#they were beautiful together and their love was real

[svtswhorehouse]

DATING SEUNGCHEOL INCLUDES…. — sfw

• sugar daddy or boyfriend? (the answer is both.)

• the definition of a REAL MAN. no one has ever treated you with as much respect or given you as much love as seungcheol has.

• you're his pretty little passenger princess and he's your personal chauffeur.

• mom and dad of the group, duhhhh.

• he would drop anything and everything just to give you his undivided attention, no matter how important it is.

• yes. he would still love you if you were a worm.

• he would definitely give you his bank card without a second thought. it would also be linked to your phone, he insists on you using it always and would throw a fit when you don't.

• you would also give him your card at times and he always takes it without a fight, but would never use it.

• would take you out on dates in which you can dress up pretty and maybe dine at a fancy and EXPENSIVE restaurant. don't be fooled though. he also pays attention to the little things so if you're into books, he's taking you to a library themed restaurant. if you like animals, he's booking a ticket to orlando and ya'll are going to the rainforest cafe or something.

• you would never have to lift a finger ever again.

• he would wash your car, fill it up with gas, and take it to go get serviced without any complaints.

• he would burn down the world for you.

• he always puts you first. if he had to pick between you or the company (if they ever made him choose) he doesn't even need to think, it would be you every time.

• also your body guard ! any social gathering ya'll attend, he always has his eyes on you no matter how far away you are from him.

• times in which you do drive yourself, ya'll are definitely the type of couple to have life 360 on each other. he would text you saying to slow the fuck down if you're speeding.

• no matter how much you insist he goes to sleep and no matter how late you're getting home — it could be 4 in the morning, he will ALWAYS wait up for you.

• he has the habit of buying you anything you even slightly mention. he also pays close attention to the things you look at when out shopping together and they would show up delivered to your apartment the next day. he would take the heat from you, but still would continue to spend his money on you.

• when you have a bad day, he is already there with open arms ready to give you the biggest bear hug and shield you from the rest of the world.

• whenever you two go out together, he always has a hand on your back to guide you through crowds or just so everyone knows that you're off limits.

• if you ever lose during game nights with friends or really anywhere, he would do the penalties for you!

• he always makes sure you're on the inside when walking near a street.

• if you ever doubt yourself or feel insecure, prepare for a long serious conversation with lots of tears because he WILL NOT be having any of that. no. not when he thinks you're one of the most beautiful, talented, and honorable people he knows.

• you have never felt so safe and secure than when he's around.

• he will constantly be saying "i love you." definitely the type to call you back immediately if you forget to say it and hang up.

• he has a personal agenda out for revenge against anyone who hurts or disrespects you in any type of way.

• he will be your designated driver for not only you BUT your friends as well during girl's night out.

• he may be competitive, but when it comes to you, he would let you win just so he can see a smile on your face.

• says he CAN'T (won't because he's stubborn) fall asleep if he's not cuddling you.

• he becomes the softest most kindhearted person in the world when it comes to you.

• he gets jealous easily, but he trusts you with his whole heart so he doesn't dwell on it for too long.

• when it comes to arguing, no matter if he was in the right or wrong, he is always the first to apologize. definitely the type to get you chocolate, flowers, and ALWAYS gets you a teddy bear after.

• would make you sit on his back when doing pushups or would give you a piggy back ride when he is doing pull-ups !

• he LOVES when you wear his clothes. you would always find his shirts or hoodies on your side of the closet and be like "hmm, how did this get here?" ask your boyfriend.

• rarely ever calls you by your name. always calls you baby or something cute. he also insists that you don't call him seungcheol. he will pout if you do.

• definitely impressed your parents right off the bat. your family absolutely adores him and your parents treat him like a son.

• he would tease you by giving you a hug when he's all sweaty after practice.

• he INSISTS on picking you up EVERYDAY after work.

[leydenkilgore]

about balancing shifting and your original reality as someone that spends most of their time in their dr

I’ve spent much more time there than I ever have here. So I just feel like I belong there and it’s not really about one specific place or life. I keep coming back here not because I even want to but because it’s just familiar. I don’t use a safe word or anything, and I scripted I forgot I even shifted there to be more authentic. Because I personally always would feel like I was playing a role. Something in the back of my mind tells me I need to go back and I just go back. You can’t get stuck there or need a safe word. Just think you want to go back and you’re back. I think once you outlive your original life by a couple times you start to become naturally less detached to things in your original reality. At least that’s how it was for me. I just feel like there’s not much else I want from this experience. Shifting becomes so much easier the more you succeed and do it. The more apathetic about it, the less your life depends on it. I think for some people that they become too obsessed and reliant on it as an imaginary coping mechanism. There’s nothing wrong with use shifting as a coping mechanism or escapism is that subconsciously you just like the feeling the idea shifting gives you. Not what actively shifting will do for you. And you’re just seeking comfort in the dream of it. It that makes since. And the way to get out of that is to think of it as your life not an imaginary dream world. People that haven’t shifted for more than a few days don’t understand that it’s not just another daydream you fleshed out. It’s your life. Your desired reality will be your life. You’ll wake up there every morning, go to bed there, and experience everything. It’s a universe that has its own physics, its own laws and its real. And there’s differences in each reality people shift to because they want different things and characters there might not behave the same as they do in others.

You shouldn’t have an unhealthy attachment to it where you’re basically an addict. But there’s nothing wrong with treating it like a well loved hobby or favorite comfort. As long as you decided whether you want to live another life or escape to a daydream. Once you decide which one. Just shift. If you want a method find a method decide you shift that way each time or just pick a daydream to comfort yourself with it. That’s it nothing else. About living multiple lives. Sometimes they do run together here but I manifested a pretty low effort life for myself. So I have time to do what I want to do with everything taken care of. I don’t have a lot of people in my life that really take out too much energy so I’m lost in my memories most of the time. For some people that’s a big problem. If that’s a problem for you don’t shift as I often I do. I miss being there but for some reason I don’t want to leave there yet. Even though there’s nothing I want here anymore. I don’t mean that in a depressed way. Literally I just can’t imagine myself even remaining the rest of this year here. And I feel like I’m almost ready to leave here permanently but I don’t know yet.

I can still watch media and things from places I shift to because I’m amused by their behavior, it makes me feel like home I’ve never shifted to the canon world of Attack on Titan. Because I just think it’d be unpleasant. First of all Titans in my drs smell. You can smell them before you see them type of thing. Here’s a rant about something I never get a chance to talk about. Also the Yeager brothers lack in hygiene for some reason. I blame there father. Literally it’s atrocious. They were both clean as like teenagers and looked normal. Eren has very beautiful hair even when it was short. Grischa has very nice hair too. But they both are musty looking. They don’t look clean ever. It’s the strangest thing. And then there’s Zeke. See he can look clean. Eren and Grischa can’t. They just have a musty look about them. Zeke lacks in hygiene by choice. First of all he’s hairy everywhere which makes him scratchy. And he doesn’t know physical boundaries either. I think he knows if actually, I just don’t think it cares. And it’s so weird because in my dr, Grischa only divorced Dina. And she smells like expensive lotion but looks really clean and healthy. I just don’t know. And they’re both very good looking so I think they both get so much attention from the looks that they don’t care anymore. Which frustrates me to no end…But…That’s at least how they are in my drs.

I just finished the end of Ergo Proxy. And I’m so confused but I know when I shift there I’m going to eat so bad. And I’ve been seeing vulture circling around my home which I intended to him when I was close to respawning. But at the same time like what are you trying to tell me. Go shift and thanks for 500 followers!

[be4chywritez]

Plzzz tell me we are getting a part 2 of you had me at hello

You ask and you'll receive.

had me at hello ll | oscar piastri

oscar piastri x perez!reader

part l

oscar and you are dating but when dating someone with such a high profile scrutiny is unavoidable.

You checked your phone nervously, glancing around the corner of the dimly lit café. It was your first real date, away from the prying eyes of the paddock and the ever-watchful media. You smiled as you saw Oscar approaching, his usual quiet demeanor replaced with a boyish grin.

Oscar slid into the seat across from you, his eyes sparkling. “This place is perfect,” he said, looking around at the cozy décor. “How did you find it?”

“An actress never tells her secrets.” You teased, winking. “But seriously, I thought we could use a break from all the chaos.”

You ordered drinks and settled into an easy conversation, talking about everything from your favorite movies to the challenges you and Oscar have faced in your careers. The more they talked, the more You realized how much you enjoyed Oscar’s company. He was kind, attentive, and surprisingly funny.

Midway through your conversation, Oscar reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “I have to tell you something,” he began, his cheeks tinged with pink.

“What is it?” You asked, intrigued by his sudden seriousness.

Oscar took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. “I absolutely love your accent. The way you speak… it’s beautiful. I could listen to you talk all day.”

You felt a warm blush spread across your cheeks. “Thank you, Oscar. That’s really sweet. I guess I never really thought about it.”

Oscar smiled, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. “It’s just… it’s a part of you. And I like everything about you, even the way you say my name.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling your heart race. “You’re making me blush, Oscar.”

You finished their drinks and decided to take a walk along the quiet streets. The night air was cool, and You shivered slightly. Without a word, Oscar draped his jacket over your shoulders, his hand lingering on your arm.

Y/n looked at him through your lashes, taking hold of his hand, gently giving him enough time to pull away, but he didn’t. He brought their interlinked hands to his lips, kissing the back of your hand.

