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#okay I’m done fr this time maybe
crybaby-bkg · 2 years
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I hate when the littlest things trigger me soooo badly like I know it’s bc I need a social media break but it’s so fucking frustrating to have to come to this realization bc someone posted something that I don’t agree with and it made me have heart palpitations and panic and get chest pains. so dramatic I hate it and I also hate when taking a break really works and I exercise and watch calming movies and rest well bc WHY DOES IT REALLY WORK
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vcrnons · 10 months
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Yo fr fr those things are exactly why I stay away from twt fandom, twt is already the trash bin of humanity but it also applies to fandoms imo 💀 Also went back on Insta recently and tbh sometimes it's not much better... like... I'm so sorry those people count as fans
like. okay. im sure they mean well, you know? im sure this is either very well intentioned, or a lt worst, it’s a bad attempt at a clout chase. and as someone vernon biased of course i want to see him getting good opportunities and being recognised for more things. but when every single argument in your big mistreatment thread can be disputed by ‘hey, maybe he didn’t/doesn’t want to’ or ‘he was fucking busy?’ ………
there are leaves on trees out there, man. grass on the ground. birds, and shit. getting outside is good for the soul n maybe some people need to give it a try
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livvyofthelake · 1 year
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i cannot believe i played all three high school story books romancing MICHAEL the first time. girl why did you do that caleb is sooooo much better omg it’s ridiculous actually
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ellecdc · 5 months
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can i formally request something? (i have no idea if you take smut requests so please ignore me if not😭) a barty x reader smut where everyone already thinks they’re together so they’re like 🤔?? maybe they’re onto something
and maybe if they try to tell people (read regulus) they’re just like -_-¿ this is new
and well done on your exams!! i’m sure you aced them
hahaha omg this is so Barty and reader coded fr. thanks for your request (I hope I did it justice)
Barty Crouch Jr x afab fem!reader who have sex for the first sodding time, Evan
CW: smut - like straight up porn people, p in v intercourse, pussy slapping cuz apparently I'm a freak, soft choking, a slap in the face if you squint, 18+
This conversation had been going on for so long that you were truly fighting the urge to throw your head back and let out a guttural scream out of pure frustration.
But Barty never fought his urges.
“For fuck’s sake!” He screeched. “How many sodding times do you need me to say it: we - are - not - to - geth - er!” He shouted at Evan, emphasising each syllable with a stomp of his foot. 
Evan smirked and shared a look with Dorcas before rolling his eyes.
“Sure. And what exactly is this?” He asked, gesturing with his book at your tangled forms.
Okay, so maybe you and Barty were physically affectionate with each other - but that didn’t mean anything.
“What?” Barty asked simply.
“The way you’re sitting, Junior.” Dorcas drawled in a bored tone.
You both looked at each other like you were only just now realising your proximity to each other. 
You were positioned on the cushion of the sofa between Barty’s thighs with his arms wrapped around you and his hands weaselled under your shirt and tucked under your breasts.
What?
It was for warmth; he has terrible circulation, you know.
“We always sit like this.” You replied.
Evan scoffed. “You always sit like you’re one sneeze away from having his dick slip inside of you?”
“Okay, you know what?” Barty said, slipping his hands out from your shirt and patting your thighs to say ‘get up’, and standing up behind you. “I didn’t come here to be spoken to like this, least of all by someone who has his head shoved so far up his arse that he could check for tonsillitis.”
Evan shut his book he’d been pretending to read up until that point causing Barty to screech and shout at you to ‘save yourself’ as the two of you took off in the direction of his dorm room. 
You were laughing and breathless by the time you made it into Barty’s room and he shut the door behind you, casting a locking charm for good measure should Evan come looking for retribution for the slander.
“Honestly, I think they’re just jealous.” You said breathlessly.
Barty nodded as he sucked in a few deep breaths himself. “I mean, it’s kind of sad he’s never had a best friend that he felt so comfortable with, you know?”
“Exactly!” 
“And I don’t know why everyone has to make it so sexual. Do you have great tits? Sure. But that’s not why I put my hands on them!”
“Of course.” You agreed readily. “And I mean, are we two of the hottest people to walk these fucking halls? Of course we are -”
“Absolutely.”
“- but that doesn’t mean we’re shagging!”
“Right!” Barty said with finality as he finally sat down on the chair at his desk. “I don’t know why they have to make everything so weird.”
“Me either.” You groaned as you fell backwards onto Barty’s bed and stared up at the green velvet bed curtains draped over the four poster bed. “They’re probably just jealous.” You repeated. “I mean, we would make a really hot couple; I’d want to be with us too.”
“You know, that’s exactly what I was just thinking.” Barty agreed quickly. “And if we were having sex, they’d bloody know it. It would be hot.”
“Gods, it really would be, wouldn't it?”
“Without a doubt; I’m great in bed, and you’re great at everything.” Barty said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“You know what.” You said as you sat up to face Barty. “It would be hot. Great sex comes from trust-”
“Check.”
“- communication,”
“Check.”
“Familiarity,”
“Duh.”
“Confidence.”
“Obviously.”
“We’d be sodding lucky to be shagging each other!” You proclaimed.
“I agree!” He responded. 
You both stared at each other; breathing slightly laboured having gotten yourselves so worked up pleading your cases (to no one, seeing as you were both clearly on the same page).
“Huh.” Barty said finally, giving your body a once over. “You know, maybe it is weird we haven’t fucked before.”
“Yeah.”
Your eyes met his green ones that held an intensity you’d not seen from him before.
“Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you wanna fuck?”
“Yeah.”
And like a flip had been switched, the two of you were launching yourselves at each other. 
No time was spent savouring touches or testing waters. It was all teeth clashing, tongues dancing, heavy breathing, and tearing each other’s clothes off.
It felt somehow both forbidden and oh so right.
You’d truly never thought about Barty like this; you really were just that comfortable with one another.
But as you pulled his shirt over his head and started fussing with his belt, a fire roared to life inside you screaming we should have been doing this the whole bloody time. 
You nearly tripped over the waistband of your trousers as Barty backed the two of you towards his bed where he sat on the edge.
You broke apart for air as he moved his sinful mouth down the expanse of your torso and took to marking up your breasts.
“Salazar they’re even better like this.” He murmured to himself before taking one of your nipples in his mouth whilst he pinched the other.
You ran your finger through his hair, an action you'd done many times before, but never like this.
You pulled at it roughly and brought his lips back to yours as you pushed him to lay back on his bed so you could straddle him.
“Merlin, Y/N. No foreplay?” He chuckled breathlessly as you gave his cock a few strokes and whispered a lubrication charm.
“Next time.” You sighed as you lined him up with your entrance and slowly sank down onto his cock, causing the two of you to moan in unison.
“Next time, huh?” Barty teased as he smoothed his hands up and down your sides, allowing the two of you to adjust to the feeling of one another before you experimentally rolled your hips.
“What? Don’t you want to fuck me, Junior?” You taunted right back.
Barty thrusted his hips up roughly into yours, causing you to cry out and place your hands on his shoulders to stabilise yourself. “I think it’s very obvious I want to fuck you.”
“Yeah?” You whispered, bringing your mouth back to his and biting gently on his bottom lip.
“Yeah.”
You breathed a laugh out through your nose before you bit down harder.
“Then fuck me.”
And before you could tell which way was up, Barty had flipped the two of you over so he now hovered over top of you and had his hand wrapped around your neck.
“You want to be fucked, doll?” He groaned as he hooked one of your legs around his hip allowing himself that much deeper in you.
If there was one thing you could thank the fucked up breeding habits of Purebloods for, it was apparently the size of their cocks. 
“You want me to ruin you?” He continued as he added more pressure to your throat, still grinding into your now sopping cunt. “Make sure no other wizard is ever good enough for you?”
Your entire body felt like it was on fire; the feeling when you’re sitting on the poolside in the sun after a swim; the beads of water only make the sun’s rays feel that much warmer against your skin.
“Oi.” He demanded, giving your cheek a chastising tap. “You gonna be good for me?” He asked more seriously this time.
His beautiful green eyes were nearly fully eclipsed by his pupils as he continued moving in and out of you with what you realised now was a very controlled pace. But you were eager to see where he’d go from here.
“I’ll be good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.” He ordered.
“I’ll be good.”
“What was that?”
“I’ll be good, Barty.” You whined, pulling at his arms in an attempt to bring him closer.
“Who are you going to be good for?”
“You.”
“Yeah?”
You hummed in agreement as he hiked up your other leg and wrapped it around his hip.
“Tell me.”
“I’ll be good for you! Promise. I’ll be so good for you, please.”
Barty chuckled and let out a taunting cooing sound as he fell to his elbows and brought his face to yours.
“There’s no need to beg, sweets.”
And just like that, he was pulling away from you again.
Suddenly, his hands were on your hips and he lifted them into the air, holding them there as he began slamming into you. 
“Gonna be so fucking good for me, aren’t you angel?” He grunted.
You scrunched your eyes shut at the feeling of his throbbing cock pounding into you; adjusting his angle every few thrusts in search of something.
“I bet you’re a fucking screamer, huh? You always got so much to say babygirl; don’t go quiet on me now.”
His fingers dug further into the fat of your hips as he adjusted his grip on you, causing you to let out an embarrassing keening sound.
Apparently that was close, but not quite what Barty had been looking for.
“Close. How about we try…”
And he pulled out of you completely before landing a hard smack against your pussy, forcing a surprised scream to tear from your throat. 
“There’s the pretty sounds I was looking for.” He celebrated, rubbing placating circles on your clit before repositioning himself and sinking back into you. “Think you can keep that up for me, Princess?”
“Yes!” You cried quickly, grabbing helplessly at the bedding as he once again lifted your hips up into the air, finding that sweet spot inside you that he’d been in search of before his interruption.
He knew he found his mark when you let out another strangled sob.
“Alright pretty girl, there we go, huh? Does that feel good?”
You were babbling affirmatives nonsensically as he groaned at the sensation of your walls clenching around him; yesses and pleases spilling from your lips.
“Fuck you feel so good.”
“Please Barty.” You cried, reaching a hand up to his wrist.
He let your hips fall to the bed as he brought one thumb to your clit and his other hand took yours in his.
“What is it, princess? Hm?”
“Please.” You whined, and it sounded pathetic even in your own ears in your current state.
But Barty only tsked and pulled two of your fingers into his mouth which he began to suck.
You could feel the tension building in your core as he quickened his pace with his thumb and his hips before letting your fingers go with a pop.
“I’ll take care of your princess, you know that. When have I ever let you down?”
Never.
“Never.”
He smiled triumphantly down at you; and though his mouth was cocky, his eyes were sincere. 
“Exactly. I’m not about to start now, yeah?”
