, she thought she’d never hear it again. Lucy knew that Tim understood that she felt a certain way towards her Mother, but she hadn’t realised he knew just how much he understood. In a way, she supposes she should have considering what she knows about Tim’s dad, but when her Mom signed her up to have her eggs frozen, Tim’s response had been “or, she’s just looking out for you knowing how busy you are” so it’s safe to say his response to this did surprise her slightly.
Lucys continued silence starts to ring alarm bells in Tim’s head “Lucy, I’m sorry, I-“
“No, no, don’t be. You don’t know how much that meant to me, so Thankyou.” She gives him a reassuring smile and a grateful stare that she hopes he doesn’t miss. “And you’re right, I think I’m going to tell her we can’t speak for a while, even on holidays.” Tim nods in agreement, happy that she’s realising she deserves to be treated better. The look between them doesn’t falter for a second, a depth to their stare that says more than words ever could. Both of them gulp in anticipation, not quite knowing what feeling is lingering in the air.
“Assault Suspect heading on foot towards Brook street, white male, black suit, suspect is armed” Lucy and Tim are brought out of their haze by the sound of the radio. Tim knows immediately that they’re close to Brook street, he saw it just before he parked the shop. And he now knows that whatever moment he and Lucy were just having, is very much over. “7 Adam 19, pursuing suspect on Brook street”
Later on at the station
Angela walks up to Tim, a determined stride in her step, and a mischievous glance on her face. Oh no, the last time Angela had this look on her face, she’d told him to fire her maid of honour, what could she possibly have in mind now ? “What’s happening?” Tim asks warily, failing to hide the humour in his words. Angela smirks at him and wiggles her eyebrows “Timothy, I have a task for you” Tim’s eyes narrow, the teasing tone and full name that she uses, causing him uneasiness; and Angela knows it. “Spit it out”
“I need you to be the chauffeur for a girls night tonight.”
“What ?! No! The game is on tonight, why can’t Wesley ?” He looks away in exasperation, hands thrown up either side of him. Angela sighs impatiently, she hasn’t got time to lay all the groundwork out for him, and tell him all about Wesley’s new case that’s been keeping him late at work; she’s supposed to be in a meeting right now, so she uses the only card that she knows will undoubtedly work “it’s for Lucy”. Tim’s head snaps her way with force, an intrigued expression now replacing his previous exasperated one.
“What is it ?” Angela smiles in victory “wellll, I noticed Lucys been a bit down today, so Nyla and I decided that we’re taking her out tonight. And you are going to happily take us and pick us up so we can all have a nice drink.” Her eyebrows begin to raise again, arms crossing in defiance, there’s no way Tim is getting away with a ‘no’ on this one. He sighs in defeat, puffs of air releasing through his lips “Fine, what time ?”
At the bar
Angela, Nyla and Lucy sit close around the table at the bar. They arrived almost two hours ago and Lucy has had the absolute pleasure of ranting all about her problems, with Angela and Nyla backing her up and listening intently to everything she said. They were right- she needed this. Nyla raises her glass of water, a smile on her face and a relaxed, peppy air about her. “Here’s to living our lives by our own choices, and not giving a fuck about what anyone thinks of it.” “Damn right” Lucy and Angela comment in unison. A look of recognition crosses Nyla’s features and she re raises her glass, both Angela and Lucy looking on confused. “And here’s to Tim Bradford for forgetting that I’m pregnant, so could have easily been the designated driver tonight.” Laughter erupts from the table in a ferocious parade, onlookers smiling at the joy of the clearly close friends.
“Okay, I’m gonna have to run to the bathroom because this baby is jumping on my bladder like nobody’s business” Nyla gets up from the table , a quick skip In her step, and Angela takes the private moment to ask Lucy something that has been on her mind. “So, how’s things with you and Chris?” Lucy looks up, eyes particularly bugged out for the casual nature of the question, which doesn’t go unseen by Angela. “Oh? Erm, yeah, things are fine-great, yeah, we’re good” Angela’s left eyebrow arches at the fumbling of Lucy’s words. She asked this question for a reason; she knows Lucy isn’t happy with Chris, she’s aware she’s settling because she thinks she can’t have what she really wants- Tim. But she knows Tim Bradford, and Tim Bradford wants Lucy Chen. She’s so desperate for those two idiots to figure it out, so she prods her more.
“You don’t seem too confident in that answer” By now, Lucy’s had a few drinks, and her usual barrier she puts up of hiding feelings for Tim, was getting weaker by the second. “Mmmm, I mean, Chris is a nice boyfriend, but I’m just not sure he’s great for me” Lucy winces and drops her head into her hands, instantly regretting revealing such things when she hasn’t even said them out loud to herself yet. Angela rests a comforting hand upon Lucy’s forearm, and pulls her hands away from her eyes, getting her to look at her own. “Look, I know it’s not exactly my business, but nobody in the history of time has ever referred to their boyfriend as ‘nice’ when things were going great. It’s easy to settle when you think you don’t have a chance at what you really want, but If I were you, I wouldn’t give up so quick.”
Lucy’s brows scrunch in bewilderment. Angela hit the nail on the head with everything she said; maybe a little too much- what does she know ? Have a chance at what she really wants? What would make her say that with the little information she gave her about Chris?. Her mind begins to turn foggy, and before either of them can think through the question anymore, the alcohol hits them and the only thing they want to do is dance.
“Nyla !! Come over here ! We’re dancingggg” Nyla lifts her head on the way back from the bathroom, chuckling at the state of her two friends. “I can see that” Lucy’s smile is bright and she appears to be much more carefree than she was this morning. Nyla can’t help but give in to temptation and join them both on the floor, each of them being spun around by the other, drunken and sober giggles flying through the air. This is definitely what was needed, Angela and Nyla included. Angela has been feeling the stress of being detective pretty hard lately, and Nyla has been dwelling constantly on the baby and if either of them will be safe; a night with their girls is just what the doctor ordered.
3 hours later, Nyla calls Tim and asks him to come and pick Lucy up. Already getting in his car, he puts his phone on speaker and tells her he’ll be there soon. “I thought you and Angela needed a ride too.”
“Yeah, we did, but Wesley’s just got out of work and said he’d pick Angela up, and I’m going too because my place is closest to theirs” she peers to her side at Angela, face questioning wether she had sufficiently excelled in the task. Angela bobs her head rapidly, eyes scanning the room to see if Lucy had returned from the bar yet, cautious of getting caught. The thing is, Wesley wasn’t working late tonight, and she had known that from the beginning, but Angela had plans of her own, and that included getting Tim and Lucy to open up about their feelings; she just decided to give them a little nudge.
“Okay, if you’re sure. I’ll be about 5 minutes” “okay cool, bye.” Nyla turned to Angela, a humorous smirk etched upon her lips “you’re a menace” Angela laughs and pushes Nyla’s arm with a playful shove “a super smart menace”.
“Who’s a super smart menace?” Lucy questions, clearly her trip to the bar had been a short lived one. But In Angela and Nyla’s luck, she was much too inebriated to notice the deer in headlights expression that was notched into their faces. “Oh, nothing, just someone in a case we worked on last week” Angela sends a promising smile to Nyla, eyes seeking the appraisal for her lie that her drunk self wanted. Nyla nods towards her with an over exaggerated smile and thumbs up, her demeanour taking that of a Mother who’s child had just gone potty for the first time.