A warm, fuzzy feeling spread through you as you felt the gentle pressure of his lips on your skin. It was such a simple gesture, yet it carried so much meaning. You squeezed his hand, your fingers intertwining perfectly.

As they walked, the city lights casting a soft glow around them, Oscar suddenly stopped.

“Y/n, can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” you replied, looking up at him.

“What happens if this gets out?” he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern. "I don't want to cause something with your brother," He swallows watching you with careful eyes.

You took a deep breath, considering his words. “We’ll deal with it together,” you said firmly. “I don’t know what Checo could do, but I do know that I want to be with you.”

Oscar smiled, relief was evident in his eyes. “I want that too.”

Oscar let out a huff. "So, you're my girlfriend?" he asked, swinging your hands. You looked over at him, "Looks like it."

You continued your walk, eventually reaching the front of your hotel room. Standing there, basking in each other's warmth, he opened his mouth to say something, "I'm sorry, I have to," he said, grabbing the side of your face and bringing you in for a kiss. It was soft and gentle, your hands gripping his wrist.

You both pulled away, lips swollen. "Good night, Oscar," you smiled, ducking into the room.

You quietly entered the hotel suite, as you settled your bag down you heard knock on your door, using your code knock like when you guys were little.

letting him in he takes a seat on the loveseat.

He took in your flushed cheeks, your swollen lips, and the way your pupils were slightly dilated.

"¿Dónde has estado?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Where have you been?

“Just out,” you reply nonchalantly, trying to hide your smile.

Checo notices and sits up straight."¿Con Oscar verdad?"

With Oscar right?

You sigh, knowing you can’t hide it. “Yes, with Oscar.”

Checo frowns. “estoy preocupado por ti. Todo esto con Oscar… es complicado. Ustedes tienen carreras exigentes y los medios son implacables. Simplemente no quiero que te lastimes.”

I'm worried about you. All this with Oscar… it's complicated. You have demanding careers and the media is unforgiving. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.

You sit down next to him, your excitement from the date now mixed with concern. “I understand why you’re worried, Checo. But Oscar makes me happy. And I think we can handle it.” You rest your head on his shoulder.

Checo looks at you, his expression softening. “Simplemente no quiero verte lastimado. Si él te hace feliz, eso es todo lo que importa. Pero prométeme que tendrás cuidado."

I just don't want to see you hurt. If he makes you happy, that's all that matters. But promise me you'll be careful.

You nod, hugging him. "Te lo prometo. Y gracias por preocuparte tanto."

I promise you. And thank you for caring so much.

"Solo recuerda, siempre estaré aquí para ti, pase lo que pase." he told you.

Just remember, I will always be here for you, no matter what.

you let him out of your room, then collapsing onto the bed with a hazy expression on your face. Your mind races with a whirlwind of emotions, from guilt to excitement to fear of the consequences.

Later that night, you can't stop thinking about Oscar. The day's excitement has only heightened your feelings for him, and you find yourself wanting to be close to him again. You text him, and within minutes, there's a soft knock on your door.

You open it to find Oscar standing there, a shy smile on his face. "Hey," he says softly.

"Hey," you reply, stepping aside to let him in. "I just... I wanted to see you."

He closes the door behind him, his eyes never leaving yours. "I wanted to see you too," he says, his voice a low murmur.

Without another word, he reaches out, his hand gently cupping your face. You lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. He leans in, his breath mingling with yours, and then his lips are on yours, soft and gentle.

You melt into the kiss, your hands gripping his wrists as you lose yourself in the moment. The kiss deepens, and you feel the world around you fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble. He walks towards the couch, sitting down, and you straddle him, your hands making their way to the hair at the base of his neck. You tug slightly, making him let out a quiet groan.

The sound sends a shiver down your spine, and you press closer to him, feeling his hands move to your waist. The intensity of the moment builds, your heart pounding in your chest as you lose yourself in his touch and the heat between you.

Just as things are starting to heat up, you hear a soft knock on your door. Both of you freeze, pulling away from each other reluctantly. Your heart pounds in your chest as you try to compose yourself.

"Y/n, are you okay?" It's Checo's voice, filled with concern.

You glance at Oscar, who looks equally startled. Taking a deep breath, you call out, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a minute."

You quickly straighten your clothes and smooth your hair before opening the door. Checo stands there, his expression a mix of worry and curiosity.

"What's going on?" he asks, his eyes darting between you and Oscar, who is now standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"Nothing, we were just talking," you say, trying to sound casual.

Checo raises an eyebrow but doesn't press the issue. "Alright, just wanted to make sure you're okay. It's late, try to get some sleep."

You nod, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. "I will, thanks, Checo."

As Checo turns to leave, you close the door and lean against it, your heart still racing. Oscar steps closer, his hand finding yours.

"That was close," he whispers, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Too close," you agree, squeezing his hand. "Maybe we should call it a night."

Oscar nods, leaning in to give you one last, lingering kiss. "Good night, Y/n. See you tomorrow."

"Good night, Oscar," you whisper back, watching him quietly leave the room.

With your heart still pounding, you crawl into bed, laying there your fingers dance around your lips, they feel swollen, and you sigh trying to fall asleep, for now, you let the warmth of his kiss linger as you drift off to sleep.

-

You and Oscar have been dating for a while now, you attend races as much as you could, switching up which team you would support.

Checo has accepted that you and Oscar are together, and he's happy to see his little sister happy.

The morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You stretch languidly, the memory of last night bringing a smile to your face. The clock reads 8:30 AM, giving you plenty of time to get ready for your day with Oscar.

You slip out of bed and head to the bathroom, the cool tiles underfoot helping to shake off any lingering sleepiness. As you go through your morning routine, your thoughts drift to Oscar, and a giddy excitement bubbles up inside you.

Once you're dressed in your carefully chosen outfit—a sleeveless white top with a tailored, fitted design and a deep neckline, paired with high-waisted, wide-leg jeans—you step back to admire yourself in the mirror. The red Prada heels, red handbag, and delicate necklaces add just the right touch of elegance and color.

Your phone buzzes, pulling you out of your reverie. It's a text from Oscar

Morning! Ready to go?

Yeah meet me in the lobby in 10?

Perfect see you soon 😊

Feeling a rush of excitment, you grab your things and head down to the lobby. As you wait, you check your reflection one last time in the lobby mirror, adjusting your hair and making sure everything is perfect.

Just as you finish, you hear a familiar voice behind you. "Y/n?"

You turn to see Checo walking towards you, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you doing down here so early?"

Your heart skips a beat, but you quickly compose yourself. "Oh, just meeting Oscar."

Checo chuckles, "You sure do love him."

Just then, the elevator doors open, and Oscar steps out, looking slightly flustered but undeniably handsome. His eyes light up when he sees you, and he quickly makes his way over.

"Good morning," he says, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

"Good morning," you reply, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

Checo watches the exchange with a neutral expression, but you can sense his protective instincts kicking in.

"Ready to go?" Oscar asks, offering his hand.

You take it, feeling a surge of happiness. "Absolutely."

Checo clears his throat, drawing both of your attention. "Oscar," he starts, his tone serious, "Look out for her."

Oscar nods, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "I will."

Satisfied, Checo steps back, giving you both a nod. "Alright, you two. Have a good day."

You and Oscar head out of the hotel, hand in hand. The drive to the paddock is filled with easy conversation and laughter. Oscar seems more relaxed than ever, and you can't help but feel the same.

When he parks, he doesn't get out immediately he looks over at you, he runs his thumb against the back of your hand, "you look beautiful." he says.

You blush, thanking him, he get out of the car, opening your car door helping you out, he grabs your had walking towards the etrance of the circuit.

Fans push against the barricade trying to get Oscar to sign things, he slows down you let go of his hand to let him sign things for fans, you stand next to him, a fan greets you, you greet back, "y/n you look so cute today," you smile at the fan thanking her.

Oscar peers at you, "she always looks cute," he says handing back a cap to a fan, fans around you "Aw" and you giggle, Oscar bids them goodbye walking towards the garage.

The race went great for your brother, but for your boyfriend not so much, P16 wasn't a nice look, he walked toward the garage, his head hung low, and mechanics and engineers pat his back, you walk towards him taking his helmet that clutched he wrapped around your waist burying his nose into your shoulder.

you let him sit there, rubbing his back comfortably, he lets go, pecking your lips, and going to his drivers room.

That night Oscar layed down his head against your chest, an episode of Criminal Minds played in the background, you can hear him mutter something at the TV when the Team missed a clue.

Your phone vibrates, it is an email from your agent, she attached a letter from Sony, it read.

Dear Y/n, you got the part! You were amazing, the scripts are attached to this, and we can't wait to brainstorm with you, here is a rough draft schedule for filming.

SCREEN TESTS: JULY 25, 2023 BARBADOS

TABLE READS: JULY 26, 2023 BARBADOS

FILMING STARTS: JULY 30, 2023 BARBADOS

BREAK: OCTOBER 20, 2023 BARBADOS

FILMING STARTS: OCTOBER 31, 2023 BARBADOS

FILMING ENDS: NOVEMBER 20, 2023 BARBADOS

Kindly,Tony Vinciquerra

You blink, before processing anymore Oscar sits up, "we should order ice cream." he says slipping out of bed, he grabs the phone calling room service.

You stare at Oscar, and when he notices he gives you a wink, you look down at the email, you turn off your phone facing Oscar promising you'll tell him tomorrow

-

You found Oscar sitting in the jacuzzi on the balcony of your room, his head leaned back, his eyes closed, and his mouth slightly ajar. His eyes opened as you approached, his face lighting up with a smile that quickly faded when he saw the worry in your eyes.