And suddenly his thumb was gone from your clit, your ankles were thrown over his shoulders and he was leaning his weight against the backs of your thighs as he began thrusting into you with an air of desperation.
“Atta girl; so good, huh? S’good.” He grunted as his thrusts became somewhat sloppy. “S’fuckin’ good for me. Perfect for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes.” You chanted with each thrust of his hips. “Please, oh gods, please, please Barty.”
“I know, I know.” He grunted, clearly as close to teetering over some sort of edge as you were. “I know, I feel it. You’re alright, yeah? Go on, sweets; I’ve got you.”
And his hands were holding onto your thighs for dear life and he was kissing at your knee like even that silly little part of you was something worthy of worship, and he did have you and he never let you down and he wasn’t going to start now and you saw stars as you finally fell over the edge.
The room fell quiet as Barty locked his lips on yours, and you realised you’d been screaming. 
His hips stuttered as he thrust into you once, twice, three times more before he followed you over the edge; letting your legs fall from his shoulders as he fell to his elbows on top of you and the two of you fought to catch your breath.
In complete contrast to the Barty who was only moments ago pounding mercilessly into you, he started placing, slow, lingering, gentle kisses over your face as his thumbs rubbed idly at your temples.
He pressed a kiss to your neck, your jaw, the tip of your nose, over your eyelids, your forehead, your ear.
You knew Barty could have a soft side, but you never imagined it so tender.
“I knew you’d be a screamer.” He whispered, breaking you out of the serene moment and surprising a bark of laughter from you, which caused both of you to groan in discomfort before Barty slowly pulled out of you. 
“Stay here, princess.” He instructed as he walked away from the bed and returned a few moments later with a warm cloth and one of his (read: your favourite of his) t-shirts.
You watched him carefully as he cleaned you up - and once again, what probably should have felt awkward or embarrassing felt nothing but natural as he doted on you. 
“Can you sit up?” He asked; not one hint of condescension in his tone as he held the neckhole of his shirt open for you to slip your head into.
As it poked through, he pressed a kiss to your lips before helping to thread your arms in.
“Is it safe to assume we’ll be doing that again?” You asked with a smirk, causing him to scoff dramatically. 
“We’ll be doing that the rest of our lives if I have anything to say about it.”
After a shower and a change into comfies, the two of you returned to the common room, and though Dorcas was long gone, Evan could be found where the two of you had left him, now in the company of Regulus. 
“Well boys.” Barty sang dramatically as he swung his legs over the back of the sofa and landed on the seat with a bounce. “We just fucked.”
You rolled your eyes at his blatant goading as you sat beside him.
“Yeah? And I had potions today; so what?” Regulus muttered without looking up from his novel.
“What do you mean so what? This was the first time!” Barty argued.
“This is new.” You insisted severely.
“You know, I always knew Barty was a liar; but I expected better from you, Y/N.”
Your mouth dropped open as Regulus and Evan stood up and walked away from the seating area.
What you didn’t see as they walked towards the Slytherin dungeons was Regulus passing Evan five Galleons for their bet on who could convince the two of you to finally get over your “just friends” bit.
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callooopie · 2 months
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CALLOOOPIE‼️❗️‼️❗️‼️❗️‼️❗️‼️❗️
DROP A MODERN!CREGAN HEADCANON LIST. AND MY LIFE, IS YOURS. 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶
Modern!Cregan Stark headcannons (pt. 1)
Forgive my northern attitude, oh I was raised on little light — Northern Attitude // Noah Kahan
okay… we did not get much Cregan.. so these modern vibes might be a little off. I looked long and hard (🤨) at a photo of him and these were the vibes I conjured up.
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This man.. is so serious. Whenever you look at Cregan he looks like he’s going to pop a blood vessel with how tense he is. He’ll tell you not to worry, this is his natural state (“natural state?!?!”) you don’t think you’ve ever seen him relaxed… although there are times he lets loose, it’s reserved and calm. If he does relax it’s still oddly tense or as if he’s on edge. He’s mastered the art of being both chill but perceptive of his surroundings to a headache inducing degree. “Hm? Yeah I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, honest. One of us needs to be alert here.”
Immediately dipped after college. He got his degree in environmental engineering, he’s out of there. You, Jace, and Davos once planned a summer trip to Cregan’s cabin way up north. Now, way up north? Think like the Yukon or the bush of Alaska—that’s where Cregan would make his home. It’s secluded, no one bothers him, and he can live off the land in relative peace. You three get lost, of course. It’s like you have to take a seaplane, and then hike for a bit to the nearest town, and then you’ll have to wait for him to pick you all up. “You guys kept running around town. It took me forever to find you. Texts? I don’t get those traveling from the cabin… oh well—you’re all here now. The air will do you idiots some good.”
Dog dad. Dog dad. Dog dad. Cregan’s got big dogs, he’s got little dogs. A livestock dog to care for his chickens, some other big dogs for hunting, and a lap dog for emotional support purposes. It’s a hearty mix of Labrador, Pyrenees, mountain dog, maybe even a shepherd of sorts. But the little dog? I feel like it’d either be a dachshund or a corgi. A corgi is a reliable herd dog on top of being just a little guy. But a dachshund would be something he would hold as he walked around the perimeter of his land. Or even better he would have both. But this is his herd, his squad. “Hey!—settle down everyone. Sit down.. down now! Sorry about them, they’re just excited to see you. They’re usually pretty lax, except around you it seems.”
Terrible driver. But not because he’s bad at it, but because he’s literally in the wilderness, there are no traffic laws to obey. He’s driving down a hill full speed no braking. You’re in the passenger seat holding on for dear life as the car literally shakes and jolts you around. But Cregan? He’ll be holding a simple conversation with you, voice not even shaking from the sudden movements of the jeep or truck as he navigates the country road. I cannot figure out if he has more truck vibes or more Jeep vibes. I feel like either would work—as long as they got the job done. And either way, both cars would be muddied and somewhat damaged—filled with survival gear, winter gear, more things tied down on top with bungie cords and hooks. “What do you need? Oh, yeah that should be in the back.. somewhere. Probably in one of the bags—lemme go check for you. Hang tight, be right back.”
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This man fishes. Not like “leaving my bitch wife to go fishin’ with my boys” more like “I’m catching the radioactive catfish of Chernobyl and no one’s stopping me” type fishing. He gets into it, he goes crazy. Cregan’s out on a boat at sea looking for Cthulhu. Y’all know the show River Monsters? That’s Cregan’s type of fishing. Sure he does more ‘relaxed’ fishing once in a while, he enjoys the mix of adventure but also the quiet and the patience of the fish. He will talk about how beautiful the fish is, like Steve Irwin levels of talking to fish (and animals in general). Cregan’s a catch and release king, but if he does choose to use the fish he will use all of it from the head to the bones. Everything’s getting used and processed into something. “Let’s see what you caught.. oh nice, that’s a chinook salmon. A beauty too, look at the size of that thing. You caught that beast yourself without my help? It’ll taste better on an open fire, c’mon I’ll teach you how to gut it… don’t frown at me.”
Master chef I would think. It’s not Michelin star cooking, but cooking with the freshest ingredients possible? Cregan makes a mean salad from the veggies in his garden (a pretty big garden too, he built those wooden garden beds himself) and when he hunts he uses all the meat and bones from the animal as said before with the fish. He’s not overly hunting either, he gets enough for you and him to last a while. “Good harvest today, real good—everything was ripe and ready. What do you think? It all looks good? ..that’s.. that’s good. I’m glad.. save room for dessert too then. Have you ever had acorn cake?”
You know what? He’s a park ranger. Or a state ranger. He’s got a job where he can take care of the land and teach people about the environment and how to respect it. Cregan’s all about teaching little kids what plants are poisonous and then on the next call he’s busting folks for throwing litter into a river. He is the type that if he spots you maybe hiking or doing something while he’s on duty he will pretend to bust you over for something heinous or embarrassing. Bonus if there’s people around you, now you’re getting arrested for leaving a dildo attached to a tree. But usually? It’s silly reasons laced with compliments that make you blush or smile. “..Whatcha doing out here? Hiking? Suuure. Y’know we heard some reports about a.. a very um—beautiful person wandering looking lost.. just saying, I know my way around..”
Such a good listener. Cregan is for the people who just need an ear to listen to them. If something’s bothering you, upsetting you, or you’re just not feeling like yourself; he’ll lead you out to the back porch, gesturing for you to sit down on the step beside him. It’ll be quiet, except for the sounds of nature surrounding the cabin and the woods. You can see mountain ranges in the background, the midnight sun casting a hazy glow over the land. And the next thing you know is you’re pouring your heart out to him. Cregan would remain silent, unless you ask him for advice or support. He’s the type to not want to impose on you if you don’t wish to hear unsolicited opinions or comments on a matter—so you’ll need to tell him you want to hear his advice.
Busted ass cabin. It’s so good. There’s a nearby lake, there’s mountains in the distance. The woods are thick and beautiful. The people yearn for such a place. It’s such a relaxed vibe too, take off your shoes in the house though. There is a lot of cleaning that goes on however on account of the dogs around the home. But the cabin is lived in and homey. It’s cool and refreshing in the summers with the windows open, and it’s warm and cozy in the winters with the fireplace roaring. It’s not too big, but it’s not too cramped either. “Not too warm? Too cold maybe? …well if you’re cold there’s a good way to fix that—“
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Cregan loves teaching you how to live off the land. It’s basically a part of what he does for his job. But with just you? It feels more special, more intimate. You’re eager to learn, and he’s more than happy to show you how to start a fire in an emergency, how to skin an animal and use all its parts for different things. What to do if you’re in a bind in the woods and what you should do first. It’s good advice honestly. Pure survival skills. His hands would be over yours, guiding them through the motions of something. His chin resting atop your head or on your shoulder as he explains each step or how something can be utilized to its fullest potential.
Don’t take his silence or his lack of reactions as something negative. Cregan’s just the type to silently revel in your presence first and foremost, no talking required. Most of your fishing or hunting trips are filled with silence, save for the sound of music from an old portable radio and the occasional sound of a beer can opening. Sometimes you read, sometimes you fish alongside him. But know that he does enjoy your company heavily, and if you do say something don’t worry he’ll respond. Sometimes he does worry maybe he’s a little too aloof or reserved when it comes to you. Reassure him that words aren’t always needed, and sometimes it’s good to just be next to one another without adding anything to it.
With you he can get a little silly. Cregan would lean against your side of the truck, a stupid smile on his face as you talk to him. If you’re hiking and there’s a muddy spot, he will pick you up and carry you over it. He’s the type to serve you food first before him, and if he’s having a snack he’s the type to share it without needing you to ask him. It’s like the phrase to be loved is to be seen. Fresh flowers for you every day, he wakes up early to make you coffee in bed. If you’re the squeamish type about hunting/fishing, he won’t go into the details of your dinner. And if you’re with him, he’ll take care of the food far off from you so you don’t need to see it.