Nyla’s phone buzzes, gaze averting from Angela and Lucy, who are currently wobbling, leaning on each other for support- yeah, it was time to head home. Thankfully, Tim and Wesley had arrived at pretty much the same time, so the women parted ways safely and made their way home.
Tim grabbed into Lucy’s waist and reached his hand out for hers when she stumbled on her own feet. “How much did you have to drink?” Lucy giggled troublesomely, her hiccups giving away that the number of drinks she had was worryingly high. Tim sends her an amused smile, mind feeling slightly more at ease to know that he’s with her whilst she’s like this. “Okay, let’s get you in the truck” he utters it so adoringly that drunk Lucy can’t help but tear up. “Thank you for picking me up Tim, I know the game was on *hiccup* tonight”.
As Tim puts Lucy’s seatbelt over her and clips it into the holder, his mind runs wild with how she knows that the game was on tonight. He didn’t tell her, and she doesn’t follow football, so how could she have possibly known that ? Curiosity usually doesn’t get the best of him, he’s usually one to not care why people say what they say, but this- he must know. “How did you know the game was on tonight?” His voice has heightened in curiosity, hands still rested safely on the seatbelt, but as he looks to Lucy for an answer, he is met with her angelic-like state of sleep. In theory, you’d think that tussled hair, open mouth and slight snoring wouldn’t be that cute, but to Tim, she looked perfect.
Shaking his head of the thoughts a man in a relationship shouldn’t be having, he gently closes Lucy’s side of the truck and hops into the drivers seat, making his way to Lucy’s apartment, his eyes glancing over to her every once in a while to check she’s okay.
As Tim parks outside of Lucy’s building, he softly whispers her name and rubs her arm up and down to wake her. No response. “Lucy” this time, he gets a reaction; she begins to mumble and curls herself up to the window of the truck. It’s clear to Tim that she’s not going to wake up, which leaves only one option- he’s going to have to carry her.
Opening Lucy’s door, he carefully unfastens her seatbelt so he doesn’t wake her in the process, and places an arm underneath her thighs, other arm wrapping around her waist. Tim lifts her with no struggle out of the car, and repositions her over his shoulder so that he has a hand free to open the door to the building and her apartment. The elevator was luckily empty due to the time, and Tim was able to comfortably stand in the middle with Lucy sprawled over his shoulder.
As he unlocks the keys to her door, he begins to notice her stirring in her sleep, alerting him that she’s probably going to wake up sooner rather than later. He closes the door and paces his way slowly over to her colourful sofa, laying her down lightly upon the pillows. He crouches down and watches as her eyes stir, leisurely blinking to adjust to the brightness in the room. “Hmmm” Lucy’s gaze sets upon Tim, her drunken state smiling at him, rather than questioning how she got upstairs.
“Hey sleeping beauty” he teases with a smirk, laughing at the irritated glare she’s directing towards her table lamp. “Guessing you had a good night” Lucy breathes out slowly, moving her body so that she’s sat up facing him. “Can I have please water some ?” Tim raises his eyebrows in amusement; he’s never seen drunk Lucy before, he’s seen her slightly tipsy but this is another level, and he’s not going to deny that it’s the best thing he’s seen all week. “I’ll go and get you some water now”. Tim stands from his position and strides towards Lucy’s cupboards, reaching for a glass and filling it up with some cold water.
“Tim?” He hums in response, eyes still watching the water filling the glass. Lucy is looking over at him, her chin placed comfortably on the back of the sofa, eyes inquisitive. “How do you know if you’re settling for someone ?” Tim freezes to his spot, turning off the tap quickly as the glass overfills due to his surprise. “Erm, I don’t know” he thinks for a second of how to answer her question, but once he realised she probably won’t remember tomorrow, he begins to answer her. “I suppose you’re never really at your full happiness with the person, because there’s a part of you that doesn’t actually want them. I guess you just feel a little empty at times when you’re around them” as Tim unload his thoughts, he realises that he may have just said something that he needed to hear himself, but it’s 1:30 in the morning and he’s not about to delve down that hole.
“Why do you ask?” He walks towards her and hands her the glass of water, their fingers grazing across each other and sending sparks of electric through their bodies.
Lucy looks at Tim with a thoughtful leer, head spinning trying to come up with the words her brain wants her to say. “Mhnnnm, I’m not sure I like him- Chris, I’m not sure if I have proper feelings for *hiccup* him.” Tim opens his mouth in shock, eyes bulged and heart rate increasing with hope; he thought she was happy with Chris, but knowing that that might not be the case, he feels himself feeling lighter for the first time in weeks. “I bet you’re a great boyfriend, Ashley’s veryyyy lucky” Tim smiles in disbelief, worrying he’s imagining this in his head, so he says the only thing that he can think to say “thank you, Chris is very lucky too.”
“What do you think of him ?” Lucy questions, eyes scanning Tim’s face for any tells. “I uh- he’s nice” Lucy chuckles and recalls earlier on that day “Angela said that saying that is usually not a good thing” he’s stuck for words now, because Angela’s right, he didn’t mean “nice” in a good way, what he meant to say was ‘he’s definitely not good enough for you’, but now was not the time nor the place for it. “Yeah, well Angela says a lot of things” he brushes off Lucy’s question and tries to divert her attention elsewhere “drink your water”. As she takes a sip, her eyes become heavy with sleep, her bed calling her loudly. “I’m going to sleep”
Tim catches her as her head lulls to one side glass caught in his other before it can shatter to the floor. “Okay, just drink this and then you can go to sleep”
“Ughhh, Tim, I just wanna sleeeeep” he chuckles once again, debating wether or not he should film this so he can tease her about it at work; the look on her face would be a sight to see, but he decides against it as she begins to cry. “ I just- I just wish love was easier. Like- I wish I just felt at one with Chris, I wish it was easy and I wish I *hiccup* could just be myself- like it is with me and you.” Tim’s eyes glaze over and he can’t help but brush a tear from Lucy’s cheek, the need to envelop her growing stronger by the second. His brain short circuits at the declaration of her words. ‘Like it is with me and you?’ Is she saying she has feelings for him, or is she just stating that it’s easy with him, no romantic implication behind it ? It’s safe to say that she’s caused his mind to race wildly tonight.
“Lucy-“ “I’m tired, can I sleep now?” Tim halts in the middle of his sentence, coming to the conclusion that he probably shouldn’t read too much into anything she’s said, because she’s not in the right state of mind. He peers over to her glass of water, satisfied that she’s drank enough and nods softly, helping her into her room. The question of how to get her into more comfortable clothes becomes intelligible, he can’t get her dressed himself so the only option is to turn around whilst she dresses herself and hope that she doesn’t tumble and injure herself.
As if Lucy had read his thoughts, she tilts her head up at Tim and states that she’s too tired to get changed, and is just going to sleep in the clothes she already has on. Tim nods and follows her to the bed, laying her down gently and putting her in the recovery position. His head may be swirling, but nothing could ever stop him from making sure she’s safe. As she gets comfortable, he brings the remaining water and some Advil and tells her to take two so that her hangover isn’t too bad in the morning. Lucy’s heart warms at the sight of him taking care of her; this is what it’s supposed to feel like, she thinks to herself. She swallows the Advil down and puts herself back into the position that Tim had previously put her in.
