#many others. I’m not unique) swears by it

[boomerang109]

spent my birthday money on replacing my loops cause somehow i lost them and this world is too loud

[pedroshotwifey]

Should've Stayed Bored

Please understand that this is a crack fic based on this post by @bonezone44 and the comments made by @covetyou on said post ) Also tagging other commenters on that post: @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog snowflake-blog@bubble-pop-eclectic @lunitawrites

Pairing: Chump!Joel Miller × fem!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Tags/Warnings: Joel Miller NOT being a sex god, left flap rubbing, mention of the clit, piv sex (if you could call it that), premature ejaculation, age gap, dad's buddy!joel miller, bad make out sessions, misplaced confidence, secondhand embarrassment, crack fic

Summary: You really need to learn to lower your expectations.

A/N: I actually had a great time writing this and think it turned out really fucking funny.

A/N pt. 2: Well, the og post got fucking deleted, but here it is again. Fucking pissed. I would really appreciate any interaction even if you already did the first time just so I can get it back out there </3

special thanks to @romanarose, @wannab-urs, @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, and everyone else who helped me calm my tits and post this again. Love y'all ❤

*****

You’re bored out of your fucking mind. You’ve had four drinks and have walked in and out of the house probably a dozen times. For a neighborhood barbeque, it’s uneventful as hell. You would think that there would at least be a few interesting people out of so many. But no. So far there’s a group of old ladies gathered around the pool in sun chairs, their husbands around the grill talking about sports, and some kids—probably grandkids—running rampant around the yard. 

That’s what your dad gets for moving into a retiree neighborhood. There’s only a few other households you know of that don’t host couples in their late sixties. Kind of like, speak of the devil, the Millers, who are walking in through the yard gate right now. 

It’s only the two of them—Joel and his daughter, Sarah, who is only about eight. She runs off to go play with the other kids and you smile as you spot Joel struggling to carry a bowl and latch the gate back at the same time. You immediately take the opportunity to walk toward him. 

You’ve always had your eyes on Joel Miller, even though he’s only a few years younger than your father. He’s a DILF in all ways that count. Sweet, responsible, and hot as hell. 

“Hey, Mr. Miller,” you grab his attention as you reach where he’s still trying to balance everything. His face lights up when he sees you coming to help. 

“Hey, darlin’, you don’t mind helpin’ me with this, do ya?” he nods his head to the gate. 

“Nope, not at all,” you say sweetly as you get the gate latched behind him. He beams at you as he shifts to hold his dish with both hands. It looks heavy. 

“Thank you. And please, call me Joel.” He flashes you a wink that makes your stomach flutter before he starts for the back door. 

With nothing better to do, you follow him inside. He’s putting his bowl in the fridge when you close the door behind you and take a spot leaning against the counter. There’s nobody else inside right now, and you realize you might have just found your cure for boredom. 

You slide up next to Joel as he stands up. 

“What did you bring, Mr. Miller?” you ask him in an over the top sweet voice. 

He shoots you a pointed look and takes a step back to put a few inches between the two of you. 

“Potato salad,” he says flatly. “And please, it’s just Joel.” 

“Well, Joel,” you take a step toward him again. “I’m bored.” 

You swear you see him gulp, and you know you’ve got him right where you want him. He glances out the window, probably looking for your dad manning the grill. 

“Darlin’,” he says in warning. “I’m sure you can find something out there to do.” 

You pout at him. “But I found something to do in here.” 

“Honey, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“No?” you banter. “You don’t want to fuck me, Joel? I see the way you look at me.” 

He surges forward, trapping you against the counter. You smile wildly at him and throw your arms around his neck. 

“Get your ass upstairs, now,” he growls. “Strip and wait on your bed.” 

Your pussy flutters at his command, excitement building in your stomach. 

“Yes, Mr. Miller. Don’t be long.” You flash him a wink and slide from in front of him to make your way upstairs. You feel his eyes on you until you reach the top step. 

He only waits a little while, presumably to cover his bases so it doesn’t look like he’s sneaking off with his friend’s much-too-young daughter, before following you up. And by that time, you’re already naked and sitting on your bed. 

He comes in and shuts the door behind him, making sure it’s locked tightly before turning around. Your eyes go to the massive tent in his pants, your tongue coming out to wet your lips. 

“You’re fuckin gorgeous, darlin’,” he says as he takes a step toward you, already starting to unbuckle his jeans. He pulls his heavy cock out and your lips part. You’d expected him to be big, but holy shit.

“C’mon, baby, lay back for me.” 

You let him push you down on your back, and then scootch up a bit so that you’re resting with your head on the pillows. Your body is practically humming with excitement and need. Being with an older man has always been something high up on your bucket list, because there’s no doubt they know how to properly pleasure a woman. And a man like Joel Miller…you can’t fucking wait. 

He leans over you and takes your lips in a sloppy kiss. You wind your arms around him and arch your back, begging silently for him to touch you already. He slips his tongue inside your mouth, and your eyes widen. 

He’s just…licking. 

You find it really hot when a man uses his tongue to make out with you, but. Not like this. You rear your head back, trying to gain control of the kiss. But then his hand starts to trail down to your center and you decide, whatever, you can pick and choose your battles. You’ll let him do whatever the fuck he thinks he’s doing to your mouth as long as he gets those thick fingers inside of you already. 

He trails down, down, oh, there, he pets your clit and you shiver, and then—

Then he continues down…and to the left. 

He starts rubbing circles on your left flap, and you furrow your brows. 

What the actual fuck?? 

You unwind your arms and start pushing on his chest until he pulls his tongue from your mouth to gaze down at you. 

“Joel, you—” 

“Yeah, you fuckin’ like that, don’t you, baby?” 

You just blink at him. What?

He winks at you. “I know, darlin’, feels real good, huh?” He dips back down to start kissing you again, thankfully leaving his damn tongue out of it. His fingers increase pressure, which you can only guess would feel really good if he was actually rubbing your clit. 

“Joel,” you mutter against his lips again, but it comes out smushed and smothered. Kind of like your poor pussy right now. Or the outside of it, at least. 

“So impatient,” he laughs. “Hold on one second, baby, Mr. Miller’s got you.” 

You resist the urge to cringe at that. 

He taps your abused pussy lip twice and retracts his hand to grasp his cock, which you’re now worried about. Hopefully he knows how to fucking use that thing. He guides his tip to your entrance—or tries to, rather, and you groan in defeat. He rubs it up and down your slit, prodding every second or so. 

“Yeah, baby, fuckin’ love those sounds you make for me.” 

You just stare at him. You’re not going to even pretend. This is just insane. How the hell did he actually make a kid??

Finally, he finds your hole—the right one, thank god—and starts to push in. You’re still pretty wet from earlier, though you’re sure there will be no developments in that department. Thankfully, it’s enough to ease the stuttering glide. 

Once he’s fully in, he starts to thrust, and you grip on to him, holding on to that last hope that maybe he can nail your g-spot with that weapon of his. 

“M…Feel so g-good, baby,” Joel moans. 

He thrusts once, twice, three times, moaning like a fucking animal. 

And then he pulls out. And shakes above you as he spills his cum on your lower belly. 

You stare at him in shock as he rolls over and collapses beside you. His eyes are closed as he pants and reaches a hand over you to touch your stomach. 

“You came?” he asks. 

You consider lying to him, but figure he doesn’t deserve that. 

“No, Joel, I did not fucking come.” 

“Oh, okay. Tha’s alright. Get you next time.” 

You sit up and gape at him. 

“Get the fuck out of my room!” 

He looks at you with confusion but gets up after a moment. He yawns, tucks himself into his pants, and struts for your door. 

“Don’t be ashamed to ask for more, darlin’. I wouldn’t be opposed to doin’ this again sometime.” He sends you a wink and walks out of the room before you get the chance to say something you’ll regret more than whatever the fuck just happened. 

You learned a valuabale lesson today: age really does not fucking matter. 

[malusokay]

How to be like Song Ji-a

Hey babes! I’m so excited to start my little “it-girls series”, of course, starting with no other than my favourite girly, Song Ji-a. She has it all: beauty, style, and confidence. In this post, I’ll show you how to embody her energy, break down the key elements of her style, summarise some of her best advice, and give you all the details on how to be a bit more like her. <3

Ji-a’s energy:

Confidence is key: Ji-a exudes confidence no matter what she’s wearing or doing. Take some inspo from her and start by showing yourself some extra self-love to build your confidence! :)

Be true to yourself: Ji-a never tries to fit into someone else’s mould, and neither should you! Embrace your unique style and show off your personality through your beauty and fashion choices.

Take care of your body: Ji-a is all about that healthy lifestyle, so hit the gym, try a new workout, and fuel your body with nutritious food to boost your energy and confidence. You can also motivate yourself by buying cute matching workout sets!! <3

Stay on-trend: Ji-a’s always ahead of the fashion curve, and we’re here for it. Keep an eye out for the latest fashion and beauty trends, and don’t be afraid to experiment with different looks to find your signature style. <3

Ji-a’s style:

Simple but chic outfits: Ji-a rocks effortless, minimalist looks with a twist. Get inspired by her style and try adding a pop of your interests to your outfit with bold accessories or unique cuts.

Flawless makeup: Ji-a’s makeup is seriously on point, and yours can be too! Play around with colours, shimmery glitter, and dramatic lips to add some extra charm to your look! :)

Skincare is key: Ji-a swears by her skincare routine to achieve that radiant complexion. So, start taking care of your skin and try out some new hydrating products to get that glow.

Cute Hairstyles: Try out some playful and cute hairstyles or accessorise with some fun hair clips. Don’t forget about your hair care!!

Details, details, details: Ji-a pays attention to every little detail, from her nails to her jewellery. Add some extra touches to your outfit with statement jewellery or cute nail art!! <3

Elevate your lifestyle:

Self-care is everything: Ji-a emphasises the importance of self-care, so take some time for yourself to unwind and recharge with some yoga, journaling, or a good book!

Stay positive: Positive vibes only! Surround yourself with people who uplift you, practice positive self-talk, and write down daily affirmations to keep that positive mindset. :)

Follow your passions: Ji-a is all about chasing her dreams, and you should be too! Pursue your hobbies or dream career, and don’t be afraid to take risks.

Be confident: Ji-a is all about owning your unique qualities and quirks, so let your true self shine and don’t be afraid to stand out from the crowd.

Be kind: Ji-a is known for her kind and generous personality, so spread some love and kindness wherever you go.

How to channel your inner Ji-a:

Embrace minimalism: Ji-a’s style is all about simplicity, so try decluttering your space and simplifying your wardrobe to achieve that clean, chic look.

Not everyone will like you, and that's okay: Even Ji-a has had to deal with haters and jealous people in the past (the whole fake designer thing lol...), yet she stays confident and continuously does her thing! You can do that too!! <3

Try out some K-beauty: Being Korean, many of her favourite beauty brands and products are from Korean brands. Experiment with some K-Beauty products to get that glowing complexion! :)

Be yourself: Above all, Ji-a is known for being authentic; whether she’s on camera or in public, she seems to radiate a sense of self-assurance, which spreads confidence and inspiration to others! Stop worrying about what others might think, you're beautiful <3

As always, please feel free to share your own suggestions in the comments and let me know who you want me to write about next! <3

✩‧₊*:・love ya ･:*₊‧✩

[writingwithfolklore]

Distinguishing Between Character Perspectives

                I’m sure many of you are already working on projects that have multiple characters that hold perspective (as in, we follow the story from their eyes), or you will someday. Whether you do it chapter by chapter or just intentionally head-hop, distinguishing between perspectives of characters is important both for clarity to the readers (we want to be able to hop into any part of the story and know who we’re with) as well as for conveying character!

                We do this through building the narrator with the character’s voice.

                Whether you’re writing first person, third person omniscient or limited, or even second person, your narrator is going to have a voice. This voice is the voice of the character you are following.

                Narrator voice works almost the exact same as how you would write your character voice. Your narrator is going to tell the story matching the attitude and background of their character. Background will influence the kind of words they use, the way they see the world, and how they would comment on it. In an easy example, if your character doesn’t swear—their narrator definitely wouldn’t, unless the character swears inside their own thoughts but not out loud.

                Attitude is telling personality through voice. Take for example, your character has just walked into the bar:

                “The bar was filled to the brim with sweaty drunks falling over each other, barely cognizant of the drinks they were spilling--much less so the people around them.”

                Versus

                “Upbeat dance music filled the bar. A crowd had formed in the middle of the floor, people cheering and dancing together like the rest of the world hardly mattered.”

                Same situation, far different attitude.

                Your narrator for different characters will use their tone, their word choices, and convey a specific and unique outlook on the world. All of this conveys their character in an intimate way (the narrator is almost like their inner-thoughts or literally seeing through their eyes) and will make reading works with multiple perspectives far more interesting!

                (However, this also applies even if there’s only one perspective!)

                What are some unique choices you made for your narrator/characters’ voices?

[dejaonline]

same space | shuriri x spoiled!black!fem!reader

Summary: you and shuri have a unique romantic history—the two of you have been bonded by an “arrangement”, but it’s been a good while since you’ve seen each other last. What happens when a routine drunk call + rescue reveals that it is no longer just the two of you.

Content includes: mentions of drugs and alcohol, swearing, semi-offensive insults.

Translations:

nkosazana- princess

umhle nkosazana yam- you look beautiful, my princess

Author’s note: ahh! Baby’s first fic! I am extremely nervous posting this, but i’m equally just as excited. I wanna say thank you to my baby boo @prettymrswright for all of her help and encouragement throughout the process. my tummy is achinggg (anxious girlies stand up!) but i cannot wait to hear what you guys think! thank ya’ll in advance for reading <3

Tagging some of my favsss: @prettymrswright @sapphicvqmpires @kisskourt @inmyheadimobsessed @pvnks0ul @vampzxi @quintessencewrites

Shuri took a deep breath, bracing herself for the chaos awaiting her just behind the heavy doors of the mansion. She could feel the music up through her arm as she pushed through the barrier.

She stepped inside and took in her surroundings. Glitter covered the marble floors, shimmering beneath the beams of light coming from one of the many disco balls hanging down from the high ceilings. A neon ‘Studio 54’ sign was mounted on the wall surrounded by vintage photographs and abstract art pieces.

To the left was a dimly-lit lounge with large, plush earth-toned couches and loveseats. People dressed in rhinestone covered jumpsuits and bell bottoms were socializing throughout the space, some smoking or sitting at the bar with decorated martini glasses.

The young royal ventured down a dark hallway to the right of her, following the sound of music emitting from the commodious ballroom. Colorful rays of light bounced off the walls and beneath Siri’s black boots, multi-colored tiles danced around to the beat.

The queen stood out amongst the sea of metallic gogo boots and fringe. Her slender frame was concealed beneath a black, oversized blazer and perfectly tailored pants to match. Her wandering eyes hid behind her favorite pair of black shades.

Shuri did her best to avoid getting sandwiched between a couple of inebriated bodies thrashing around her. She swiveled her head, attempting to locate you amongst the crowd until finally spotting you.

You were tucked away in a roped off section, attention focused on someone sitting dangerously close to you in the conversation pit. In the center sat a glass table, littered with empty liquor bottles, ashtrays, and assorted sizes of plastic bags. Your smooth, rich skin was covered in a sheer, floor length gown. Diamonds cascaded in detailed patterns across the fabric and tufts of feathers decorated the sleeves and hem, sweeping the silver open-toed platform heels on your feet. Your fresh braids lay parted down the center, hanging down to your lower back. You looked opulent and sexy in the iconic gown. The shimmer on your eyelids and glossy lips catching the light.

You sat with your legs crossed, one arm stretched out beside you and the other resting on your thigh while you sat back engaged in a conversation with a girl in a beaded mini dress. You watched her lips as she chatted about..stuff.

Your liquor induced arousal was immediately redirected once you caught sight of the slim figure looming behind the stranger.

“I hate to cut you off baby, but my ride is here.”

You eyed Shuri from head to toe, lingering on the bit of exposed chest behind her blazer. You leaned forward to plant a quick kiss on the girl's left cheek before standing to take Shuri’s awaiting hand.

She pressed her palm against the small of your back, steadying you.

“You okay to walk, nkosazana?”

You looked to Shuri with big, pleading eyes and she took the hint. She wrapped one of your arms around the back of her neck and scooped you up into her arms bridal style.

The two of you made your way back to the entrance. You were highly intoxicated and giggling in Shuri’s hold, your head pressed against her chest. You caught a whiff of her signature scent, the mix of sweetness and musk that you recognized as Tom Ford Vanille Fatale. You bought it for her a while back and it had been her favorite ever since.

Meanwhile, Shuri was playing it cool, trying not to make it obvious how happy she was to have you this close again. She cracked a smile at how easily tickled you became at her praise.

Although the noise level had significantly quieted down, Shuri whispered into you again.

“You look beautiful, my love.”

Another giggle escaped you and it was music to Shuri’s ears.

“Thank you, shuri bear”

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that, y/n” Shuri huffed before letting you down, her still wrapped around you until the swaying ceased.

“Oh, by the way, this is Riri.”

Shuri softly tapped on the tinted window, prompting the stranger to roll it down.

Riri sat stone-faced and unamused. Her sharp jaw clenched in annoyance before she threw an uninterested two finger wave your way. She still had not looked in your direction, but your gaze locked in on her. She sat slouched in the front seat of Shuri’s Maserati Quattroporte, wearing a baggy denim jacket over a tight fitting white crop top with matching baggy jeans.

Your attention focused on the neat star design braided into the side of her head and the joint tucked behind her ear.

Even drunk, you could sense that she didn’t like you. Or at least she didn’t care much for you. She didn’t even know you, how could she not like you?

“You good, Cher?”

Riri’s low voice pulled you from your thoughts and you tightened up immediately, flipping your braids back and straightening out your dress. You wouldn’t let her see you sweat, but can admit you were impressed she caught the reference. You threw on a fake smile before bending down to reach her level.

‘You’re in my seat, Riri—“

Before she could respond Shuri snatched you away from the window.

“Hey watch the dress!” You shouted.

Shuri pulled you around to the driver’s side pushing you up against the side of the car. You yanked your arm out of her grip.

“The fuck was that for?”

Shuri stepped closer to you, the front of her body touching yours.

“Riri is my girlfriend, she’s not riding in the back.”

You stared blankly at Shuri as your thoughts began to race again.

Girlfriend? When did this happen? How did this happen?

It seemed Shuri could read your mind.

“We can talk about this later. Just sit in the back and be good for me, please? Riri likes to fight.”

Shuri opened the back door, helping you inside. She was about to close the door, but stopped to pop her head back inside the vehicle, taking your chin between her thumb and index finger.

“Play nice” she whispered

Your eyes followed Shuri as she hopped back into the front seat. The engine purred to life and the three of you were off.

You stared out the window at the star lit sky, watching the lavish residence disappear from view, thinking back to the last time you had seen Shuri.

Four months ago the two of you were inseparable. Showing up to parties together, showering each other with gifts, sneaking away to private islands. It may have seemed extravagant to others, but it was a lifestyle the two of you were accustomed to.

You enjoyed your time together, but both parties especially enjoyed the freedom that came with not committing.

It was no secret that you and Shuri had undeniable chemistry. She would do anything for you, go anywhere with you.

The reason you weren’t in Riri’s position was because you didn’t need to be. Girlfriend or not, Shuri was never really out of reach. Your history ran deep and you had been through a lot together. Somewhere down the line, friends became more and things became romantic.