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shitsndgiggs · 1 month
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Hiiiiii, could you maybe do something with like Jobe, where like he and reader are cuddling and shit, and then Jude is just like that embarrassing older brother who decides he needs his little brother, and Jobe is just like 'bro, are you fr rn, YOU'RE INTERRUPTING'
If so thank youuu<3 have a nice day/night
OLDER BROTHER ANTICS - JOBE BELLINGHAM
Just Jude interrupting your moment with Jobe
Jobe Bellingham x fem! reader
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︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿
I'm cozied up on the couch with Jobe, basking in the warmth of his embrace. His kisses are gentle, his hands are tender, and everything feels perfect as I lean into him, completely absorbed in our little world.
Just as Jobe’s lips find mine again, a loud, exaggerated cough breaks through our peaceful moment.
I pull back, blinking in surprise as Jude, Jobe’s older brother, stands in the doorway with a smirk that’s clearly up to no good. “Ahem! Care to remember that there’s a whole world out here besides your, um, ‘romantic interlude’?”
Jobe’s eyes narrow in annoyance as he pulls away slightly. “Seriously, Jude? Can you not see that we’re busy here?”
Jude saunters into the room, clearly reveling in his role as the annoying older brother. “Busy? Oh, you mean you’re just, what, setting new records for public displays of affection? I thought I’d come in and remind you that you’re not the only people in the house.”
Jobe’s frustration is palpable. “Dude, can you just—”
But Jude isn’t done. He continues, clearly enjoying himself. “—You know, it’s not like I have anything better to do than listen to you two moan and groan all evening. Have you considered that maybe some of us have lives outside of this sappy little bubble?”
I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Jobe’s irritation is visible, but his brother’s antics are oddly endearing.
Jobe shakes his head, letting out a long, exasperated sigh. “Okay, Jude, enough. I love you as my brother and all, but right now, I’m really not in the mood for your commentary.”
Jude, still grinning, seems unfazed. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you to your... uh, quality time.” He heads toward the door but keeps talking over his shoulder. “Just remember, there’s more to life than just this. Maybe go outside or something, get some fresh air!”
As Jude finally exits, still chuckling to himself, Jobe turns to me with a mix of relief and determination.
He grabs my hands, his eyes sparkling with a mix of frustration and mischief. “You know what? Let’s just get out of here. I think we could both use a break from my brother’s endless commentary.”
Before I can respond, Jobe is already leading me toward the door, his grip warm and reassuring. “How about a drive? We can leave all the interruptions behind and just... be somewhere else for a bit.”
I nod, smiling up at him. “That sounds perfect.”
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ichorai · 10 months
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airbag ; steve rogers.
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track one of OK COMPUTER.
pairing ; steve rogers x reader (gender-neutral)
synopsis ; five time steve tries to propose to you, and one time he actually does.
words ; 4.3k
themes ; fluff, mild angst, kind of avengers tower au?
warnings / includes ; mentions/descriptions of injury, alcohol, lots of lovesick fluff, rest of avengers are mentioned, natasha and tony Meddling, reference to spider-man & sandman :)
main masterlist.
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Steve considered himself a romantic of sorts. Call him old-fashioned, but he liked bringing you flowers, he liked taking you to the theater, and he liked walking you home—all the way up to your door and listening for the lock, so he knew you’d be safe in there. 
It was only fitting how cliché it felt when he realized he was in love with you. Firework-igniting kisses and butterfly-filled tummies and face-splitting grins. Everything described in those movies you enjoyed watching—but so much more.
Steve Rogers wasn’t a man to waste time. After all—enough of that had been done while he was frozen in the ice. If he was going to start something, then he was most definitely going to go all the way and finish it, too. 
Almost immediately after your first anniversary, he bought a ring. It was simple and classic, maybe a bit out of style but hey, you seemed to be into that. You were dating a century-year-old. 
It was December then, soft snow lining the streets and piling upon naked tree branches. During the drive to the fancy restaurant he’d found (courtesy of Tony), there were children building snowmen and sledding down shallow hills. You smiled watching them, eyes rife with fond warmth, and Steve knew then that he had to do it. He had to propose to you tonight. 
Inside, you wouldn’t stop telling him how underdressed you felt, but Steve reassured you by saying a simple, “You look perfect, I promise.”
And he wasn’t lying. You did look perfect to him.
Dinner consisted of several decadent courses, with the waiters serving platters the two of you could barely even pronounce. It was delicious, nonetheless, and the chef had even come by to shake the hand of the Captain America.
During the last course—a silken slice of chocolate cake for dessert—Steve slipped his hand into his suit’s pocket, the velvet box smooth beneath his fingers. He replayed the question over and over again in his head, rehearsed a million times prior to the dinner.
Will you marry me?
And just as he was about to pull the ring box out, another diner pushed his chair back just far enough to accidentally knock into a waiter passing by, holding a plate of spaghetti. Completely sauced, to top.
To Steve’s horror, the plate tipped, almost in slow motion, and fell with a wet, splattering noise all over your outfit. You’d let out a small yelp of surprise, the spaghetti was hot, but not enough to burn. Steve stood up a second too late, hand falling away from his pocket as he rounded the table and placed it on your shoulder, asking if you were okay. 
“I’m okay,” you told him gently, reaching over to grab a few napkins at the center of your table.
You didn’t get mad, of course you didn’t—it was part of the reason Steve loved you so much—instead, you were kind and patient, reassuring the flustered waiter that it was alright. “Mistakes happen,” you said. Another waiter came by a few minutes later with a few damp cloths so you could wipe the rest of the spaghetti sauce off.
Needless to say, the chef insisted that the meal was on the house that night, much to Steve’s chagrin.
The drive back home smelled of marinara sauce and oregano, but the heavy weight in his chest at the failed proposal seemed to lighten when you joked about how the five course meal ended up being six.
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Natasha knew about the ring. Steve wasn’t quite sure how—he’d never explicitly told her—but then again, he wasn’t surprised. Nat seemed to always just know things from the smallest of details. It was why she made such a brilliant spy.
“So,” she’d said once she stumbled across from Steve in the Avenger Tower’s lavish gym, a sly grin stretching over her lips, “when are you popping the question?”
There was a pause to his movements—the dumbbell he’d been curling hovered in the air, his muscles tensing. He thought about it for a little longer, considering asking her how she knew but—he seemed to sense that Natasha would wave it away with a laugh and a light, “A magician never reveals her secrets.”
Instead, he told the red-head, “I’m working on it.” 
Natasha leaned against a treadmill, arms crossing over her chest. The smile on her face seemed to grow even wider. “Uh-huh. How long have you had the ring?”
Steve resumed doing his reps. The burn felt nice, even if it was only barely there. “Long enough.”
There was a soft tenderness to Natasha’s eyes, and she bumped a fist into his bicep. “Take Y/N hiking. Far away from the city, where it’s quiet.”
Again, Steve paused his exercise. Slow, he put the weights down, thinking over her words. 
“That’s actually—that’s a good idea, Nat.”
“Of course it is.” There was a knowing glint in her eyes.
“Thanks, really. I just want things to be perfect.”
She dipped her head once, before climbing onto the treadmill. “Send pictures. I’ve got a bet going on—Clint would want proof.”
Steve spared her an amused roll of his eyes. With a wave and a hurried goodbye, Steve rushed out of the gym to take a quick shower. The weather app on his phone (that he took an embarrassingly long time to find) told him the skies were going to be clear that afternoon—perfect for hiking.
Maybe, hopefully, perfect for proposals.
Half an hour later, you were ready to go, too, bouncing on the balls of your feet excitedly.
“I packed us sandwiches.”
“Did you? Oh, great—thanks, honey. We could have them as an early dinner.” He rubbed your shoulder and nudged you into the car. 
“I packed a bunch of snacks, too.”
Steve arched a brow. “Like?”
“Gummy worms, popcorn, chips, cookies. Oh, and Wanda actually made something for us, I’m not really sure what it is, but it smelled nice—”
Your words died away when Steve laughed, loud and chesty. Of course you’d pack just about the entire pantry. How you managed to stuff all of that into your travel backpack with room to spare was beyond him. You couldn’t help but break out into an infectious smile when he leaned forward to kiss you on the forehead. 
The drive out of the city to the hiking trail was long, and you nearly dozed off if not for the road getting progressively bumpier the closer you got. 
The sun was high in the sky by the time you arrived. You slipped out of the car with a pleased hum and stretched out your limbs, ready to get the hike over and done with. You might’ve been dating a superhuman, but you had no powers of your own. The pressure to keep up was something always in the back of your mind.
And that’s how the hike went—you were determined to stay on par with Steve, no matter how grueling the terrain became. Even when he suggested a break to have some of the many snacks you’d packed, you tossed him your bag and kept trekking on—you were worried that if you stopped, you would never get back up again. 
Really, you shouldn’t have overexerted yourself this quickly—the two of you were barely halfway done with the trail. Your feet were starting to drag, and your pace grew staggered. Just as you turned around to face your boyfriend and ask for a breather, your foot caught on a tree root that poked up above the trail’s surface, and you stumbled forward. 
Thankfully, Steve’s quick reflexes came in handy, and he darted forward to grab you before you could go rolling down the steep hills. 
He tugged you close into his chest, not yet registering your wince of pain. “Are you okay? That was a close one!”
When you pulled away, you gingerly tried to test your wait on the foot, but quickly lifted it back up with a grimace. “Oh, God. I think I’ve rolled my ankle.”
Steve stiffened, glancing further up the trail. It was maybe another two hours, but that was only with two fully-functioning pairs of legs. 
The proposal would have to wait another day, then.
He cupped your face, soft and gentle. “Wrap your arms around my neck from behind. I’ll carry you down to the car.”
“You sure, Stevie? I can try hopping down on one foot.” You tried to demonstrate, but nearly lost your balance again. All the jostling sent bolts of pain down your foot, which surely wasn’t a good sign, either.
He snorted, huff-laughing, other hand slipping over your waist to keep you still. “I’m sure. Come on.” He leaned down expectantly.
Relenting, you wrapped your arms over his shoulders and hooked the inside of your thighs over his waist, careful to keep your injured foot extended so it wouldn’t bump into him. It was beginning to throb.
“‘M sorry,” you mumbled, resting your cheek over his shoulder, one of your hands lifting to toy with his short, blonde hair. He began to walk down, and you tried your best to ignore the pain in your ankle. “Ruined our hiking trip. I was so excited.”
“It’s okay, honey. It was an accident! We can always go another time. Maybe a different trail, though.”