With a tired yawn and sniffle, she cracks an eye open to gain Tim’s attention and sends him an adoring smile. “Thank you again, for bringing me home, and for taking care of me”
“No problem Lucy, I’m here whenever you need me” the sincerity in his voice sets a calm over the room, and Lucy nuzzles her head into her pillow, nose scrunching when the material tickles her. “I’ll see you at work” he places a friendly hand upon her shoulder, but as he looks at her, cuddled up in bed, hair falling into the pillows, he can’t help but to brush a strand behind her ear. He turns towards the door and tiptoes gently so he doesn’t wake her up; then he remembers ‘I know the game was on tonight’- he never did find out how she knew, so he took a chance, whispering out the question once again, expecting no response from the half asleep woman in bed. “How did you know the game was on tonight ?” When he gets no reply after 5 seconds, he continues to walk out of the room, preparing himself to take his trip back home. But then it comes.
“Because…it’s you”
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mackeydoodledoo · 2 years ago
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Burning Sun: Chapter 5
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Pairing: Rosalie Hale x (Fem!)Reader
Summary: You've seen her in the school halls, the cafeteria, anywhere really. You, for the longest time, hoped... Wanted to be noticed by Rosalie Hale. However, you give up when you realize it was getting you nowhere... Throughout high school and just some time after the high school years, Rosalie’s true feelings come to fruition.
Chapter Warnings: Angsty Ending 
Chapter Theme: Helena - My Chemical Romance
Key: Italics = Thought, +*+ = Time Skip, Bold/Italic = Flashback, Bold/Indent = Text Messaging
A/n: None
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The final day of high school...
The final bell couldn’t come soon enough.
“God I’m itching to get out of here,” You sigh
Your final class was band class; where your other friends were as well.
Rather than playing music like usual, the entire class began cleaning everything in the band room while music simply played in the background. However, you and your small group of friends were hanging around in a small practice room. The last thing you all wanted was to be surrounded by cheering underclassmen.
“Hey, so Rosalie told us-”
“Whatever she has planned, good for her,” You say, “I’m not interested in anything that she has to offer me.”
“Still on her for ghosting you?” They ask
“Why wouldn’t I be?” You ask, “I don’t understand why you lot are still trying to get her and I to make up. She’s clearly made her choice to want nothing to do with me.”
“Oh, if you were in any of our shoes you’d see it differently,” They tell you
“What do you mean?” You ask
“Dude, you're so upset at what she did, you’re do caught up in that, that you don’t see how she was looking at you,” They explain, “Hoping you’d just go up to her.”
“I try to,” You explain, “But, every time when I felt that I was close to her, she shuts me out and ignores me for a long time. Then reaches out to me again, acting as if it never happened. Besides, she’s been homeschooled... Apparently all year so... No way she’d try to look at me, begging me to be at her beck and call.”
+*+
The Final bell..
You lot of seniors burst through the student lot doors, trying to all fit through the decently sized rectangular doorframe with ease. However, you nimbly weave through the seniors. However, upon reaching the outside world to head to your car, you spot a red... Familiar one... With a familiar blonde leaning against the driver’s door.
“OMG It’s Rosalie!!” Your friend almost pounces upon your shoulder, “Go after her!” 
You push them off of you and begin making your way towards your car to simply go home before your night out with said friends. 
*Rosalie’s POV* You stand there... Watching Y/n make her way to her car, yet not breaking eye contact with you. Only having it break when she disappears into the interior of her car. You hop into 
Don’t follow me.
You toss you're phone into the passenger seat and lean over to throw your head into your hands.
If only I wasn’t so fed up with the smell of her blood...
“Carlisle, I can’t attend my final year of high school,” You walk up to him
“And why is that Rosalie?” He asks, looking away from his laptop
“I...I just can’t,” You explain 
“It’s because of Y/n Y/l/n,” Edward answers for you, clearly reading your mind
“Can you keep yourself from poking inside my head Edward?” You sigh in annoyance
“Rosalie, we don’t want the administrative system just let you drop out of high school,” He explains,
“Well, say I'm getting homeschooled then,” You say, “Anything that’ll keep me away from Y/n...”
Oh how wrong you were to make that decision. 
Now here you were... Trying to get Y/n’s attention again... Despite that Y/n told you specifically not to follow her... 
I’d follow you to the end of the earth...
+*+
*Y/n’s POV*
You take your key out of the ignition and step out of the car, grabbing your backpack out of the passenger seat and lock the car, approaching your awaiting parents as they smile from the porch.
“She’s finally done with high school!” Your mother smiles
“She’s off to college!” Your dad smiles in
“Not for another few several weeks,” You chuckle, “Then I’ll be off.”
For the next few hours, your parents help you begin packing most of your clothing and some essentials. 
“Honey, are you sure you don’t want us continuing to help pack your things?” Your mother asks from your room
“I’m sure mom,” You reply from the bathroom, “I’m pretty sure that we’ve gotten everything that's necessary and I have enough clothes to go through until I leave.
Yo, you on your way Y/n?
Yeah, heading out right now.
Before putting your phone into your pocket, you see a text from Rosalie... Again...
Are you busy this evening?
As a matter of fact, yes, I am busy.
What are you doing?
None of your business Rosalie. Don’t follow me.
You put your phone into your back pocket, grab your keys off of the table and head out the door.
+*+
 You watch as your friend launches herself out of the front door of her house and into the passenger seat of your car.
“You’re all jittery,” You chuckle, beginning to make your way too the movie theatre
“Guess who asked me to prom?” She asks
“Who?” You ask
“James Konvegh,” She says
“Wasn’t that guy that one from freshman year that he rocked you in the jaw?” You ask
“Turns out he did end up feeling bad about it and saw how cool the marching band was,” She explains, “Ends up asking me to prom as a make-up date.”
“He better be careful then,” You sigh, one hand settling on the gear shift while the other remains on the wheel, “He hurts you again I’m kicking the shit out of him. A lot more than just a simply kick to the groin this time.”
“Well, says the one who’s leaving right before prom,” She says, “So, our two other friends will if he does.”
“Fair point,” You say
“You already get to packing yet?” She asks
“Parents and I already got majority of the big essentials,” You answer
“Where’ll you be staying?” She asks, “Will you be in the dorms like every other college freshman?”
“Actually, I have enough to lease a one-bedroom apartment near campus,” You smirk, “10 minute drive to and from.”
“What about work?” She asks, “Western Washington is 4 hours from home.”
“Campus Undergrad Library,” You immediately answer, “Quiet and I can do my school work as I work.”
“Wow Y/n, adulting already,” Your friend sighs, leaning into the headrest of the carseat. I’m simply still going to be working here in Forks until Have enough money for a camera.”
Your best friend was one of the best photographers in the school. She was head of the Yearbook committee since sophomore year. People were even asking her to do their senior photos. Hell, she evened her own senior photos to save her family money.
+*+
You meet up with your rag-tag group of friends and made endless cheers about ending high school.
“What’s the first thing you’re going too do?” A friend asks someone
“Sleep!” They answer
“That’s valid, I lost so much sleep over band and indoor band!” You laugh
“Well, stop doing indoor and maybe you won’t be as tired!” Another friend suggests
“In your dreams,” You laugh
You were about to walk into the movie theatre with your group of friends until you turn to see Rosalie...
"Hey guys... I'm going to catch up with you in a minute..." You tell them, "I'll buy my own drink."