You both saw other people, nothing serious. Shuri usually had a few girls on rotation. It didn’t really bother you because she would abandon whomever she was using to occupy her time with to be with you.

It was one of the things you loved most about her. She was kind and attentive, kept you in check, never let you get lazy or unfocused.

On top of that she really knew how to f—

“-uck is she back there daydreaming about?” Riri snapped.

“She does that a lot” Shuri laughed.

“You wanna hit this or not? Don’t got all night.”

Riri held the lit joint between her fingers, pointing it in your direction.

“Thanks.” You replied dryly

You took it from her, then began to examine the bubblegum pink rolling paper.

“You roll this, Riri?”

“Yeah. Problem?”

You didn’t miss the small smirk that crept upon her face as she awaited your response.

“You used my rolling papers.” You stated matter-of-factly.

Your voice came out more shrill than you intended.

Shuri cut her eyes to you through the rear view mirror. It was a look you had come to learn was a silent warning.

“You left them behind the last time you were over, nkosazana”

You looked back over to Riri, who had now cracked a full blown smile. She watched in amusement as you took a long drag, letting the smoke fill your lungs.

You blew a path directly at her with the remaining smoke, letting it drift around her chiseled face and creating the illusion of her sitting among the clouds.

Her gaze had yet to leave yours. She was studying you: the way your nose scrunched up in annoyance, how your plump lips seemed to always sit in a permanent pout, and fixating on the way your chest increasingly rose and fell.

Maybe it was the weed or maybe it was the fact that Riri was stunning. Her eyes were intense as they bore into you, it made you nervous. It also made you extremely horny.

The car finally rolled into Shuri’s garage. And although you felt a suffocating heaviness in the vehicle, neither you nor Riri moved. You both knew better than to touch your own door handle.

Shuri went for your door first. You stepped out and pushed right past her, leaving no room for conversation. The clicking of your heels echoed throughout the vast garage as you stormed off, hips swaying beneath your dress.

The couple silently watched your figure stride past the rows of parked vehicles and vanish behind the door, making your way inside the house.

Shuri sighed deeply, carefully contemplating her next move. She grabbed Riri’s hands and kissed her knuckles before guiding her inside.

Inside, you made a b-line straight for the kitchen. You swung open one of the cabinets just above your head, snatching a wine glass from inside before slamming it shut.

Shuri was leaned up against the wall, right next to the small space that housed her impressive wine collection. Her eyes traveled down to the glass in your hand and she rolled her eyes, turning to grab the handle.

She disappeared inside, a look of contemplation on her face as she scanned the rows of bottles. Finally, she reached for a 1973 Chateau Montelena Chardonnay. She sauntered toward you, sending you a cryptic smile before heading right for the same cabinet you were just abusing.

In her hand she held two more wine glasses.

“I taught you better than that, y/n.” She teased.

Shuri made her way into the living room and you followed behind.

Riri sat alone on one of the couches, her hand rested over her face.

Shuri stood before you two, looking as beautiful as ever, oozing with charm and sex appeal. She set two of the glasses down, prompting you to add yours to the mix. You jumped at the ‘pop’ of the cork, anxious to have the glass back in your grasp.

“I think we should play a game, get to know each other a little better.” Her accent was thick, but it was no match for the tension in the air.

“And why would we do that?” You questioned.

The last thing you were interested in doing was learning anything about Riri. You felt you had gathered enough information about her from the ride to Shuri’s place: her name and the fact that she has a nasty attitude. Which is rich coming from you.

“Because, princess,” Shuri paused as she filled each glass. “If I’m going to keep both of you in my life, I want you two to bond, learn to get along.” She passed one to Riri, then you, before picking up the last for herself.

Before she could take a sip, her kimoyo beads hummed to life, signaling that someone was trying to contact her.

“I’ll be right back” was all she said before rushing out of the room.

Silence once again fell upon the house. You sipping from your glass, Riri staring you down from across the room. She was the first to speak up.

“So, what escort service did she find your ass from?”

You choked on your drink, appalled at the accusation.

“What the fuck did you just say to me, Keebler elf?”

You were trying to keep your voices down, afraid Shuri would hear from wherever she ran off to.

Riri stood up from her seat, coming face to face with you.

“There’s no way someone would be desperate enough to cling onto someone with a whole ass girlfriend the way that you do without getting paid for it.”

You stood your ground, pushing your upper body up to meet Riri halfway, mere inches away from her face.

“And you’d have to be one dumb bitch to think that title has any meaning.”

“Y/N!”

Before you could register the end of that exchange, Shuri grabbed you up for the second time that night, dragging you down the corridor and into a guest room. She slammed the door behind her, shoulders raising and dropping as she breathed heavily.

Stupidly, you opened your mouth to defend yourself.

“Shuri, that’s not fair, she was being awful to me—“

“I do not care! That is my partner, you do not speak to her like that. You disrespect her, you disrespect me. You’re lucky she even allowed you to step foot in our home!”

Our home. Your throat tightened at the sound. You were starting to feel sick.

“I should have told you earlier, I’m sorry.”

Shuri kneeled in front of you, taking your hands into hers.

“I met Riri a while back, when I went on that trip to Massachusetts.”

“That was six months ago.” You were trying to keep up with the timeline of events that Shuri was explaining to you.

“Yes. We kept in touch, nothing serious.” She peered up at you, waiting for your reaction.

“Go on.”

She cleared her throat before continuing.

“Of course you know, I got this place here in New York to be closer to you. But then I had to return home for a while.”

Things were starting to add up. You remembered having to say goodbye to Shuri, how much you had missed her over the last 4 months.

“Riri came to help me in the lab and we grew to enjoy each other's company. Not in the way that I’m used to, this was real. We made things official and when all the chaos settled, I asked her to return to the city with me.”

You were speechless for a moment, taking in Shuri’s words. You didn’t find yourself being angry, you had no right. The two of you were never exclusive and until a few weeks ago, you didn’t even entertain the thought of it. It had never bothered you that Shuri preferred an open relationship, but hearing that she was serious about Riri struck you to your core.

“Does she know?” You whispered.

“About us?” You nodded in response.

“Yes, I told her up front. My love for you never ceases. No matter who I am with, no matter where I go. You may not have chosen me, my love, but I will always choose you.”

Classic Shuri, girl always had a way with words.

“So how does this work?”

“Riri doesn't care for monogamy, that is how this even works in the first place. We’ll have to set some boundaries, of course, but I believe that we can figure this out. You just have to trust me, okay?”

It was a lot to consider. To say that you and Riri were at odds was an understatement, and establishing mutual tolerance would take some work. But you saw how much this meant to Shuri.

“I missed you, Shuri” you said honestly. Fatigue began to overcome you, and Shuri knew she didn’t have much longer to converse with you.

You laid back onto the bed while Shuri removed your heels. She covered you with a blanket and bent down towards your face. Your eyelids grew heavier with each passing second.

“We’ll talk some more in the morning. Get some rest now. Did I already tell you how beautiful you look?”

“Yeah, but you can tell me again.”

A big smile broke across Shuri’s face. She placed soft kisses on your cheeks, one after another, and lingered as she made contact with your forehead.

“umhle nkosazana yam”

It was the last thing you heard before sleep carried you off.

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Merhaba!

If you feel uncomfortable, you can delete this request!

Warning: non-con, toxic behavior, baby trapping?

Request here! for a modern dark!aegon, where the reader has been his friend for a long time and aegon has a horrible dependency on her, as well as an obsession and mostly never lets anyone near her, since he sees her as his, anyway, the reader one day tells him she is accepted for a scholarship in another country but he gets mad because she is going to leave him so he forces her to have sex with him and also hopes to get her pregnant so she will never leave him.

you’re so cute nonnie!!!!! this is totally fine, I don’t normally write for non-con, but I’ll let this slide cause it’s kinda hot 🥵 I’m combining it with this ask, and leaning more towards a dub-con, manipulation tactic of dark!Aegon!!! hope you enjoy xx

quote in the link above is - "gentle, slow manipulation - "just a kiss" to "I'll only grind against you" to "only the tip, promise" to "just a little more" to "I won't cum inside" until you're a cum-filled wreck underneath them."

Dilemmas & Dreams.

PAIRING: Dark!Modern!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader

WORDS: 4,179.

WARNINGS: swearing, angst, co-dependency, somnophilia, dub-con, slight mentions of non-con, mentions of pregnancy, time jumps.

A/N - so this took me forever cause it was a hard concept to plot. tried to make it more dub-con/non-con but still slightly consensual, just because I do not condone using violence for sex. but dark!Aeg is just my intrusive thots. I also did not include my taglists, just cause I did not want to trigger or force anyone to feel the need to read this, if it isn't your thing <3 no pressure. this is for a specific audience.

It was an universal understanding that relationships could get complicated from time to time, to say at the very least... This did not cease with your unique relationship with Aegon.

With every fibre in your heart, you love him dearly, and that [if you were being honest], would never change. He generally was not the ideal type of man you'd pursue [as you had initially assumed] nor did you think it was even a realistic possibility to fall for his type. Likewise, you did no think of yourself as his particular type, although Aegon was less picky than you when it came to finding a mate. Yet he had this almost omnipotent-like power over you. Luring you farther and deep enough, he kept you eagerly lingering for more: for more of his touch, his scent, his love and affections. An urge you attempted countless of times to keep silenced and at bay, and yet you felt the constant, probing need to keep the man sated.

With many of your short, previous relationships, you'd never granted a man the opportunity to bear such a profound effect on you, nor did any of them truly possess the charisma Aegon had naturally wielded. It was all very consuming and perplexing, yet a part of you quite enjoyed the crisp attention Aegon showered you with in return for your loyalty and commitment to him. Your long-time warfare of constantly seeking approval and praise did not help the situation either, only exploiting your vulnerability more, as you vowed to refuse disappointing the man at all costs.

And from what you had learnt and could decipher about Aegon's history, he had never grown this infatuated with another before, let alone actually granted himself the opportunity to have a significant other. His previous flings had been fleeting and meaningless, only to glutton himself off of sex, inflating his subtle ego. However, you, you had caught him off-guard. A fellow colleague and long-time friend of Aemond's, you had met mutually. You knew of each other, though had never truly met, for Aemond was desperate to keep some distance between yourself and his elder brother. He had mentioned many things about Aegon, not all good, yet you knew better than to judge or presume. In theory, you were both quite the opposites, yet something about you, your innocence, warm demeanour drew him to you, like a moth to a flame. From the many family quarrels Aemond had disclosed to you, it seemed Aegon was problematic with some sort of self-conflict from within. He struggled with certain tendencies such as drinking, partying, avoiding responsibilities, yet nonetheless, he was still pretty decent and respectful towards you. Helplessly though, you felt an immense pity for him, even if Aemond argued against it, perhaps it was your nativity: regardless, the more Aegon latched himself closer towards you, the better he became. More present at home, the less he drank and spent his days hungover and pissed, the less hostile he was towards his family.

Although, he remained a pest towards his younger brothers, Aemond and Daeron, occasionally taunting them. Not to mention, he did go against Aemond's urges to leave you alone.

"Aeg, Y/N's off limits. I have never asked of anything from you, nor have I ever really expected anything from you, if I'm being honest. But, I digress, she is off limits. Understood?"

"Why, have you finally grown the balls to actually ask her out? Or you scared she'll actually say yes to the likes of me?"

"OFF LIMITS Aeg! I fucking mean it!"

"No, no- How about I date Y/N instead, and in return I leave you alone? See now that sounds like an even better deal to me, brother."

Not to mention, you were undeniably a sight for sore eyes, beautiful nonetheless, he was determined to have you. The thought that someone else could pluck you from him at any given second, not excluding his younger brother, began to stir something rageful inside of him. The more time he spent around you, the more possessive he could feel himself becoming. A side he did not fathom existed in him, yet you had so ignorantly ignited. Although, he relished in it. Eventually, and much to Aemond's reluctance he inserted himself into your conversations, making his presence known whenever you were around, or forcing his younger brother to exploit your whereabouts with threats only each brother knew about one another. Regardless, his tactics worked and eventually, you became his. His.

Since then all had been bliss, yet, now, you were struck with a dilemma...

****

"What do you mean you could be moving, Y/N? Is this a few weeks kinda thing or you're gone... For good?" Aegon raised, his voice growing audibly louder with such a ferocity, you'd never heard the likes of it before.

"W-Well it's a scholarship, Aeg. One that I honestly never even thought possible to get, I-I just applied off a whim. B-But now that they're offering it, maybe, just maybe, I was hoping you could support me."

The words fell shaky from your quivering lips; Aegon's face was struck with a blatant concoction of confusion, hurt and fury, like a wounded predator that had unforeseen a counter attack.

"Just answer me this, Y/N, how long exactly will you be gone for? How long are you planning to leave me?"

He took a great stride towards you, his hands reaching over, tightly gripping your forearms by the sides, as if in fear you might run at any minute. His voice although stern and unnerving, his lilac eyes glistened tearily.

"It-It's a funded Masters course, Aeg, just for two years I'll be studying abroad. B-But I'll plan to come back to see you whenever I can. Every holiday, every semester's break, you bet I'm coming back to you. A-And you could even come and see me, baby. You know, I-I would never leave you like that, Aeg, you know this, p-please-"

An eerie silence was all that you were met with, as Aegon's grip on you had loosened slowly. His face remained stoic, yet his teary eyes flickered, before he began to dauntingly nod his head, walking away from you towards the closed window of your apartment. You could hear sniffles, before he released a long, exhausted sigh as he looked onwards to the scenery outside.

"So this is how you disregard me, huh, Y/N? Is this how you see me, see us? Just something you can toss to the fucking side, once you find something a little more interesting to chase after?"

His harsh words stung like the venom of a viper. Now turned back towards you, his hardened gaze was chilling, almost even threatening. You felt somewhat fearful of Aegon at this very exact moment, although he would never hurt you, that you were certain of. He was often stubborn and hot-tempered though knew to control himself swiftly. Reassured by this, you simultaneously also felt the desperate urge to coddle and soothe his fears, vouching that you could nor would ever dispose of him like some piece of garbage.

"A-Aeg, never! That's not me, please! You are overthinking this, Aegon, you'-re-you're not thinking straight, my love. I-I know this can be overwhelming but t-try to understand me. Please-"

Taking a small step towards him, you came to a sudden halt, as he took a step back maintaining the distance between. His hand lifting mid way as if to signal you to stop, swatting you away.

"So now my feelings aren't valid? Fuck, Y/N... You really are starting to sound like a real, spoilt little bitch now. Just like the rest of them fucking sluts!"

Seating himself promptly down onto the bed, he ran his fingers through his platinum blonde hair, his head facing towards the ground, as another defeated sigh escaped his lips once more. It was only when he resumed his sole attention back unto your frozen frame, did he stupidly realise that now he had really crossed the line.

"Get out," Your voice although quiet just above a whisper, was crisp.

"Y/N-Baby-I-I didn't mean that-"

"Out, Aegon!"

A tightness in your chest began to intensify, a hand falling over your left, clothed breast, as your breathing began to hasten into loud, hitched sobs. Your eyes darted mindlessly around the room, feeling as though the walls began to close in, a sense of claustrophobia that you'd never feared nor experienced before brewing. Your cheeks turning scarlet by the seconds, as your eyes began to fill with hot tears, streaking down your tender face. Cowering down your other free hand, was poorly attempting to grab at anything solid enough to keep you upright, although Aegon bounding over towards you, reached over, lending you a spare chair, guiding your shaking body over to sit, as he cowered down in front of you.

"Y/N, Y/N, my angel, baby please- I-I didn't mean that, I-I could never mean that. I'm just so-just so upset that you-you didn't tell me about this. You-You always tell me everything. What would I do without you, huh, my sweet girl?-"

Brushing a strand of your hair aside, his other free hand cupping your hot, blushed cheek, his thumb stroking away a freshly fallen tear.

"H-How could I live without you for two years, if I can't even bear an evening without you?"

And yet no response other than earning heart-aching sobs from your behalf. Seeing you in such a distraught, unconsolable state only in turn tormented Aegon, as the tears that he had once so proudly held back, now began to streak across his soft, handsome face.

"B-Baby, please. Please, say something. I-I'm so sorry, don't-don't hate me. I couldn't bear it-"

"Ugh- Just fuck off, Aegon!-" Wailing his arms off you, you shove him off, as you stand hastily, storming aside, creating that deliberate distance in between once again. Aegon slowly rises himself up, that familiar hurt look tinged across his disheartened face, he roughly wipes the tears off his eyes, leaving them puffy and red.

"Sorry? Sorry about what exactly, Aeg? Sorry, that you can't just be an adult for one second, and accept the fact that some of us have priorities in our lives other than being in a fucking relationship? To think that you could be mature about this, how foolish of me..."

"Y/N, I-"

"Don't, Aeg! Don't even bother explaining yourself... I think it's best that you just leave me to decide."

Brazenly interrupting him before he could utter another word, your hand meekly gestures towards the door to your apartment. You couldn't even find the stamina to look Aegon dead in the eyes, fearful that any tender look from his part, you'd crumble once more in a second.

Seeing how riled up and tense you were, Aegon reluctantly began to pace himself towards the door, taking his time before a firm hand reached, gripping the metal knob of the door. The door opening as he unlocked the entry, he came to a sudden stop, turning back momentarily staring at you, tempted to say something. However, just as his attention panned across to you, your focus from him shifted elsewhere, fleeting from a window to the floor, desperate not to look directly at him. Sensing your message, he remained quiet as he left the premises, firmly shutting the door behind.

As the pain-staking silence fell once more, the intensity of the situation felt magnitude that very second Aegon had left. Feeling weak in your knees, your walked back over towards your bed, laying yourself down, burying your tearful face into a pillow, as the sobs returned, only now muffled. Your mind was racing rapidly. Regardless of what had unfolded, you cared deeply for Aegon and knew that it wounded him immensely that you hadn't involved him in your decision, prior to making such a life-changing commitment. It was his life too, that you toyed with, and a deep, integral part of you felt somewhat guilty.

Although, the ugly side of Aegon had showed, and it scarred you bitterly. Would he act and lash out like this at every chance something major would come? Was it a flaw of his, that you were willing to accept and embrace? You had no certainty. The fleeting minutes became hours into the night, as you laid still in bed, empty of tears, eyes stinging, your pillow soaked and face flustered, before you'd gradually began to fall into a deep sleep. Exhausted by the day's mishaps, you were hopeful the new day would offer some consolation...

****

Whether you had been dreaming vividly enough to be stirred awake, you could not say. Although, Aegon was on your mind as you drifted off to sleep, remaining in your dreams and as you slightly woke, too tiresome to remember the details of the events in the long hours prior. You felt something heavy, yet awfully familiar, the musky scent, pressing against your body.

Followed by a soft "shush-ing", you instantly recognised the deep, low tone that belonged to your boyfriend's manly voice.

"It's just me, baby. Go back to sleep. I couldn't leave you all alone like this."

"Hmm, Aeg-" Was all that you could pathetically muster, before returning readjusting your head on the pillow. It wasn't uncommon for Aegon to find himself in your apartment after hours or even whilst you were still out during the day, for you did offer him keys, and came home to find him lounging around as if it was his own home. You trusted him enough to share a copy, and up until now, he had been loyal not to abuse his right, thus, this reoccurrence had never startled you.