“Hey,” he said softly, watching you as you sat on the ledge of the jacuzzi, the ends of your thin nightgown getting wet.

“Hey,” you replied, “We need to talk.”

Oscar nodded, taking your hand in his.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. “I got an offer for a film role. It’s a big opportunity, but it’s in Barbados. I’d have to be away for three months.”

Oscar’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, his expression serious. “That’s amazing, Y/n. You’ve worked so hard for this.”

“But it means we’d be apart,” you said, your voice trembling. “And you know long distance doesn't work.”

Oscar cupped your cheek with his free hand, looking into your eyes. “We’ll make it work. I won’t lie, it’s going to be tough, but we’ll figure it out. I believe in us.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, quickly brushing it away. “I believe in us too. But I’m scared, Oscar. Scared of losing you, of what people will say…”

Oscar pulled you into a tight hug, not caring if your nightgown got wet, his voice gentle but firm. “You have to go, and I’ll support you every step of the way. We’ll find a way to make it work, no matter what.”

Feeling the warmth of his embrace, you leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. It started softly, but soon it deepened, fueled by the intensity of emotions. Your hands found their way to his cheeks, holding him close as you poured all your love and longing into the kiss.

-

The following week, Checo and Oscar stood before you. You wore sunglasses to conceal any signs of tears.

Oscar respectfully stepped away, allowing you and your brother a moment together. "Vas a estar bien, te estaremos esperando, no te preocupes," he assured you, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug.

You're going to be fine, we'll be waiting for you, don't worry.

Planting a tender kiss on your forehead, he signaled to Oscar, who approached. After placing your glasses atop your head, Oscar gently wiped away a stray tear. "I love you," he murmured, brushing his lips against your cheeks before landing a soft kiss on your lips. You reciprocated, whispering, "I love you, Oscar," as he smiled warmly. "I love you more," he replied.

As Checo returned to your side, your gate was called. Grabbing your bag, you walked away from them. Checo patted Oscar on the back reassuringly. "She'll be okay."

-

You sat in your trailer, staring at the script in front of you. You had just finished another exhausting day of filming, and your body ached for rest. Your phone buzzed with a message from Oscar, asking how your day had been. You smiled at his thoughtfulness, but a pang of guilt hit you for not being able to respond immediately.

Later that evening, You found a quiet moment to call Oscar. “Hey,” you said softly, leaning back against the couch.

“Hey,” Oscar replied, his voice filled with warmth. “How was your day?”

“Long,” you admitted, sighing. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Oscar said, his tone sincere. “But I have some good news. I’ve been doing really well in the simulations. The team thinks I might have a good shot at the podium this weekend.”

Your heart swelled with pride. “That’s amazing, Oscar! I knew you could do it.”

“But there’s something else,” Oscar continued, his voice growing serious. “The team wants me to stay focused. They’re worried that our relationship might be a distraction.”

Your heart sank. “What do you mean?”

“They think we’re spending too much time together,” Oscar explained. “They want me to cut back on our calls, at least until the season ends.”

You felt a knot forming in your stomach. “Oscar, I don’t want to be a distraction. I want to support you.”

“I know,” Oscar said gently. “And you do. But I have to prove to them that I can stay focused."

You took a deep breath, trying to hold back tears. “Okay. We’ll make it work. I believe in you, Oscar.”

Oscar’s voice softened. “Thank you, Y/n. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, ending the call and staring at your phone, you sigh running a hand through your face.

before dwelling on your thoughts too much, your assistant called you out to film some promotional videos.

-

Later that week, You found yourself on a film set in a picturesque but remote location. The long hours and demanding schedule left little time for anything else. You missed Oscar terribly, your brief texts and calls never feeling like enough.

It also didn't help that he was traveling around the world.

One night, after an exhausting shoot, you returned to your trailer to find a bouquet of flowers and a note from Oscar: "Thinking of you. We’ll make it through this. Love, Oscar."

Tears welled up in your eyes as she read the note. You called him immediately, needing to hear his voice.

"Hey," he answered, sounding equally tired but happy to hear from you.

"Hey," you said, you voice breaking. "Thank you for the flowers. I miss you so much."

"I miss you too," Oscar replied. "But remember what we talked about? We’re in this together. No matter what."

You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of reassurance washed over you. "I know. And I’m here for you too, Oscar. We’ll get through this."

You and Oscar stayed on the phone for hours that night, until you fell asleep.

-

Your co-star bangs on your trailer door you jump up from your spot, quickly opening the door to be greeted by him. "Y/n, stop being so boring. The crew and I are gonna go get a bite. Wanna come?" he asks.

You consider for a moment, then reply, "Yeah, I'll go."

You sit at the pizza parlor with the crew, enjoying the sweet Barbados air as it tickles your face. It takes your mind off Oscar, though you feel slightly guilty for not thinking about him. But it feels good to relax.

Your co-star leans towards you. "So, how's your Australian?" he asks. You smile at the thought of Oscar, reaching for your phone and opening up your photos. You slide through them, showing pictures of your boyfriend. What you don't notice is the flashing camera of the paparazzi. All they capture is you and your co-star sitting closely as you smile at him.

If you felt a strain in your relationship before you felt it now.

The tension reaches a boiling point when a rumor spreads that you were seen with a co-star, leading to speculation about your loyalty to Oscar. The headlines scream: "Trouble in Paradise for Y/n and Oscar?"

Oscar sees the news and feels his insecurities flare up. That evening, he calls you, unable to hide the hurt in his voice.

"Is it true?" he asks, skipping the usual pleasantries.

"Is what true?" you reply, confused.

"That you’re getting close to your co-star? The media is having a field day with it," Oscar says, his voice tight.

Your heart sinks. "Oscar, no. It’s just a rumor. You know how the media is. Please, don’t let them get to you."

Oscar's tone remains skeptical. "How can I be sure, Y/n? These pictures don't lie."

You feel a pang of hurt. "Oscar, please believe me. I would never hurt you like that."

There's a tense silence on the other end of the line before Oscar speaks again, his voice strained. "I need some time to think. I'll talk to you later."

The line goes dead, leaving you feeling shaken. As you hang up the phone, a sense of dread settles over you, wondering if your love for each other will be enough to overcome the doubts and rumors swirling around you.

-

Unable to bear the weight of uncertainty any longer, Oscar decides to confront you about the photo. He knows he needs to hear the truth from you, even if it's painful.

He knocks on your trailer door, and you open it, your eye bags dark and your eyes watery, signaling the stress you've been under. There's a palpable tension in the air. Oscar's expression is guarded, but it softens as he looks at you, his eyes searching yours for answers.

Your eyes widen, wanting to jump into his arms and seek comfort in his warmth, but you hold yourself back.

"Y/n, we need to talk," he says, his voice tinged with a mix of hurt and frustration.

You nod silently, gesturing for him to follow you to a more private spot away from prying eyes.

Once you're alone, Oscar confronts you about the photo, his words tinged with accusation. "What's going on, Y/n? I thought you said there was nothing between you and your co-star."

You feel a pang of guilt at the hurt in Oscar's eyes. "Oscar, I swear it's not what it looks like," you begin, but he interrupts you, his tone tinged with bitterness.

"I don't know what to believe anymore, Y/n. This isn't the first time I've heard rumors about you and him," he says, his voice trembling with emotion.

You reach out to touch his arm, desperate to convey the sincerity of your words. "Oscar, please, you have to believe me. There's nothing between me and my co-star. You're the only one I care about," you plead, your voice cracking with emotion.

Oscar's gaze softens slightly at your words, but the hurt in his eyes remains. "I want to believe you, Y/n, but it's hard when there's evidence like this," he says, gesturing towards the photo on his phone.

You feel a sense of despair wash over you, realizing the gravity of the situation. The trust between you and Oscar hangs in the balance, and you're not sure if it's enough to salvage your relationship.

Your lip trembles as you continue, "I didn't cheat." you tell him, "he opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off. "And the fact you think I would, is horrible, is that how little you think of me Oscar?" you ask, he swallows, he had his answer.

"I'm sorry I don't know what got into me," he says, you reach for him, hugging him tightly. You hide your face in his neck as he rests his head on yours, rubbing your back to calm you down.

You pull away, whispering, "I've missed you so much," before crashing your lips onto his. There's a newfound urgency in your kiss, and Oscar holds your waist while your hands rest on his cheeks. As the intensity of the moment builds, your shirt lifts slightly, exposing your skin. Oscar's cold hands touch your waist, his thumbs rubbing small circles.

Y/n," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath, "I'm sorry. I let my insecurities get the best of me. I should have trusted you."

You reach up, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his forehead, your touch gentle and reassuring. "Oscar, it's okay. We're both human, and we make mistakes. What matters is that we're here, together, now."

He nods, a weight lifting off his shoulders as he exhales deeply. "I love you, Y/n. I trust you."

Tears well up in your eyes at his words, overwhelmed with emotion. "I love you too, Oscar. More than anything."

@willowpains @ilovefictionalm3n

[veturiusofserra]

when you know, you know | s. r.

𑁤 synopsis: in an interview she opens up about how easy it is to be loved by Spencer, sharing the story of how they met and how his love inspired her music.