You could see Rosalie coming closer as you were.
"Why did you come?” You ask, pissed off, “How the hell did you find out where I was going anyway?”
“That isn’t important,” Rosalie says
*Rosalie’s POV* “Alice,” You walk up to her, “Where is Y/n going tonight?” 
“Why do you need to know where she’s going all of a sudden Rosalie?” She asks
“Because I need to talk to her about... Us,” You say, “I’ve been a big idiot all year and I feel guilty for ignoring Y/n and I need to find out where she’s heading...”
“The movies, with her friends, where else?” Alice answers you
You immediately beeline it to the door, grabbing a light cardigan on the way out.
*Y/n’s POV* “Okay if it isn’t so important then... Why the hell are you her?” You ask, “Answer me that.”
“I need to talk to you,” She says
“Of all times?” You ask, “The one time I can get with my friends before I-”
You stop...
“Before you what Y/n?” She asks
“It’s none of your business,” You say
“It is my business since you were ab out to bring it up,” Rosalie continues to argue
You sigh in frustration as you run your fingers into your hair.
“I got accepted into Western Washington Uni, and I’ve decided to take the opportunity to attend classes for the summer to give myself a head start to get my 
"That isn't your choice to make for me Rosalie!" You snap
Her stern, pursed lips soften and she takes a slight step back. For the first time... You finally snapped at Rosalie...
“You know if you really hated our kiss and ‘us’ being an item at school, you should have just left it at that,” You continue, “It would just simply save both of us the hurt.... Heartbreak for me... Won't matter for much longer anyway... Since I’m heading off to college right after graduation.”
“What?” Rosalie looks up at you, “You’re leaving?”
“Yeah, because I’m going to get a degree and get a life,” You say, “I don’t care if you’d be apart of it. Since you clearly made your choice after Junior Formal... I’m done... I’m done, Rosalie.”
Rosalie narrows her eyes...
“I’m done being given mixed signals Rosalie,” You further clarify, “I’m done waiting for you to feel like you’re ready to be in a relationship and then when I feel like I could have a chance, or I let you in even further, you back out last minute.”
“I never said that I wasn’t-”
“Yeah, you never did,” You state the obvious, “Because you never wanted to make me feel bad about pining for you. You just simply need me along the path until you numerously pushed me off of the edge.”
“But you kept coming back when I did,” Rosalie attempts to counter-argue
“That was because I was being nice,” You sigh, “Not only that but I also believed you were slowly opening back up to me again. Just for my hopes to be smashed.”
“I’m sorry Y/n,” Rosalie apologizes, “I know I’ve been-”
“I don’t want to hear it Rosalie Hale,” You say
Rosalie lightly gasps... You never, ever referred to her by her first and last name. 
“Why don't you just do us both a favor and leave?” You ask, “That’s what you do best.”
You turn your back to her, beginning to walk back into the theater ti catch up to your waiting friends.
“I don’t know what happened in your last relationship Rosalie Hale, but,” You begin, your angered tone dropping, “You probably sure did a hell of a number on that person...”
*Rosalie’s POV* Your eyes widen as you drop to your knees. The fact Y/n brought up your previous relationship, despite not knowing its full contents, it hurt... 
You weren't the one that hurt your last significant other...
It was the other way around...
A violent type of hurt...
Chapter 6
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matan4il · 2 years ago
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It's always sad to think about that Eddie also hasn't ever felt real love, whether be it from his parents or his partner. It was clear that his parents and Shannon made him feel like he wasn't good enough. When she came back to LA, he was good enough for a hook-up, but then she presented him with a divorce. I don't think he would have married her if his parents hadn't forced him because she was pregnant. He could never do things his own way. Would love to hear your thoughts on that.
Hi Nonnie! Thank you so much for this ask.
TBH, Shannon is someone who I’m very ambivalent about. I don’t think she was a bad person. See, in Texas I can understand why she left. I may not agree with her leaving or how she did it, the fact that she didn’t even tell Eddie she‘s thinking about it, or the way she cut off Chris when she left his dad, but I can understand why she was unhappy and feeling suffocated. I can understand making bad choices when life keeps throwing difficulties at you for so long, you don’t necessarily think straight anymore. I also assume she didn’t mean to leave Eddie himself. It seemed more like she wanted to leave the package that surrounded being married to him.
So years later, she’s in LA and Eddie contacts her. He’s moved there and all of a sudden, being with him doesn’t necessarily come with that entire package Shannon couldn’t deal with before. I don’t believe she had any concrete plan in mind when she came to meet him in 207, but that once she saw him, she couldn’t just walk out again. He’s furious with her for abandoning them, but by the end of that ep, he comes to understand her and they kiss. Is she forgiven? No. Her betrayal was too great and Eddie doesn’t feel reassured yet that she won’t walk out on them again. So he keeps her from seeing Chris. What gets to me is that in 210, Shannon indicates her and Eddie had been sleeping together for almost two months before she puts her foot down and insists on seeing her son. I have to admit, that one always rubbed me the wrong way. If she had been that loving and repentant mother, I don’t think she could have taken being so close to Chris without seeing him for that long. Especially not after she previously claimed to be focused on being reunited with her son.
Then Eddie agrees to reunite their family by the end of that Xmas ep, and she has both him and Chris, but no commitment. She seems to be pushing in that direction in 217, asking Eddie what they are, and telling him she might be pregnant again. Just like you said, he implies that they first married not because he wanted to, but because of her pregnancy. Then, at the restaurant, Eddie takes the final leap with her, after he let her back in on every other level, and is ready to re-commit. But Shannon doesn’t want to. She got everything back, but just as Eddie feared, she now wants to leave them again. I think in all that time she took away from them, she never really figured out what she wanted, which is why she’s so all over the place. She wants her son, but she’s okay just sleeping with her dad. She wants Eddie, but she breaks up with him the second he’s truly ready for her. She begs to be forgiven for having left, but then she does the same thing again. I think she was so thoroughly confused, she just couldn’t make coherent decisions.
Here’s the thing. That’s not a reflection on Eddie and how lovable he is, but when he was already carrying the baggage of how little he felt accepted and loved by his parents, especially his dad, this is exactly how he interpreted Shannon’s rejection. And it breaks my heart. The fact that she didn’t just leave, she died, means he could never hope to one day work things out with her, get to a place of being friendly exes and co-parents. Some things in life are final and can’t be fixed. That’s why I’m extra happy that he and Ramon are working things out and building a better r/s. That’s Eddie’s core trauma, and with it healing, that can allow him to revisit other ones and find better, kinder interpretations for them as well.
And of course, he has Buck now. Buck’s the guy who fights for Eddie, to be by his side, to help him, to make things better for him. Eddie has never had that before, and it’s so full of love and grace, you can tell that affects everything. IDK how Eddie would have handled the aftermath of the shooting if Buck weren’t there. I’m convinced that Eddie can get along better with Ramon thanks in part to the support he’s had from Buck. I don’t think there are any love stories that get me more emotional than the ones where two people who’ve been deeply wronged help heal each other. And that’s what we have in Buddie.