You apologized again, the whole way down, in fact, despite his assurances that he wasn’t at all tired. He really wasn’t—barely broke a sweat during the descent. Besides, he quite liked the feeling of your holding so tight onto him, your nose pressed into the side of his neck, your soft laughter brushing over his skin in one moment, your slight winces in the next. 
“I love you,” you whispered, lips brushing the shell of his ear.
He felt a shiver traverse down his back, and briefly wondered if you felt it, too.
“I love you, too. That tickles, though.”
Your laugh was abrupt and ever so heart-warming. “Sorry.”
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The movie, you’d told him, was a cult classic from the seventies. Steve couldn’t really remember what it was called. Callie? Cassie? It was an awful lot of blood. The arm he had wound over your shoulder squeezed you every time someone screamed in the film—which was… startlingly often. 
Proposing in the middle of a gorey movie wasn’t exactly the romantic vision Steve had in mind, but since the previous attempts really didn’t work in his favor, he wondered if keeping it casual was the best way to go. So when you asked if he could come over for an abrupt movie night, he readily agreed—and brought the small, velvet ring box with him.
It was tucked safely in the pocket of his slacks, on the side you weren’t pressed up against. The weight was a constant reminder of what he wanted to ask you—occupying his mind away from the movie he should’ve been paying attention to.
He’d propose once the credits started rolling. Yes, that’d be best, right? Wouldn’t want a horrified scream interrupting his profession of undying love to you.
And so he watched. He watched and watched, absentmindedly wondering what on earth the movie was even about. He dragged his knuckles up and down your arm. When a particularly gruesome scene unfolded, Steve glanced over at you. 
To his surprise, your features were softened with sleep, only barely illuminated by the crimson glow from the television, your lips slightly parted and eyes shut. 
With gentle movements, Steve reached over to guide your head onto his shoulder. Your hair tickled his cheek, and he let out a soft puff of a sigh before smiling. He kissed your temple, nose resting over your forehead. 
The proposal would have to wait another day.
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Tony’s parties were always an affair that Steve looked forward to. He wasn’t a party-goer by any means, but he found that the grand events were a great way for him to catch up with all his colleagues, acquaintances, and work associates he otherwise wouldn’t have spoken to for months to come. 
And, of course, your excitement always seemed to rub off on him. You were buzzing about the room with what looked like twenty different outfits hanging off of your arms, holding them between you and the mirror with a scrutinizing look.
“Tucked or untucked?” you asked, more to yourself than him. He wasn’t given the chance to respond, anyway, since you chucked the shirt somewhere behind you and promptly started looking for another.
When you’d finally settled for appropriately formal attire, and Steve slipped into a button-up dress shirt (which was his one and only option, much to your envy), the two of you set off for Tony’s.
The party was already in full swing by the time you got there. Steve wasn’t entirely sure what the event was for—an anniversary or birthday, maybe? Fundraising gala? A celebration of some sort of scientific breakthrough Steve couldn’t even begin to comprehend? It was always a toss-up with Tony.
You were greeting people here and there, stopping to chatter amicably about what you’ve been up to, how work was going, the latest shows you’ve been catching up with…
And then you kissed his cheek and told him you were going to go grab some drinks. Steve watched you go with fond eyes. You looked incredible tonight. 
A hand on his shoulder jolted him out of his reverie, and Tony Stark’s smug face came into view. 
“Enjoying the party?” he asked, sly and knowing. What did he know?
“Hey, Tony. We only just got here. What’s all this for, by the way?” Steve crossed his arms and glanced around for any telltale signs.
A smirk flitted across his expression. “Just thought we all needed a bit of social activity pumped into the team. It’s a great place to… get your courage up, hm?” Tony smiled, and Steve narrowed his eyes.
“Did Natasha tell you?”
Tony snorted. “We all know.”
“Great.” Steve slid his hand into his pocket and traced the smooth grooves of the ring box. “Is everyone expecting me to propose tonight?”
“No, pfft—we don’t want to pressure you or anything…” Tony pointedly glanced at a stage conveniently placed front and center of the room. “But if you need some, what should I call it… assistance, the stage is all yours to use.”
Steve balked. Proposing at a party was one thing, but proposing on a stage in front of hundreds of people was completely out of the question. 
Or was it? 
“I’m not going to propose on a stage. That’s more your style.”
With a shrug, Tony rolled his eyes. “I mean, Pepper hasn’t left me yet, has she?”
Steve chose not to grace him with a response, but frown-smiled when Tony grabbed a flute of champagne and shoved it into his hands. He was gone the next second, off to greet a new round of guests. 
Thirty seconds later, you appeared by his side, positively beaming, but slightly out of breath. There were two chilled glasses clutched in your hands, almost sloshing over with how quickly you bounded to him.
“Oh, you already got a drink?” you asked, grinning. You clinked both glasses against his, chiming, “Cheers!”
And as you were downing the sugary alcohol in your right hand, Steve ran a finger along the ring box again. 
Maybe… maybe it really wasn’t a bad idea. He looked back at the stage. There was a microphone stand on there. Has it been there since the beginning?
He turned his head back to you, and you told him about Banner inviting the two of you over for dinner some time. Just as he was about to reply, his phone started buzzing in his other pocket. Deftly, Steve slipped his hand away from the box and went to pick up the phone—Sam’s caller ID staring up at him.
His friend’s voice sounded strained through the phone, and Steve gripped your hand and led you to a more quiet hallway, away from the crowd and the thrum of music. 
Sam hurriedly told him that there was trouble downtown—something about Spider-Man and a very sandy guy. 
“Sandy?” 
“Yeah. Dude’s made of sand.”
“Oh.” Steve paused, brows furrowing. “I’ll be there in twenty. Can you keep it together till then?”
“Don’t have another choice, do I, Cap?” 
With that, Sam hung up. Steve looked to you, crestfallen.
“Honey, I gotta go.” 
Your voice was light and airy, despite your slightly crestfallen and confused countenance. “Sam’s in trouble?”
“Yeah. I’ll—” There was an uncertain pause. Steve leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you at home. I love you.”
Your brows pulled together. “I love you, too. Stay safe, Steve.”
It was something you just had to accustom yourself to—when your boyfriend was a superhero, his priorities encompassed far more than you. But you understood, as you always did, and let him hurry away with a stiff lip. 
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The hospital was packed. Claustrophobically dense. You hurriedly wove through the crowd of anxious people hovering around the information desk, having already gotten the text which room Steve was in.
A few twisting hallways later, you pushed through a door and just about collapsed with relief when your eyes landed on Steve. 
He was badly bruised. Hues of deep purple and faint blues were blossomed all over his face. One of his eyes was swollen, his sandy-blonde hair was tousled, and his bottom lip was split. He was wearing a hospital gown, and you felt nauseated wondering just what other injuries he was hiding beneath the fabric. 
But he was alive. That was the least you’d hoped for.
Tears pricked your eyes, and you only then registered that Bucky was there, standing by the bed, expression grim and steeled. His blue eyes darted away from his best friend’s face to meet yours.
“I’ll give you two some space,” he murmured with a tight edge to his voice. Bucky patted your shoulder and whisked off before you could say anything. 
“Steve?” you croaked, drawing nearer to the bed. Your throat felt tight. “Oh, God…”
Despite his entire face aching, Steve managed to tug one of the corners of his lips up into a meager smile. “Hey, honey.”
His voice sounded hoarse and overused, but was still utter music to your ears. You just about collapsed onto the side of the bed, reaching out to gently brush the back of your shaking knuckles over what little of his face wasn’t bruised.
“I heard what happened on the news,” came your tearful whisper. “I was so worried you…”
Something softened within the blue of his eyes. “I’m still here.”
You dipped forward to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and his tired eyes slid shut. 
“Has a doctor checked on you yet? Any permanent damage I have to look out for?” You pulled away so you could roam your eyes over his form once more.
“Just a few bruises. Bone fractures. Nothing I can’t recover from,” he replied, though he winced when he tried to shift and sit more upright. You placed a hand on his back and helped him move, cautiously slow.
“Take it easy, old man,” you warned. “Don’t want you to pop a hip.”
Steve wheezed out what seemed like a laugh. Then, his eyes darted to the bedside table, where some spare clothes were neatly packed in a bag. Bucky had brought them, making sure to hide the ring box safely underneath a few layers.
Should he? Now, when he had the chance?
“I have something to ask you…” he began, tentative, dragging his eyes back onto you. You tilted your head pointedly, beckoning for him to go on. 
Just as he was about to say the words, there were three rapid knocks to the hospital room’s doors and they creaked open immediately after, two nurses shuffling in, clipboards in hand.
“Hello, just here to run a few more check-ups!” one of them chirped. “It’s not often we get a super admitted in here.”
Steve just about physically deflated. Your brows kinked, and you patted his cheek fondly.
“I’ll come by later—gonna go see if Sam is okay. You should rest, Stevie. Love you.” With one final kiss to his cheek, you got up from his bed and made space for the bustling nurses. He barely managed to lift his hand to wave you goodbye before you hurried out of the room, back into the packed hallways.
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A month had drifted by since he wound up in the hospital (and discharged the very next day). It was pleasantly breezy that day—gusts of wind tousling his now-overgrown hair and whistling sweetly in your ears. 
Steve bent at the waist to place the bouquet of flowers down in front of the headstone. If it were any windier, he was sure it would’ve blown away. But it stayed put, the petals only barely swaying to and fro, and he righted himself back up.
“Sarah Rogers,” you whispered, eyes trailing across the smooth grooves of her name indented into the slab, voice thick with fondness. “What did she look like?”
Your arm wounded over the small of his waist. The two of you had visited the cemetery a few months prior, where you helped him scrub all the moss and dirt from her headstone. He told you about many of his adventures with Bucky before his time frozen in the ice, but very little about his mother. 
A wistful smile touched the corner of his face. Now fully healed, much to your relief. 
“She was blonde. Blue eyes. Crow lines, I think. Really faint, but they appeared every time she laughed.” There was a nostalgic warmth to his tone. 
“Took after her, then.” You beamed down at the grave. “She must’ve been beautiful.”
Steve leaned into your grasp and kissed the very top of your head. “She was. She would’ve loved you, you know.”
“Yeah?”
“She would’ve thought you were perfect. She saw a lot of terrible things in her lifetime, but you—you would’ve made her laugh a lot.” A pause. The wind hummed a disjointed tune. “She always believed in me, even though she was terrified for me all the time. Worried herself sick. If only she knew I’d end up here…”
Your head landed on his bicep. “She knows. She knew from the very beginning.”
The blonde smiled at you again, and you couldn’t help but notice his crow lines, too. It was comforting to know that there was so much of his mother in him.
“You ready for lunch?”
“I’m starving.” you told him, before blowing a chaste kiss to the headstone. “See you soon, Mrs. Rogers.”