"That's right, my sweet girl. It's just me... I'm going to fix everything, okay?"

Unlike how sinister and brooding his tone with you was just hours ago, you now felt comforted and safe, hearing that familiar, saintly tone of his. Like a lullaby it ushered you back to sleep, as you felt a small, wet kiss planted on your forehead, as he brushed the astray strands off your face, taking a few moments to gaze upon you lustfully, before stirring himself up.

Feeling the mattress beneath move, you sensed that he was now positioned on his knees, hovering above you, as each leg pinned to either sides of your upper thighs, faintly hearing a metal clanging, as he unbuckled his belt and zipper. You remained laying comfortably on your stomach, your back facing him, your face turned to the side against the plush pillow, he could see you just faintly nodding against his words in agreement. It earned a soft smile from Aegon, as he pulled his pants down enough, laying over you, as his bare, hard cock began to grind against the thin fabric of your dress, just between your ass cheeks. Just from the sheer action, you could feel some wetness stirring beneath, a visceral reaction Aegon found so easily he could induce from you.

"Only the tip, baby... I promise. I'm going to make it up to you, my sweet, sweet angel."

Sensually lifting your dress up, he lightly lifted you, turning you slightly to the side with one arm, just enough for him to pull your panties down: planting you back gently, as to not startle you completely awake.

"My good, good girl. Always doing so well for me, not like anyone else...I was such a dick to you, wasn't I, baby?"

Earning another simple nod, he resumed with grazing his cock over your sensitive skin, feeling its pulsating throbs against your cheeks.

"But my princess, did do something very naughty... Trying to leave me, without asking. Leaving me all alone, you know how upset that would make me, right baby?"

"Hmm-Aeg-"

"But look at you begging for me...Now what makes you think you could leave me so easily, then? Precious girl, didn't think this through, did she?"

Gradually, his firm, thick cock slowly began to push itself deeper and deeper between your thighs, as one, strong arm stretched over your side to keep him steady, the other manoeuvred your legs, spreading them wide enough for him to position himself right between your centre.

"Don't worry, Princess. I'm here now, I'm going to help you make this decision, like a good boyfriend. Wouldn't want you to overthink anything, now let me take care of you... I promise I won't go in deeper, I won't cum inside."

Feeling your eyes naturally flutter from reality and dream, as you felt a lightening pain course through your body from the sensitive spot below. Aegon had forced himself in, your walls stretching as wide as possible to accomodate for his dense, throbbing mass, you could feel yourself tightly clenching over him, rewarded by deep, growling grunts and moans from him.

"Fuck, baby. Always know how fucking good to make me feel...Now why would you ruin it, and do something so stupid? Have I been so cruel, you wish to leave me?"

"N-No Aeg-" You'd managed to softly whimper, stirring even more awake, although eyes remained firmly shut, as you arched yourself in response to Aegon's slowly paced thrusts.

"Are you bored with Aeg, that you want to leave me?"

"No."

"Have I frightened you so, you wish to run away far from me?"

Within that split second he'd uttered those words, that familiar, daunting tone returned to him, and you felt your heart begin to beat feverishly.

"I-I love you Aeg."

Now his thrusts began to hasten in response to your words, his grunts primal and louder.

"Say it again, I'm struggling to believe you. You tried to deceive me today, angel. That was cruel of you...Say it again."

"I love you, Aegon."

This time more awake and conscious of what was going on, you were too deeply saturated in being sated by Aegon in the moment. You couldn't muster a single ounce of dignity nor sanity at this very moment to stop him in his tracks, knowing what he was capable of, he had all the power in his court.

"P-Pull out, Aeg-"

Your wetness now greatly coating his deep, hefty cock, feeling the mess beginning to ooze and seep from the edges of your entrance down your thighs. As he pulled out slightly and with his help, he turned you over, now both of you facing one another, although this time, managing to maintain complete and utter focus. Resuming to his sloppy, rough thrusts, you could feel the intensity of his cock, determined to push and shove himself as deep as possible, the tip of his cock just striking that sweet, sensitive spot of your cervix.

Aegon's face lowered down towards yours, as his ample, moist lips lingered over yours. Momentarily, just grazing above one another, before plummeting down on yours, as he noticed your lips beginning to stir to speak, desperate to shut you before you could ask once more. His tongue forced it way into yours, swirling and occupying your own: this unexplainable control that he had over you, now once more overtaking you. In the moments that Aegon had left, although maddened by his words, you had missed him. Could his brutal words bear truth, that two years without seeing him, would be impossible?

"Now, why would I do that? I promised you I would help, that's what I'm going to do. I'm doing this all for us."

His lips now trailing along your jawline down to the crook of your neck, where he knew you had a weak, sensitive spot that made you close to thoughtless. You could feel a upturn smirk strewed across his face, against your skin. Regardless, you could not surmise his intention, far too deep in devious, lustful thoughts, you needed Aegon to sate you completely.

"A-Aeg-"

Within a few more long, taunting minutes as Aegon edged you on, he could no longer contain himself. Feeling his warm, dense seed filling you up, it was a feeling unlike the many, intimate times before. You both were often proactive in protection, and yet tonight, although different, it was somewhat sublime.

"That's my good, perfect girl, that's it. Did so fucking well. I need you to stay put like this for me, okay?"

Regardless, that his fill had drenched you inside, Aegon remained buried deeply inside. Somehow, managing to turn you once more to the side, as he laid himself cosily behind you, thick, muscular arms holding you tenderly from behind, as his cock remained sorely stretching yet pleasantly coaxing you inside.

"Hush now baby, my good, sweet princess. How could I ever let you go so easily, huh? What kind of a man would I be to let his girl leave like that?-"

His hot, breathless words felt soothing as he whispered against your ears, his free hand atop, once more fixing the sweat-infused tangled strands away from your heated face. Leaving a few pecks of kisses against your dewy skin.

"Now promise to get some rest for me, angel. I need you strong for my little surprise."

****

Had you known what was to follow in the early months to come, the significance of Aegon's cryptic gesture following the sex that night. How his large, rough hand found it's way over to your lower abdomen, lightly caressing it in a circular motion, something he'd never normally done before, although not unquestionable at the time... Upon awaking early that morning, Aegon explained his surprise visit during the night, grieving over the sheer thought of losing you was enough to make the man cry once more, profusely apologising for the poisonous words he'd spat upon you. He refused to leave your side, and you knew you could not stop him. Nonetheless, he was well-intentioned, and you forgave him, allowing him to spend many more nights and days to come. Too preoccupied with the decision to be made, as Aegon kept pestering you for advice and discussion, you'd forgotten the whole notion of birth control, and only remembered a few days after. Regardless, the love making did not cease, as Aegon persuaded you that he wished to spend as many hours with you, "in case you decide to leave, I need to cherish every moment with you." Poetic of him, although, his agenda was far more conniving.

****

"Aeg- I'm, I'm pregnant."

The words were as sweet as honey to his sly ears: he did not lash out nor did he act upset nor surprised. In fact, unlike the momentous news you'd dropped before regarding the scholarship, this did not seem to phase him, not in the slightest.

You both rarely spoke of the thought of having children together, being both still quite young in age, and knowing that Aegon's youth was not one he favoured, regardless, he remained pleasantly optimistic upon hearing the news.

"Baby, this is good- This is wonderful."

"B-But what about the scholarship, what do I do?"

Cupping your tender, shocked face in his hands, his reassuring smile offered you some ease, though not enough. A child, an actual child. You hadn't really comprehended the notion of motherhood, nor did you completely go against it.

"Y/N, this-" One hand now stroking the same spot on your lower stomach, now a slight swell present, as he did those many nights ago. It all clicked now.

"This happened for a reason, you can't deny us this. Our own little baby, Y/N, we can have our own little family, sweetie. I promise I'll take care of us, all of us. You can't be stressing about some scholarship now..."

"But Aeg, I really did want it."

"So you-you want the scholarship, more than a family? More than making me happy or yourself? I thought you would be okay with this."

"I-Of course Aeg, I would love to have a family with you, only you now that I'm being honest. But I just always thought in due time, I-"

"Now's the time baby... This happened to us for a reason. Maybe the scholarship wasn't meant to be. Maybe something else will come along, they're always giving out scholarships, babe. If they offered it to you before, they'll offer it again. How could they deny you?"

His words sweet, and reaffirming. It was true, there were endless opportunities to apply for degrees and scholarships throughout the years. And it seemed Aegon, was extremely on board with the idea of becoming a father. Knowing how far he'd come from the rebellious boy he'd once been, stammering into the house late at night as Aemond and you remained studying endlessly, to the confident man he was now, was astounding. His dear mother, Alicent, even knew it, and thanked you deeply, for years she had been aimlessly trying to better her eldest.

"You are making all this possible for me, Y/N. Things I never dreamt to be or the person I'd become, you are the sole reason for my happiness. And now with this baby, I feel I could conquer the world."

[storiesbyrhi]

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: You are wide awake. 2340 words.

1986

Every day Eddie watched the jar. He watched how the moon water moved, alive and with a viscosity different from regular water. He watched the apple slices dry and the sprigs of lavender go stiff. He thought if he watched closely enough, he’d see the magic working, but he never caught a glimmer of craft.

When it was time, you let him plant the enchanted seed in the new coven neighbourhood. Your home would grow furthest out, close to the shade of the woods. A spell later, you were traveling back to Forest Hills to begin packing the trailer up.

It had been months since you’d moved in, therefore you had accumulated a lot of items.

“Do you need all of these?” Eddie asked, holding up one of five shoeboxes, all packed with feathers you had found. “And is this a normal amount of feathers to find? What is wrong with the birds in Hawkins?”

“Yes and no and a lot. I told you that if you are gonna help, you can’t question every single thing you pick up,”

“I’m doing no such thing,” he rebutted.

“Eddie, you told me to cull my jar collection,”

“I stand by it. There are too many. You can collect more,”

“I use them! Frequently! And I don’t just keep any jar. All the ones I have are, like, uniquely shaped or extra sturdy!” you whined. “Asking a witch to not collect jars is just…” You shook your head, not able to find the words to express the atrocity.

Eddie smiled at you softly. “Perhaps I am not the best helper,” he conceded. “Perhaps my time would be better spent doing something else,”

“Something else like use your vampire speed to clean the bathroom, or something else like turn into a bat and sleep?”

An hour later, Eddie was asleep in one of the boxes containing clothes, and you were wrapping more empty jars in bubble wrap.

…

A monument to witchcraft and love. That’s what Eddie thought when he saw the house. It had the glorious drama of Ev’s Victorian home and the softness of the other witches’ cottages. Expansive stained glass windows. Detailed architraves, the wood so dark it appeared black. Red brick. A single-story structure, but the dome of a conservatory was visible over the roof. It extended back into the woods, settling into the landscape as if it had always been there.

Eddie thought back to all the places he had lived in. The house his father’s rage felt the brunt of as much as he did. The farm he came into adulthood on. The colony caves. The cold and lonely hotel rooms. The trees above Forest Hills. He’d never had a home, apart from your arms, but there it was. Real and in front of him.

The sun was setting over the valley as Eddie stood before the house. You’d seen it early that day, doing your final checks before okaying the move. It was your magic the house grew from, so naturally you were less awestruck by it. The floorplan and aesthetic had been born in your mind. Still, it was a beautiful thing.

“Think it will do?” you asked Eddie, coming to stand beside him.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. “It’s…” How many different words were there for ‘home,’ he wondered. What language could fully communicate the depth of emotion?

“Enchanted seeds create homes, not houses,” you told him as you walked towards the front door. “Come and see.”

Eddie followed, almost expecting something to happen as he crossed the front door threshold. Once inside, Eddie clenched his jaw. It was more perfect than he could have anticipated.

The furniture was plush and comfortable, an eclectic mix of antique pieces and modern amenities. Bookshelves stood tall and waiting, ready for the library to arrive. Potted ivy trailed up and around curtain railings and along the walls.

“You never got to see my place in the Catskills. A lot of the furniture comes from there. The rest comes from the seed… It’s the kind of magic that makes me wish we could study it, you know? I want to know the science of it. How does it work?”

“It seems to me that part of the power of magic is in the unknowing,” Eddie replied, as wise as any of the Witches Who Came Before.

“It does appear to be the case,” you agreed.

For a while, you let Eddie wander aimlessly through the house.

He marvelled at the bath, huge and round, like a pond and definitely big enough for two. A huge wardrobe door that opened into a secret library. The conservatory full of thriving plants, flowers, herbs, and other living things Eddie did not have a word for. Every window a different shape but never square. Strange detailing like cat shaped doorknobs and pink quartz basins.

Eventually, Eddie sat on the end of the huge bed, its four posts grand and its linen crisp. He looked over at you and held out his hands.

“Come.”

You walked to him, taking his hands, and standing between his legs. Eddie looked up at you with those sparkling brown eyes, the adoration radiating from him.

“It’s an irrational idea, this fear I have that I’m dreaming. That I am still cursed, haunting this town until the end of time. But a vampire cannot dream. The cursed cannot dream. But still…”

Gently, you let go of Eddie’s hands and leaned into him, snaking your fingers into his hair as he pressed himself into your body, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You are wide awake. Alive… kind of… But definitely here. With me. In our home. Soon-to-be, with our friends. Our family. And just in time for Halloween.”

He purred a happy sound, nodding into you. “A witch’s favourite holiday?” he hazarded a guess.

“Hmm, not all of us. Most of the witches I’ve known tended to find more obscure holidays to worship at the altar of. New Years is a big one, too. Alas, I am but a cliché All Hallows witch,”

“With much respect, I see that,” Eddie said. You laughed, shrugged. He looked up at you again. “You did fall in love with a vampire, after all.”

…

Far away from the rest of the world, you and Eddie spent almost a week settling into the new house. Grimoires were catalogued into one of the three library rooms. Dandelion puffs were jarred and shelved. Every trinket found its home.

Eddie tested the rainbow light that flooded the rooms, discovering that in the magic there was safety. Sunlight that filtered through the windows did not burn him. He could be free and at ease.

You explained to Eddie the importance of representing the elements within the home. Earth in the plants, wooden carpentry, and the grounding crystals. Fire in the candles, ever-burning incense, and roaring fireplaces that only ever emitted the exact level of heat you wanted.  (“In summer, the flames burn cold,” you told Eddie and watched his smile grow.) Water in the mirrors, seashells, and small fountains found in the glasshouse room. Lastly, air in the wind chimes, feathers, and windows that could remain open without upsetting the temperature inside.

During the day, you began work on your garden, creating flower beds in the shape of pentagrams and sewing seeds. Borage for the butterflies and bees, primrose – I can’t live without you; angelica in case you need to break any future hexes; and yarrow, amaryllis, and polypodies.

One evening, just before sunset, you found Eddie rummaging through the apothecary pantry. As you entered the room, his manic smile told you he’d had an idea.

“What’s the story, morning glory?” you asked him, perching on a stool.

Eddie sunk to his knees and shrugged. “The fires are out… The Shire is no longer burning,”

“The Shire being… Hawkins?”

“Yes. And us. We’ve sailed to the Undying Lands,”

“You’re really making Tolkien your whole personality, huh?” you joked.

Eddie smiled up at you. “Until the next book… But what I’m saying is, now that we do not have a battle to prepare for. No conflict upon the horizon. What do we do with all of eternity?”

“Oh… My plan was to eat a lot of Meg’s cinnamon rolls… Try to get Steve Harrington to stop haunting Mel… Maybe work on a spell to make myself teeny tiny so I can ride around on you when you’re a bat…”

“Wait, seriously?”

You gave him a sly smile. “Maybe,”

“Well, I would love that… But, I was thinking a little more introspectively. Back to things we have thought about before. Like, why I am the way that I am… What that means…” He ran a finger along the leaves of the mimosa pudica plant beside him. The leaves felt his touch, curled inwards on themselves. It was one of Eddie’s favourites, the way it reacted to the world around it.

“Any new insights?” you asked softy.

“No… But… If I believe in you and in your magic and the way you make sense of the world… then I… I have to do something,”

“Do something?”

“We get back what we give, right?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “It’s not always obvious or direct. Or timely. Or even equally fair… But, yeah… There is definitely something like the concept of karma at play. And even if there isn’t, living as if there is can only be a good thing,”

“Then I must show more grace… and gratitude… Even if I am a monster, maybe especially because I am… I can give goodness too.”

Without thinking, you slid off the stool and joined Eddie on the floor. “You already do. You don’t owe the world anything.”

Eddie smiled, first a small soft thing, almost sad, but then it twisted into something else. Ear-to-ear and full of teeth. “I owe it more than one life,”

“But if we count all the lives you have saved. Both by killing what plagued this town, and by preventing deaths at the hands of bad people-”

“Morality cannot be simple addition and subtraction. There is no math that can quantify goodness or righteousness. You know that,” Eddie cut in. He watched your face, saw the pensiveness blossom across it. “Don’t worry, my little witch, my plan is not as life-or-death as this all makes it seem… I just want to do something good for your friends,”

“Your friends,” you corrected quickly. “They’ll be your friends too. Your family. You’re part of this coven.”

Eddie reached out to cup your face in his hands. “Your coven is yours. But I will take the friendship. I have years of loneliness to make up for,”

“Then what-”

He cut you off again, this time with a kiss. You brought your hands up to his shoulders, draping your arms around his neck. Eddie pulled you into his lap and you curled into him like the leaves of the mimosa.

His mouth kissed and sucked at your neck between sentence fragments. “I’m-” kiss “going-” kiss “to plant-” lick “them-” kiss “flowers.” His punctuation a kiss that wanted to be a bite.

You were hardly listening to his words. His words and ideas and introspective musings could all wait.

Eddie laid you down on the floor, the smell of the oak still new. You arched your back and pulled him down by his collar.

“Bed,” you mumbled into his mouth.

“Why build a house if we’re not gonna use it,” he answered.

One hand splayed next to your head to keep him up, the other tickling its way under the hem of your skirt and up your thigh.

“Besides,” Eddie said. “Doesn’t feel like you can wait.” He was sliding your underwear off, throwing them across the room. He rested a hand on you, sliding an index finger through your slickness.

“I can’t,” you agreed, breathy and impatient. “Now. I want you now.”

Eddie didn’t have to be asked twice. With his pants still hanging from an ankle, he was fast to set up and slow on approach. You felt the tip of him follow the path made by his hand, gathering wetness, and shooting electricity through your body.

You melted into jelly beneath him, bliss written all over your face. Eddie loved you like this, pliable and prone to tears of ecstasy.

He held himself back, keeping his pace slow and steady. His vampire muscles screamed to go faster, to rail you into next week, but he liked pulling you apart. Liked how you unconsciously uttered strings of words like ‘full’ and ‘please’ and ‘can’t.’ Liked when you clawed at him to come closer, bit down on his shoulder.

“I love you,” he told you, mouth on your ear, tongue licking. “So. Fucking. Much.”

There was a seemingly endless amount of ways Eddie had learned could make you cum. Talking to you was a favourite for you both.

“You’re so perfect, so perfect… You feel so perfect… You’re so warm and soft and I… I want to eat you whole…”

Your response was in the pooling tears and the nodding and the slack jaw. The begging, “Please. Please.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” It was all it took. Your orgasm exploded moments before his. Eddie’s thrusting getting harder and faster for the few seconds he took to follow you. He had to grind his teeth together to stop himself from ripping into your neck.