Hope I managed to answer satisfactorily, and here’s my ask tag! xoxox
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caroline18mars · 8 months ago
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A Man On Fire - Chapter 84
All colour drained from her face and she sat there looking all lost, “Harp? Do you want to talk to him..” Jared’s voice barely registered in her head, my own father, the root of all evil in my life wants to see me? She nervously bit her paint stained nail. “She’ll call you back, Arno..ok talk to you later” Jared disconnected the call and looked at the trembling, nailbiting other half of his heart. “Babe..” his hand reached over the table “calm down, he’s awake and doing a lot better..” his long fingers caressed her cheek to get her attention, her eyes predicted a hurricane connecting with his. “I can’t do it, Jay..I can’t..it’s not..why? should I?..I don’t know..” she puffed out the words, Jared pushed a strand of her long hair behind her ear “I’m not the one who can or should decided that for you..I’m just as torn about this as you are” he sighed. “Oh great, pffff” she nervously rolled her eyes, “I just can’t make that decision for you, you’re the only one who can truly feel and know all the abuse and grief that man has given you, nobody else..does he even deserve a visit from you? My first reaction would be, hell no, he sure doesn’t deserve you and his talk seemed very cheap over the years, but on the other hand what if he has seen the light and the conversation will be beneficial for you and might chase away some of those ghosts that you dragged along with you all this time?..I really can’t make that decision for you, Coco”. She shuffled back and forth on her chair, he had never seen her so agitated, so restless, all this time the decision had been made for her, her father had made the decision to keep her far away, cutting her off financially and emotionally, depriving her of money, depriving her of her title linked to her last name. And now he pulled the strings a little tighter in the other direction, there was so much doubt, that man either lived up to his title as a diplomat or he was pure evil, one way or the other it was working what he was trying to do.
‘No, you’re right, you can’t possibly make that decision for me..I’m gonna ignore him, enough is enough, can we just go..I need a bit of fresh air” she sighed yet again, already pushing back her chair.
The drive back home was a silent one, her own silence even continued well into the late evening, all day she had been sulking around the house, only to hide in the garden watching the sunset, but her phone wasn’t, this had been the tenth call on her phone that he had let go to voicemail. He grabbed her phone and walked out into the garden where her untouched plate of food of this afternoon was still standing next to her. “Please call your brother, he’s been blowing up your phone all day” he handed her the phone but she looked at it like it was an alien “your phone, you know, that device where you can communicate with people from a distance”. She rolled her eyes “you don’t have to be all sarcastic about it, ” and pouting she took the phone from him, twirling it round and round between two fingers, “I’m not, babe, really I do understand how tough this decision is for you” he ruffled his fingers through her hair and sat down on the sunbed with her “but you’re gonna have to whether you want to or not”.
Harper let her head fall back against the cushion “what about you? What have you been up to all day?” she needed to talk about something else for a change, “the tour, we’re kicking off the last leg in Sydney, Australie soon” he softly said, somehow it hit her hard, in all this turmoil of indecisiveness she felt like she was gonna need him to be with her. Don’t be so goddamn selfish Coco, you brought this all to yourself, you’re not 10 anymore, you’re a grown up who dares to talk to a couple of parents right? Right! “I’ve been so self-absorbed lately that I completely forgot about that, when are you leaving?”, her question struck him, ‘when are YOU leaving?’ not ‘when are WE leaving’? she must have had decided then. “In a couple of days” he bit his lip, what? A few days? He would be gone again in a few days? Stop being so selfish! “oh ok..” she really tried to sound not disappointed “I’ll go call Arno, and you mister, need to go pack your bags, is it winter or summer now over there? Summer, right? Well, make sure to pack your shorts and flipflops then, ok, I’ll go call him”.
By the time she got back inside, the whole house was dark, she quickly looked at the time, it was almost 1AM, with a heavy heart and equally heavy legs she walked up the stairs, here goes nothing..
Warm breath, and her luscious warm body sliding up to his back woke him from his restless slumber, “hey” he rolled over to push a kiss on her lips “so I guess you decided then” he found himself bracing a little. “Yep..I’m going to probably regret this, but I’m going back there and see what he has to say, I don’t want to live with this huge cloud over my head any longer” she sighed, even in the dark he could see her overtaken by emotion, he brushed his lips against the salty tear that trickled down her cheek “I believe it’s the smartest decision, when do you fly over there?” his stomach was in knots, but he had to respect her decision. “Tomorrow..please come with me?” she whispered in his ear while tightening her grip on him, please say yes, please, please, please, I don’t want to go over there on my own, but with the nervous biting of his lip she already had her answer “we’re leaving the day after tomorrow, babe..I’ve got a lot to do still” he hated his touringschedule, he hated himself, he could clearly see the disappointment on her beautiful features.
“I know..no it’s alright, I understand..” she forced a smile and put her head in that wonderful nook of his shoulder, how long would it be until they would see each other again, none of them knew and it didn’t make things easier, “just promise you’ll fly to Australia as soon as you can?! I really want to sign up for the long run with you..” Jared didn’t want to think about being apart again, they had been for too many times and for far too long. “Promise me, Harper..” he quickly said as he didn’t get an immediate reply, “I promise, of course, as soon as we’re done there, I’ll come and see you” she didn’t know when or what but she wanted to make him that promise because she needed a goal to keep her going during the much dreaded upcoming talks. “That’s all I needed to know” he pushed himself up on an elbow and leaned in for a scorching kiss that started hours of passionate lovemaking all through the night.
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whentherewerebicycles · 1 year ago
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my beloved pups :) period started overnight and I woke up so sad. but I think the one good thing from this bummer of a weekend is that I feel like I’ve reached some clarity about next steps. I want to hold firm to the original boundary I set before starting this process: no IVF, at least in the US. truly zero judgment of anyone else’s choices but having a biological child is not so important to me that I want to mortgage my own future (and my kids’ futures) to it financially. and I’m genuinely interested in and open to fostering to adopt even though I have some nervousness around the idea.
so here’s my plan, because you know I can’t function without a plan:
depending on what my dr says tomorrow, I’ll pursue additional testing if it’s not crazy expensive. if there’s a physical reason IUI can’t work for me I would like to know so I can feel confident I’ve fully tried that option.
assuming there isn’t a physical reason and I just haven’t gotten lucky yet… I have gone through a lot research to try to understand the clinical guidance. I wanted to understand if the “3 failed IUIs = IVF is your only option” advice is based in good science or if it’s one of those things that people repeat to each other because they’ve heard it a lot. (I also wanted to know if it’s one of those things where our culture’s tendency to pathologize and hypermedicalize pushes people towards the invasive high-tech expensive options sooner than necessary). I am not 100% confident in my ability to interpret scientific data so you know, grain of salt but: it does seem like a lot of the studies that recommend the 3 cycle limit are single-clinic studies with small sample sizes. I found a more recent and much larger study that concluded that people who do 6-9 cycles still achieve similar rates of pregnancy as people who do 3-4. so it seems like the drop-off maybe isn’t as precipitous as the internet would have you believe. it’s hard to imagine doing 9 cycles (financially and emotionally) but I think I could do up to six.
I signed up this morning for the foster care licensing course online (in my state you have to be licensed both to foster and to adopt from foster care). I have to complete eight 3-hour sessions plus additional in-person stuff at the end. I want to set a goal of completing one session per week—maybe an hour a night spread over a few nights. I also want to use this process to engage in sustained reflection and writing about my feelings/fears around pursuing parenting by another route. it seems totally normal and expected that I’d have a lot of head/heart-clearing to do before I’m ready to tackle a big life-changing commitment. so I want to begin that work now. I would like to complete the online training by July 15 (and I of course have my own syllabus of secondary readings I want to do too lol). I’ve heard the home study process you have to complete after training can take anywhere from 3-9 months, so starting now will get me moving in that direction but won’t obligate me to make any big decisions for a while yet.