Steve began to lead you away, and he couldn’t seem to scratch the smile from his lips. The two of you started walking back home, taking your sweet time. You were saying something—something about a nice lasagna you had frozen in the fridge—
But Steve could barely hear any of it. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. He had to tell you now.
“I love you,” he interrupted. The words died on your tongue and you regarded him curiously, as if he’d grown a second head. 
Apparently, there was a near manic look to his eye that prompted you to worriedly query, “Is something wrong, Steve—?”
Instead of answering, Steve stopped walking. He dropped down onto one knee, brandishing the ring box from his pocket, flicking it open. The realization broke across your features just a second later. Your eyes widened, and you reared back in shock.
And the words—the words just came tumbling out. Not at all what he’d scripted for months on end, but something entirely different. Something raw and unfiltered—purely from his heart. “I love you, more than I can ever put into words. You’re just—amazing, perfect in every goddamn way. I don’t want to go another day without calling you mine. I want to be yours, honey. All of me, every single bit of me, with all of you. It’s been an honor being your boyfriend. Really, it has, but I’m… I’m ready to be your husband, if you’ll have me. Will you marry me?”
There were tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You were only but a streak of color before you were yanking him forward, practically burying his face against your chest. He didn’t care that there was a rock digging into his knee. Barely even felt it. 
The next moment, you were pulling away to yank him back up, kissing him like he was the very air you needed to breathe. 
“Is that a yes?” he asked against your lips, slightly muffled. He was smiling, because he already knew your answer.
You nodded into the kiss, refusing to pull away. “I’d marry you a million times over, Steve. Again and again and again, until you get sick of me.”
“Could never get sick of you,” he whispered, forehead leaning over yours. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
The two of you broke apart minutes later, reluctantly, though you had permanent smiles etched across your faces the entire way back home. The ring fit you perfectly.
When the news broke to the rest of the Avengers, they all erupted into an array of groans and cheers, and multiple wads of cash were passed around. Natasha sent the two of you a pleased wink. You two just landed her a combined total of a hundred bucks, but some secrets were simply better left unsaid.
767 notes · View notes
itneverendshere · 4 days
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lovee bartender!reader and rafe soo much, theyre daydream content fr!!! <3 if it takes your fancy, maybe a little piece where readers tired so she puts her pride away and does go to rafe for help (even if only for something very small) and hes just elated, ecstatic, all the words for it! that man is always so stressed, need him to have some peace LOL
she eventually becomes a little less headstrong about his help so this when she finally really understands that’s is okay to need someone else sometimes 🙂‍↕️🫂 thank you for the request! and also thank you for loving them too 🫶🏻
year dark night and now i see daylight - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)
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You wiped down the bar for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. 
The lights glinted off the glasses, making you squint. You were so tired. Your legs felt like they would give out at any moment, and the tension in your shoulders was making your neck ache, but there was no time to stop. 
There was never any time to stop.
You’d been running on fumes for days now—maybe weeks?—but who was counting? Not you, clearly. Because taking a break or slowing down?
That just wasn’t in your vocabulary. You were fine. You could handle it. You always handled it. You didn’t need help.
The headache you’d been ignoring was getting worse, though, creeping behind your eyes, making you blink more than usual. Your hands were shaky, and if you were being honest with yourself (which you rarely were these days), your body was running on empty. But still, there was work to do, and people needed drinks, and you weren’t about to let anyone think you couldn’t do your job.
You paused, gripping the edge of the bar a little tighter than necessary when the room seemed to tilt, just for a second. That was new. You sucked in a slow breath, trying to steady yourself. 
Nope. Not now. Can’t do this here. 
There was no way you were going to break down in the middle of your shift, in front of everyone. You’d tough it out like you always did.
“Hey!” Your co-worker voice cut through the pain, snapping you out of your thoughts. He was waving you over to another table where more customers had just sat down.
Perfect. More people. Just what you needed.
You forced your feet to move, pushing through the exhaustion as best you could. 
You felt that familiar wave of anxiety, your new best friend, but you shoved it down like always.
You could handle it. You had to. Because asking for help? Letting someone see you weren’t doing okay? That was never an option. Except…maybe this time, it was.
You hesitated behind the bar, staring blankly at the group that had just sat down. They could wait a minute, right? Just one minute to pull yourself together. You’d earned that, at least.
Before you knew it, your phone was in your hand, thumb hovering over one name in your contacts: Rafe.
You hated asking for help. He worried about you enough as it was, constantly telling you to slow down or take it easy. You usually brushed him off. But tonight…tonight felt different. You were running on nothing but pride and stubbornness at this point, and even that was starting to crack.
Swallowing hard, you hit Call.
It rang twice before you heard his voice. “Hey, baby, what’s up?” Rafe sounded surprised—probably because you never called him when you were working. You could hear the concern creeping in already.
You squeezed your eyes shut, hating how vulnerable you felt just by calling him. “Can you—uh, can you come pick me up? I’m kinda…done.”
There was a beat of silence on the other end, like he was processing the fact that you, of all people, were asking for help. When he spoke again, his voice was almost relieved. “Yeah, ‘course. I’ll be there in ten. Don’t move, okay?”
You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, the tight knot in your chest loosening just a little.
Hanging up, you slumped against the counter, finally letting yourself breathe. Ten minutes. You could make it ten more minutes.
Rafe arrived faster than you expected, his tall frame pushing through the double doors of the club. His eyes locked onto you immediately, and the second he saw you, his tough guy expression dropped. You didn’t realize how close you were to falling apart until you saw the way he was looking at you. 
“You okay?” he asked, crossing the bar in a few quick strides, his hand already reaching for yours.
For once, you didn’t brush him off with a quick “I’m fine.” You just shook your head, letting out a shaky breath. “Not really.”
He didn’t say anything right away, just pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in that way that made you feel safe, like it was okay to just not be strong for a second. You hadn’t noticed how badly you needed this—how badly you needed him—until now. Rafe’s chin rested against the top of your head, and you could feel his heart beating under your cheek.
When you finally pulled back, he didn’t let go right away, his blue eyes searching your face. His brow furrowed as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing softly along your cheek. You must’ve looked worse than you thought because the worry in his eyes was impossible to miss.
“You really weren’t kidding about being done, huh?” His voice was gentle, but you could hear the hint of frustration in it. Not at you, but at the fact that you’d been pushing yourself this hard without saying anything sooner.
You gave him a weak smile, trying to shrug it off. “Yeah, I guess I went a little overboard this week. But I’m fine now. You’re here.”
He sighed, shaking his head but pulling you closer again, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your lower back, “You’re gonna give me a heart-attack before thirty.”
You bit your lip, that familiar guilt settling in your chest. You knew he was right. You knew he worried all the time, every single day. But admitting you needed help—especially to him—took a lot of energy, like ripping away the last bit of control you had. And control was how you survived. How you kept everything in check.
He wasn’t going to think less of you for it. If anything, he looked elated that you’d let him in, that you trusted him enough to ask. You nodded, feeling the tears start to prick the back of your eyes. “I know. I just—” You broke off, not really knowing how to explain it. “I keep doing this. I’m sorry.”
“I got you,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “Let’s get you home.”
The quiet of the truck felt like a much-needed break from everything, the engine lulling you into something close to sleep. You hadn’t realized just how tense you were until now, with the night air coming through the window and Rafe’s hand resting on your thigh, his thumb tracing lazy circles against your skin.
You leaned your head back against the seat, watching the headlights of passing cars flash by. It felt weird to not be constantly thinking about what came next, what else needed to get done, or how much work you still had to finish. For once, it was like your brain was actually giving you a break, like it was saying, “Yeah, okay, you can relax now. You’re not alone.”
You glanced over at Rafe, his jaw set in concentration as he drove, but the way his fingers held onto you so gently told you everything. He hadn’t said much since you left the club, but you didn’t need him to.
“Are you hungry?” 
You blinked, realizing you hadn’t even thought about food. You weren’t really sure if you were hungry or just exhausted. “Not really,” you admitted. “I just wanna get home.”
Rafe nodded, giving your leg a gentle squeeze. “Okay. Almost there.”
You let out a breath, grateful that he didn’t push. He never did. It was one of the reasons being with him felt so easy, even when everything else in your life felt overwhelming. He never tried to fix things for you, never made you feel like you were weak for needing help. He just showed up—every time.
The minutes passed, and before you knew it, you were pulling up to his place. The sight of his house—your second home at this point—made your anxiety loosen even more. You didn’t have to do anything here. No one needed you to be “on.” You could just…exist.
“You good?” he asked, offering his hand to help you out.
“Yeah, I’m good,” you mumbled, though your body still felt like it might give out if you let yourself relax too much. You took his hand anyway, letting him help you down.
Once you were inside, you kicked off your shoes and practically collapsed onto the couch, feeling the cushions sink under you like they were the softest thing in the world. You pulled your knees up, wrapping your arms around them as Rafe moved around the room, grabbing a blanket and tossing it over you before sitting down next to you, close but not smothering.
He knew exactly how to handle you—how to be there without overwhelming you. He just sat there, his arm slung over the back of the couch, waiting for you to speak or not speak, whatever you needed. And that’s when it hit you how lucky you were to have him.
“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, not really sure why the words came out, but feeling like you had to say something.
Rafe frowned, his hand brushing over your shoulder. “For what?”
“For… I don’t know. For not telling you sooner that I was struggling. For always acting like I can handle everything when I clearly can’t.”
He shook his head, giving you that soft smile that made you feel like the most important person in the world. “You don’t have to apologize for that, baby. I know you. You you don’t have to be perfect all the time.”
You bit your lip, “I just don’t want to feel like I’m dumping all my shit on you.”
Rafe leaned in a little closer, his hand now resting on your knee. “You’re not dumping anything on me. We’re in this together. I love you, and I want to be there for you. You don’t have to do this alone.”
Your heart fluttered at his words, but this time it wasn’t from stress. It was from the realization that he was right.
He’d always been right and you knew it, it just took you months to process it.
You exhaled, leaning your head against his shoulder, “I love you too,” you whispered, the words feeling more powerful now, more real.
Because this wasn’t just love. This was trust.
He kissed the top of your head, his fingers gently running through your hair as he pulled you closer. He wasn’t frustrated or upset. He was just there, in that patient way that made you fall for him in the first place.
"You’re really too good to me, you know that?" you said softly, tracing your finger over the back of his hand.
He shook his head. “Nah, you deserve it. Besides, it’s not like you make it easy for me to help.”
He said it teasingly, but there was truth in his words. You knew you had a habit of trying to do everything on your own, shutting people out when you felt overwhelmed.
You looked down, feeling a little sheepish. "Yeah, I know. I’m working on it."
"Hey," he said, gently tilting your chin up so you were looking at him again. "I’m kidding. I’m here for you, okay?”