You kept your eyes closed, not aware of your surroundings. When you felt Eddie’s arms slide beneath you, you smiled and hummed. He carried you to your new bed, cleaning your skin with a warm washcloth before curling himself in behind you.

With the last of your day’s energy, you tangled your fingers through his, falling asleep happily.

As Eddie listened to your breathing find its mellow night rhythm, he saw a vision of you in his mind. Hands full of flowers and foliage. A coven of audience. Glorious and beaming. 

End Note: I made a small Pinterest board with inspo for their house - click here to view.

I hope you are all as well as any of us can be at a time like this. I hope this story continues to provide comfort, escapism, and fuel for daydreams. xo Rhi

Fic Taglist:  @paranoidmunson  @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03 @moviefreak1205 @pastel-pillows

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes  @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob  @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel @dashingdeb16 @cultish-corner

[luffyvace]

Her brook Idk if your req are closed so read this at your convenience 🙏

I wanted to ask for a male harpy reader strawhat hc or if not just hc with luffy, more specifically based off a bird with heavy feathers like a snowy owl cause I’d love to imagine that he complains about the heat a lot and wonders why he’s sweating more then usual but it’s just luffy hugging his legs cus he’s so soft

Love your work brook 🙏☺️

nope! Still open lovely anon<3

when I tell you I did NOT know what a harpy was 🤦‍♀️ I had to do research for accuracy 😅😋

but don’t worry it’s all good I’ll be more than happy to do your request!

I’m telling you right here right now luffy would most definitely be interested in a reader like this!! You know how many unique animals and such he tried to recruit into the crew that weren’t even human?? 😂💗

and thank you!! I’m so happy you enjoy my headcanons :) that makes me very happy!

Okay I’m just saying…….like chopper…if you look more animal than human….his first thought is to eat you

”you think he tastes good?” 😋

😭😭

IT JUST IS !!

moving on…♡

He thinks your wings are really cool

I mean a 6.5 ft wing span…….I do too!!

definitely wanted to measure them to check after he learned that

to which he got himself wrapped up in the measuring tape

Both you and luffy eat “strange” animals

such as sloths, monkeys, porcupines, squirrels, opossums, armadillo’s, anteaters and sometimes parrots…..other birds too 😋🍴

No animal is safe 😭

every island you go to the two of you immediately start scouting for whatever variety of yummy foods you could find

”I’ve got news for you two—normal people don’t eat those animals”

- Nami ♡

it taste absolutely delicious to you!!

honestly you probably got Luffy into eating them

which so funny because he already loves eating all types of weird things

which is probably why he was so easy to convince him to eat it too

like he would normally see a monkey and go oh cool a monkey!

but now….😈😈

not all the time tho

mostly when he’s hungry

……….so I guess I lied, yes all the time 🤦‍♀️🤷‍♀️

he saw you eating a armadillo with some sloth on the side and was like

oooo I gotta try that 🤪🤪

you might dislike for cats seeing as though a harpy’s predator is a jaguar

Least baby harpy’s anyway…

still! 😠

it’s good for you that the sunny is big once y’all upgrade from merry

it has plenty of rooms with shade for you, since a harpy’s natural habitat is rainforests

and they mainly stay in the shade anyway :)

franky probably had a room built that simulates a rainforest for your comfort 💕

like how he simulated the grass

once Luffy found out harpy’s are rare to find and you found the tori tori no mi - model: harpy- it was pretty much settled for you to join the crew :)

like he loves rare stuff!

it’s like treasure!

and you know darn well a pirate will fight for his treasure! 😼

you use your high pitch bird call to reunite the strawhats whenever you guys get separated (which is like- every time you go on an adventure 😀 besides the point-)

it’s loud enough and ranges far enough to the point where it’s more efficient than yelling

very much so comes in handy when your in danger too

also not to mention luffy is 100% gonna wanna fly on your back since you have wings

he probably won’t even ask

he’ll just rocket onto your back while your flying one day and refuse to get off cuz it’s fun

it likely ends with him spotting something cool, telling you to go over to it and getting you two into trouble

just be ready for the

😬😁 ✊😠 💥💥 😖😓

sequence again

flying also comes in handy when saving the strawhat’s BUTT!

You and Robin like 🦅🦅

LOLLL

but no fr you literally just swoop in and save the day 🦸

SUPERRRRRRR M/N!! *super man pose* better yet *franky pose*

Zoro will also appreciate it if you catch him while falling because I swear that man is always getting smacked around-

same with Nami 🧡

another time

Robin was stating facts about harpy’s when the strawhats first met you, and you were confirming

she mentioned that they typically lived 35-45 years (but she was talking about the ANIMAL.)

Luffy—of course—mistook this

“WHAAAT?! YOU MEAN TO TELL ME OUR NEW NAKAMA’S GONNA DIE SOON?!”

*Nami steps in*

”CALM DOWN IDIOT THATS NOT WHAT SHE SAID!!” 💥💥

“……..and besides..! M/n’s not an animal! He’s still a person you know?! Sheesh…..of course he’s gonna live the lifespan of a human”

Sanji will of course cook any animal of your request into your meal

if it’s more nutritious for you—then certainly he’ll do so!

he always prioritizes nutritional value in his meals, and thats different for everybody!

Luffy however….he will get annoyed with 😂

”GO AWAY STUPID *kicks across room* YOU DONT NEED THIS TO SURVIVE! THIS IS FOR M/N!”

your like one of the few men in his life Sanji doesn’t hate

okay I know that was more harpy facts related so now I’ll get into the scenario you mentioned 😅💗

Luffy uses you for warmth in the winter (all the strawhats do)

like chopper ;P

especially with your large and soft wings

”M/n…spread your wings out..we need your warmth..”

-Zoro

you’ve been complaining about the heat all day

You felt like you were ON FIRE.

like seriously?! What was gon on today?!

it’s not like birds need to shed……so why are you burning up!??

”mmmm…your so warm M/n!”

”LUFFY?!”

”shishishishishi!”

”no wonder I felt heavier than usual!! Get off me Luffy!”

”awwhhhh WHYYYYYY?”

”what?! Why?! Because I’m burning up! I already have all these feathers! You’ve got to get off of me Luffy!”

*whines* “but mmmmm/nnnnnn! Your so waaaarrrrm!”

*sighs and face palms* *attempts to pry him off*

“noooooo m/nnnnnn! I don’t waaaaanna get ooofff!!”

Luffy practically had you in a literal choke hold

he was not about to let you go.

and you know he’s got himself wrapped alllllll the way around 😂😂

once again thank you for the compliment my dear!!

Hopefully I did your hcs justice and that you enjoyed them! <3

[starlit-typewriter]

Genshin SAGAU, Creator of Teyvat, but not Humanity Part 4

So fun fact, I got Lyney on 12 pity, with no guaranteed after posting that previous section, so uh. He doesn’t need to be jealous of his siblings anymore I guess.

Warning for Spoilers up to 4.6

Masterlist | Prev Part | Next Part

~~~

Cold

It was very cold,

Freezing actually, numbingly cold and frigid. The icy hands of hypothermia creeping up your legs to encase your body into an icy coffi-

Ok, well maybe that’s a step too far.

But it’s cold.

Why is it cold?

Oh it’s snowing that’s why.

You look down at your feet.

Yep, there’s snow.

You wiggle your toes, and see the snow on top if them shift. 

You giggle to yourself at the amusing sight. You look up to see if there’s anyone else.

It’s empty, just a vast expanse of snow and wind.

Wait, no it’s not. There’s a building right over there, it’s massive, tall and imposing with gigantic walls and windows.

Oh there’s a person in one of those windows, hopefully you’re not trespassing.

You can’t really make out who it is, their black and white figure is blurred by the heavy snow and wind, but you try waving to them anyway.

If there’s so much snow and wind shouldn’t you be colder than this?

You blink,

“- gnoring me, I swear,”

You turn your head, and your friend is there.

“Hellooo, why do you keep spacing out?” she complains, taking a sip of her drink.

The two of you are at a cafe. 

She proposed that the two of you meet up now that the weather is nice and take a walk together and get some exercise. Somehow that exercise ended with the two of you sitting in a heavily air conditioned cafe.

You blink, weren’t you just cold.

Oh right, you look over to your side where the AC is blasting on full volume.

“Why don’t we move to different seats,” you offer, “The AC is giving me a headache.”

~~~

“Another successful day of adventuring completed!” Paimon cheered, spinning around as the Traveler handed in the receipts for all their completed commissions. 

The Traveler smiled at her enthusiasm as they accepted their reward from Katheryn, before heading over to where Paimon was floating.

“Hungry for dinner?” They asked, knowing the answer already.

“Of course!” Paimon exclaimed, “As if that’s even a question.” She paused, bobbing slightly as she stared the Traveler down. 

“Hmm, Paimon can’t help but feel you’re up to something, but she can’t figure out what.”

The Traveler takes their time, hemming and hawing as they stroll down the streets of Fountaine with Paimon floating closely behind, riling her up with frustration.

“Grrr, c’mon just tell Paimon, or I’m gonna burst,”

The Traveler laughed at their companion’s frustrated face, before turning to face them with a cheeky smile on their face. “Well, I’ve got a bit more energy than usual, so why don’t you choose a restaurant for us to visit,” they proposed cheekily.

Paimon’s eyes opened wide with anticipation, “really!” She exclaimed, shooting up with anticipation, “you better not be messing with Paimon,” she threatened, eyes sparking.

“Nope,” the Traveler drawled, as they made their way over to the nearby waypoint. They placed their hand on it meaningfully, and extended the other to Paimon. “Where are we going tonight?”

Paimon squealed with happiness, shooting into the Traveler’s arms. “ Komore Teahouse please,” she begged, “We haven’t had hotpot in so long,”

“As you wish,” and in a burst of energy the two disappeared from the streets of Fountaine.

The smell of sweet Sakura blossoms greeted Paimon's nose as the two appeared in Inazuma. 

Thankfully there weren’t too many gawking standerbys, many of them having gotten used to the Traveler's unique ability of traveling through waypoints.

She quickly darted out from their arms and turned to check on them. While it may look effortless, she knew that teleporting took a lot of energy out of the Traveler, and as their traveling companion it’s her responsibility to make sure that they don’t overwork themselves. 

Their breathing was fine, but their head rested on the waypoint, eyes closed. Paimon gave them a moment to collect themselves, hovering anxiously. Within a few seconds their eyelids opened, sending Paimon a reassuring smile.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” Paimon asked, feelings slightly guilty at how enthusiastic she was at coming to visit Inazuma, even though she knew how much energy it would take.

“Of course, I did offer after all,” the Traveler replied easily.

The two made their way to Komore teahouse, Paimon made sure to float a bit slower than usual, just in case the Traveler was still tired.

She’s sure they noticed, since they bumped her playfully before whispering “race you,” into her ear and darted off. 

“HEY NO FAIR,”

The two adventurers raced each other down the streets of Inazuma before skidding to a stop outside Komore Teahouse, the Traveler slapping their hand on the sign triumphantly as Paimon panted behind them.

“No, huff huff, fair,” Paimon complained, pointing their finger at the Traveler accusatorially. 

Before the Traveler could gloat about their victory, a familiar voice interrupted the duo.

“Woah woah what happened here,”

“Thoma!” Paimon exclaimed, perking back up. 

The Traveler exchanged warm greetings with the Kamisato housekeeper, as the three headed into the teahouse to catch up.

“-lace flooded and then!” Paimon paused mid story, mouth hanging open.

“And then what?” Thoma asked eagerly engrossed in the story.

The expectant silence was interrupted by a loud stomach gurgle.

There was a moment before all three of them burst into laughter.

“I think Paimon got so engrossed in story telling that we forgot to order food,” the Traveler commented between giggles.

“Hey!”

Thoma took the initiative to stand up and order food for the group. The Traveler tried to get up as well, but was ushered back into their seat. 

“C’mon, it’s already bad enough manners that I made guests wait this long without food, at least let me order it for you,” Thoma pleaded playfully, 

 “I think we’re more friends than guests at this point, ” Paimon chimed in, floating up from her seat.

“You know that’s not what I mean. C’mon, you guys save me some face here.”

After some light heckling and teasing, Thoma darted off to grab some dinner for them.

The Traveler leaned forward in their seat, face still a little pale. 

Paimon floated beside them anxiously. “Are you feeling ok?” She asked quietly, the Traveler doesn’t usually take this long to recover from a teleport trip.

The Traveler hummed lightly in agreement, now fully leaning on the table, “just a bit drowsy.”

Paimon bit her lip nervously, she floated around the Traveler’s head anxiously.

It seemed as if her hovering was annoying them since they soon tilted their head up to gaze at her with slight annoyance. “I’m okay, Paimon, honest.”

Paimon didn’t believe them.

“Are you sure, because -”

“I’m fine,” they cut her off, “I’m more worried about you.”

Paimon blinked, “Me?”

“Do you think I haven’t noticed how much hovering and how anxious you’ve been? I just wanted to- ” they cut themselves off in frustration.

Paimon sagged a little, she didn’t like making the Traveler worry about them.

The Traveler sighed, “If this is about the Kn-”

“No,” Paimon interrupted, “It’s not.”

A disbelieving face was her only answer.

She bit her lip. Maybe she wasn’t as good of an actor as she thought, or it was just the Traveler being able to see through her.

She didn't really want to explain, but considering that they were willing to push themselves in order to try to cheer her up, well. Paimon felt guilty for keeping it from them.

“It’s just not fair!” She burst out, a scowl painting itself on her normally cheerful face. 

“Her being blessed you mean?” The Traveler confirmed, sitting up properly to face Paimon.

“I don’t trust her,” Paimon admitted, her hands twisting together. “She’s so scary and we never know what she’s going to do next, or who she’s going to hurt. Not to mention she’s Fatui Harbinger!”

“So are Childe and the Wanderer,” 

“That’s different and you know it! Wanderer’s working for Nahida now and Childe might be a Harbinger but he won’t hurt us, you can beat him up any day!”

The Traveler sighed, “this is because I lost isn’t it.”

“That’s -” Paimon couldn’t refute that.

The two fell into a bit of an uneasy silence. 

“I’m not the strongest person in Teyvat Paimon. I never have been,” they explained gently.

“I know,” Paimon mumbled, “I just, don’t like the fact that she’s now going to get stronger because of us.”

“You don’t know that- ”

“Yes I do!” She shot back, “So many people we meet just get inexplicably stronger and they all think it’s thanks to us but we haven’t done anything and it’s been fine so far because they’ve all been our friends and have been really nice to us but-”

She gets cut off when the Traveler pulls her into a hug. 

“I’m sorry,” they apologized, “I didn’t know you’ve been struggling with this.”

Paimon relaxed in their hold, “It never really bothered me until now,”

“Me neither,” they admitted, leaning into their hug more.

“Food her-” Thoma paused in the doorway at the sight of the two hugging. “Uh, did I barge in at a bad moment, because I can- ”

“It’s fine,” Paimon exclaimed, flying out of the hug. “We were just uh-”

She looked over to the Traveler for an excuse, but they just shook their head and shrugged.

“Practicing what we’d do if there was an earthquake,” she finished lamely.

Thoma blinked at that admittedly pretty bad excuse, but thankfully knew not to push.

“Alrighty then, well who’s ready for- ”

“HOTPOT,” Paimon’s eyes widened to the size of Dinner plates as the smell of the tray in Thoma’s hands finally reached her nose.

The rest of the meal proceeded merrily as Paimon got to fill her stomach, Thoma got caught up with all their recent adventures, and the Traveler got to bask in good company.

They were pretty quiet, as is the norm, since they prefer to let Paimons speak for them.

Until, well.

“Thoma, what did it feel like when you got blessed.”

The other two fall into silence at the Traveler’s question. Thoma swiveled his head to see the Traveler staring at him with an uncharacteristically serious look. 

Their golden eyes bored into his face, it was easy to forget when they were chatting over a meal or talking walks together, but the Traveler was famous for more than just their adventures. 

Despite their young appearance, they’d always held themselves with an innate grace and authority Thoma had rarely ever seen. A kind of aura that made you wonder whether they were secretly an ancient powerful Yokai in disguise. 

“Uh, well,” Thoma stammered.Even though he could confidently say they were friends, and that they would never lay a hand on him, the fact that the Traveler was so much more powerful than him was hard to ignore at this very moment. “Haven’t you gone through it yourself?”

The Traveler shakes their head, “I don’t remember being blessed,” they responded shortly.

“Well,” Thome scratched his head, mulling over his words, “I can’t really compare it to getting a vision-” he trailed off, deep in thought.

He looked around before his gaze settled on their empty hotpot bowl. 

“I think I'd compare it to drinking a warm bowl of soup on a freezing cold day.” 

The Traveler quirks a brow, surprised.

“I thought it’d be more dramatic than that,” Paimon added, looking slightly disheartened as well.

“Sorry,” Thoma scratched his head, slightly embarrassed. “That’s just the best way I could think of to describe it.” 

He paused, before angling himself towards the pair to better explain his train of thought, “You know there are some days where it all feels a little overwhelming and exhausting,”

The two nodded in response.

“Think of it like that, its been a super long day, the weather’s a mess, you’re cold and tired and you just want to crawl to bed.” he gestured, trying to convey what a busy day would look like. 

“Then you go inside, and there’s this warm bowl of soup waiting just for you, it’s the perfect temperature so you don’t don’t need to worry about burning you mouth and it just warms you from the inside out and give you more energy to keep going.”

By the end of his story the two were nodding in unison. 

“Does that make sense to you,” he finishes weakly.

“Better,” the Traveler commented, looking over at Paimon who was nodding enthusiastically. 

“Sorry, it’s just that no one’s ever really asked me about that before.” He laughs sheepishly. Internally grateful that the Traveler’s gaze had directed itself elsewhere.

“Really?” Paimon exclaimed, “I’d have thought um-” she trailed off awkwardly.

Thoma knew where they were going, “Lord and Lady Kamisato never mentioned such things to me, they know about my blessing of course, but they never tried to pry into the specifics.”

“Ahh, gotcha,” 

The table lapses into an awkward silence.

“Is there a particular reason why?” Thoma asks eventually.

The two look at each other for a bit before turning back to him.

“Just a bit of investigating,” the Traveler responds vaguely. “It just seems weird to us that this has been happening for years now and now one is really sure why.”

“Well, most of us assumed that you were the one doing the blessing,” he responded, stacking some of the empty plates together. 

“WHAT!” Paimon exclaimed, flying backwards in shock.

“You didn’t know?” Thoma looked surprised.

The Traveler shook their head alongside Paimon’s vehement denial.

“Oh, well that’s a bit awkward,” he laughs, “But don’t worry, we soon realized that you had no control over it,”

“Good,” Paimon nodded, “The last thing we need is people thinking we’re intentionally withholding a blessing from them, or worse people trying to get close to us for the blessing.” She shuddered.

The Traveler nodded in agreement, yawning slightly.

Thoma, perceptive as always, offered to get them a room at the Kamisato estate, only to be met with polite refusal.

“Thanks for the offer Thoma, but we’re probably gonna head out first thing tomorrow morning,” Paimon said, “Plus it’s not like we’re camping outside with our teapot and all,”

“That’s true,” Thoma noted, “then pass on my regards to you Teapot butler for me.”