IVF abroad is still a possibility—I budgeted it out for one of the Greece clinics and I think I could do it for $8-9k which includes all travel and lodging costs (not bad if I also get a fun two-week vacation out of it!). but I couldn’t afford to do that financially or PTO-wise until November/December, so I think it makes sense to move forward on other fronts for now and keep that as a back-burner idea I can return to in a couple months.
and lastly: here’s a final emotional thing I want to register. as I expected it might, this process has been stirring up a lot of old buried gender shame, which isn’t specifically about my body but has more to do with that one quote people reblog on tumblr that goes something like I have always been ashamed of being witnessed in the act of wanting what I can’t have. my gender shame has always had so little to do with my gendered body and so much to do with the feeling that people are watching me want to embody something I can’t embody in a way that convinces anyone. I spent so much of my life feeling shut out of girlhood, and even though most of the time I couldn’t decide if I even wanted to be let into girlhood (my feelings are still decidedly mixed!), that feeling of being shut out still kinda fucks you up inside, you know? I feel like I’ve made a lot of peace with that old pain and a lot of progress towards expanding my conception of what being a woman means (as emi koyama puts it in the transfeminist manifesto: there are as many ways of being a woman as there are women). but it makes sense that when you encounter new triggers for old pain it would take a while to kinda recalibrate and find your equilibrium again. right now I want to have a baby—ie I want to do this human thing that our culture associates (strongly, insistently, at times punitively) with “successful” womanhood. and I am so far failing repeatedly to have a baby! I am failing even with the help of medical interventions that are supposed to ramp up my ~insufficiently feminine~ body’s ability to do this thing that “women’s bodies” are supposed to be able to do without help. like, one million scare quotes around ALL of this—this isn’t what I believe in my head but it is the deeply ingrained cultural script that’s been drilled into my heart! so I think a lot of the heaviness I’m feeling around this whole thing is just like, the old pain, the old shame, the old buried humiliation of being witnessed in the act of wanting something I can’t have. and I may need to make a bit more space for myself to do some gentle and compassionate excavating of those ugly, shameful feelings so I can look at them in the light and say: yes, that’s a thought, but it isn’t mine. it never was. it came from somewhere else, a tiny little fragment of cultural shrapnel embedded in my heart. I may never be able to remove it completely but I don’t have to confuse it for part of me and I have the tools now to keep its slow poison from leaching into my blood. I am whole as I am. I am loved as I am; I love myself as I am. I can acknowledge the old bad feelings with compassion, but I don’t ever have to ever go back to that time in my life when I treated shame as the only or truest truth.
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findingmypeace · 1 year ago
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I honestly don’t understand why your treatment team keeps pushing treatment. You’ve been so many times and it’s never actually worked. It’s silly to keep going back at this point, you need to watch this for yourself outpatient. No one can do it for you. You can get medical management and follow a meal plan and get therapy outpatient, but I really just don’t understand why you would go back to treatment again if you’ve been so many times, and you say that it has always harmed you (at least recently). You’re an adult, you have the autonomy to make whatever decision you wanna make, and your therapist can’t force you to do anything.
This was sent to me on April 21st before my intake with the treatment center that said they wanted me to go to their inpatient unit. I get that at the time I was writing a lot about not wanting to go. And honestly, I still don’t want to go. Like at all. Part of the appeal of inpatient vs residential is that inpatient is shorter. I can get back to work faster. I don’t have to be in treatment as long.
Yes, technically my therapist can’t force me to do anything. I am an adult. I have my own free will. And yet I was told that if I don’t at least do residential it would be unethical for them (dietitian and therapist) to continue seeing me. I’d be without a treatment team again. No therapist. No dietitian. And now my psychiatrist won’t even let me do ECT until after my health is better. But fuck it, treatment is a waste of time. I just need to get my shit together.
I had a lot more written now but the bottom line is (I can’t believe I’m saying this-I really can’t contain the anger anymore) you’re feeding directly into both my trauma and denial. You’re also directly feeding into WHY I refused to go back to treatment for so long. I’ve heard this trope (in addition to many, many other invalidating statements) hundreds of times over my life. My brother just said it to me last week with the addition of a sarcastic remark when I finished telling him my medical symptoms. I guess I’m just being a drama queen.
I didn’t want to go in the first place. And this is part it.
I hear this in my head, in my parents voice, constantly.
I don’t even know what to say anymore.
I have another ask like this saved in my drafts. I never finished my response so it’s just been sitting in my drafts. I’m just going to past it as it.
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ratttoro · 8 days ago
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heres a more vent-y post about ageism cuz y’all are pissing me tf off. (side note, maybe read the whole post before deciding that i just hate teenagers and want them all to suffer).
teenagers seriously need to stop acting as if they are oppressed. you aren’t. you are disrespected/somewhat disregarded in society which is something i’ve been saying but to take it up a notch and compare it to oppression is exactly why there’s so many people who are preaching that teens shouldn’t be online/aren’t mature enough to make their own decisions.
there are laws out there to protect you because we’ve all been there, we all know what its like, we all want you to succeed. youth is one of the only things every human being on this earth experiences, and wishes they could go back and change. there are evil ass motherfuckers out there who want to hurt you, who want to take advantage of you and your naïveté, who want you to believe that you’re more mature than your parents/teachers tell you and that they’re all just holding you back, but good news: there are also people out there that want every single one of those motherfuckers to rot in a jail cell and tons of people who dedicate their entire lives to doing so. thats oppression to you? because you can’t vote at 15 fucking years old? because the teachers don’t want you vaping in the bathroom? get a fucking grip oh my god. you are more privileged as a teenager than you’ll ever be in your entire life.
if you seriously cannot even FATHOM why someone might not want a teenager in their space, to interact with their account, or to have the liberty of making every single decision for themselves, ya aren’t as mature as yer thinking ya are, bud.
even as a teen, it was never hard for me to just respect the fact that some spaces weren’t made for me, and there were valid reasons as to why. (i was a teen like two years ago and technically still am so dont start with that “well things are different now!” bullshit.)
teens aren’t allowed in adult spaces because adults are unpredictable, and no matter how many times you wanna shout that teens are capable of being mature and responsible, most teens are naïve as fuck because most of y’all have 0 life skills yet. once again, if you did have life skills you would probably understand why there are so many things in place to FUCKING PROTECT YOU GUYS.
it’s so frustrating that teenagers are trying to push away everything thats keeping them safe because “erm actually teenagers are a lot smarter than you think!” just because you read Frankenstein does not mean you’re immune to grooming and sex trafficking.
i agree that teens deserve to be respected and their opinions deserve to be heard, but no, sorry, y’all definitely should not be in adult spaces (rather the spaces dangerous or not, some people just don’t want minors around and this type of shit makes me completely understand why).
stop preaching literal groomer language at teenagers AS A TEENAGER. what the fuck! you’re destroying yourselves and forcing everyone else to watch. i’ve seen multiple cases of rape, grooming, abuse, etc, that wouldn’t have gotten recognized as such had the victim not been a minor. stop actively trying to make things worse for yourself. once you grow up, there will be no more people fighting for you. there will be no protection. there will be no more using your age as an excuse. like i said earlier, get a fucking grip.
and ik that teens have been saying the same bullshit reworded for centuries, but it gets more concerning when people are essentially saying “teenager? psssh they’re practically an adult!” and it blows my mind that people cant see why.