𑁤 pairing: spencer reid x singer!reader

𑁤 words: 1.090

𑁤 disclaimer: This was 100% inspired by something my bf said a while ago, and I love the song. I hope you will enjoy it too <3

“As we reach the close of our conversation, one thing’s bugging me. In your song “Margaret,” there’s this line ‘when you know, you know.’ Like, how do you just know someone’s the one? I’ve been through my share of relationships, yet I haven’t experienced that kind of thing you sing about. In your song, it’s all so clear-cut, like you can predict the future. It reminds me of a kid believing in the tooth fairy – sweet idea, maybe not quite real. But that’s probably what makes the song so good. It talks about this perfect love where everything just clicks, and all your worries disappear. Maybe that’s what I’m still looking for, or maybe it’s just for some lucky people. Either way, your song paints such a strong picture of love that it makes me wonder if I’ll ever have a ‘Margaret’ of my own.”

“It’s funny, right? The answer everyone gives is so simple: “you’ll just know.” Like love hits you like a lightning bolt, destiny calls, happily ever after guaranteed. But maybe that’s the problem. We get this picture-perfect idea of love from movies and books, and then we miss the real thing when it’s right under our noses. We set these high expectations, these checklists of what “the one” should be like. And if someone doesn’t tick every box, we write them off. It’s like searching for a flawless diamond, forgetting that even the most beautiful gems have tiny imperfections. Because guess what? We all mess up. You make mistakes, I make mistakes, everyone does. Maybe that’s what makes a real connection so special – accepting someone, flaws and all. Speaking of which, there’s this story I wanted to share with you.”

“We're all ears!”, the interviewer and the crew smile with waiting faces.  

“For the longest time, I believed I was destined to give love, but never receive it.  Maybe because... well, let’s be honest, I can be a bit self-absorbed, lost in my own head and neglecting others. But even with the no love life mantra, there was always this yearning for a family, a deep desire for children I could call my own. The ‘what ifs’ terrified me, though. Would I be a good parent? Would they be happy? Could I provide for them? Eventually, I resigned myself to a life of music, making people happy through my art, having a few friends, maybe a tragically young death – you know, the artist’s curse. 

Then, I found him. We both know Penny, but run in different circles. He’s in law, I’m an artist – about as different as you get, except for maybe a shared love of fancy vocabulary. We met at Penny’s birthday party, and while he claims it was love at first sight for him, I just thought he was the most handsome man I’d ever seen. But that was it. He was too shy to introduce himself, and I was sworn off men at the time. Funny how fate works, right?  We never crossed paths before, but after that night, it seemed like everywhere I turned, there he was. That’s when I decided to take a chance, and boy, I was so scared!

All those stories about soulmates and butterflies? They weren’t for me. Anxiety had been my constant companion for as long as I could remember. Butterflies just meant another battle brewing in my head. What I craved was peace, a steady hand to anchor me until I was ready to set sail. So, I built a friendship with him. We shared secrets, dreams, and vulnerabilities. He turned out to be a brilliant mind, a walking encyclopedia with an IQ of 187. Yet, he never made me feel inferior. He found humor in my quirks, and we seemed to complement each other perfectly. The more time we spent together, the more his words resonated: “We were designed for one another.”

And then, it hit me. Love. Deep, unexpected, and all-encompassing. It felt effortless, a perfect fit. But fear gnawed at me. It was all so new, so unfamiliar. Just as I was drowning in uncertainty, Penny, our mutual friend, reached out. She had something to show me – “Margaret.”

“She wrote it?” she asked, intrigued.

“Well, she started it,” I clarify. “Inspired by him, she penned the first lines that night after the birthday party. She couldn't shake the image of his longing gaze, a sight she’d never witnessed before. It felt sacred, a raw glimpse into his heart. The initial draft, rough around the edges, went something like this: ‘just writing for a friend. My shirt's inside out, and penmanship is messy. He met her on the rooftop, and she wore white. He said, ‘I think I’m in trouble.’ He saw flashes of the future.” A gentle smile graces your lips. 

“Seriously, that’s adorable.”

I nod, a blush creeping up my cheeks. “Right? Her words sparked inspiration within me. I wrote the rest, my mind consumed by-”

“By him.” she prompted, leaning in.

“He made love feel simple. Loving me was effortless for him, a stark contrast to the struggle I’d always imagined. It was like breathing, a natural and easy rhythm. He helped me discover the light that had been hiding within me all along.”

“There’s a saying,” the interviewer began, “to be loved is to be changed.”

I smiled. “I prefer a different one: to be loved is to be known. Because maybe, just maybe, he saw the affection within me all along, the part I couldn’t quite see myself.”

“You are indeed full of affection,” she said warmly. “Thank you for sharing this story with us.”

“Thank you for listening. I know it's a cliché, but there truly is someone out there for everyone. You never know what tomorrow holds, but deep down, a tiny spark ignites within us, guiding us towards that love. Trust it.”

“That wraps it up for our interview with the lovely Y/n! But before we say goodbye, there's one more message for her. Can we play it, Jonah?” A nod later, the studio fills with the sound of a familiar voice.

“Hey there, love. Just wanted to say congratulations on the album! You poured your heart and soul into it, and I’m incredibly proud. But hey, can you come home soon? Two days feels like an eternity without you. Miss my other half. Love you tons, sweetheart. And everyone listening, stream Ocean Boulevard! Dex says hi to mom, too.” A meow erupts in the background, eliciting a laugh from you and the studio crew.

thoughts? or prayers idk

[genderfluid-insomniac]

Hi! Hope you're having a nice, wonderful even, day or noon or evening or night; love your work and how quick you are with it but please don't forget to take care of yourself!

Can I ask for Furina and Wanderer (my two kinnies) with a s/o who usually acts cheerful with them and is the sunshine of the relationship except they have secretly been developing insecurities over time, either because of Wanderer making some comments that didn't really have much meaning to them like her eating a bit more than usual or her hair growing long or from them not being able to cheer up Furina after the whole Fontaine thing blew over and finally; they break down all together, not eating anything, not saying anything most of the time for fear of annoying or boring them and constantly telling them that they can break up with them any time they want as they don't want to force them into this relationship

I am and I hope you're having a wonderful day or noon or evening or night too! Thank you! You’re so sweet!

Furina and Wanderer with sunshine!s/o who usually acts cheerful with them except they have insecurities

Furina

In the days following the Fontaine prophecy coming true Furina could see you were particularly down and she didn’t know why. She tried her best to cheer you up but it was hard when she herself was still recovering from the prophecy coming true and being able to finally relax. To stop pretending to be someone she wasn’t.

Finding her identity and recovering from the disaster while trying to help out her normally peppy now solemn lover was difficult. Furina had tried so many things before it became really bad and turned into a very alarming situation. She brought the both of you to her favorite dessert place which put a smile on her face and faintly saw one grace yours before returning to your normal expressionless one.

Slowly she took a forkful of her cake and brought it up to your lips, smiling hopefully at you now that she would be happy if you were happy and enjoy the new freedom she had to live completely relaxed with you.

“Look I know I’ve been depressed for a while and you probably felt bad about being unable to cheer me up but you were the most important reason for me to try and live my life now. So I want nothing more than for us to have fun and enjoy living so wanna try a bite of my cake? It’s sweet and then we can make macaroni after with your favorite drink.”

Wanderer

Wanderer knows that he makes comments to people that seem insensitive and harsh but people closer to him (or people he didn’t push away) know they almost never had any real bite to them. One or more of his comments must have gotten to you because you haven’t been eating or drinking much and what you have been eating is what he’s been heavily encouraging. He was a bit unsettled at first but as days passed, days he thought would result in your return to your usual bright happy self, you didn’t return to your previous self if anything you got worse.

Your hair had grown not that you cared and you’ve been muttering how you don’t want him to be forced into a relationship, how you’d be okay if he broke up with you which sounded insane. Wanderer had found the person who genuinely cared for him and who he cared about as well and now you were suddenly alright with abandoning him again. No! He wasn’t at all going to leave you or let you leave him!

So one night he had enough of his half-assed plans and dragged you out to Sumeru City, gathering ripe fruit and tea leaves that catered to both of your tastes. He then helped you up the great tree to a sizable platform that stuck up and had a great view of the sky, something he knew was fake but it was just as beautiful as you.

“I don’t I probably said something dumb that might have offended you but I hope you know I didn’t mean it at all. You have stayed with me despite how harsh I come off as and like hell I want this relationship to end. Not when you’ve stayed with me and I care about you a lot. I’m sorry I said something that hurt you.”

[livyjh]

Come Sail Away ch.4

Bff’s dad!Joel Miller x Plus size!Fem!Reader

Series rating: EXPLICIT 18+

Chapter 4 rating: EXPLICIT 18+

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Your spring break has been saved by your roommate and best friend, Sarah Miller. She’s invited you to come on vacation with her and her dad, a man you’ve never met. But you didn’t think twice before accepting her invitation. When you finally meet her dad, Joel, you have an instant crush on him. You thought it was one sided… he proves you wrong.

Chapter warnings: mentions of snorkeling/swimming/ocean and marine life, drinking alcohol, making out, mentions of eating, and SMUUUT!! 🌹

Series Masterlist

Joel Miller Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/n… wake up.” Sarah’s voice interrupted your happy sleep as she gently shook you awake.

“Hm?” You slowly open your eyes and look at her.

“The ship just docked again. I let you sleep in a bit but my dad and I want to go snorkeling. You want to come with?” Sarah smiles down at you.

Her dad. Joel. You held back a dreamy sigh.