“Will do, and pass on ours to Ayaka and Ayato.” The Traveler responded kindly.

~~~ 

Later that night, Paimon and the Traveler were getting ready to sleep.

“Ooof, Paimon is stuffed,” she stretched, floating down towards the bed.

“Satisfying meal?” the Traveler commented wryly, tucking their legs under their chin from where they were seated on their bed.

“Mmhmm,” Paimon agreed, curling up under the blankets. 

“Thank you,” she said, after a short pause.

She didn’t need to elaborate, the two had traveled together for far too long for that. Despite how it may look to outsiders, and how the Traveler might joke about her being emergency food, she knew how much the Traveler treasured their relationship and vice versa.

She remembered the darker days at the beginning of their partnership, when the Traveler would wake up in the middle of the night screaming for their sibling, or days when they could barely talk, overstimulated by the world around them. Whilst Paimon was no expert doctor, she knew how to bring the traveler out of their shell and what they were comfortable with.

She knew that the Traveler still had a difficult time meeting new people, and that even though that had a near total mastery of Teyvat’s language, its not one that they enjoyed using.

There were still bad days of course, and bad nights, but Paimon knew how to deal with them better now.

A soft snore interrupted her train of thought.

She looked over to see the Traveler comfortably asleep.

Yeah, things are good the way they are.

She curled up in her own blankets and let darkness overtake her.

~~~

Poke,

Poke, Poke

A soft giggle.

Paimon scrunched her nose and turned to her other side to avoid the poking, to no avail.

The soft pokes to her squishy cheeks continued.

Paimon became fed up before long and shot out of bed, ready to yell at the Traveler for waking her up like that, only to be faced with, not the Traveler.

A stranger stood in front of her with a confused look on their face.

“You weren’t supposed to wake up,” they muttered in confusion.