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bewitchingbooktours · 1 year ago
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Heart of the Storm
Demon Storm
Book Four
Valerie Storm
Genre: YA Fantasy
Publisher: Shadow Spark Publishing
Date of Publication: 9/13/23
ISBN: ISBN: 978-1-956883-14-5
ASIN: B0CFHBLMGJ
Number of pages:410
Word Count:101219
Cover Artist: @Ginkahederling
Tagline:
A fresh start. An old home, new again.  And a new evil to match.
Crimson eyes and dark wings. Together, they'll be terrible. Can she break free?
Their light is broken. When a new darkness rises, will they overcome it?
Book Description:
More than night terrors keep Kari awake at night. Ari languishes beside her, broken by the horrors Raven bestowed upon him.
She hopes he heals, and soon.
When a familiar presence and an unexplainable human with magic happen upon their doorstep, Kari and Ari make a decision: leave Raziac Village in search of answers and a new home.
But the heart eater waits for them.
Amazon
Excerpt:
Kari pushed away her steak, half-eaten. “Can this place be real?”
            Rathik looked up from his turkey. “Sometimes I can’t believe it myself, and I headed the revolution.”
Ari leaned over his plate, eyes widening. “You did? How?”
“From within the town itself. I was on the guard. I hid myself, too.” Rathik looked at Kari. “My commanding officer believed I had a skin disease.”
A sudden memory pricked her attention. The day she’d run into a guard in Snow Shade—after stealing the magic book for Kiki—she’d glimpsed scales on that man’s face and forgotten all about it.
Guine snorted. “Nice.”
            Rathik inclined his head. “My position enabled me to sneak demons in. I was just trying to help sickly ones at first. Eventually my name—different than the one I used as a guard—became infamous.” He laughed, shaking his head, and took a sip of ale.
            “I…I remember your name. Rathik.” Kari wracked her brain, remembering the first bolt of lightning she had called down; it had been glorious, though it also represented the first time she had felt the burning fire of the Catalyst. She’d been attacked by a demon yelling about a Rathik.
            Rathik grimaced. “I became a rallying point for many demons in the north, and it wasn’t long until the Lord Isaac was looking for me.”
            Kari, nodded, recalling that, too.
“Lord Isaac became frantic, especially when a man and his wife were found dead in their homes. He ordered searches, and it wasn’t long before my friends were found out. One died, trying to protect the others.”
Kari’s throat tightened. Ari shifted so she could grab his arm. Guine glanced at them.
“It was me,” she muttered in a hoarse whisper.
“What?” Rathik asked.
“It was my fault your friend died. I…I was the one who killed those two humans.”
She’d had no choice, she’d told herself, yet that hadn’t been true. How many times had Kiki tried to convince her they could run away without leaving any bodies behind? And Kari had refused, sure that killing Anne and Joseph was the only true way to honor her parents.
If she’d listened, Kiki may have lived, and Rathik’s friend wouldn’t have died.
Rathik leaned over the table. “No. Trust me, Kari. It was only a matter of time before Lord Isaac snapped. Even Dorn, from Isaac’s council, said he was well on his way to madness without anyone’s help.”
“He’s right,” Ari said, rubbing her. “Even we’d heard some stories in Raziac. You aren’t to blame for his actions.”
Kari caught Guine’s eye, his expression indiscernible, then frowned at her plate.
            Rathik nodded. “His own people saw it. Some of them helped us, guiding our peaceful speeches to fellow humans, and reconciling began. Now we have this.”
            He waved his hand, gesturing at the room.
            “Even though I’d heard of the revolution, I can hardly believe my eyes,” Ari said. “This place is unimaginable.”
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   About the Author:
Valerie Storm was raised in Tucson, Arizona. Growing up, she fell in love with everything fantasy. When she wasn’t playing video games, she was writing. By age ten, she began to write her own stories as a way to escape reality. When these stories became a full-length series, she considered the path to sharing with other children & children at heart looking for a place to call home.
Blog https://rantsofawriter.home.blog/ 
Twitter https://twitter.com/valerie_storm 
Tumblr https://www.tumblr.com/valeriestorm 
Pinterest https://www.pinterest.com/valeriestorm3135/_saved/ 
Instagram https://www.instagram.com/valeriestorm_author/ 
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100082414584775 
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oraclekleo · 1 year ago
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Roy (TFboys) Relationship Role Tarot Reading
Disclaimer:
All celebrity readings have purely entertainment nature
I don’t know any of the celebrities personally
Don’t base life decisions purely on tarot readings
I can never guarantee any of what’s said in the reading
Feedback: Feedback is very important for content creators and for me it’s even more important. Please, let me know whether the tarot readings resonate. If there’s anything you dislike or find off about my readings (like wording, topics, focus), just tell me. I don’t want you to write 1000-word feedback, very simple comments will do for me to stay motivated. I don’t know why I have to keep repeating this but this is something I do for you, guys, and when I don’t feel motivated to do tarot readings, I have many other things to do. The more motivation I get, the more readings you will get to read. The logic is very simple but it’s two sided.
Reading Info:
Rating: 18+
Reading Type: Single - Couple
Requested: Yes - No
Requester: /
Deck(s): Mermaid Tarot
Spread: Relationship Role
Questions:
Friend
Boyfriend
Lover
Husband
One-Night-Stand
Celebrity Info:
Full Name: Roy Wang / Wang Yuan
Stage Name: Roy
Group: TFboys
DOB: 08.11.2000
Blood Type: N/A
MBTI: N/A
Sun Sign: Scorpio
Chinese Sign: Metal Dragon
Life Path Number: 3
Masterpost: UNDER CONSTRUCTION
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Roy (TFboys)
Full Name: Roy Wang / Wang Yuan Stage Name: Roy Group: TFboys DOB: 08.11.2000 Blood Type: N/A MBTI: N/A Sun Sign: Scorpio Chinese Sign: Metal Dragon Life Path Number: 3
Spread / Question: Relationship Role Deck(s): Mermaid Tarot
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Friend - 7 of Swords, 10 of Cups
Roy truly values and cherishes his friends dearly. He might not have that many of them, he’s likely to build a small circle of people he can rely on in everyday life. He likes to include his friends in his decision making processes, he asks for their advice and opinions to form his own vision of reality. Roy doesn’t let his friends manipulate him but he likes to listen to their point of views. Sometimes he lets them influence him when he feels it’s a good thing, but when their opinions don’t align with his own life credo, he doesn’t follow them. He takes what resonates with him and leaves the rest for others.
Boyfriend - Queen of Wands, IX The Hermit
While the Queen here is a party animal, the Hermit suggests an introverted person. Nobody is just one thing or another, we all combine multiple aspects within us and the same applies to Roy. He might give an outgoing vibe to people and to a certain degree he truly loves to be around his sweetheart. However, dating someone doesn’t mean to be glued to that person and Roy knows it. His special person might often accept that Roy needs some private alone time for himself when he doesn’t want to be disturbed, simply to sort his thoughts and relax, to listen to his own thoughts rather than the other people’s chatter. His sweetheart needs to respect it.