You suddenly got a burst of energy. “Yeah, I’d love to go!”

“Perfect.” She smiles. “Meet us up at the buffet!” She grabs her small backpack and leaves the room.

You close your eyes again, finally letting out the happy sigh. Last night with Joel was amazing, it almost didn’t feel real. But you were ecstatic that it was.

You got up and got into your bikini, putting on some jean shorts and a crochet crop top over it.

You put on your Birkenstocks and packed your bag with everything you’d need for the day; a change of clothes, sunscreen, water bottle, wallet, etc.

Snorkeling was going to be amazing. You hoped that you’d get a couple moments alone with Joel today. You couldn’t wait to see him.

Once you got to the buffet, you filled up your plate and went to the seating area to find Sarah and Joel.

You spotted Sarah, making eye contact. She waved you over to the table where she and her dad sat across from each other.

Joel turned around and then the world was in slow motion. He blinked as he focused his eyes on you, smiling wide, looking you up and down.

You smiled back at both him and Sarah, trying to stay nonchalant. You set your plate down and sat, your breasts pushing together and bouncing as you scoot your chair in, something that you could tell Joel noticed.

With them each sitting next to you, you could start to feel yourself get nervous. You wanted to talk to Joel, ask how he slept, tell him last night was beyond better than you could’ve imagined.

But you couldn’t. Not with Sarah there. You had to keep things looking… normal.

“How’d you guys sleep?” You ask, mainly looking at Sarah.

“Good.” She nodded.

“Like I was on cloud nine.” Joel smiled at you briefly.

“That’s good.” You nod, taking another bite of your food.

You all finish breakfast and then get off the ship, heading to a gorgeous beach known for having lots of turtles and colorful fish.

It’s a resort beach which means it has tons of private cabanas for rent, a large bar area with stools all the way around, and even an outdoor restaurant.

Joel rents a cabana for you three to put your stuff in while you go swimming. The cabana has four lounge chairs and a small side table between each of them.

You set your things down and took off your top, then your shorts. When you turn around to grab your sunscreen, you see Joel watching you. You smirk at him before looking away, making sure Sarah didn’t see.

You step out of the cabana and into the sun, soaking in the warmth of the Caribbean. There was a soft breeze and the air smelled sweet.

Sarah and Joel followed you out and you all start walking down to the shore with your snorkel stuff. You just got the goggles and breathing tube, not wanting to lug around fins.

The warm water felt welcoming as you walked in, the clearness of it amazing you. You swam around together for over an hour, spotting several turtles, countless beautiful fish, and even a small octopus. Soon, you three decided to head back to the cabana for a break.

Sarah sat down in the chair on the right side of the cabana, you sat next to her. Joel sat next to you, the last chair on the left being used to put bags on.

“I’m gonna go grab a drink.” Sarah said after a few minutes. “You guys want anything?”

“Get me whatever you’re having.” You smile.

“Gotcha. Dad?”

“I’m good, thanks.” He smiled at her.

“Okay. Be right back!” She bounced out of sight.

You and Joel immediately look at each other, looking around to make sure no one was going to see you through the open front of the cabana.

He gets up and leans over you, cupping your jaw with one hand. “Sweetheart… I have not been able to stop thinking about you.” He whispers, lips only an inch away from yours.

You let out a soft moan, reaching up to bring him closer by the neck until your mouths were interlocked.

His beard tickles your face as you make out for a few seconds. You wanted more. So much more.

He pulls back to look you in the eyes. “You look so pretty, baby.”

“Thank you, Joel.” You lean in for one more quick kiss. He smiles into it and it gives you butterflies.

He pulls away and nods as he sits back in his seat. Sarah comes back a minute later.

You sit and sip your drinks while you all chat about how much fun you’re having, how you and Sarah are doing at college, other random things that came up.

You and Sarah went out to snorkel one more time while Joel stayed at the cabana, claiming he was too tired.

You decided after a half hour that you were tired too, heading back in.

***

The three of you got back to the ship in the late afternoon and went to your rooms to change clothes and take naps before dinner.

At 6pm your phone alarm went off and you and Sarah got up and got ready real quick. You both went and knocked on Joel’s door, doing different beats/patterns until he answered.

“Hey, girls. Ready?” He smiled at you two.

“Yep.” You nod.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Sarah starts leading you all to the casual dining places. She ends up picking tonight, going into the Asian inspired restaurant.

The host seats you quickly, you and Sarah sitting in one side of a booth, Joel across from you two.

“Today was amazing.” You sigh happily and lean back.

“I know. I can’t believe we saw all those turtles!” Sarah wiggled in her seat a little, making you and Joel laugh.

“I’m glad you’re both having fun. Happy you were able to join us, Y/n.” He smiles at you softly.

“Me too. The Miller family knows how to have fun.” You smirk at him a little, with the side of your mouth Sarah couldn’t see.

A waiter then came over. “Hi, folks. Thank you for coming in tonight. Are we celebrating anything?”

“Not tonight.” Joel shakes his head.

“Alright, no worries! Are you ready to order?” The waiter asked.

You all nod and place your orders, the food coming in just a matter of a few minutes.

You start eating and then the young man that Sarah hung out with the other night slowly approaches the table.

“Sarah?” He raised a brow.

“Hey!” She waved at him and then looked to you and Joel. “Guys, this is Eli, he’s here with his siblings from New York!”

“Cool.” You smile.

Joel looks the boy over. “You better treat her good, or I’ll have something to say about it.” He intimidates.

“Dad!” Sarah whispers to him.

“I’m joking.” He laughs and then suddenly makes a straight face. “Mostly.”

You giggle at this and Joel looks at you with sparkling eyes, like your laugh just made his day. You suddenly had butterflies.

Sarah was thankfully preoccupied by Eli, the two of them talking.

“Meet me after dinner?” Eli asks her.

She looks at you and then Joel. “You guys okay with me hanging out with Eli for a while?”

You shrug and smile. “Sure.”

Joel nods. “That’s fine.”

“I’ll meet you at the pool in like a half hour?” Sarah looks at Eli again.

“Sounds good.” He smiles and then winks at her, before realizing he’d just done so in front of Sarah’s dad. He looked at Joel with wide eyes and an embarrassed smile before walking away.

You laugh again, quieter this time. Sarah elbows you for it.

“Ow!” You gasp dramatically.

“Whatever. That didn’t hurt.” Sarah snorts a laugh.

“No, it didn’t.” You snicker.

***

Once you all finish dinner, Sarah leaves straight from the restaurant to go see Eli. When she’s out of sight, you and Joel make sultry looks at each other.

“My room?” He smirks.

“Absolutely.” You wink.

You get on the elevator, unfortunately inside it with a couple of old people. You quickly got off of it at your deck and nearly ran to Joel’s room.

He walks inside first with you on his heels. Once the door closes behind you, he shoves you up against it. “You know how many times I almost reached over to touch you today?” He grins, eyes dark, large hands cupping your face.

“Tell me.” You smirk.

“I lost count.” He breathes the words before he kisses you deeply and passionately.

You moan into it, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as his hands roam down your chest and tummy, then around to your lower back and over your ass.

He gropes you roughly and you whine into his mouth, a sound that only gets him more excited.

You start pushing on him to move to the bed, his knees bending when you push him to sit down on the end. He looks up at you while you move to straddle him.

Joel scoots back on the bed a little to give you more space for your knees and calves.

He loves the sight of you in his lap, his hard cock already straining the fabric of his shorts.

You can feel it so you grind down against him, making him let out a broken moan. You run your hands up his broad chest and over his shoulders, fingers tangling in the hair on the back of his head. You pull to tilt his face up toward you before you kiss his lips softly.

He hums softly into it, hands finding your lush hips. You move your kisses away from his mouth, to his jaw, nipping at him gently.

You eventually kiss just below his ear and he shivers from it. When you suck his earlobe into your mouth, he gasps and then growls.

Before you know it, you’re flipped onto your back with him looming over you. “You’re such a tease.” He shakes his head.

“Come on, that’s foreplay.” You laugh.

He can’t keep up the dominant mask for long after he hears your laugh again. He smiles wide and is very obviously blushing. “That fucking laugh.” He sighs. “It just makes me want to kiss you.”

So he does. He kisses you and you can tell something new is there. Not just a sexual or primal urge, something more.

You sigh through your nose, legs tightening around Joel’s hips as you make out.

He pulls back just a little before nudging your nose with his. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispers.

“Thank you.” You grin, whispering back.

“S’just the truth.” He pecks your lips again before his nose trails down your neck and to the center of your chest.

He takes a deep breath in, loving your sweet natural scent. He reaches up and pulls your bralette and tank top straps down, further and further until the straps come off and your breasts are exposed.

You bite your lip as you watch him. He plants kisses along your left breast first, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking on it gently.

You start breathing faster as he reaches down with his free hand and the pushes his fingers down into your shorts.

He looks up at you and smirks around your nipple, pulling off with a *pop*. “No panties?”

You shake your head. “Easy access.”

“You’re something else, honey.” He laughs darkly and slides his hand down until his fingertips are hovering over your clit.

“Please, Joel.” You gasp.

“You’re so polite.” He winks and pushes his fingers against you, slowly massaging your sensitive bud.

He puts his mouth on your nipple again, sucking a little harder now. He starts to rub fast circles against you and your legs begin to shake.

“Oh fuck.” You whine.

He pulls away from your breast. “Tell me how good it feels.” His voice is low and rough.