Paimon stared at them for a brief second before bursting into a scream.

~~~

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~~~

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[writingonleaves]

were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? (did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?) - jeremy swayman

pairing: jeremy swayman x original female character

warnings: swearing, pretty angsty. hopeful ish ending because i can't do sad endings, very personal but i think many can relate in their own way, cliche ish, barely proofread

inspired by + title: "the smallest man who ever lived" by taylor swift

word count: 5.6k

author's note: i'd argue almost every piece any author writes is personal, because it has their life interspersed through the words. but this one really is, because a majority of this is the exact same words i wrote years ago after a break-up. heard the bridge to this song and immediately knew i had to write something inspired by it. also trying a new format of sorts (maybe a bit meta??), so i hope you enjoy and lmk what you think!!

~*~*~

When Noelle Betsko walked away from Jeremy Swayman, holding back tears until the call dropped, she knew it was going to be a tough time for the foreseeable future. 

It didn’t matter that the pandemic had forced them apart. She knew she would still feel him for months to come.

She did the only thing she knows how to do when trying to deal with things. The one thing she always resorts to as an aspiring novelist. Sometimes on her laptop when the words were spilling out too quickly for her brain to catch up, tears littering the keyboard. Usually in her old beat-up journal, scribbling in the cursive that Jeremy claimed he always loved (“It makes your handwriting unique”) with the pens he had gifted her just a few months prior. 

At the age of 21, Noelle got her heart broken for the first time. At the age of 26, she’s about to publish her first poetry collection of sorts, all of the poems modeled after journal entries written throughout her life. So not really poetry, though her mother would say otherwise. 

She swallows as she thumbs through the middle part of the first known and binded copy of “miscellaneous.” There are only eight entries in the whole collection that are taken verbatim from her past writing. These are the eight.

May 13, 2020 (three days post-breakup, crying in my childhood bedroom)

I don’t even recognize who I was and who you were in those writings before these pages filled with love and hope and happiness. I can’t even summon up those feelings anymore that I knew existed at one point. Those feelings of complete bliss and love for someone so deep you can’t explain it. 

I’m mad at myself for not being able to conjure those feelings, because at one point, I did love you. How could something that was part of my daily life for over two years just disappear so quickly? 

But now, I’m not mad at myself. I’m mad, but I don’t know where to direct that anger to. I feel a bit empty sometimes, but then frustrated the next. Sometimes I get sad, but not so much compared to the other feelings. I spent enough time being sad during our relationship.

When we broke up, on an annoyingly beautiful Tuesday in May — over the damn phone, mind you, which whatever, it’s COVID. Fine — You told me you felt like you had been putting more effort into us. 

At the time, I didn’t react, but I’ve been thinking about how angry that statement made me. Makes me, actually. I was always very open with how much I gave to that relationship. How much it meant to me. How much it affected me. But I understand that with some people, sharing everything too much equates to things not meaning anything anymore. But you out of all people should’ve known that I mean everything I say.

I felt like I gave so much. I know I gave so much. When I told you I loved you, I always meant it. Every single time. When I told you I missed you, I always meant it. I wished you were right next to me at that moment. I mentally gave so much, because to me, I wanted to. You were always on my mind, always high up on my list of priorities. I never took us for granted.

I’ve been questioning if that was the same for you. Did you start becoming complacent?

The second thing you said that day that hasn’t left my head is that you knew me pretty well. And initially, I remember not thinking much of it. So I don’t doubt that; you always knew right when I was about to cry, even over the phone. You often knew when I was mad or upset, but when I look back now, you never pushed. Which is a good thing, to an extent. But it was a bad thing sometimes too. I knew you often wanted to give me space, but sometimes I didn’t want space. I wanted you to push. To try to understand. Maybe that’s unfair of me; it probably is. I should just say I want to talk about it more, right? 

But if you genuinely knew me, you would’ve known.

After two years, seven months and 12 days,  I still feel like I didn’t know you. Did I ever know you at all?

When people talked shit about you, I always defended you. And I still would defend you now. But lately, I've questioned what I’m even defending. All those good qualities that I thought you had, were they even real? Of course, I know some of them were, to a certain extent. But as I look back on us, there’s a lot of doubt about whether I even knew the person I called my boyfriend for so long. I know there was a point where you cared about me, but I can’t remember when. 

I often felt like I was letting you know so much about my life, but you didn’t do the same. I get that sometimes a person just wants to forget about the bad and focus on the good with a person you like for awhile. I get that. But once that was happening every damn time? That should’ve been a red flag. 

June 7, 2020 (twenty eight days post break-up, outside my childhood room on the deck) 

I don’t understand how you can give so much to something or someone and have it not be recognized or appreciated or enough. If I wasn’t enough for you, how will I be enough for anyone?

I hope one day you’ll truly understand how much this hurt. Not just the breakup, but feeling like I was always being pulled in a direction I didn’t always want to be pulled in. Feeling I was stuck between a rock and a hard place and never ever being able to win. I hate that I settled so much in the last year. Because I should’ve demanded more, even though deep down I knew you were never going to be able to give it to me.

I think back to our past daily texts, and I just don’t get it. At one point, we both meant the things we said to each other. 

Yet we still hurt each other. 

This fucking hurts.

You’ve hurt me so much, but most of it wasn’t intentional, which I think is somewhat even worse. Because I’m not totally mad at you for causing the pain. You never did anything outright to cause me pain, but I still feel like you did. 

Unintentional pain almost stings more than intentional. 

When I asked you out that night after we were both on an emotional high, I took a chance. For once in my life, I took the leap, knowing that I could get humiliated or hurt or just straight up shot down. 

Where did it all go wrong? Or, more realistically, how did we think that we could go through the wrong when it was there at the start?

I’m trying not to blame myself too much. Trying not to tell myself that I should’ve known better. 

All those times, especially at the start, when I would ask you if you genuinely liked me, you always thought I was just trying to be annoying. But you never understood that I genuinely thought that way. My self confidence from the start was lacking, and you didn’t try to understand that, because I come across to everyone as confident and self-assured. 

It hurt, when you would brush things off like that. I felt like you didn’t care.

And then, it got to the point where I stopped asking that question. Part of that is because I did become more confident and you did show that you cared, and part of that was because I knew it would piss you off.

The amount of things I was scared to talk about with you because I knew it would piss you off? I don’t wish that feeling on anybody.

I shouldn’t have been scared. I shouldn’t have been uncomfortable. But I was. And if you did notice like sometimes you claimed to, why didn’t you make it more comfortable for me? Was that too much to ask for? 

So larger than life that at the end, you faded into just the smallest man who ever lived. Fuck you.

Was it too much to ask for when I just wanted to know why you were upset? You didn’t have to ever tell me the full story (lord knows there were times I didn’t), but was it too much to ask for something? You told me once that I’m the person you’ve told the most to. How? You barely told me anything. And when I wanted to talk to you, whether it was about growing up in Alaska or why you were in a bad mood last night, you always brushed it off. Always. 

So I don’t feel so bad about feeling like I gave more effort. I gave so much of myself to you. If you really cared about me like you claimed you did, why couldn’t you show even just 1% of that care back? Or just meet me in the middle?

I could’ve tried harder to meet you in the middle, I’ll admit that. But you didn’t even give me a map or a clue how to. 

I felt so fucking left in the dark. I felt left in the dark about my own fucking relationship, something that I should be completely sure about. If you really love someone and care about them, how can you leave them in the dark? How could you not even see that I was struggling to find a flashlight?

You did care about me. I know that. To some extent and at some point in time, you did care about me. But caring about someone and their well-being isn’t always enough.

Why couldn’t you have worked with me? When I was extending my hand out, why didn’t you reach for it? How can someone just be so blind? I mean, I’m practically always spelling it out for you. 

Maybe I am being selfish. But fuck, I just wanted to be happy. At some point, you made me happy. When did I start making you feel like I wasn’t enough? Why wasn’t I enough for you?

It’s useless, in a way, to keep going about this. Because I know I deserve better. And we’ll both find people who are better for us. We just couldn’t be that person to each other.

I fucking loved you.

I wish it ended differently.

July 8, 2020 (fifty nine days post-breakup, in front of the lake)

I really really fucking miss you. 

I do. 

I miss being able to text you that i love you and not necessarily expecting a response until the next morning. I miss knowing that as soon as you wake up, you’ll text me back and assure me that yeah, you love me too. 

I’m left feeling bittersweet as I look back on memories that are just splashes and not definite strokes on the canvas that used to be us.

I miss having you as a friend. 

I’ve been having more urges lately to want to text you. And it isn’t even anything important. Just moments I experience throughout the day.

Do you get the urge to do the same?

July 19, 2020 (seventy days post-breakup, still in the same damn house)

It’s hard. It really is. And it kinda just hits you at random parts of the day. Sometimes I wake up from a dream that you were in and have to remind myself that it didn’t happen. 

Sometimes it physically aches when I realize that you won’t ever help me put on my jacket again, or complain that my hair is in your face when we’re lying on the couch watching Brooklyn Nine Nine, or groan when I drag you up to dance with me (which you never improved on, no matter how many times I tried to teach you basic rhythm). I can’t view our song the same way anymore, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to. 

The other day, I read some simple thing on Twitter. I don’t even remember what it was, but I do remember that for a split second, I could see your smile in my mind. But it wasn’t just any smile. It was the smile you gave me when you took me ice skating that first time. I remember asking you what you were smiling at, and you said that you just were taking in this moment. I don’t know if you took a mental picture that day, but I know I did. That day seems so long ago now. 

In almost anything I do, you somehow pop into my mind or into the conversation. And it’s not even in a harmful way either. It’s because you were part of my life for so long. I see a dog on the street, and it reminds me of how you always stopped to pet every single one we’s see I write something in my messy handwriting, and I remember how you always used to complain that you couldn’t read the notes I’d occasionally leave around your place when you went away. I went to the doctor’s the other day, and they said I was 5 feet and 3 inches, which is just definitely not true, and I almost reached for my phone to text you, because you would’ve cackled and insisted that no, I’m 5 feet 2 inches and it wouldn’t even matter because I’ll always be shorter than you. It’s simple and minute things that make me miss you that much more.

I still can’t listen to some songs the same way anymore, but I can at least listen to them now, which is a feat in itself. I was unpacking from college and found the teddy bear you sent me the first extended time we had to be apart and had to immediately put that out of my sight. From those boxes also came photos that I had decorated my dorm room with, and to be honest, I’m glad now that I let you keep our best one. I deal with all my emotions, besides writing, by making Spotify playlists, and I made a new one earlier this week. I think it’s helping. It’s a slow process, this whole moving on thing, but it’s one that I’m trying to be grateful for, because like most things in life, you just don’t truly know until you go through it.

Sometimes, I find myself wondering how you are and how you’re healing. But, even though we’ve both changed since the day we met, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you’re incredibly strong and stubborn. I hope that you’re finding some growth in this process too. 

October 17, 2020 (one hundred fifty seven days post-break up, apartment in orono)

It’s been almost 5 months, and you still cross my mind everyday. 

Why wasn’t I enough for you? Why didn’t you fucking tell me what you were thinking? Why was I the one who had to approach you just because I was just so done with the silent treatment?

But I’m not mad at you. Not anymore. The mad phase passed ages ago. 

Closure is a fake word. Even a breakup as mutual and smooth as ours was still left me with so many questions that will probably never be answered. 

Any breakup fucks you up to some extent. I knew it was going to mess me up even back when we were together. But not like this. Never like this. 

But like anything in life, I guess you can never really prepare for what you think you might feel, because most of the time, you discover a whole new side of you that you never thought existed. 

I don’t miss you. I don’t. I don’t feel that love in any way anymore. 

But I did once.

You did too, right?

November 15, 2020 (one hundred eighty six days post break-up, fogler library)

I hate Halloween. 

Though, it did bring me to you three years ago. I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you right then and there. 

Three years later, you texted me on Halloween, five months after our breakup. The universe really, really wanted to fuck with me. 

It was a tough night for you. I knew that. Because I know how you are after losing a game you should’ve won. But that didn’t mean that I owed you anything and had to respond. 

We agreed on no contact if we ever wanted to stay friends. Clearly, friends is out of the picture now, but come on. A vulnerable text after a bad night because you know I would feel bad for you?

Fuck, you know how much I would hate that. You had to have known. 

Just because we’re not dating anymore doesn’t mean that everything about you just disappears. I still know your tendencies. I still know exactly how my head burrows into your chest during a hug. I still know the actions I used to do that would be followed by you attacking me with a hug. I still could point you out in a crowd. 

I looked for you in every crowd for years. 

That stuff doesn’t just go away, no matter how much I want it to. But fuck. Fuck. Why did you text me? 

I don’t regret how I handled it. I probably would’ve responded months ago. But just like you, I’ve grown these last couple of months. 

It was comforting, for a split second, to know that maybe, just maybe, these past couple of months have been hard for you too. It makes me feel human. It makes me feel like I’m not crazy.

I’m glad you texted me. You gave me another level of closure I hadn’t known that I needed until then. 

But fuck, dude. You know me better than that. You should know me better than that. 

I hate Halloween.

November 26, 2020 (one hundred ninety seven days, at the coffee shop i brought you to when you came home with me two years ago)

I don’t regret loving you, but I hate you for what you did to me. 

Or maybe not. 

I hate knowing that even though we haven’t been in a relationship in a bit, it feels like sometimes, you’re on my mind the exact same amount when we were dating. I hate knowing that I gave so much of myself and my love to you, and it always felt unrecognized. 

Fuck, will it ever stop hurting? Will I ever be able to have to stop myself from thinking about you? Will it ever stop?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Happy birthday. I hope you enjoy it.

June 12, 2021 (three hundred ninety five days post-break up, in boston, visiting a friend)

Tonight, when a friend asked me about you and how I felt about how we ended, I was able to articulate my thoughts clearly. I’m really proud of myself for getting to a point where I can take the lessons I learned the few months after we broke up and acknowledge them in a succinct way without breaking down into tears. Just watery eyes and the occasional voice crack 

I’m also proud that I can say that when we were dating, I lost a bit of myself. For months, it was really hard to admit out loud.

I’m proud of how far I’ve come. Sometimes, I wish I could call or text you about it, because I think you’d be proud too. And I know I’d be proud of you. I am, to be honest. I do break resolve once in awhile and check on you through various avenues.

I still haven’t seen you in person since the last time COVID made us say goodbye. Maybe I never will again. But day by day, I’m starting to accept that and be okay with it. I’m accepting that memories that used to be so painted in my mind are blurry or almost completely erased now. But that’s okay. Honestly, it’s probably for the best. 

I wonder, when you think about it, if you think about different moments that I do. That’s the thing when something ends. You have to be okay with letting go of those moments and realizing that just because you forget them, doesn’t mean they weren’t important. 

I don’t think I miss you. I hesitate in saying that. Because I’ve moved on and handled the aftermath of it better than I think both of us ever thought I could. When you hung up the phone for the last time, I proved to myself again that I’m stronger than I give myself credit for. I think we all are. But we don’t realize it until we’re thrown into a situation that we think we’ll never be able to overcome. 

But we do. Whether it’s because we’re forced to because there’s no other option, it doesn’t matter. Because we get through. We move on. 

I hope you're moving on. 

And then it goes into other topics, graduating during a pandemic specifically and losing what’s supposed to be your last year of no responsibilities before adulthood. There are other poems in here that reference a past relationship, but not as much as these eight. 

If there’s one thing that Noelle did change, it was taking out the details. Jeremy may have hurt her, but he doesn’t deserve someone possibly making a connection between these poems and their shared background. She’s not a famous author by any means, but she wanted to be careful.

Not that she makes that part of her life publicly known. People don’t need to know that her brother was Jeremy’s captain for two years at Maine and that’s how they met. 

Noelle grew up going to rinks. She hasn’t gone to one since they broke up. 

But also, what the fuck? It’s been five years since she’s dated the guy. She really is over it by now, even if his rise to stardom in the Bruins flittering on her social media feeds still sometimes has her swallowing a bit before she can continue with her day. 

Brooklyn is far enough from Boston. But sometimes it feels like it’s right outside her door. 

She’s proud of her first published work. She really is. People believed in her and after numerous notes swapped back and forth with her editor, she did it. She always knew she wanted to work in publishing. She never knew she herself would publish anything.

And here she is now, two weeks after the book release, in Boston, about to do a q&a and a signing. Apparently, “miscellaneous” has been on top of numerous lists and it’s flying off the shelves. Noelle can’t really believe it and tries not to think about it too much, trusting her agent with all of that. 

She’s happy to talk about her work and process though. That she can handle. And she’s grateful for all the love.

After a signing at a local bookstore, she decides to walk the 20 minutes home in the Boston fall. It’s a bit brisk, but she doesn’t mind and she just wanders, belly filled with delicious sushi she inhaled for dinner with an old friend.

Of course it happens the one time during her walk when she doesn’t avoid eye contact with someone. The song playing in her earbuds fade out of her focus and she almost stumbles. 

Jeremy’s eyes were always Noelle’s favorite thing about him. She thought she would’ve forgotten what they looked like by now. But clearly she hasn’t. 

Her eyes quickly cast to the person next to him. It’s definitely a girl. They’re a bit too far away for Noelle to pick out details. But it’s enough. He’s walking on the side closest to the street. It’s a Friday Night in a bustling part of the city. 

It hurts. She wishes it didn’t.

Even from far away, she sees his eyes blink in recognition. Noelle puts her head back down and walks faster. 

(She cries in the shower when she gets back to the hotel. She had debated feeling super sorry for herself and going to the hotel bar but refrained)

She has a few free days in Boston before flying back to New York. When she wakes up the next morning, she debates on going home early. But no, she won’t let a three second glance at someone ruin her time here. She used to occasionally come here during her college days. She loves this city. 

The city may be Jeremy’s, but she can make space for herself here too. 

She takes her time at a cafe, people watching and eating some breakfast. As she takes her coffee to-go, she looks out the window at the bookstore she was in the night before for the signing. She almost drops her coffee. 

Jeremy walks into the book store. 

Now, Noelle is debating her options. What she should do is continue with her day and walk in the opposite direction. But she’s always been too nosy for her own good. And maybe a bit self destructive. She decides to leave the cafe and cross the street immediately, so impatient to where she’s almost tapping her foot as the pedestrian signal stays red. 

As a writer, she’s no stranger to movie moments. The scenes written in books or movies where the timing is too accurate to be real. The situation too good to be true. But after a car speeds through an orange and she can finally walk, she stops in her tracks instead, feet glued down to the sidewalk.

Because Jeremy is right in front of her on the other side of the street. Her book in his hand. And he’s looking right at her. 

The first feeling she can recognize in herself is anger. Anger at the way their relationship panned out. Anger at the way they ended. Anger at the radio silence the years following. Anger at him for everything. Angry at herself for everything. 

The second feeling is, weirdly, shame, which she’s embarrassed by. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. But she feels it anyways. 

The third, and perhaps the most prominent, is emptiness. Five fucking years later, and she’s brought back to the emptiness she felt immediately after they broke up. The emptiness that the person you loved isn’t yours anymore — who maybe wasn’t ever yours to begin with. 

Before she can run, he’s already crossed the street to her. He looks naturally different as someone who you haven’t seen in five years would. But he also heartbreakingly looks the same. 

“We should get out of people’s way,” Noelle manages to chokes out. 

Jeremy laughs a bit. Her heart lurches. “Yeah.” He starts walking and she follows him wordlessly. This is his city after all. 

He leads them to a bench under a tree with beautiful fall foliage. She puts at least a foot between them as they both sit down, staring out at the people passing. She can’t take the silence. 

“I see you bought my book.”

“I did,” he replies evenly. “Congratulations. I always knew you would do it.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. Maybe if she squeezes hard enough she’ll forget when she originally pitched Jeremy the bare bones idea of the exact same book that’s currently in his hand. “Thank you. Congratulations to you too. On everything.”

“You’ve been watching?”

She shakes her head. “No. But, you know Seth and…yeah. It comes up during family calls sometimes.”

“Why didn’t you say hi last night?”

She looks pointedly at a couple walking their dog. “You seemed busy.”

“She wasn’t-that-it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh. Because that makes me feel so much better,” she spits out, before taking a deep breath. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. We broke up ages ago.”

“I’m sorry,” she gives him a look and is slightly proud of how he seems to shrink into himself a bit. “I-I know it’s five years too late. I know I didn’t handle it as well as I should’ve. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

The thing is, Noelle always thought that maybe hearing an apology someday would make her feel better. But now that’s heard it, she’s not sure she does. 

She swallows. “I appreciate that.”

“I’ve already read it, you know.”

“Read what?”

Jeremy runs a hand through his hair. “Your book. One of my teammate’s girlfriend recommended it and I asked to borrow it. It’s fantastic,” He looks down at the book in his hand. It’s like the cover is taunting her. “I wanted my own copy.”

“Oh.” 

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me off the hook with the poems I know were about me,” he scoffs, shaking his head at himself. “You could’ve written way worse.”

She can’t help but let out a chuckle. “I thought I was pretty mean.”

“Your definition of ‘pretty mean’ is tame compared to a lot of people,” he says, mindlessly flipping through the pages of the book. “You were always the kindest person, even when you shouldn’t have been..” 

He puts his hand out in her direction, the hand with the book in it. She furrows her eyebrows. “What-”

“Could I get a signed copy?”

“Jeremy. What do you want from me?”

He sighs, taking his hand back. “A chance to apologize?”

“You’ve already done that.”

“Not in the way I want to and what you deserve.”

She lets out a sigh, turning to face him fully. “I don’t know if that would be worth my time or yours. I know the book just came out, but that was five years ago. I’m over it. Forgive and forget, right?”

“But do you?” Jeremy counters back. “Clearly, you don’t forget, which I deserve. But forgive?” 

“We’re just going in circles now.”

“No we’re not,” he says firmly. “You’re just shutting me down because you don’t want to talk about it. I’ve had five years to prepare what I would say to you if I saw you again. You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“Of course I have,” Noelle tips her head back. “But also, what’s the point?”

“The point, is that I still love you.”

“Fuck you,” she says in a strained voice. “You can’t just-you can’t just throw that shit out there. Fuck you.”

He bites his lip, and to her annoyance, he laughs. But she listens more carefully, and it sounds very self deprecating. “I deserved that.”

“Yeah,” Noelle looks down at her feet. “So…what? You still love me?”

“I do.”

“And what are you going to do about that?”

“What are you going to let me do?”

“I live in Brooklyn.”

“I know,” she whips her head up. Jeremy looks sheepish, which she didn’t even think was something he knew how to do. “Seth mentioned it when we caught up a bit ago. I also still follow you on Instagram.”

She tries again. “It’s been five years.”

“And I’m here sitting with you and still feel the exact same way I did back then. Even more, to be honest.” He eyes her pointedly. “Any more excuses?”

Her voice softens. “You really hurt me.”

“I know. And I’m so sorry, Noelle.”

“I hurt you too.”

He shrugs. “We were young and stupid.”

“And we’re still not?” Noelle says with a snort before swallowing. “I’m not the same person you fell in love with.”

“I’m sure I’m not either. But I don’t know if there’s a world where I don’t love every version of you.”

“Even after reading the book?”

“Especially after reading the book,” he sighs. “Noelle, I know this is unfair of me. All of this. And I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to reach out. But I always intended to. And then you’re here? And I see you twice in two days? I’d be an idiot to not try. More of an idiot than I am, anyways.”

“Try for what?”

“A second chance? To be friends? Whatever you want.” He suddenly deflates. “Even if you don’t want anything to do with me. At least I’ll know.”

“Why did you never text me?”

“I thought about it a lot,” he admits. “I tried once, actually, after the high of a really good win. But it didn’t go through. I got the message.”

“The message?”

“You blocked me, right?”

Oh. “Yeah,” she lies. “I did.” She reaches into her bag for a pen and gestures for the book, which he gives to her, a curious gleam in his eyes. “I’m in Boston for two more days, including today.”