Your heart did that little flip thing it always did when he said stuff like that, like you couldn’t believe someone could love you that much, but at the same time, you knew it was true. 
“If I mess up again, just remind me that you said I don’t have to be perfect."
He chuckled, pulling you back into his arms. “You know, you’re probably gonna fall asleep on me right here.”
You smiled, your eyes already half-closed. “Maybe that’s the plan.”
You knew he was grinning without looking, feeling it he leaned down to kiss the top of your head again.
“Okay, but you’re definitely not getting out of taking care of yourself tomorrow. I’m making you pancakes in the morning. You’re eating, and you’re not gonna fight me on it.”
“Mmm, pancakes sound good,” you mumbled, already feeling the pull of sleep creeping in. “But only if you make the chocolate chip ones.”
“Deal.”
Wrapped up in his arms, the world outside of this little bubble didn’t feel so overwhelming anymore
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jordynbreeloa777 · 8 months
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”If you affirm to much, then that implies lack because if you really had your desires you wouldn’t be robotic affirming and persisting.” STATES VS AFFIRMATION RANT.
OKAY LMFAO whoever makes this up is getting on my nerves and I would love to have a conversation with them. Now why is y’all spreading these fake lies. AFFIRMING IS JUST TO REMIND YOURSELF OF WHAT YOU WANT. How does that imply lack? I think that implies very much lazy if you don’t even feel like persisting for what you want. If you want to only do states and “feel the feeling of your desire already here.” or maybe “feel what it’s like to be a millionaire.” Then go right ahead. But some people don’t like to try to force emotions and I think it’s often misunderstood because how am I suppose to feel what it’s like to be a millionaire when I been broke and poor my whole life. Let’s be fr. But to be in the state of acceptance, and having full certainty that your desires is already yours.
You can only do states and knowing your desires are yours, and sure no method. Whatever works, and is serving you go ahead but don’t bash people who do basic A+P because it works. We know it works freaking fast because affirming and persisting, plus saturation is the fastest way to impress your subconscious. Neville even said this, what ever you dwell on most manifest. Good or bad, so why not just think thoughts in your favor? It’s not like you can just stop thinking like it’s some sort of off switch. So stop bashing people who choose to a+p instead of just get in the state. Who told y’all that “dominant thoughts don’t manifest states do” because hold up. I literally manifested while crying, life was hell, angry, upset, spiraling, and I promise you I wasn’t in the state of wish fullfilled. It’s PERFECTLY FINE TO GET INTO THE STATE but fr stop demonizing, and downing people who use there time instead of letting circumstances take control they affirm and freaking persist! If the law is all about persistence why is the people who use states keep downgrading affirming.
“The law isn’t about respecting and affirming” it’s about just assuming, yeah but it’s also not something that needs to be done depending on what mood or “acceptance/satisfaction” state your in. I mean please cut it out. That’s literally some law of attraction with the “high vibration mess” which I won’t be apart of. Robotic affirmation works ! And it works freaking fast! If your more of an affirmation girlie then DO THAT! If your more of a “states” person then DOTHAT! But stop saying it’s stupid..please. Honestly EVERY METHOD WORKS! You literally just have to assume it does! Repetition with affirming works so stop making it seem like it doesn’t. Ever since I stopped worrying about “oh I need to be in the state” but instead just AFFIRIMING THAT IM IN THE STATE, I have been getting everything I want.
Say if I was manifesting beauty would I not be repeating everytime I see myself “I’m so pretty” would that not be your thoughts? Like really please watch this video because I’m done with the bashing affirming. If you don’t want to affirm when it’s literally your thoughts..
youtube
youtube
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youtube
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povlnfour · 10 months
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ PADDOCK TO PADDOCK FINAL PART
series masterlist | prev part
lando norris x f!horse rider!reader
authors note: for the purpose of this i need you to imagine lando flew straight back to monaco the monday after vegas and didn’t need to fly to abu dhabi till thursday night… thank u
lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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lando.jpg early birthday celebrations🇧🇷
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user3 CARLANDOOOO
user5 them going to brazil early just to hang out is so :(
user1 day 3 of the y/n drought and i just cried over a photo of her by a pool
user4 okay but who’s the third wheel….
user10 definitely y/n
landonorris it’s me they’ve rallied against me
carlossainz55 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by 508,199 people
carlossainz55 gracias são paulo, now onto the race☀️
👤 tagged yourusername
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user7 oh so lando wasn’t kidding about him being a third wheel😭
user15 CARLOS AND Y/N DRINKING TOGETHER AHAHAHA AM I SENSING A NEW DUO
user2 can’t wait for people to start rumours about them now xo
user5 carlando holiday with added y/n,,,, my dream🥹
user4 i know y/n’s phone is full of such cute carlando photos this break couldn’t have come at a worse time
y/nupdates just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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y/nupdates y/n at the paddock with lily today for the quali of the brazil grand prix!! someone said lando gave her the stitch plushie when they arrived and she’s not let it go🥹
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user1 she looks sO HAPPY
user14 lando getting to see her every day and still stalking her fanpages is so adorable to me
user4 he’s just like all of us fr
user8 i’m so sad she can’t be with him on his birthday :( you know she’d give us the cutest lan content
mclaren just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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mclaren not much to see here. just lando norris things👀🧡
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user4 LANDOOOO
user14 cause he had his good luck charm there😌
mclaren 👀 we’re going to miss her
user5 future wdc coming
user8 THE WAY HE KISSED Y/N WHEN HE GOT P2😭
texts with lando ੈ✩‧₊˚
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birthday texts with lando ੈ✩‧₊˚
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landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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landonorris thanks for all the birthday wishes🤙🏻 had lots of fun with cake, golf and very fitting gifts which my girlfriend enjoyed🕶️
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user2 THE GLASSES😭😭😭
user4 IN TEARS
user5 more carlando and y/nlando content😭😭😭😭 we are THRIVING this week
user12 you’re so cute🥹
alex_albon tell y/n she’s so welcome for the laughs
landonorris she also loved the cardboard cutout of you
y/nupdates just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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y/nupdates best of luck to both @/yourusername and @/landonorris who compete today in respective competitions🩷 neither had a particularly positive saturday so we’re hoping they can bounce back stronger than ever!
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user7 good luck guys🥹
user8 masterclasses incoming
user13 y/n looked so nervous yesterday i hope she’s okay
user1 i think she had watched the quali before her own qualifying because her interview she said she had been distracted all morning😭
landonorris 🧡
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texts with lando ੈ✩‧₊˚
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y/nupdates just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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y/nupdates SHE’S ONLY GONE AND DONE IT😭 in her final competition before the winter rest, @/yourusername surprised everyone after a rough saturday and took gold with TWO ALL CLEARS🥹🩷 so proud of our girl!!! now she gets to enjoy her rest
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user3 CRYING IM SO PROUD
user12 SHE DID SO WELL
user1 devastated over lando but SO HAPPY FOR Y/N
landonorris that’s my girl🧡
user4 HI KING HOPE UR OKAY
lilymhe THATS MY OLYMPIAN😎 BRING ON PARIS 2024
landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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landonorris not how we wanted it to go but thank you for all your messages of support🧡 maybe not the best day for me but it certainly was for my girl, proud as hell
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user4 THE PHOTO ON THE STRETCHER YOURE SO UNSERIOUS
carlossainz55 glad you’re okay mate❤️
user5 glad you’re okay lando :( so proud of you no matter what <3
user1 him including y/n on the post🥹 they’re so in love
yourusername you’ll be back🧡
landonorris my superstar
user2 Y/N COMING BACK ONLINE JUST TO COMMENT OH I LOVE THEM
texts with charles and lily ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚
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lilymhe just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚
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landonorris just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername happy belated birthday my love @/landonorris. no one deserves to be celebrated more than you, and i hope i get to do this for a long time in the future. biggest thanks to my co conspirators @/charles_leclerc and @/lilymhe for making this happen. the rumours and the drama were all worth it
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landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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landonorris and with that, the 2023 season comes to a close. it’s been a busy one, not the most perfect end race wise, but one i will always remember because of you — my true prize🧡 so excited to see what you can do going forward. paris 2024 is going to be yours
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—————
a/n: ANDDDD that’s it :’) semi anti climactic i know but i just enjoyed writing this and wanted it to have a simple soppy ending so
considering doing a mini epilogue to show their lives as it carries on? lmk if that’s something you’d like to see eek
back to one shots i go eeeek
- giselle xx
taglist: @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee
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damiansgoodgirll · 4 months
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hi lovely! first off i love your writing about damian so much! you’re one of my favorite wwe writers!
and secondly, i have a request, is it possible to write something where damian and the reader have been fighting recently and she brings up the topic of breaking up and he tries everything to keep her from leaving? with it ending fluffy and maybe a little smutty? if you’re comfortable! thank you! <3
damian priest x reader
kinda changed the request a little, hope you don’t mind.
‼️angst angst angst angst angst
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at your worst
“what do you want me to say? congratulations?” you screamed back, frustrated and tired by how he wasn’t understanding your point of view.
“yeah, it would have been nice” he screamed at you.
these fight as been going on for twenty minutes already and all you wanted to do was going to bed and sleep.
“like i didn’t do it before…okay… congratulation damian! this is the tenth time i’ve been congratulating with you for your accomplishments and your wrestlemania victory!”
“it doesn’t seem genuine to me” he said, throwing the title on the hotel bed you were both sharing.
“oh i’m sorry…why don’t you go back to the bar you were celebrating your victory and ask the barmaids to congratulate with you, i’m pretty sure they would be very happy to show you how proud they are…”
“not again y/n…i’m not doing this again! why can’t you accept that i just won? why can’t you be happy for me?” he asked you.
“i’m very happy for you damian! i’m so proud of you winning at wrestlemania! that’s not why i’m mad!” you said again, for the millionth time that night.
“then why are you mad?”
you couldn’t believe he asked you that again. not when you’ve been explaining it for over thirty minutes now.
“you went out and celebrated your victory with anyone instead me! damian i’m your girlfriend, we’re going to get married this summer and instead you preferred going out clubbing with models and people you don’t even know about! i’m not saying you shouldn’t have done that but…acknowledging me a little would have been nice you know!” you explained, again, but he wasn’t listening.
“sorry if i wanted to have fun a little”
“a little? damian i saw the photos! probably five or more women were all on you and you did nothing to stop them! you have no idea how i felt…the little respect you showed me!”
“so this is what’s about uh? well, let me tell you something, the world doesn’t revolve around you y/n!” he screamed back, probably not even understanding the part where you just asked him to respect you as his girlfriend “i know what this is about…”
“what?”