Lover - 6 of Cups, 5 of Pentacles
There’s a certain innocence and even an aspect of childishness in Roy’s cards for the lover role. I can see there might be some unresolved issues from his childhood, still affecting him today. Maybe his parents’ relationship was far from perfect and Roy developed intimacy issues and isn't ready to accept the blessing of physical love to the full extent just yet. The person on 5 of Pentacles card is clearly presented with abundance but they can’t see it because they are in a state where they look inside of their soul.
Husband - VII The Chariot, 7 of Wands
I can see a husband role might be a challenging one for Roy. He might even feel cornered if he’s somewhat pushed towards marriage. He sees it as something that requires a high amount of responsibility and training. He feels like he needs to practise dating still and he’s not ready to be the husband any partner would need.
One-Night-Stand - Knight of Pentacles, 4 of Swords
Right… That’s a pretty clear no from Roy when it comes to random love affairs. It’s no surprise when he’s not really comfortable with the sexual aspect of a relationship. Knight of Pentacles is the slowest moving knight in the deck and to highlight the reluctance of Roy to engage in one night stands, we have someone literally frozen in an icy coffin.
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I would like to say that I don't follow TFboys at all, I don't know the group. If you, guys, do, let me, please, please, know whether I got anywhere near accurate with this reading. I'm expecting at least one feedback to appear in my inbox, as this was a requested reading. 😊
Thank you for reading!
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briamichellewrites · 2 years ago
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28
Brie’s album, Wild At Heart was finally released. She flew to Nashville to promote it on CMT. Mike didn’t want her to go by herself because he didn’t want anything to happen to her or the babies. She assured him that she could fly up to twenty-eight weeks pregnant. He made her text him when she landed safely, so he didn’t worry. She promised to do that. Her obstetrician gave her instructions on how to fly while pregnant and how to keep herself and the babies comfortable.
Hey. I just landed in Nashville. – Brie
When she checked in at the hotel and got to her room, she texted him again with the update. Phoenix, Brad, and Chester could tell he was very anxious. He kept his phone beside him all day, just in case something happened. They would be anxious, too. But, they couldn’t keep her in bubble wrap just because she was pregnant. They had to let her go.
Brad invited him over to hang out with him, Elisa, and the kids. He accepted the invitation because it would help him keep distracted. It was also better than sitting at home. The kids were busy playing when Brad and Mike got to the house. Elisa had Evan, who was two years old on her hip. She looked like she was on her last leg with the kids. He laughed and asked what he needed to do. She handed him, Evan, while she went back to the kitchen to make dinner.
Daddy! They said hello to her. It was a busy house. Mike could see Brie waiting for him to get home, so he could help her with the kids. He would gladly take over, especially if she had been with them all day. Elisa had a job where she could work from home. That meant juggling her work with taking care of the kids and housework. They had a lot of respect for what their wives went through at home.
They were the reason why they could go out on tour and spend hours in the studio. Evan was telling her daddy everything she did that day. He was very interested in what she was telling him. Noa and Jonah were playing in the living room with their toys. They sat down and joined them.
“This is going to be your life in a couple of years”, Brad joked.
He laughed. “I can’t wait. I’m sure Brie is going to hand me the kids the second I walk in the door.”
“Oh, I bet.”
“Daddy, when the babies coming”, Noa asked.
“What babies? Brie and Mike’s babies?”
Yeah. They weren’t coming for a few months. They had to grow in her tummy first. Can they see them? Yeah, when they were born, they could ask about seeing them. What their names? They didn’t know yet because they hadn’t decided. Brad asked if Chester had any names he picked out. Yeah, he suggested Lila Rose and Lily Grace. They both thought they were beautiful names.
They were beautiful! Brie was thinking about including her French heritage, so she was going back and forth. Was she going to teach the twins French? Oh, yeah. They were likely going to be multilingual in English, French, and Japanese. She wanted names that were French but sounded English because she knew the frustration of people not being able to spell her name correctly. Over the years, she developed a sense of humor around her name but it took a lot of time for her to become okay with it.
“She said it had been misspelled B-r-e-e throughout her childhood, even though she went to a French immersion school. Then some people asked if it was short for Brianne, Brianna, or Aubrey.”
“I’ve gotten that. People ask if my name is short for Bradley. Nope, Bradford”, he said with a laugh.
Mike discussed coming out to the band for transparency. Phoenix and Brie encouraged him to do it but only if he felt comfortable. They would not push him because it was a decision he had to make. He wanted to do it because then, he wouldn’t feel like he was lying to them. They would support him, he knew that. He just had to gain the confidence to tell them he was gay.
Was he going to tell Brie’s parents? Yeah. He was going to do that when they flew in for her baby shower. Phoenix quietly asked Brie about asking Mike to be his boyfriend. She replied that she was all for it! They have already headed in that direction, anyway. He thanked her and told her he loved her. I love you too. With that, he asked him about it on their next date. He was so happy that he said yes immediately! Phoenix laughed because he was so adorable. He then kissed him.
Together, they would come out as a couple to the band. With Brie in Nashville, they decided to do it. During a break, Phoenix announced he and Mike were dating. What about Brie? They were in an open marriage and they had her blessing. Mike took that opportunity to come out as gay. Chester congratulated him, as did the rest of the band. He thanked them.
He wanted to be transparent with them because he didn’t want to hide who he was. It didn’t matter if he was gay or straight or bisexual. They loved him the same way, just like they did with Phoenix.
Yep, I know that they’re dating. Phoenix asked me privately if I was okay with him asking Mike to be his boyfriend. I told him to go for it! I told Mike I’m not leaving him because I love him too much. The only thing I asked for was an open marriage and he gave me that. We did set up rules and boundaries for both of us. Anyway, long story short. Yeah, I know and I’m one hundred percent okay with it. – Brie
Brad thanked her for clarifying that. He was a little suspicious about her supposedly agreeing to an open marriage. Then again, she was more open-minded than he was. She posted a picture of her with Keith Urban backstage at CMT studios where she had given an interview for her new album. Along with a performance of her new single, A Little Country, A Little Rock n Roll. It was about who she was as a person and her personality. He thought she was beautiful, so he gave her his phone number.
The band treated Mike and Phoenix the way they usually did, although they joked about them dating. It wasn’t malicious, just brotherly love. They were able to laugh about it and joke back. The band was happy that they could be happy with who they were.
Was he nervous about talking with Bruce and Patti? Yeah, he was. They would accept him. He was just nervous. Phoenix was going to be there to assist him and introduce himself. Baby shower. Brie was five months pregnant. Time was going by so quickly. They had to prepare the nursery, go over her birth plans, plan with his parents about helping out while he was on tour, and a million other things.
Before he knew it, he would be holding his twin daughters at the hospital. Was he nervous? Oh yeah. He was going to be a great father. That was what he kept telling himself.
Brie and Keith were texting back and forth. It started out friendly but turned to flirting. He was too old for her but she thought he was like fine wine. That made him laugh to himself. She knew what to say to a man to make him want her. What about her husband? He noticed the ring on her finger. We’re in an open marriage. She was leaving the next morning. The next time she was in Nashville, she invited him to her hotel room.
I’ll have to listen to your music until I see you again. – Brie
Every song is for you. Just listen to my voice and I’ll be there. – Keith
@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia @boricuacherry-blog
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