He takes the hint immediately. Eagerly. “I have a game tonight, but I’m free tomorrow.”

“Who are you guys playing?”

“Toronto. And I’m starting. Should be a good one.”

She hums non-committedly, scribbling on the inside of the front cover. She hands it back to him with a small, close-lipped smile. She nods at him to read the message.

to my first fan, 

i still love you too. 

xxx-xxx-xxxx

yours, 

noelle

He looks up, eyes shining but a bit confused. 

“I never blocked you. I just changed my number.”

“Oh.”

“And even if I still love you, I’m still mad at you.”

“I know. I’d be more surprised if you weren’t.”

She stands up, adjusting the bag on her shoulder and putting her sunglasses on. “Text me?”

His mouth splits wide into a grin. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

She backs away with one last attempt at a smile before turning down the street.

[keline11]

Missa's therapy session.

(so much chaos in this stream, I don't like watching it)

(drawing: scammer)

The first one was missa saying that he came back and everything was different. He meet up with roier, and were talking about how the island change while he wasn't there.

Roier: “Do you remember the railroad you were boulding?”

Missa: “Yeah! I know!-”

R: *showing his waystone* “It's no longer of any use.”

M: “YEAH! FOR FUCK’S SAKE ROIER THANK YOU VERY MUCH!! When I finished, someone transported in front of me and was like ‘what are you doing?’"

R: “well, it’s cute/nice-”

M: “Nah, go fuck youself”

R: “I say you keep building it”

M: “You know what? I feel like the fucking broken fork. you know? the crooked fork? that is the only fork, it’s the only one, it's unique and different, different to the other ones BUT IT’S USELESS, IT DOESN’T WORK FOR ANYTHING, THAT’S ME! OK? I AM THE CROOKED FORK!”

This one was when people where chasing him.

Melissa: “What brings you here?”

Missa: “uh, I’m not sure if I should have this session- no, I should talk about my problems”

Me: “No you should do it”

Mi: “yeah, you are right”

Mi: “psicolog- melisso- you- melissa- roier- whatever you want to call yourself-"

Me: “what? what did you say?”

Mi: “Melissa! Melissa!”

Me: “yeah melissa, melissa”

Mi: “many things have happened in my life, I only wanted to build a theme park and invite everyone from the island, but I meet with some people around and they tell me that I was the worst father in the world, and I also saw my son but he was different-”

Mi: “everything has been bad, I wanted to see my son but he was different, he was hanging out with people that are a bad influence for him because they wanted to attack me. They did something to chayanne, they did something to my son”

Me: “Would you say that they changed him?”

Mi: “Definitely, something is wrong with my little child“

Me: “I see”

Then he tells her the bullshit that frvr told him. (I don't remember exactly and I am not seeing that part of the stream, but basically he told him that chayanne was cucurucho, some shit like that.)

Mi “that’s not my son! my son wouldn’t do something like that!”

...

Mi: “there’s something wrong with foolish and tubbo they wanted to attack me, they hurt me, they chased me, and my son was with them, they are a bad influence on my son. My son was an angel, a beautiful little thing that took care of the people.”

..

Me: “So you said that they changed your son and they have been very rude to you, but missa, don't be sad, you have to be with the people who add to you, not those who subtract from you. Then I tell you to talk with your son alone, and tell him how you feel”

Mi: “Melissa, thank you for the therapy”

They start talking in english here.

Richarlyson: “What do you think of bringing chayanne here?”

Mi: “Do you think it is a good idea?”

Me: “I think is a excellent idea, but *speaks in english* you need to speak in english, because you know, chayanne doesn’t speak spanish”

Mi: “I don’t know if I am ready to speak with my son”

Me: “I think it's time, you need to speak to him”

Mi: “I’ll do it then”

Then they invite chayanne to the room like a tv show. (soooo funny)

pipipipipipipi

Me: “Chayanne, your dad is very sad, because you change and your friends treat your father very bad, what do you have to say?”

Chay: “I was sleeping so much waiting for you, I am sad too”

Mi: “no…”

Chay: “I want to be able to speak to you as well”

Me: “Chayanne, you need to know that your dad has sleeping problems, and some times your dad needs to sleep for months”

Mi: “I wasn't sleeping, I was traveling across the world looking for a job, so I can be competent for you father, I was trying to be the best for your father and also for you, and I failed because it took me a lot of time, I didn’t do a good job I know-”

Chay: "But you are already the best for us”

Mi: *crying* “I’ve been trying I swear, it’s so hard being an absent dad, looking at you from the distance”

Chay: “Me too, I’ll try to be better”

Mi: “(but) you are! you are the best! you don’t need to be better you are the best on this island, maybe you are better psychiatrist than melissa-”

Me: “What-?”

Mi: “Shut up this isn't about you”

Chay: “But you don't want to speak to me”

Mi: “(but) I am here, speaking to you right now, I’ve been trying to fix everything I’ve been doing wrong, I am so sorry you are with bad people because of me, I am sorry”

Me: “I think this needs to be solve with a song”

Chay: "sure"

They sing “We are the world”.

Me: “you see, it's fine now, don’t you feel better?”

Mi: “...no”

Chay: "jajajajaja no"

After the session

Chay: *in spanish* “I love you papa”

Mi: “I love you son, forgive me for being absent- sorry for being a bad dad, I was away for too long”

Chay: *in spanish* “I learn a little, ok?"

Mi: “Chayanne you don’t need to learn, I can speak in english with you- chayanne you don’t need to change, I am the problem, I must understand you, I have to be better for you, so I’ll be here everyday- not a promise- I’ll be here, to be a better father for you”

Chay: “But how much better is enough? You are enough for me already”

Mi: “no, I am not, I leave for too long”

Pipipipipipi

Sad ending. )8

[nolita-fairytale]

still into you | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | chapter four: sunday

summary: after returning home from new york, carmy has a surprise & a very important question for you.

warnings: swearing, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, drinking & smoking, suggestive language.

word count: 4.3k

listen to: sympathy - the goo goo dolls | still into you (cover) - julia sheer | let's get married - bleachers | (playlist here)

a/n: this chapter has me screaming internally and externally. i'm not well. now who's ready for some early carmy x reader angst?! thank you to all who reblogged, commented, liked. i will keep writing and annoying everyone w my obsession for this man.

read: chapter three

Sunday

It’s early-Sunday morning by the time you arrive at JFK. You, Sydney, Marcus, and Carmy wait in the hellishly long Starbucks line because it’s the only fuckin’ thing available at the airport this morning. 

Fuckin’ monopolies, you think to yourself, begrudgingly. 

After ordering all at once, the four of you wait for your coffees. Your order isn’t the most unique – just a cafe au lait with oat milk, no sugar. The hard at work barista quickly makes their way through all four coffee orders, glad that they’re simple. As the order’s up, you watch the barista add the four cups – three hot, one iced – to the pick up station. 

“Christ, I need this,” Sydney grumbles, her head throbbing from a few too many drinks the night before. 

She’s exhausted from the weekend and knows she stayed out a little too late last night. This morning’s wake up call for the airport was less than pleasant, and she’s just glad that she can sleep on the plane. 

“Someone’s hungover,” you chide playfully. 

“Shut up,” she shoots back, earning a laugh from you. 

You look down at your coffee cup, immediately noticing that the name on the coffee cup is not yours. 

“Oh shit. I think I took the wrong coffee by accident,” you say, your face twisting a confused look. 

Carmy’s eager to rush to your side, taking the coffee from you, “Huh. Looks like you got switched up with… some guy named Sam?” 

He takes your cup of coffee, walking back over to the pick up station. There’s a man picking up a coffee cup with your name written on it in bold letters. Carmy chuckles realizing that you have almost the exact same order as this ‘Sam’ guy. 

“Excuse me. I think my fiance accidentally took your coffee. Are you Sam?” Carmy asks, holding out the coffee cup to the stranger. 

“Oh! I wondered why my extra double shot of espresso was missing from the-,” he starts, checking the label. “Yeah, this is it. Thanks for lookin’ out!”

Carmy gives the man a half smile, before jumping at the sound of Sydney’s voice, pitched louder and higher than normal. 

“Carmen Berzatto, something you want to share with the class? Did you just say FIANCE!?” Sydney practically shrieks, garnering the attention of the long Starbucks line adjacent to where you stand. 

“No fucking way!” Marcus exclaims, his voice booming as he grabs your left hand. “You guys are engaged?! Since when!!”

The four of you look around, noticing that your little outburst has earned an assortment of reactions from the various people in line. You’re blushing and Carmy’s face has turned a shade of pink that seems to spread all the way underneath the neckline of his white t-shirt. Suddenly, he feels overwhelmingly shy, as he focuses on not dropping either of your coffee cups. 

“I’m so sorry. We did not mean to disturb or alarm-. You know… what you guys got goin’ on this morning,” Sydney apologizes, her eyes scanning the coffee line. 

“But our best friends literally just got engaged!”

A few people in line are clapping, a few others turn to each other, whispering excitedly, while a few ‘congratulations’ are uttered in the direction of you and Carmy. 

“Fiance, huh?” you ask, under your breath. 

“Tryin’ it out,” he answers with a shrug. 

You can tell it brings him more satisfaction than he’ll ever admit – getting to call you his fiance – and Carmy can’t wait to be out of the spotlight as he quickly ushers you, Syd, and Marcus away from the airport Starbucks. As you head towards your gate, Syd and Marcus continue the berating for not telling them sooner. 

“So you guys were just gonna get engaged all privately and shit and not tell us?” Marcus teases. “Shit, man. That’s fucked up.”

“It just happened last night,” you defend yourself, before shooting Carmy a look. “And I didn’t know we were telling anyone yet.”

The blush that runs across his cheeks turns a shade darker, and you can tell that he’s completely and utterly embarrassed by all of this attention. 

“But where’s the ring? I thought you-?!” Sydney exclaims, earning a strong glare from Carmy that says ‘stop talking right now.’

“This is why we didn’t say anything,” he grumbles, cutting her off so that she can’t say anymore. As Sydney realizes she’s almost spoiled the surprise, she’s quick to course correct by laughing it off. 

“Ha! Yes, right, that’s uh-. Who needs a ring anyways?” she pivots, earning a laugh from you in response to her rather strange behavior. 

“The ring’s… a secondhand thought at this point,” you placate them, making sure your casual tone communicates your lack of expectation.  

Even though you feel like both Carmy and Sydney are being weird right now, you move right past it. You’ve never been one to need something physical to understand how much Carmy loves you. With your coffee in one hand, and Carmy’s hand in the other, you give him a reassuring squeeze. 

Ring or no ring, you were going to marry the love of your life.

*

By the time you make it home, you’re exhausted and so grateful that you had the foresight to take tomorrow off. You knew you’d wanted an extra day to prepare for the week ahead and a day to spend with Carmy on his day off. 

Carmy, your fiance. 

You get butterflies just thinking about it. 

After a long weekend of cooking, exploring – not to mention casually getting engaged – you’re ready to do fuckall for a day and a half before your work week starts. You figure out what you can push to tomorrow: grocery shopping, a few chores here and there. You find yourself curled up on the couch with Aioli, who seems like she’s genuinely missed you as she cuddles up to you. She bumps her soft head against your shoulder, before curling up into the sweetest little croissant next to you on the couch. 

You flip through your phone, scrolling through some social media app as you hear a chaotic rustling sound coming from your bedroom. Seconds later, Carmy comes bursting back into the living room, phone in hand. He looks worried, prompting you to ask:

“Everything alright?”

“Ffffffffuck!” he exclaims, frustratedly. “Just got a text from Fak. Emergency at the restaurant, babe.” 

“Shit,” you swear.

“I gotta take care of this,” he admits with a huff. 

“Right now?” you ask, unable to hide your disappointment that after fifteen minutes of being home, he’s already rushing back to work.

He shoots you a remorseful look before saying, “Yeah.”

“Can’t leave for the fuckin’ weekend without something going to shit,” he mutters under his breath. 

He knows he’s laying it on thick. 

“Okay,” you resign yourself. 

“Will you be home for dinner?”

“Think so,” he says, almost as a consolation. “I’ll shoot you a text when I work this shit out.” 

You nod in understanding. 

“I don’t have the energy to go to the store today. Thought I’d pick something up from the Thai place across the street we like,” you suggest.

“Sure,” he nods in agreement, urgently. 

You know he’s in a hurry, noticing as his eyes flicker from you to the door, then back to his phone. 

“Okay, last thing: I uh-, before you go,” you begin. 

You watch as Carmy’s face softens. He knows how much you were looking forward to spending the afternoon with him. He only feels a little bad about the fact that he’s totally pulling one over on you. 

“I’m gonna meet up with Natalie for a walk later. Are you… cool if I tell her?” you ask, checking in.

He waits a beat before nodding, “Uh. Yeah. She’ll probably kill me if we don’t.” 

“Right, and, our friends kind of told an entire Starbucks line at an airport so…” you reply playfully. 

He gives you a half smile and you can see he’s preoccupied with whatever emergency is happening at the restaurant. 

“Okay, that’s all I have. Love you, Bear,” you say, letting him know he can go. 

“Love you,” he replies, before leaving the softest goodbye kiss on your lips. 

And he’s off, hurrying out of your apartment like a bat out of hell. 

Only there’s no emergency at the restaurant. 

He just needed an excuse to get out of the house and get the ring. Your ring. He’s been blowing Richie’s phone up all day, every chance he had. Every moment he thought you weren’t looking, he’d send a string of texts to Richie: asking him where he’d be, if he could grab it at home, bring it to the restaurant. 

Carmy walks briskly towards The Bear. He wonders if his quick pace is a symptom of his nerves. Last night’s conversation had been so casual, and it’s not like you were going to change your mind. But there was something about doing it again – doing this properly – that made him feel antsy. 

When he arrives at The Bear, he enters through the back of the restaurant, marching right into the kitchen. He knows that the staff on shift should be prepping for dinner service, ready to reopen for dinner within the hour. 

“What’s goin’ on, Carmy? Thought you wouldn’t be in till Tuesday,” Angel says as soon as he sees Carmy. 

“No, yeah, we just got back,” Carmy says back, sending Angel a half smile as a greeting. “Just uh, pickin’ up something from Richie.” 

“He left for a few earlier, but… think he’s back? Think he’s out there,” Angel nods towards the front of house, before returning to what he was doing previously.

Carmy’s eyes scan the back of house before calling out, “Yo, cousin!”

Moments later, the taller, pure pain-in-the-ass of a man’s bursting through the double doors that lead to the dining area. 

“There he is! The man that’s been blowin’ up my phone all day!” Richie shouts back, making his way into the kitchen. “Thought I’d have to get a restraining order, ya fuckin’ lizard.”

“Do you have it or what?” Carmy snaps, getting right to the point. 

“Hello to you too, Carmen,” Richie replies. 

Carmy rolls his eyes as Richie glares at him. 

Richie’s face falls with a sigh. He’s not going to give his cousin a hard time – not today. 

“Yeah, ‘course I do,” Richie says, pulling the small box he’s been holding onto all weekend out of his pocket. 

“Jeff! How was New York, baby?” Tina asks, as she approaches the both of them. Her eyes widen as soon as she sees what Richie’s holding. 

“Oh shit.”

“Right?” Richie exclaims, with a rousing laugh. “Carmen’s finally lockin’ it down, T! Just like ya told him.” 

“Watcha guys lookin’ at? Hey! Welcome back, Bear!” Fak greets, interrupting the conversation by joining in. 

“This son of a bitch is about to be the luckiest man alive. Can’t believe the broad hasn’t left your ass yet,” Richie says, encouraging Carmen in the only way he knows how to. 

“Ooh let me see,” Fak says, reaching out to grab the ring box. 

Fak opens the box, seeing the shiny engagement ring, his eyes widening as soon as he realizes what’s going on. 

“Wow, Bear. You think she’ll say yes?” Fak asks, excitedly, as he hands the box back to Carmy. 

Tina glares at him while Richie shouts something along the lines of, “You really wanna put that in his fuckin’ head, you fuckin’ stroke?”

“First of all, I’m not a fuckin’ stroke. And second of all-!” Fak shrugs. 

“Uh, first of all. You are. And second of all, of course she’s gonna say yes you fuckin’ waste of space,” Richie interjects, protectively shutting any notion that you’d say ‘no’ down. 

“Very nice, Jeff,” Tina compliments, admiring the ring. She exchanges glances with Carmy. “Very nice. I think she’s really gonna like that.”

Carmy smiles at the sound of Tina’s approval. As much as he’d like to take credit for picking out a beautiful engagement ring all by himself, he’d asked Sugar to go with him a few weeks ago. She’d been surprised he asked in the first place, but he’d wanted to get it right, and knew he’d want a second opinion. It wasn’t till Sydney caught wind of his plans that she insisted she join in, adding a third opinion to the mix. 

Surprisingly, it hadn’t been a ‘too many cooks in the kitchen’ scenario – both his sister and his work-wife acting as his biggest cheerleaders. 

“Alright you fuckin’ replicants. Let’s get back to work,” Richie orders, shooing Tina and, especially Fak, away. 

He makes sure no one else is listening before he leans in, patting Carmy on the back a few times while he says:

“You got yourself a good thing. Proud of you..”

“Thank you, cuz,” Carmy replies, with a shake of his head. “And thanks. For holding onto this for me. 

Richie starts to back away, pointing a finger at Carmy, “Don’t fuck it up.”

Carmy shakes his head. 

He’s really going to try not to. 

While Carmy makes a quick trip to the grocery store before heading home to set up his surprise for you, you’re across town with Natalie. Not a bad alternative, you think to yourself. You’ve picked up a coffee for you, and a matcha latte for her, as the two of you wander alongside the River Walk. 

“I’m dying for a cup of coffee,” she whines, dissatisfied with the grassy green liquid in her cup. “This whole tea thing really isn't doing it for me and I can’t decide if I like or hate matcha so I just keep drinking them to see.”

“Yeah I-, I do not envy you. While I do really enjoy matcha, no amount of matcha lattes will ever hit like coffee,” you commiserate with your soon-to-be sister in law. “How’ve you been feeling?”

“Like garbage,” she exhales an exasperated sigh, woefully. “Don’t get me wrong. Pete and I have been trying to get pregnant for a while now, and I’m so happy…!”

“But I’m also exhausted and my boobs feel huge,” Sugar continues, and you can hear how tired she is in her voice. “The whole first trimester, I don’t think I slept through the night and I spent every single morning just emptying any contents of my stomach into the toilet. My clothes are starting to fit differently which is… well, it is what it is… and on top of it all, I’m seriously craving the strangest things.”

You chuckle, “Sounds like a nightmare.”

“Yeah it’s… it’s super weird. But enough about me and my swollen boobs…” she agrees. “How was New York? I saw some of the pictures on your instagram… it looks like you guys had a great time!” 

It’s the perfect segway for you to tell her the news, so you take a sip of your coffee, suddenly feeling a little nervous and also excited to tell her. 

“Yeah, so uh, that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” you start, some of the nerves trickling into the way your voice sounds.

“Oh god. What’d he do?” Sugar asks back, instantly. 

You laugh, quick to reassure her, “No, it’s not like that! New York was… really great.”

You take a beat before continuing. 

“It was kinda weird too. I think… just because we have so many memories there, yknow?” you begin, a small hesitancy in your voice that Natalie instantly detects. She listens as you both continue your walk, coffee cups in hand. “And I think it made us both think… about what we want… from our relationship…”

“Okay…” she trails off, her ears practically perking up as soon as she knows where this conversation could be going. 

You stop your walk, turning to face her. 

“And we talked… and… decided that….”

“Carmy and I… are getting married,” you say, unsure of how you’re so cool and level-headed as you say it. 

“Shut up!” she exclaims, grabbing for your left hand almost instantly. 

“We’re not-, we don’t have a ring yet,” you’re quick to explain, as she shoots you a look. Her eyes flicker from your ring finger, then back to your face. She knows he has the ring, and the fact that you’re not wearing it right now means he didn’t bring it to New York with him. 

She’ll let him off the hook. Just this once. 

“That soft shitty bitch,” she sighs, with an eye roll. “I could kill him for not doing it for real but… I know it’s your style.”

“Right.”

“Oh my god! You and Carmy are getting married!!” she squeals. This may be the best news she’s gotten since she and Pete found out they were pregnant. “I mean. Took him long enough.” 

You roll your eyes playfully, “Sounds like we’re finally gonna be sisters-in-law.” 

“Finally!” she repeats with a laugh. 

You spend a little more time with Nat at the River Walk, before the both of you stop to get a snack. Sugar’s totally honest with how strange her cravings have been as you stop at a convenience store for pickle chips, a pop, and a pack of twizzlers. You decide to try her very strange combination of snacks, just to hold you over before dinner. 

As you make your way home, you notice that the days are getting longer. The sun is still high in the sky and it reminds you that summer is almost here. It’s wild to think about. Your trip to New York hadn’t just gotten into Carmy’s head. It’s had you in yours too. It’s strange to think that, this time three years ago, Carmy was but a painful memory: your best friend who’d just left town, your best friend who couldn’t bother to call you back, your best friend who had broken your heart because maybe, just maybe, you were in love with him. 

And now, thanks to a one week trip to Chicago that set it all in motion, you’re marrying him. 

You thank your lucky stars that he managed to work up the nerve to call you that Fall – that he managed to swallow his pride and ask you to come help out with this new restaurant he was working on. 

You take the long way home, enjoying your own company too much. You figure you’ll take a shower when you get home, change into your comfiest clothes, then head across the street to order dinner before Carmy gets home. You hadn’t heard from yet, which only told you that the emergency at the restaurant was most likely a big one. You expect for him to be gone most of the night, crawling into bed while you’re half asleep after scarfing down reheated leftovers. You weigh your options –  how you’d like to spend the night by yourself:

Trash TV. Snuggling up with Aioli. Maybe even doing a load of laundry. 

As you turn your key in the door, you hear a clamoring of pots and pans. 

But Carmy hadn’t texted you. 

He wasn’t home already, was he?

You push the door open, pulling your keys out of the door, before placing them into the dish that sits on the end table right by the front door. 

“Carm?” you question, as you hear movement in the apartment. 

You can smell the scent of boiling water, cured pork, and soon enough, you spot one of your clear, glass bowls filled with a tomato passata. The sight stops you in your tracks. He’s got his french-laundry-blue apron on, because, of course, he’d wanted some for the house too. You watch as he moves around the kitchen, his attention focused on chopping up half of a red onion. Carmy must’ve lit every single candle that he could find in the apartment and scattered them around your living space before you’d gotten here. 

Aioli seems transfixed by the revolutions of the vinyl Carmy’s put on as the record, perched on the windowsill next to your record player. The turntable slows to a halt, signaling that it’s time to flip it over.

You’re speechless.

“Carmy, what’s going on?” you ask, looking around the room. 

“Babe, can you flip the record over?” he asks, motioning towards the windowsill. 

“Uh…” you manage to get out, setting your bag down by the entryway. You make your way over to alcove, moving the needle back to its place, before flipping over the record. As you glide the needle back onto Side B, the sounds of Louis Armstrong boom throughout your living room. 

“I thought-, what happened at the restaurant?” you stammer through, watching him in your open kitchen. “I hadn’t heard from you I just thought-.” 

But you don’t have the words, feeling caught off guard, because whatever’s happening in your apartment right now feels big. 

Carmy reaches a stopping point, setting his knife down, and making his way to the sink to wash his hands. He’s not going to propose to you (again) while his hands smell like onions. Your eyes are glued to him as he removes his apron, before setting it down on the counter. 

“Surprise?” he says, almost apologetically. 

“Oh,” you say back, as if you’ve forgotten the entire English language. 

You’re not sure why tonight feels big, but it does. Maybe it’s because you got engaged last night. 

Yeah, maybe it’s that. 

But Carmy’s not one to make a big romantic gesture, so you’re not sure what’s going on. 

“Good ‘oh?’” he asks, his eyes wide as he stares at you. 

“Uh. Yeah,” you say, your words finally coming back to you. “I thought you weren’t going to be home till late. I-, I hadn’t heard from you so I guess I wasn’t expecting you to be home.”

He smiles sheepishly. 

“There wasn’t actually an emergency at the restaurant,” he states, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. 

He’s not sure why he’s nervous. He’d asked you last night and you’d said yes. 

But nonetheless, this feels different. 

“Oh,” you repeat. 

At this point, you’re not sure you’re supposed to be saying anything, so you wait. You examine the face of your very nervous boyfriend – fiance – as he looks down at the floor, his hands fumbling for something in his pocket. 

“You’re my best friend and the love of my life,” he starts, and he hopes you can’t hear that his voice is shaking. “And I-, well, I wanna do this for real.”

Carmy pulls a small box out of his pocket. 

“Woah,” you say, your eyes widening as soon as you see it. . 

“I know you already said yes, but… I didn’t have this with me. So,” he continues, his face red as he drops to one knee. 

“Holy shit, Carmy.”

You swallow because the way that he looks at you takes your breath away. 

“Marry me?” 

You can’t help it as tears spring to your eyes. He opens the ring box, and you gasp, seeing the most ‘you’ ring possible. This feels so different than his ask last night, and both proposals feel equally true to both your relationship. You reach for him, pulling him back up to you as you say:

“Yes, Carmen. And yes, again. Let’s fucking get married.”

And Carmy’s leaping to his feet, pulling you into the warmest, passionate embrace. You pull away, just far enough to grab his head and kiss him, pressing your lips to his even through your smiles and giggles. 

“Thank God,” he sighs, causing you to laugh as you pull away from him.

“Did you think I’d say no after I said ‘yes’ last night?” you ask with a laugh. 

He shakes his head, looking at the floor, “It just feels more real with the ring, you know? Speaking of.” 

And finally, he pulls the ring out of the box he holds in his hands. With your hand in his, he slides the delicate engagement ring on your ring finger, and you shake your head in total disbelief. 

“Carmy this is beautiful. Did you pick this out yourself?” you ask, holding out your hand to admire the ring.

“I… had some help. Syd and Sugar actually…,” 

You nod in response. Of course Sydney and Natalie had helped. And it explains the weird comments all day long about him not having a ring. 

“You did good, babe. So good,” you compliment, admiring the ring that sits so perfectly on your ring finger. 

“Yeah?” he asks. 

“Oh yeah,” you reassure him, grinning ear to ear. 

And finally, he leans in and kisses you, crashing his lips against yours. It’s then that you realize how nervous he is, his face hot with excitement. His lips move against yours, leaving a few long, passionate kisses before he pulls away slowly. His forehead is pressed against yours as he whispers:

“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Taking a more playful approach you giggle:

“And I can’t wait to be Mrs. Carmen Berzatto.”

“Shut up,” he smirks.

“You love it,” you say back. 

“I do,” he declares. “I love you.”