“you’re jealous…” he said and you tried your best to not laugh “you’re jealous because i get to have a title run and you don’t. you’re jealous because you cannot wrestle anymore due to your injury and you want to ruin my moment too. you’re jealous because you will never have your wrestlemania moment. you are jealous of me because i can do all the things you cannot do anymore. yeah, you injured yourself years ago and that caused you to stop to wrestle but that doesn’t mean that the whole world gotta stop wrestling because you did. it’s not always about you!” he let it all out.
ouch.
that hurt.
“is that what you think?” if you wear mad before now, you were just sad and upset about what he just said.
“of course! so why are you trying to ruin my moment?” he asked.
“i just asked you for a little respect damian…if you can’t respect me why are we even together?” you’re finally asked, letting a few years fall from your eyes.
this wasn’t the damian you fell in love with. the damian you knew would have never mentioned injury you suffered from years ago. the damian you fell in love with was kind and caring and he always supported you at your worst. the man you loved never let a victory getting to his head so maybe the damian you fell in love with was gone.
he was speechless when you asked him that question maybe realising he went too far with his words.
“i’m sorry y/n…i don’t know where all those words came from…” he apologised once he realised the huge mistake.
“they came from your mouth and i’m pretty sure all you said was what you were feeling. i just - i can’t believe that you would say something like that. yeah, maybe i’m a little selfish because i wanted you to be with me since you’re always gone but never in my life i would have thought that you would turn your back on me like this…” you quickly wiped your tears away.
“no no i promise you i never meant any of those words…you gotta believe me mi amor…” he was almost begging.
he knew he fucked up. he knew he fucked up when he saw how disappointed you were when you were all celebrating with his friends. he knew he fucked up when he saw the look you gave him when those women were trying to have a chance with him and he didn’t do anything to stop them. but he knew if fucked up the most when he talked shit about your injury because he saw how heartbroken you were and he knew that was the hardest point of your life and he fucked up because you weren’t going to forgive him.
“i’m pretty sure you meant those words damian…i, i’m sorry if i gave you the impression of wanting to sabotage your career…i always wanted the best for you and i’m so proud of your victory tonight…if that’s what you think of me there’s no reason for us to even keep the relationship going…it’s clear you don’t trust me and”
he stopped you before you could continue talking “no no stop it right there mi amor. those words weren’t true okay? i don’t know why i said that but i don’t mean it, i promise you i…i love you y/n so much and i know i hurt you but i don’t mean any of those words i said…please, give another chance…” he came closer to you but you took a few steps back.
“you don’t respect me damian…”
“i do”
“damian please…don’t make this harder” you said, crying.
“i’m not letting you go, not like this…i fucked up and i know…i’m so sorry but you’re the love of my life and…”
“and what? the way you behave tonight proved me everything i needed to know…the man i’m going to marry has to show me respect and you don’t damian…”
he couldn’t believe it was happening “but i do…i promise you, let me show you how wrong you are, please”
“no! you don’t! if you had a little bit of respect for me you wouldn’t have let those women on you! you wouldn’t have let them humiliating me! everyone in the club felt sorry for me because of how you were behaving! rhea even tried to take me outside because you were making me feel useless…damian, i don’t want to marry a person who’s not serious about his responsibilities…” you said and before you could even think you took the ring off and gently put it on the table next to the door.
“where-where are you going?” he asked, tears running down his face.
“i’ll be sleeping with rhea…”
“is it over?” he asked, fearing for your answer.
“goodnight damian”
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evangelineshifts · 8 months
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FUCK IT !
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You know I started thinking about the analogy that people use for manifestation and shifting comparing it to when you order something online.
And for me that analogy made sense but I could never truly relate to it cause when they said “you don’t wonder when your package is coming, you just know it is and you don’t question that etc etc”
And while yes that is true to a certain extent, I actually DO wonder when my packages are coming sometimes. I DO check how far they are from my location. I do anxiously wait for them to come.
I realize that that’s okay. Cause no matter how many times I check the order status. No matter how many times I check how long it’s been since I ordered it, my package STILL CAME.
I think the way we’re told to restrict ourselves from thinking about how much time our manifestations are taking or when we’re gonna shift actually makes it worse.
When you tell someone not to worry about something, to let it go and not thinking about it, to feign indifference the harder they’re going to try to. Which in turn just makes them think about it more.
It’s counterproductive at best.
When I order something I do think about how long it’ll take. I do check the status but once I do I just kind of go on once I’m done. I don’t really feel any particular way about how long it’s taking cause I know it’s mine and it’ll get here.
I trust that the delivery service will get it here in due time cause that’s THEIR job not mine and leave it at that 🤷🏽‍♀️
Another thing I noticed is that in ordering things- at least for me - I don’t worry about HOW it’s gonna get here. It could be delivered on my doorstep, in the mailbox, dropped from a fucking helicopter, ANYTHING, and I have never once cared.
And it might just be me being slow and realizing this is what they meant in those posts later than everyone else but it’s just like- clicked !
I’m always SO worried about the process of shifting.
What method should I do? Should I even do a method?
What if I get bored? I dont want to do it if I’m bored.
What will I think about? Should I look over my script? Maybe Pinterest boards for visuals?
What if I forgot something? I should check my script.
What if I fall asleep?
What if? What if? What if?
WHO FUCKING CARES?!? That is not why you’re doing this. Who cares about that process when the end goal is the destination.
I’ve been avoiding shifting for the longest because I just kept stressing out over the shifting aspect of it. I would maladaptive daydream about my dr and be happy in that but the thought of attempt a shift made me groan.
The thought of affirming and persisting in my manifestations seemed strenuous.
But thats not the point. With practices as fluid as this focusing on what to do is literally the last thing you need to be worried about and I just now realized that.
You’ve probably heard this all before but like fr, do whatever the hell you want. If you want to shift wide awake, eyes open and dancing with music blasting in your ears- do it. Who’s gonna tell you that you can’t? Who has the credibility to say it’s impossible.
No one.
If you want to manifest by literally saying one affirmation and deciding it’s done and then going on doing whatever the fuck you want until the 3D catches up, then do it.
Tell yourself it works for you and then do it.
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✧ dividers by @benkeibear !
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luvhughes43 · 1 year
Text
daddy? | dad!trevor zegras x reader
luvhughes43 masterlist🌙
request: Could I please request a Trevor fic? Maybe taking place rn where he posts a picture of his girlfriend and their two freshly born twin girls? Like he kept his gf and the pregnancy a secret but decides to just announce I after they are born and everyone sort of losses it? Could just be fluffy but for a little more angst the public reacts badly because he is somewhat young and his public persona doesn’t scream “responsible dad” to them.
trevorzegras
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liked by ynuser, jackhughes, jamie.drysdale, and others
trevorzegras 03/08/23 💗💗
tagged: ynuser
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jackhughes best kept secret of all time
jamie.drysdale dad
jackhughes daddy
liked by trevorzegras
ynuser ❤️❤️❤️
user11 who let trevor fcking zegras get them pregnant😭😭😭
user44 FRRR😭😭😭😭 
user38 trevor has..k..kids… and they’re not mine? this doesn’t seem right 
user99 i’m sorry is anyone else concerned for these kids? like trevor is so unserious and he’s also in the nhl.. like how is he going to take care of them? he can barely drive a car and now he has TWINS?? with a girl weve never even seen either? he probably got her pregnant during a 1 night stand and is just now taking responsibility because he can get attention from it...
user73 ??? do u know trevor personally? maybe yn likes her privacy? u don’t know their lives. i’m sure he’s a great dad. u don’t have to be so hateful over people you do. not. know.
user61 uhmmm… okay…
user12 what ?
user61 he’s barely 22 how’s hes gonna be a good dad? to twins no less. boy only cares about hockey and his weed😭 he’s not gonna be a father to nobody’s kids even if she is really pretty😭😭😭
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a few months later...
ynuser
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liked by trevorzegras, jackhughes, and others
ynuser nothing but smiles🫶
tagged: trevorzegras
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trevorzegras my whole heart❤️
ynuser we love you so much!
_quinnhughes the cutest kids
liked by ynuser, and trevorzegras
user88 quinn hates trevor but he loves the kids😭😭
_quinnhughes the kids haven’t done anything wrong
trevorzegras ?? what i have done wrong😭😭
_quinnhughes be annoying❤️
user55 awwww😭😭😭😭🫶🫶
trevorzegras
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liked by ynuser, colecaufield, lhughes_06, and others
trevorzegras the babies are growing up🥲❤️
tagged: ynuser
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ynuser theyre getting so big🥹🥹
trevorzegras i need them to stop growing fr
jackhughes can u bring them over soon? they dont like when i watch bluey without them
user22 JACK A BLUEY STAN CONFIRMED???
trevorzegras jackhughes 🫡🫡
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ynuser
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liked by trevorzegras, jamie.drysdale, jackhughes, and others
ynuser mom and dad night out🥂
tagged: trevorzegras
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trevorzegras my love❤️
ynuser ❤️❤️
jamie.drysdale please go out more so i can babysit the kids
trevorzegras its not even fair they behave so well for u😭
ynuser jamies the baby whisperer fr
user10 STOPP jamie babysits for them?? thats so cute wtff
user41 notice how hes on his phone.. yeah he doesnt like her at all😭
ynuser he was taking pictures of me? lol
user11 u guys are so cute together im ngl lie😭
user87 MOM AND DAD
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taesancult · 9 months
Note
taesan eating you out so hard that you go numb down there ?? …I mean you will have to beg him to stop 🥹
WHEW just the thought of taesan in this scenario is enough to make me go sicko mode fr he’s not a want he is a NEED
18+ stuff under the cut. mdni
there’s two ways this could possibly happen in my mind. first is that he accidentally overstimulates you too far. he would be a lot softer and just in the mood to make you feel good. there’s a part of him that ignores your pleas as he’s fucking you with his tongue so good, thinking you’re just being silly. one of those moments where you beg him to stop, but he knows if he did that you would whine about it and that you actually wanted him to keep going. when you reach your high for the nth time that night, crying out and telling him to stop, he doesn’t. he keeps lightly licking your cunt, wanting to keep going, and you have to physically pull him off of you. you wouldn’t think, pulling him by the hair just to get his damn tongue away from you, and he would worry for a second that something was actually wrong. he’d look at you in concern as you say “i-i can’t feel anything i’m literally just tingling down there?” and he’d respond with a huh? and lightly touch your pussy. “i can barely feel it? but i’m okay? i feel okay?” you would say, confused, but once he hears that you’re okay he’d smirk at you. “i must’ve done such a good job, right?” he’d ask with a smug smile that makes you roll your eyes at him. “too good.” he would feel so good because he really gets off on your pleasure so knowing he could make you feel THAT good? it’s a high of its own for him.
the other way you find yourself with a numb pussy is when he does it on purpose. maybe it’s for a punishment or maybe he was just feeling particularly ruthless, who KNOWS with this man. no matter how much you beg for him to stop, whining that it’s too much, he’d just smirk into your cunt. you were giving him the exact reactions he wanted, the begging was just motivating him to not stop. he’d just keep going at it, and if you try tugging him away by pulling at his hair he’d literally stop for a second to glare at you and say “you’re always so greedy, why is it the one time i give you exactly what you want you throw a dumb fit?” in this situation, he literally wouldn’t quit until your pussy is tingling, that’s his whole end goal. IT’S SO GOOD-
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madam-monarch · 6 months
Text
[ alright I talked a bit about an AU I worked on, and now I got most of the basic stuff done, so I feel ready to show it to people! ]
Here we go!…
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[ yea I made a Sea Creature/Mermaid AU, has been done 100 times before, and I don’t care, had the idea after waking up one morning and I had the massive urge to do it! ]
[ in this post I’ll go over the basic story n stuff, I’ll make a second one going over Kinito and His Crew in a bit more detail! ]
LINK TO THE CREW INFO POST
[ I’ll from is on use #kinitoPetDeepSeaAU for any type of post related to this AU, just to make it easier to find! ]
[ now to the Main info about this AU! Under the cut! ]
Now before we get started, I wanna say this will have some broken englisch and bad grammar, not just because I’m Dyslexic, but englisch ain’t my native language, so please be nice to me! :(
Okay but now fr let’s go! [ also slight warning for mentions of Manipulation and Violence, nothing super graphic, but just to be sure! :) ]
In this AU, Kinito and His crew are no virtual creatures, but Siren/Mermaid like sea Creatures!