“It feels s- so good, baby. Your thick fingers on my pussy-“ you gasp.

“Yeah? Anything you want more than my fingers?” He raises a brow.

“Your mouth.” You moan. “Your fucking huge dick.”

He rubs faster. “You can have it as soon as you cum for me.”

You nod, unable to form words as your orgasm barrels towards you. You whimper with each breath until finally ~

“Joel!!” You almost scream his name as you cum, legs squeezing shut around his hand.

He groans as he watches your O-face, almost cumming right there with you. “Goddamn, sweetie…” he starts to slow his fingers.

“No-!” You gasp. “Keep going!” You cry out.

His fingers pick up speed once again and in a matter of a few seconds, another orgasm washes over you.

You slowly come down and he pulls his hand out of your shorts, licking his fingers.

He helps you get out of your clothes before he takes off his own. He grabs a condom and rolls it over himself, looking at you with the kind of eyes that would have heart shaped pupils if you were in a cartoon.

“I wanna ride you.” You grin.

“After all that? Think you can?” He asks, concerned for your energy levels after two intense orgasms.

“Yeah. Trust me.” You smile and sit up.

“Alright, baby. Show me who’s boss.” He grins and sits down next to you.

You crawl over him, sitting in his lap like earlier, straddling him. You reach down and take his cock in hand, lining it up as you sit down on him.

You take a deep breath as you feel him go all the way inside of you. “Fuuuuck.” You breathe. You squeezed around him and Joel squeezed your hips, urging you to move.

You slowly lift up and then lower yourself back down with a long moan. You repeat these slow movements until you’re better adjusted.

He helps hold your hips as you start to bounce up and down on his dick, loving how it filled you so perfectly.

Your tits bounced in his face and you were sure he was in heaven right now. Your belly was jiggling too and the fact that you knew he thought it was adorable just made you more confident in it.

“Yeah, baby… look so good like this.” He says, moving his hands up to grab your breasts. He pinches your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, making you cry out with pleasure.

You throw your head back, hanging on to his shoulders for support. He starts to hammer up into you, moving with you in perfect harmony.

“I’m gonna cum.” You whine.

“I know, baby. You can wait. Hold out for me.” He breathes.

“Almost there.” He reassures you after a moment.

“Cum for me, sweet girl.” He grits the words through his teeth.

Your body finally releases, cunt pulsing around Joel. He feels this and it brings him to his finishing point, releasing inside of you. Part of you wished there weren’t a condom, just wanting to feel his load inside you.

You keep riding him until you’re both spent, moving off of him and laying down on your back, chest heaving.

He disposes of the condom and then settles in next to you. He pulls the covers up over you both, pressing his chest to your back and wrapping his arm around your waist.

He kisses the side of your neck, “You’re amazing.”

“I know.” You giggle.

He hums happily, moving to kiss your cheek.

You’re so sleepy you almost don’t hear him speak a minute later.

“Goodnight, baby.” He whispers.

All you can give is a satisfied “mhm” before you fall asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joel Miller tag list: @evyiione @chyannealaniz @cesspitoflove @supersingle @jrosie25 @blackfemalenerd @bongsrconfusing @milly-louise @farintonorth @brittmb115 @ashleyfilm @steverogers123 @doblasftcisco

Join the tag list here.

[caramelcleopatraa]

Golden Hour

word count: 1k

x: finished this short thing in an hour at work...... nothing else to say... enjoy :)

content: You sing “Golden Hour” for Roman Reigns at his wedding. Roman x Semeni, Roman x Reader, angst

You had been invited to sing at a wedding. You were excited. You think. You haven't gotten to sing at a wedding in a long time. Of course, this was different this time. Who’s wedding? Roman and Semeni, your longtime friends that have stuck with you since high school, despite you all pursuing different paths. A pro wrestler, a singer, and a model. Who knew you three would go on to be so successful. But that’s not the thought lingering in your mind, no, your heart as you clutch the microphone with obnoxiously sweaty hands.

It was just two lovers 

Sittin' in the car, listening to Blonde

Fallin' for each other

Pink and orange skies, feelin' super childish

No Donald Glover

Missed call from my mother

Like, "Where you at tonight?" Got no alibi

I was all alone with the love of my life

You stood at the front of the shiny marble dance floor, accompanied by a shiny, immense grand piano, and a string quartet. You stood farther out in front of the instruments to be seen, but not too far to the point where you were distracting. Singing Golden Hour for the newly wed as they twirled across the dancefloor, love written across their faces. You could almost smile. Almost

She's got glitter for skin

My radiant beam in the night

I don't need no light to see you

Shine

It's your golden hour (oh)

You slow down time

In your golden hour (oh)

God, that annoying, unbearable pain in your chest as you sang the song to your best ability, not showing the state you were trying to desperately betray. Why weren't you happy? Your best friend is getting married. It's not new news. Neither is the widespread burning in your chest. But you thought you had finally gotten over yourself. Countless journey entries, therapy sessions, hour phone calls to your friend Gianna, who tried her best to console you and be with you every time you called. But seeing them together, hand in hand, dancing along to your voice with their love for each other pushing and floating them across the floor. It was unendurable.

We were just two lovers

Feet up on the dash, drivin' nowhere fast

Burnin' through the summer

Radio on blast, make the moment last

She got solar power

Minutes feel like hours

She knew she was the baddest, can you even imagine

Fallin' like I did?

The string quartet sang along with you, cheering them on into their new path in life. Something you should be doing, but you're not. Closing your eyes. That's what you had resorted to doing. Closing your eyes, singing the best you could. You imagined a wonderful white and blue room, adorned with ambient lighting and clouds everywhere. Fog covered the ground, but formed around your feet as you walked through. So captivating, but free at the same time. You wore a wonderful white gown, with silver accessories that shined bright in any room. And you looked up at Roman, wearing a designer black suit, with a silver clip with etched in diamonds attached to his suit, and a blue handkerchief. 

For the love of my life

She's got glow on her face

A glorious look in her eyes

My angel of light

I was all alone with the love of my life

She's got glitter for skin

My radiant beam in the night

He took your hand as you two moved across the thick fog. No audience, no guests or family members, just you two. Sharing a special intimate moment with each other. Letting your love cloud your mind. Interfere with your judgment. Living in this beautiful moment. Your whole body tingled, feeling a gust of cold wind, dispersing your picture perfect daydream. They had glided past you like two flies in the hot summer heat. Her gigantic snow white dress brushing your toes as they smile stayed still. Well it was working until now. It's almost as if her snapping you out of your daydream made it worse. If only it was real

I don't need no light to see you

Shine

It's your golden hour (oh)

You slow down time

In your golden hour (oh)

A singular tear rode down your painted face. Staining the layers of makeup you had put on hours before the occasion. The camera man took a picture of you, probably mistaking your hot tear for a tear of joy. He couldn’t be more wrong. God, why were you here? Why did you even offer to do this for them? You should’ve known that you were going to break. It hurts. Seeing them together. In love. In a celebration and cheers to future happy memories, here you are. Questioning your placement here. Among these happy souls, as you stare holes into the side of their head. With anger? Disgust? Sadness? You didn't know. Maybe all three. Maybe none. The piano quiets and the string quartet fades. They take one longing look at eachother, and kiss. A loud explosion of head pounding applause followed. And you fakely followed suit. You wonder if you would have been more forward with him, that you would be standing in her place. All of these people would be clapping with you instead of her. If you would have told her to leave him alone, maybe they would have never gotten married. And you wouldn't be standing there, cursing yourself for being so scared. You looked at him with longing, and her with confused jealousy. As she stood there, and danced with your first love. They looked at you with unnerving happiness, their eyes and smiles thanking you for giving them such a special moment to remember. And you smiled too, wiping your tears to make things seem more dramatic. But Roman's face changed. Seeing right through your paper thin smile. And you knew he would ask you about it later.

Can they even imagine falling like you did?

🏷️ tags :) @reignsboy19 @2-muchsauce @theninthwonder @harmshake @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @alyyaanna @empressdede @badbitchcentralinc @christinabae @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @cyberdejos2 @murrylove @sassginaswanmills @pixiedust4000

[thesaintscanthelpmenow]

Bandaid.

*implied canon typical violence, blood, marriage of convenience, husband!Billy, nudity, language, f/reader*

I wrote this in November of last year and forgot about it. I found it going through my gazillion documents, and trying to organize. :)

“ @e-dubbc11 @milea @thejanecampaign @bookloverfilmoholic @cant-help-simping @aoi-targaryen @zz-kennedy @vaguekayla @tortilla-chips-and-allioli @terry2227 @snowkestrel @firequeensposts @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @danzer8705 “

“Billy, you’re bloody again!” You said, as your husband came in the door that night, wounded and bleeding, fingers with dried blood on them.

You’d been sitting up waiting for him, worried out of your mind that something had happened to him, that he’d died.

He looked over at you on the couch as you downed your wine, slamming the glass down, “That’s what happens when you get shot.” Billy said calmly, kicking his combat boots off, wincing as he moved, and moving to the whiskey cabinet, pulling out a large bottle and unscrewing the lid.

He didn’t bother with the glass, and simply took a large drink from the bottle. The burn from the whiskey helped with the pain in his abdomen.

You looked exasperated, staring at him in disbelief, before you stomped over to him in your nightgown. He watched you coming from his peripheral, amused by your attitude. You were so goddamn pretty when you were mad, he thought, taking another drink.