Carmy sits you down, and you watch as he makes you an amatriciana. You know that food is the way he shows you love – the way he knows how to communicate. You’re practically blushing as you watch him create the sauce for the pasta, your eyes admiring your very hot fiance, and the stunning ring he’s just put on your finger. He smiles to himself, hearing you type away on your phone as he moves around the kitchen. You’ve, of course, gotta spread the word and let Sydney and Sugar know that you’re grateful for their help. 

As Carmy continues to make dinner, you find a good place to pause your ‘we just got engaged’ PR campaign. You turn your phone ‘do not disturb’ so that you can focus on just being here with him. It’s then that it dawns on you: you get to watch him do this for the rest of your life. Carmy, your best friend, with all of his little neuroses, all of his quirky tattoos, those brilliant blue eyes of his, and his tender heart that you’d protect at all costs… he’s yours forever. 

And you, his. 

And you think to yourself, that maybe, this was always how it was supposed to be.

fin.

*

a/n: while the story is done, there is a lovely bonus smut scene called 'it's perfect, chef' that picks up right where this chapter left off.

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila @cool-girl-is-hot @nunya7394 @galaxyprincess51-blog @carmensberzattos

[odyssean-flower]

Have another deleted scene

(all i can say is that the chapter is coming together, so here, have this scene)

For a few moments, neither of you spoke. You stared at the misty scenery before you. It somewhat reminded you of the painting you did for Neuvillette.

I should get straight to the point, you thought, then turned to him. But before you could speak, he beat you to it.

“What is that?” he asked, pointing to the wrapped bundle on your lap.

“Oh, this?” you looked down at it. “These are the macarons I made.”

“You made them?” he leaned closer towards you. His eyes looked more animated than you had ever seen them before. They made for a strange contrast against his serious features, and you couldn’t help but stare at them. Even though he had an ageless sort of look, he looked younger somehow.

It took you a few seconds before you realized you were, once again, staring at him for too long. One would think that you would know better by now.

“Yes. There was a baking workshop happening in town, so I decided to join it for fun. I don’t think they turned out very well, though, so I’m planning to feed them to the ducks.”

“I see,” Neuvillette stared at the bundle in consideration, then spoke again. “You may not be aware of this, but Fontaine’s laws state that it is illegal to feed cakes and other baked goods to birds. It is detrimental to their digestive systems.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” you said. “Well, of course you would know about these things. I’ll just throw them away, then.” You decided not to mention the many times you fed burnt bread to the finches and pigeons back home.

“Throw them away? How wasteful. Surely they could be served for some better purpose.”

“Well, I’ve already eaten, and I don’t want to give bad macarons to Marie or the Melusines, so I’m not sure what to do with them.”

“I could think of a few solutions,” Neuvillette gave you a meaningful look.

“Hold on…are you saying that you want to eat them?” you said incredulously.

“Is that so surprising?”

“Yes,” you nodded emphatically. “I’ve never seen you eat desserts at home, and macarons aren’t exactly brimming with moisture. Plus…I was not exaggerating when I said they aren’t good. They really aren’t.”

“It is good to try new things. Also, I doubt anything you made could be truly terrible.”

Where is his high opinion of me coming from? You wondered, not for the first time. “I don’t want you to eat bad food. I’ll make something better for you next time, I promise.”

“I still wish to sample them, though,” Neuvillette was being strangely insistent about this. The rain seemed to be coming down harder. “Even one will do.”

“If you insist. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” you unwrapped the bundle and handed him a pink macaron. He took it from you and put it in his mouth without even so much as inspecting it. Somehow, he admirably managed to keep a straight face as he tasted the cake and swallowed it. He took out a handkerchief from his breast pocket, and for a moment you thought he was going to spit into it. But no, he only wiped his mouth.

“Another, please,” he said. He didn’t even sound a little winded.

“I can’t do that to you,” you said, feeling as though you had committed a crime. Neuvillette was known to not have many good words to say about Fontainian cuisine, and yet, here he was, choking down your terrible macarons. Maybe he’ll completely swear off human food after this. “Don’t force yourself for my sake.”

“I’m not forcing myself,” Neuvillette said, and it was almost convincing. “It isn’t as bad as you said. It…certainly possesses a unique flavor.”

“Neuvillette…” you said in exasperation. “I wish you would stop being so overly considerate. It’s alright to say what you feel, I can take it.”

“But I do mean what I say, always,” Neuvillette said, sounding baffled. “May I please have another macaron.”

You stared at him for a minute, and he stared back at you. He was always so sincere. It only strengthened your belief that you were making the right choice here.

“Fine, since you seem so keen on torturing yourself. But we’ll split this one, okay?”

You broke a blue macaron in half and gave one half to him. You made a face as you chewed and swallowed the cake. You had no idea what possessed Neuvillette to ask for seconds.

After you finished your baking mishap, you washed it down with the bottle of Fonta that you had thankfully brought with you. Neuvillette was similarly taking a sip of water from his cup. You could feel his disapproving gaze on you, but chose to ignore him.

At last, you managed to wash the flavor of paste out of your mouth and calmed your nerves down somewhat. Now, go for it, or else you’ll never get the nerve again! You mentally cheered yourself on.

[sashi-ya]

𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

⭒ pairing: kuchiki byakuya x f! reader. R 18+ ⭒ requested by Anonymous [Bya-kun Anon 🌸] 💖 ⭒ inspired on the song: 𝄞 I Wanna Be Yours by Artic Monkeys 𝄞 ⭒ tw: MDNI. Byakun is finally out of the pond, awake and needy than ever. passionate, love making. love love love. not that lustful. ⭒ masterlist a song + a character event

“He is awake, (Name)!” Rukia chimed, desperately and abruptly breaking the state of full concentration you were in.

You open your eyes, looking at her with a shine you were lacking since that day… the day you almost lost him.

“BYAKUYA-SAMA? HE IS UP?” you ask, jolting from the cold tatami and running outside. You usually adore to spend time with Rukia, but you couldn’t think of anything else but to hug him so tightly.

As you run through the corridors of squad 0, you pass right through the door of where he is.

“(Name)…” he utters, peaking outside the room.

Your feet carve marks into the ground to stop and turn around. His hair, still wet. Just the white kimono covering a healthy body. And his severe, yet so kind eyes looking at you, waiting for your brain to process that’s really him.

Your lips separate as your jaw relaxes. Your eyes soften. The man you spend looking at while floating on what it looked like an eternal bath, is finally standing on both feet in front of you.

“How many times I have to tell you, you shouldn’t run through the halls?” he scolds you, because that’s his love language.

“Byakuya-sama!!!!” you run to him, feeling the strength of his reiatsu. Stronger than you ever felt, as if it was new… his soul felt like a new one, though, that what made him unique still lingered in your heart.

He receives you in his arms, as you pounce into him. Your legs surround his waist, your arms his neck. He presses you against his body hard enough to break your bones.

You cough a little. How comes he is that strong? He isn’t used to his new him?

“Sorry, I feel… uh… weird. My arms, they feel strong- I haven’t yet-“ he tries to excuse himself, ripping a gasp from your throat; Byakuya never apologizes, not to you, nor anyone else under him.

“No… crush my bones if you must, Kuchiki Taicho. I don’t care… you… you are alright…” you whisper, grabbing his face in between your hands with utmost care.

Your nose touches his, as he walks back inside that room. Your lips beg to join the other. Your souls, pleading to bond once more.

“I won’t crush your bones, don’t be silly. And don’t be so loud, ok? I am ok, how are you?” he asks, resting his forehead on yours, so assure you are absolutely healthy.

You nod, acknowledging that, even if your relationship wasn’t a secret… there were still some things the rest didn’t know. After all, both were just starting to love each other when the Quincy attacked.

“I’m so happy you are alive, Taicho” you whisper, with tears coming to your eyes. You saw him die, so his arms around your body still feel unreal.

Your fingertips move his wet hair off his face. You might be the only person allowed to do so. “Look at you, so beautiful as ever…” you purr.

Byakuya’s expression also softens, looking at you with eyes of profound love and also a lot of regrets.

“I am sorry, love. I swear I won’t ever again fail you, nor Rukia, nor Renji, nor the Sei-“ he tries to excuse for putting his life in danger to protect you all. But you won’t let him say such nonsense. Byakuya shouldn’t feel guilty, Byakuya should feel proud.

“Byakuya…” you let yourself call him by his first name with no honorifics this time. “You made us all the proudest we could ever be. Thank you for protecting us all, thank you for putting yourself there to fight them… you, Byakuya, you are the definition of a true soldier. I know you for the very first time asked for help, and you have no idea how proud I am of you…”

He looks at you, with the rain in his eyes and a storm inside his core. “You…” he barely murmurs before crashing his lips against yours with the force of a thousand souls in one.

Byakuya’s lips feel so soft as always. His arms feel as warm as always. But his soul, feels bigger than ever.

And so many kisses both share, that you wish you could tell him how his you wanna be. How much you love him, even if he probably already knows… However, the one who you thought would never be yours, this time is the one asking you for it the most…

As you two slide down, him falling on his knees with you straddling your hips on his lap, the kisses never stop and his tears neither they do.

Byakuya lifts you a little bit up just to make you comfortable over him, and for some minutes he forgot his own surname. He wasn’t Kuchiki Byakuya, the head of the Kuchiki clan. He wasn’t the captain of the sixth squad of the Gotei 13… he was, simply, a lover whose feelings needed to be shared.

“I wanna be yours…” he whines, with lips grazing yours and a painful pleading stare. “Yes, Byakuya. And I will never let you go, my love…” you murmur, kissing him back with so much love you even feel like it wasn’t possible to feel for a person.

His hand slides your kimono up, finding your core, so unaware of how wet you are. Desperately, he searches for concealing any little gap in between your bodies. Is not physical desire what moves him now, it is just and purely the lust of his heart for yours.

You let his white kimono slide through his shoulders, exposing his chest and back. Hands that can’t stop feeling every little indentation of such sacred flesh.

A dichotomy in between the delicacy and the dominancy of his sex, searching to bury into you, to feel ablaze by the walls of your femininity. The slender, soft fingers of his, traveling up and down the small of your back. The scent of his flesh, of clean flowery perfume, of musk masculine perfection.

“I wanna… no, I need to make love to you” he grunts, asking for the final permission to slide himself deep in.

“Please, I wanna be yours, make me yours. Make love to me…” you whine, moving so that he is able to finally penetrate you.

You throw your head back whenever feeling the tip stretching your entrance, and even if so many times your bodies have shared the heat of passion… today, things feel different. Like a reborn star, stronger, harder. No more sex, this time making love.

You bounce on him, both moaning into each other’s mouths. Your hands playing with his wet tufts of hair over his back, his pressing you harder against himself by your waist. How deep he wanna go? as deep as the love he has for you.

“I will forever protect… ngh… you. I’m yours. I’m so yours. I am all of the things that are yours, I am yours” he repeats, panting, as you can sense his shaft twitching inside you.

“Then, that means the whole world is mine… my love” you whisper, kissing the tears on his cheeks… because he is to you, exactly that… your whole world.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...

“Kuchiki Byakuya, your food is ready! I baked them all with my spi…ri…tual… Well, the pond seemed to be enough apparently! However, please eat once you two are finished!”

[anarchiii]

The One That Got Away —ACOTAR (canon) AU

Azriel x reader

Warnings: angst. Some swearing.

(Also Azriel is kind of a dickhead in this)

(This is based off the song ‘The one that got away’ by brielle von hugel (no I don’t like Katy Perry’s version))

(This is anti Elain so bugger off if you have a problem with that)

Summary; a girl, let’s call her Violet (its easier than ‘y/n’) is Azriel’s best friend and a Valkyrie in training, she secretly loves Az but the one she loves is in love with Elain.

Masterlist

Is what Violet desperately wanted to say to him. To Azriel, her best friend. That she, not Elain. Belonged with him. She had silently loved him for decades, he was perfect he was so kind and thoughtful, he was so so perfect. Violet had met him over sixty decades ago, Rhys had taken interest in her for her unique abilities. She was able to make maps, detailed renditions of the exact place, people and everything. It was like they were actually looking at them. It was a mirage of course. She was taken under The Shadowsingers wing for the ability. He had found you extremely helpful when doing his Spymaster things. Over the years you two had grown closer, he had started to confide in you, talk to you—about anything really, his job. Books he liked, his dreams—and you had done the same. You both had found you got along with one another well. But over the years your affection for him was no longer platonic, but something more. You loved him, really. But for a spymaster he sure wasn’t very good at noticing Violets affection for him. When he’d be training with Cassian and he’d take off his shirt. She would try and read but always get distracted ogling him—his muscles— She was practically drooling over him and everybody except Azriel noticed. Like whenever Violet would be chatting with Feyre or Mor she’d start talking about Azriel—so much in fact your friends had to basically shove something in her mouth to get her to shut up.

There was only one problem. Azriel was in love with Elain not her. She’d noticed ever since Elain had showed up Az had been spending all his time with her, oh. Violet wanted to go get lunch with him? Nope. He was always busy, busy with her. A couple of weeks ago Violet was celebrating her birthday and had invited Azriel, he’d never showed up. She had waiting hours for him, even after the party had finished and everyone had gone home she’d still waited. Eventually she’d given up and gone home—sulking in her to big bed—the next day she’d gone over to Azriel to confront him, he was standing near one of the many balconies talking to Elain, storming her way over to the pair she turned to Azriel ignoring Elain’s presence entirely. “Why didn’t you come to my birthday party Az?” Violet demanded. She watched as Azriel’s eyes widened slightly with surprise. He didn’t even remember? “I’m so sorry Violet I completely forgot, I had been talking with Elain and I must’ve lost track of time” Azriel said apologetically, But she didn’t miss the way he’d said talking, Violet looked to Elain from the corner of her eye to see the female blushing slightly. They’d been kissing. Elain had been sticking her tongue down his throat. While she had been waiting at the party with eyeliner running down her face. She was beyond pissed at both of them. Violet sucked in a deep breath fighting off the urge to claw the woman’s face off. “We’re so sorry Violet if we had known it was your birthday we wouldn’t have gotten distracted, once again were both so sorry” Elain said. “Save it Elain. I don’t want your petty excuses, just leave it.” She snapped.

“Hey, there’s no need to be mad it was a simple mistake. Besides the party wasn’t that important anyway, we can just celebrate it some other time.” Azriel said, anger lacing his every word. She couldn’t believe him, Wasn’t that important? It was her birthday for fucks sake. “Fuck you!” Violet said baring her teeth at him. With that she stormed off ignoring Cassian’s confused look.

She barely made it to her apartment before breaking down into tears. She hadn’t meant to say those things to them but she couldn’t help it. How had she fallen in love with Azriel in the first place? And why had she pursued him even though he clearly didn’t see her that way. She was about to go and hop in a nice warm bath when knocking appeared at the door, She walked over to it opening it as she wiped away her salty tears, looking up she saw Azriel standing there, what did he want now? “What’s wrong with you?” Azriel asked, oh, oh. “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you!” She practically screamed. The audacity. She looked into his eyes—eyes so full of anger, anger that was directed at her— she glared at him and he glared back. She was definitely not in love with him anymore, the thought made her tear up. Salty water streaked down her already wet face.

She looked at him again to find not even an ounce of pity or regret or anything apart from anger. That made her cry more, so she whispered “I can’t believe I was ever in love with you” Azriel’s eyes widened at that. He opened his mouth to respond but Violet had slammed the door in his face, locking it before sliding down it. Until she was hugging her knees, sobbing. She briefly remembered frantic knocking on the door, she didn’t open it. It eventually stopped. She got up and stumbled—because she’d been sitting for so long— to her bathroom, drawing a bath before stripping off her tear soaked clothes. She got into the boiling hot bath. Breathing in and out, her heart trying to regain a steady rhythm. After a while the bath water went warm then cold, her skin akin to a prune. Getting out of the slippery tub and drying herself off with the nearest towel. She barely put on clothes before she flopped onto her bed, bursting back into tears.

She woke up the next day in a daze, her pillow soaked. Her bed a mess. She rolled over on her bed, ending up on the floor with an “bitch” Violet groaned. She got off the ground and sauntered to the little kitchen, popping on the kettle to make some tea. She started on some toast while she waited. After she had finished breakfast and gotten on some decent clothes. She stalked out of the apartment and made her way to the townhouse. Once she was inside she made her way to Rhys’ office.

She rapped a few knocks on the door before a “come on in” came from inside the office. She opened the door and walked in before closing it behind her. Rhys met her eyes from behind the desk and she knew he was aware of what had happened yesterday. “Hey” she whispered “hey” Rhys repeated. “Could I talk to you please?” Violet whispered.

AZRIEL’S POV

Azriel felt terrible. He’d felt terrible ever since those words had came out of Violets mouth, Loved you. Violet had loved him. He hadn’t talked to anyone since yesterday, no one, not even Elain. He had given Rhys a brief explanation telepathically. He had been throwing up non stop from guilt and shame. After a while he eventually got up from kneeling at the toilet. He changed clothes and wandered over to the dining room where he saw Rhys, Feyre, Nesta, Cassian and Emerie talking and eating, Rhys looked up from where he’d been looking at something and when he met his high lords eyes he immediately knew something was wrong. He followed Rhys out to one of the many terraces, “What happened?” Azriel inquired. “Violet leaving is what happened.” Rhys said gruffly. Leaving? No that can’t be right. “Why is she leaving?” “I think you know the answer to that question. You have cost me a very valuable member to our inner circle Azriel.”

He felt sick. What had he done? He had completely ruined a decades long relationship with his best friend all because he fell for another woman, he should’ve known how she’d felt. He’d caught her staring at him on multiple occasions. When he’d put on a nice suit and she would just stare. And look starstruck. But he had just ignored it. “Do you know where she is?” Azriel said frantically, “back at her apartment probably if you fly fast enough you could catch her.” Rhys replied. He didn’t say anything else before he blasted off the terrace and flew faster than he’d ever flown before. He practically slammed into the cobblestone road outside her apartment. He raced up the steps to her floor and slammed his fist against the door. The face thar greeted him when the door opened was not one he recognised.

VIOLET’S POV

She had been zipping up her bags when frantic knocking shook the door, she knew who it was before she even opened the door. Blue eyes met those of brownish gold, in the most steely voice she could manage she said “what are you doing here” the surprise on Azriel’s face said it all; She had never looked at him this way. “I’m here to say I’m sorry, I really miss you baby, I’ll stop seeing Elain. Please I just want you back” Azriel said, but she could hear the lies dripping off the words. She did feel a little bad for Elain she hadn’t meant to snap at her. “It’s too late Azriel I’m leaving for the Summer Court now. Good luck.” She said simply then she winnowed her bags away before locking the door to her empty apartment and sauntered past a shocked Azriel before winnowing away to the Summer Court.

Two Years Later.

Violet couldn’t believe it had two years now, it seemed like just yesterday she was working for the night court, drinking wine with Mor, bickering with Cassian. Reading with Amren, discussing painting techniques with Feyre. Having deep conversations with Azriel. Discussing fashion with Rhys. Laughing with Nesta, tending to the garden with Elain. Although she regretted what had happened with Azriel, she had stayed in touch with the inner circle. She had started talking to Elain again via letter. A few months ago she had sent a letter to Azriel to say she was sorry for the things she had said to him and that she wished him well. She had a lovely villa by the beach and now worked for Tarquin, she had met a nice man a year ago, she was now engaged with a baby on the way. She wished she had handled it better with Azriel but the past was the past.

The End.

(Sorry I know this was random and a bit intense)

@itswritten @azriel-is-my-cinnamon-roll @acotarfans-blog @azrielhours @shadowsingerr @illyrianbitch

[witchthewriter]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬/𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

a/n: thank you to the anon who requested this, it was such a unique idea! If you have any more, I would love it!!!

Warnings: Mentions of death, killing, curses, swears, blood

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ        

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿    

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲: Followed by Death Eaters at the height of Voldemort’s power, you’re both cornered with no way out. You thought you had no choice but to fight to the death, and that meant using an Unforgiveable Curse. *For Draco’s, the roles are reversed and snatchers/werewolves/vampires are trying to kill you*

𝐆𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞

・Looks at you differently but swears he’s fine with your decision

・You can feel the shift though, and after a few weeks of this awkward tension, you bring it up

   “George, can we talk?”

“Sure, what’s up?” He barely looks up from the parchment he’s writing on. 

    “George, George-” You walk over and take the quill from his hands

“Oi-” 

    “Look at me!” 

He stares up at you for a few beats and you nearly die inside. He’s never looked at you like that before. 

  “Yes?” Was all he could say. 

“Do you still love me?” 

  Your heart shattered at his response. 

・After the Battle of Hogwarts you found each other again, and George dropped to his knees and apologised. Because now he understood. 

𝐋𝐮𝐧𝐚

・Nonjudgemental. 

・You were harder on yourself than she was, than anyone was. 

    “You did what you had to,” she said in her high-pitched, flowy voice

・And when you kept beating yourself up, she plucked a flower from a nearby bush and put it behind your ear

    “Hmmm, still as beautiful as you were before.”

・Your heart leapt and you knew she still saw you as the person you were before. 

・And you thought others would make fun of you for it, call you out on it, but no one did. Not a single person. From fear, from understanding, from not caring. Whatever it was, you had worried for nothing. 

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐝

・Felt a little inferior to you

・Like his partner was cooler than he was

・It wasn’t until George pointed out the severity of it that Fred ... saw you as even ... cooler x2

   “They did something that barely anyone has the guts to do. I’m proud I’m with someone so brave.”

・Isn’t so stupid that he makes jokes about it though 

・But he does make a few to lighten the mood whenever it’s brought up in a group setting 

𝐂𝐡𝐨

・Bit of a similar mindset to Ron actually, and because of her open mind Cho thought you acted appropriately 

  “Thank you for protecting us.”

・The fact that you did that curse doesn’t change how she sees you 

・Because Cho is one of those people who sees others as grey - she understands that not everything is black and white. People are multidimensional, and if anything, she feels a deep sense of gratitude.

・Almost like you sacrificed an innocent part of yourself to make sure that others were safe 

・Which is actually very brave 

𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲

・You did something that he wanted to do for years 

・So he was in a mixed mind - both awed and jealous 

・But he isn’t mad, or upset with you. He doesn’t see you any differently either. 

・Harry has experienced horrible things since his childhood - thanks to the Dursleys, and if many times he’s imagined performing a few on them (he wouldn’t actually do it though). 

・Has a feeling that you won’t be the only one having to perform those curses 

・And like Ginny, he believes you’re on the good side, so you aided the side of good

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞

・She gets upset

・Because she always wants to be a few steps ahead

・So the fact that you had to perform an Unforgivable Curse meant she wasn’t on the ball

・She apologises to you, and sobs in your lap. She loves you so much and never wants you to experience such horrible things. You console her, and probably cry yourself.

・So ... in a way she sees it as her making you do that

・But you remind her that she can’t be perfect all the time, and you make your own choices 

・She says what happened can just stay between the two of you if you wanted 

𝐑𝐨𝐧

・Thought you did what you had to, and doesn’t judge you for it. Not at all.

・He would’ve done the same, if it weren’t for your quick actions

・When others judge you for it, he defends you

     “You’d be dead if they didn’t act, you should be grateful!” 

・Found your forward-thinking...kinda sexy

・In his head he’s like ‘Yeah! That’s my baby! She/He/They’ll fuck you up!”

・It makes him feel safer around you actually, he knows you’d do whatever you have to to keep both you and him safe

𝐆𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐲

・Was grateful that you acted as quickly as you did

・What she most felt was curiosity- why you decided to use that particular curse, where did it come from, and had you been thinking about it a lot?

・So for many days, she asked a million questions 

・You never felt belittled or judged by her though

・Because she’s definitely chaotic good. 

・And she believes you’re both on the good side of this war, so you took out one of the bad guys

・If anyone gives you shit for it, then she OBLITERATES them

・Gives you great advice: 

     “What we do trying to survive doesn’t define who we are.”

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞

・The most bothered by it

・ It really, really bothered him

・Because of his parents, Neville despises Unforgivable Curses

・He understands why you chose to do it, but it still made him sick to his stomach

・Neville’s perception of you changed from that day on. He associated you with something darker 

・Your relationship took a toll

・And Neville was extremely distant

・You apologised but stood by your decision to use that particular curse. You saved both yours and Neville’s lives

・After some time he understood it, but still he saw you as a different person

・But he still loved you, and got to know that new way of perceiving you 

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨

・The second least bothered out of the group by it

・He’s heard many Unforgivable Curses in his lifetime due to his family members (i.e., his father & Aunt Bellatrix)

・Is still a tad shocked because you were supposed to be the more moral person out of the two of you

   “It deserved it,” Draco sneered, spitting on the dead corpse of the vampire

・You earned a bit of a reputation - people were way more intimidated by you now. And Draco loves it. 

・Now you both have a name for yourselves that people associate with fear

・But after the Battle of Hogwarts, things changed. So completely and incessantly. 

・With Voldemort defeated and Draco’s new perspective, he now saw what you meant

・He hated his father, he hated his upbringing but he hated how obsessed he was with seeming ... evil