The story of this AU is that the player has been accepted to a job to work at a company [still tho looking of a name for the company, open for suggestions tbh] close to the Sea, which doesn’t just work taking care and studying sea life, but also capturing mythical sea life, to study them [including doing tests on them], and keeping them behind wall‘s, to secure humans to be safe from them! [yes, they are in fact very dangerous in this AU]
In the AU, Sonny Chamberlain is still alive, but very physically injured, he was the one who captured the three, and survived an attack from kinito [u can tell these two got mad beff here], and Sonny being the main guy who has to teach „player“ their new job, on how to take care of these three, Sonny obviously is VERY worried for „Player“, knowing how dangerous it can be to be around them!
Kinito, after meeting „player“ the first time, tries a plan he has tried whit many other workers of the company before, trying to befriend them, so he and his friends can go out into the sea again and do Havoc, which hasn’t obvious worked till now… but who know‘s, maybe it will work out this time!
/// now just a little add on, based on the canon game, I don’t think Kinito is rlly evil, his actions are, which he doesn’t rlly know any better, he‘s just following what he was made for, a bit aggressive, but pretty unaware, in this AU, Kinito fully knows what he’s doing, he‘s not an AI, he‘s a living being, so yea, he is quite evil and WILL manipulate and out others in danger to get the thing he wants, which is to do what he wants!
This is the basic rundown of the AU, I will now go a bit more in detail of the crew!
I’ll work on a ref for Sonny and Player for this AU soonish!
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strwbnnie · 1 year
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chileee what is up with me & angst 😭 I was able to salvage this from my notes so I thought why not post it lol probably my first and last aot piece cause idk how to write them fr 😭 & sorry to the Reiner loves cause I wrote him so mean 😭
cw: fat shaming, fat phobia, best friend Eren, ex-boyfriend Reiner, mention of cheating, verbal abuse, mention of k!lling, friends to lovers, one sided pining, sorry if I missed anything!
Word count is undetermined but it’s not that long.
Eren hasn’t said a word to you since you arrived at his apartment, puffy eyed and soaking wet from the rain, just stepped out of the way and allowed you to walk in. 
You didn’t blame him, it’d been quite a while since the two of you had last spoken. Two or three weeks maybe, you couldn’t remember. It was difficult keeping track of time when your mind was slowly but surely shutting down. Either way it made you feel like shit. 
You wanted to to sit and talk to him but your first priority was getting out of those wet clothes. You went straight to his bedroom, closing yourself in the en-suite.
You let the shower run for a little bit, fogging up the room and hopefully drowning out your sorrow as you sit on the covered toilet, aimlessly scrolling. You checked the notifications on your phone, tapping around until you heard your ex-boyfriend’s voice projecting from the speakers. 
“Baby, just come back home. Please, let’s just talk about it.” “Hear me out, Y/N. I’m sorry okay, just come back.”
The way he was pleading you’d think he actually gave a damn about you.
“Come on Y/N,” There’s a short pause and a deep sigh. You know it’s coming. You hear the change in his tone, that false compassion and empathy has withered away. “Let’s face it, Y/N. Nobody’s gonna want you but me. Nobody’s into fat bitches. You’re lucky your face is cute. Nothing but a pretty face and a hole to fuck. Or should I say holes? I’m sure a slut like you takes it up the ass too-.”
Globs of hot tears ran down your face, budding at your chin and pooling on the screen of your phone. You deleted the nasty voice message Reiner left, only thirteen seconds into the minute and twelve second voice message, his harsh words breaking your heart all over again. 
The wound was still fresh and he did nothing but cut you deeper. Why was he like that???
Blocking his number so you wouldn’t receive anymore, you were ready to be done with this shit. Ready to heal from Reiner and all the bullshit he‘s put you through.
After your eyes are cried out and your skin is parched from the piping hot water, you finally exit. 
You didn’t leave with anything except your purse, phone and the clothes on your back, so you’re more than grateful to see a white tshirt and a towel on Eren’s bed waiting for you. The shirt was a little tight on your arms and the hem ended right at the cusp of your butt but it was better than nothing. 
The California King in his bedroom looked freshly made, plush and inviting, but you’d spent far too many nights alone in an empty bed while your so-called partner occupied another. You should’ve known that’s how it’d be when you decided to get yourself into a domesticated situationship with a narcissistic cheater.
You opted for the couch, where Eren was also sitting. He’s munching on a bowl of cereal watching some crime documentary. The atmosphere is dull, but it’s not as bad as you thought it’d be.
“Hey!”
He didn’t bother feigning the same excitement, sending nothing but a head nod you’re way but you’re still grateful to get something out of him.
Maybe he was annoyed, which he had every right to be. It was late as hell, around three in the morning, and you honestly felt a little bad. Showing up out of the blue and forcing him to share his space. 
“I really appreciate you letting me stay here, there were no rooms available anywhere.”
He ignored you, you figured he would. He hasn’t said much since you’ve been there. He’s treating you as if you’re a stranger, almost.
Unfortunately the documentary has lost all of his interest, he figured out the wife was the killer all along and there’s no reason to keep watching. 
Now he’s stretching out, manspreading if you will, with his legs cocked open. He’s sporting that same bored look, except now he’s on his phone watching TikTok’s with his volume obnoxiously loud.
Honestly, he didn’t even touch this app unless he was watching the shit ton of videos you sent him at some manic hour of the night. But right now he needed something to distract him. To distract him from everything only you made him feel.
“I get paid Friday, I can send you something once it’s deposited, my money lookin kinda funny right now so...” 
You’d spent close to your last getting an Uber to Eren’s. You weren’t sure why you even decided to come to Eren’s. Your parents lived in the same city and they probably would’ve been more welcoming than he was being right about now. 
“When have I ever asked you to pay me back for anything y/n?” 
His tone isn’t cold or mean, but indifferent. Like he doesn’t care. You’re sure he doesn’t. 
The tension is almost tangible, thick and suffocating.
“I know, but-“ You cut yourself off, stumbling over your words. Your throat is scratchy and your mouth dry. You didn’t know exactly what to say to mend things between you and your bestfriend. 
You hoped to pick up the pieces. Pickup where you left off like the two of y’all always did. But this here just showed how dumb and deluded you really were.
“I’m sorry…you were right.” You feel ashamed. Embarrassed even.
You can feel him staring at you, so you keep your eyes glued to your hands in your lap, twirling your thumbs in hopes to make amends. 
“What are you talking about, y/n?” You can feel his gaze boring into you.
“About Reiner…and every-everything else really. We not getting back together, forreal this time, I can’t.”
He was right about everything. Reiner was an immature asshole. You trusted his smooth talking, pretty smile and it backfired horrendously. 
Reiner was verbally abusive, insecure and mean, and he projected it without a care. Tore you down every chance he got, belittling you until you were almost an empty shell of your former self. 
On top of that, he was insensitive as hell, bullied you worse than any of those middle and high school nobodies you no longer remembered.
He’d probably use his last breath to lie, just because. If you were blind he’d tell you the sun was blue and the sky was yellow, for no reason whatsoever other than to be a dick. 
All of this Eren warned you about, but you just had to go and see for yourself. You fell for the first boy to show interest in you. The first to give you attention and affection. The first one who wasn’t looking to ‘try it out’ with a fat girl or looked at you like some pity case. 
So you thought. 
“You’ve said that before.”
“I know! But I mean it this time, and I’m so sorry for ghosting you and lying a-and putting him first before our friendship cause..I know you wouldn’t do that to me and I’m such an awful person-.”
Your sniffles turned into sobs, deep sobs that shook your entire body against his when he finally went against his stubborn ways and pulled you into a hug. 
You sound sincere, but Eren doesn’t know if he believes you. Hell it wouldn’t be the first time you lied to him about getting back with Reiner.
He wanted to tell you off. Scold you and yell at you for abandoning him. For giving him your ass to kiss cus you thought you were in love, only to come crawling back asking him to pick up the fucking pieces, again.
“I should’ve listened to you.”
Words muffled into his chest but he heard you. 
“You should’ve.” He doesn’t mean to sound condescending but it’s true. “I don’t like seeing you cry.” 
His voice startled you a little bit, velvety and deep, chest rumbling as he still had you pressed up against his frame. The aloof facade cracking with each sob. 
“I’ll handle it.”
He’d handle it. Handle him. 
His arms embraced you tighter. One holding you against him while the other ran down your back, over your thigh then back up again as he allowed you to bawl your eyes out.
“I hate when you talk like that Ren,” You leaned back to look at him. “You know I don’t like unnecessary viole-.” 
He grabs your face mid sentence, squishing your cheeks together, your lips round and pouty as you stared back at him. 
“How’s it unnecessary when my princess is sitting here with tears running down her pretty ass face?”
It slipped but he made no attempt to correct it.
His princess. He’d always called you a princess, especially when y’all were younger. He found it very intriguing how spoiled you were, especially by the men in your life. Dad, uncles, even Eren himself. 
He remembers saving up his little paychecks from working part time to spoil you as well, buying you little trinkets and gifts you probably didn’t even have anymore. 
Nothing was unnecessary when it came to his princess. He’d die for you. Kill for you, even. You were the light of his dim life. Why wouldn’t you just realize it?
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