“Sit down, and take your sweater off.” You glared, pointing to the dining room chair and his bloodied sweater. He obeyed, and his casual attitude had you fuming.

You tried not to watch him take it off, and admire his corded muscles. He was lithe and beautiful. You never thought a marriage of convenience that your father set up would result in the sweet love you had for Billy.

He listened to you grumble angrily to yourself about men and their recklessness, as you grabbed everything you needed, before kneeling between his legs with all of it. He could help but feel himself grow excited at the sight of you in your pretty nightgown.

And you were all his.

You began sewing the wound closed on his abdomen, still grumbling under your breath. Billy had pulled the bullet out, and put a bandaid on it, of all things.

He winced, drinking his whiskey as you worked. But his fingers snaked into your hair, stroking your scalp, and your anger seemed to melt away as you pressed your thighs together, eyes fluttering as you looked up at him from underneath your eyelashes.

“You’re real pretty, sweetheart.” Billy husked.

You glared half heartedly. “Oh, shut up, you.” But your cheeks burned.

He smiled, taking another sip of whiskey. “I have halfa mind to have you against the counter.” He said, as you pulled away from him, picking up all your stuff, and cleaning up.

“And rip out what I just did?” You asked incredulously, washing your hands before toweling them dry.

“I don’t give a shit,” he said, following you into the bedroom, undoing his belt with one hand. You watched him undress, feeling heat in your belly, as you climbed into the bed.

You looked away as he dropped his jeans, an ache between your thighs despite your earlier words.

He climbed in next to you, completely naked, and even after a year married, your cheeks burned, and you turned shy.

He pulled you against him, “Your warmth helps the pain.” He rasped.

You huffed, “Oh, Billy. What am I gonna do with you?”

He only grinned, eyes hooded, and cheeks dimpling.

What, indeed.

[bloodyshadow1]

I'm really in a storm x wolverine mood. I don't normally care for m/f ships (because lets be real neither of them are straight) but I've loved the two of them together since I was a kid and first watched the animated eps One Man's Worth. It was just so refreshing to see from the played out love triangle that haunted the series and would never stop.

Storm and Wolverine were two people in love in the end of the world, and they were sweet with each other. I like them as friends, but they have one of the best relationships, platonic or romantic, in the history of X-men imo. I think what makes them work better than most is they're kind of the perfect version of friends to lovers, though they start out kind of antagonistic to each other.

But truthfully, I think that makes them work best is that they see each other completely for who they are. To Logan, she's not just storm the superhero, the goddess, or the most beautiful woman in the world. She all that and more because to him, she is Ororo. To Ororo it's the same thing, he's not just wolverine the edgy hero, the savage beast in man's skin, the heartbroken immortal. To her, he's also everything and more in Logan (or James depending on when, but I think to Ororo he is Logan).

They're a great contrast, that works to compliment each other in ways most x-men couples don't. It's not just about the big epic moments in their relationship. It's him jumping in front of her as a shield, be her side as a companion and partner, or behind her following her charge. It's about how gentle and kind she is to Laura, who is his daughter when no one else is. It's that he could be the angriest he's ever been and she could get him to stop with a word, that she's not afraid to stand in front of him with his claws drawn. It's when she is freaking out and letting her powers run wild, it's him tanking wind and lightning if it means being able to comfort her. It's him being willing to kill anyone that hurts her, that threatens her, that's rude to her, that makes her cry, but stopping short, both because he knows she wouldn't want that and also because he knows she can take care of her self and get her own justice. It's her never leaving him alone to wallow in his sorry when they lose someone, even when he tells her and everyone else to leave. It's the two of them having a slow gentle night together drinking and remembering.

Again I don't normally gush about m/f couples but I really love the two of them. And I hate that Marvel will never let the two of them be happy together, at least not for long. It genuinely bothers me how they'd be perfect for each other, but never get a chance to, while the same boring love triangle is still something after decades. I will ship these two in every form of x-men media no matter what marvel says because I'd rather have a few sweet moments with them being friends than most of their canon relationships. (not Romy, Rogue and Remy are also precious to me)

[inkmonster21]

Sing for Me

11. The Missing Songbird

Cooper Howard × Fem!Reader / The Ghoul × Fem!Reader

She's a singer the nation adores. He's the actor everyone respects. What happens when these two get entangled in a heated affair? Passion, regret, rage, and even murder will commence.

From before the bombs drop to the vast wasteland, these two souls live for one another.

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

Tagged: @fallout-girl219 @harmfulb1tch @themadhattersqueen @one-of-thewalkingdead

(Y/n) (l/n) lay frozen in that chamber for centuries. Stuck in a dreamland where everything was perfect. He should’ve left her there. She had peace in a sleep filled with dreams that would never come true.

But he was bored. He wanted a life, and a family, and no one was letting her out on their own accord. So why not him? He already knew everything about her. He could praise her and provide a good life for her here in the Vaults.

Henry, now commonly known as Hank MacLean wanders to Vault 31. Searching row after row of frozen chambers until he came across what he was looking for. Posted up in the seat, blue lips, and frosted lashes (y/n) (l/n) lay undisturbed. He smiles, pressing all the needed codes for her release. He injects her with a syringe. Just a little memory wipe to make the process easier on his part. He transports her to Vault 33, setting her up on the metal examination table and hooking an IV into her arm. All he could do was wait. He wouldn’t be so bored anymore with her around.

~

I open my eyes but quickly close them again due to the bright white light. I reach out into the air, my body weak. “Help,” I whisper with the little energy I have in my bones. My throat was dry and my lips were numb. My vision comes soon after the feeling in my fingertips. I look down at myself, seeing a blue suit lined with yellow. I choak out a sob, not entirely sure of why I’m sad. I was so confused. I couldn’t remember anything. The overwhelming feeling of fear taking root.

I look around quickly through tear-soaked eyes. I’m lying on a table, an IV drip in my arm. I start to breathe heavily. Was I sick? Did I pass out? Where was everyone? Where was I?

Who am I?

Then I heard it, “You’re alright. Would you like some help sitting up?” A single voice that calmed the nerves. I looked up to see a man. A small, weak man, with a wide friendly smile, “My name, is Hank. Everything is okay. Do you remember where you were before you fainted? Why you were running?” I stare at him in confusion. I shake my head, covering my eyes. “I… I don’t remember anything.” Hank pressed a smile and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Well, you’re safe now. I’ll grab a tray of food and some water and be right back. You must be starving.” I feel my anxiety rising as he steps away. The fear of being alone again with unanswered questions claws at my brain. “Wait…” I reach for him, this stranger. “Would you stay? Please?” Hanks's smile spreads over his cheeks, “of course I will.”

Day after day Hank would arrive with breakfast, spending the hours of the day teaching me about the Vaults and how the community functions. It sounded like a dream. “I have your file from the Overseer of 31,” Hank excitedly says as he types away on his Pip-Boy. “So soon? I thought you said it would take them a week.” Hank smiles down at his screen. “It has your name.” A smile grows on my face.

A real name. My name! Something factual I could hold onto in this sea of uncertainty. I grab his arm tugging him close, looking down at the screen. I read the name slowly, the information warming my chest. “Melody Richards.” Hank smiles at me, “I think it’s a beautiful name.”

I sit with a grin, content with being Melody. Content with being someone.

“Everyone will love you, Melody,” Hank reassured me as he walked us down the corridor, arm in arm. Vault 33 had put together an entire function just for me. To welcome me into their community.

Life was good. I felt right at home in Vault 33 with Hank. He took care of me. He made sure I was always happy. It was hard for me to believe sadness was still an emotion I could have. We married soon after, and my days were happy. I was assigned to teaching, which I was surprisingly good at. Maybe I was a teacher in my past life. It had been a year and Hank and I were just so happy. The daily routine is memorized by my brain. Every day just like the last. A predictable happy day. Until one individual day when everything changed.

“Girls, is there something you’d like to say,” I ask politely as a group of 3 girls. The bell has rung, and class is over, but yet they remain in their seats. They giggle as they look at me. I feel myself shrink. Was something on my face?

Becca, a 13-year-old girl with long blonde hair smiles at me. “You look just like Mary from that movie we just saw last night. She’s so pretty.” I tilt my head, “I didn’t know I missed movie night! I wish I had known.” The girls jump in excitement, “We’re about to go watch it again! Do you want to come? We need a chaperone anyway.”

It was only 3:00, I didn’t have to make dinner for another hour or so. I could use a little break. I shrug my shoulders, “Sure, why not? Lead the way, girls.”

They skipped down the hall telling me all I needed to know about the film. “So Mary is a singer and she works for this bad guy who owns the club. Bill, the detective is trying to catch the club owner but falls for the singer in the process. He saves her and then she tells him off! And he chases her in the rain! They are so cute! Ugh! I wish I could meet someone like that.”

We take our seats in the theater, waiting for the picture to roll. The screen lights up, and a nightclub scene appears. The picture drifts to a stage where a stunning young woman walks through the curtain. She begins to sing. Her voice swims through the room beautifully. I watch in amazement as she belts the song. I wish I could sing like that.

A man enters to club and is instantly taken by Mary. She sings to him, reaching out. He trails from table to table until he takes a seat in the very front. She walks down sits on his table and finishes her song. The man smiles at her. It warms my chest to see a new love.

I did look similar, but in no way was I more than a resembling face to the old actress.

At the dock Bill pulls her away from gunfire, shielding her in the street. “You have to go, Mary.” She shakes her head, “I told you. I can handle myself.” He turns to her, cups her cheeks, and brings her in close for a passionate kiss. “I know you can, but if you get hurt. I won’t be able to handle myself.” He stroked her cheek lightly.

In such focus, I don’t think twice about the cold ghostly touch on my own cheek. I watch in a trance as they express their feelings. I run my fingertips over my lips, feeling a light tingling. What a reaction! This film was something else. The two actors sold the roles. They acted just like they really loved each other. The film finished and I was hooked.

The next few days I rented every film and every record by (y/n) (l/n). I danced in the kitchen as I made dinner. Spinning around I place the meal into the oven.

Hank walks in, a confused look present. I giggle and grab his hands. “Dance with me.” I hum lightly to the song as I attempt to get him to join. He doesn’t. Instead, he walks over to the radio and turns the record off. I watch him, and an unfamiliar clench in my chest rises. His eyes bore into mine. “Melody, where did you get that?” His stare is lined with a nervous smile. “The library. They’ve started renting out movies and records now.” He nods as he watches me. I return to cooking dinner silently. I turn my head to look at Hank. He reads the back of the record case with furrowed brows.

The cover stands out. She really was beautiful. Clad in a silky red dress, her hair done nicely, and makeup to perfection. “Some of my students said I look like her.” I smile at the thought of being that stunning. Hank looks at me, no expression on his face. “I don’t see it.” He gathers up the films and records into a pile. “I’m not a big fan of this type of thing. You’re so much better, Melody. I don’t want you to get a complex." Hank exits the vault without another word.

The right thing to do would be to listen to him. he was my husband and the voice of reason in the dynamic. However, I can hear someone. Someone deep down calling out. Begging me to sing those songs. I lay in the bed staring blankly at the wall. Someone won’t let me rest. Someone is clawing at my skin from the inside out begging to escape. I look at Hank. The man I had come to know seemed like a stranger. Such an out-of-character act for him. He loved music, any type.

I feel the haunting pull. Forcing me to get out of bed and slowly creep down the illuminated hall. I wonder, feeling my feet carry their way. I stop at the doors to the theater. The invisible tug pulls me into the room. The only light was upon the stage. A ghostly smile grows on my face as I advance to the stage. I stand on the elevated wooden floor, looking out over the rows of seats.

I can’t explain why or how, but I began to sing. A song I had never known or heard begins rolling out of my mouth. Emotion taking over my body. This lost soul pulling their way to the light.

“I can hear you but I won't

Some look for trouble while others don't

There's a thousand reasons I should go about my day

And ignore your whispers, which I wish would go away”

I see the mist of a figure seated in the middle. His eyes are bright and his smile is wide. He feels so familiar. Something inside myself was wrong. This wasn’t me. I wasn’t a singer. I wasn’t a performer.

“You're not a voice, you're just a ringing in my ear

And if I heard you, which I don't, I'm spoken for I fear

Everyone I've ever loved is here within these walls

I'm sorry, secret siren but I'm blocking out your calls

I've had my adventure, I don't need something new

I'm afraid of what I'm risking if I follow you”

The figure is closer now, allowing the light to bleed into their frame. He stands from his seat, taking slow steps towards the stage. I fall to my keens awaiting him. It was the only thing that felt right.

“What do you want? 'Cause you've been keeping me awake

Are you here to distract me so I make a big mistake?

Or are you someone out there who's a little bit like me?

Who knows deep down I'm not where I'm meant to be?”

It’s him. The man from the films. He pulls himself onto the stage, cupping my face in his palms. The warmth of his hands has me believing he’s real. He’s here with me.

“Don't you know there's part of me that longs to go

Into the unknown

Into the unknown

Into the unknown”

I cling to him as I sing. His smile couldn’t widen anymore. His eyes dazzling as he watches me. His touch pulled the lost soul to the surface. Pulling her out and tossing Melody inside the cage.

This has been an entire trick. I see my entire past in his orbs. The movie, the secret meetings, the months of sadness, the party, the divorce, the engagement, Barb, and Vault Tech…

I breathe heavily as I finish the song. I stare at my hands I allow a tearful laugh to escape. I'm back... I'm me... The heavy weight of the unknown universe is gone.

It's just Cooper and I. I look up expecting to see him, but I'm alone. "Cooper?" I call out only to be met with my echo. The doors in the back open swiftly. I smile watching his figure walk down the dark path.

"Cooper." I go to run into his arms, but I stop at the sound of the voice, "You just couldn't leave it alone. Could you?" Hank advances the stage, stalking me with his eyes. "Henry." I back away with each step he takes.

"Where is he?" He shrugs, "Probably dead." He extends a hand, "Why don't you just come back with me? We have a good life." I shake my head, my back hitting the lush red curtains. "You tricked me!" Henry tosses his head back with a dark laugh. "I saved YOU!"

He lunged at me, grabbing my frame in his grasp. I scream as I struggle against him. "No!" I kick against him, "I'm not going back!" Tears fall from my eyes, "COOPER!" I ball as I violently thrash against Henry. He pulls out a syringe from his pocket. Shaking his head he holds me down. "I've got an idea on how to make you more... compliant." He stabs the needle into my neck. Second after second, I feel my limbs weaken. I fought to keep my eyes open, but I lost. Falling into my death that was disguised as a restful slumber.

~

Hank MacLean buzzed around the lab, watching the machine craft such a perfect specimen. “She’s beautiful.” He whispers lowly, in shock, he had never seen such an astonishing creation.

Fastened in a tube lay a newly built machine, recreated from past generations, but was lost, until he reconstructed it… reconstruccted her. He recreated her from the ruins she once was. Sitting in the dark storage unit, rotting away in the grave of all the failed experiments and equipment. Where the past had failed the future will succeed.

The young Hank overlooked the newly finished machine. She was sparkly. Her skin was smooth, her lashes long, her cheeks the color of rose, her lips plump, makeup drew on to perfection. She looked just like she did in the movies.

With one finger he types a single code into the computer system with haste. As the shield opens fog rolls out of the tube, kissing the floor. Her eyes open, knitting her brows together. A calmness washed over her. She steps out of the chamber completely nude. She smiles at the small madman. “Hi there, I’m, Melody. How can I be of assistance, Mr. MacLean?”

She was easier to… control. Hank had an easy life in the vaults, mostly because his synthetic humanoid wife listened to his every command without question She cooked his favorite meals, and cleaned until the home was spic can span. She was the perfect wife. What else could he want?

Short answer? He wanted Rose. One of the newcomers in a trade with Vault 32. He had become obsessed with her. Her beauty was impeccable. Not fake like Melody’s drawn-on liner. She was the sweetest creature he had ever come to know. Rose was made for him. Unlike Melody who Hank crafted to fit his narrative. However, this had to be fate. No one had made his heart beat like Rose. That night as he returned home for dinner. He had a plan. One final act and he would be free to woo Rose. To have and to hold her forever. He just had to get rid of Melody first.

He hauled her mechanical body to the top floor, disposing of her and all of the remaining items. Her belongings, movies, albums, clothes. Anything Hank had hidden away to shield the truth from her. It worked for some time. He wanted more. He had the perfect wife, but he wanted real raw emotions. Yes, she has a real brain and a heart, but it never truly belonged to him. She would forever feel the attachment to the old actor long gone with the land.

He set everything down with a huff. He took one glance at her cold emotionless face before looking down at his wrist to input the codes. The codes to shut her off, to put her to death once and for all.

Just as he brings his finger down to hit the last number, his finger curls around his hand, and forcefully turns it upwards. The synthetic copy of (y/n) holds Hanks's wrist with a bone-crushing grip. She leans in, dark eyes as she bends his wrist to look at the screen.

“You were going to shut me off?” She twitches her head. An internal battle raged in her mind. Two lives battle for dominance, but clash together in a confusing mixture. Hank yelps as he tries to hit the last number, but she is faster. She quickly breaks his other wrist. He screams in agony, glaring at her. “You bitch!” He grits his teeth as he tries to grab ahold of her. She kicks him in the face knocking him out cold.

Get the box and go.

Get the box and go.

Get the box and go.

Get the box and go.

She twitches as she grabs the box in her hands.

Run.

Run.

RUN!

The internal voice screams the commands. She swiftly opens the vault door, the sunlight shining in blinding her. She doesn’t look back at the sorry excuse of the man who had created such a machine. She left in search of something unknown.

[plentyoffandoms]

https://www.tumblr.com/plentyoffandoms/751377037239975936/hi-hope-you-are-well-are-your-requests-open?source=share

I'm good thanks.

That's awesome to hear.

Can I request for Lord Alfred Debling. Please and thank you.

He finds a wife who is just as obsessed about astrology as he is about nature, which she also received ridicule for. The marriage was arranged but they bond over they're interests. She travels with him since she can use the stars to navigate. They eventually settle at his estate once she gets pregnant. They have the cutest litter of children running around. And they're just the sweetest family. The kids names are even themed to their interests.

Our Family

Lord Debling x f/Reader

Main Masterlist ♡ Bridgerton Masterlist

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Gifs and photos do not belong to me. 1st gif @didanagy

Warnings. None

Requested by anonymous. I hope you like it, and such a cute idea

WC: 836

My wife and I were strolling in our garden, with our children running around. It was getting late in the evening, and it was the perfect time to look up into the night sky.

Our children were very excited as the night sky had no clouds and they could see the stars. They are also excited as the summer flowers are starting to bloom, and many bugs are starting to come out due to the warmer weather coming on.

My wife and oldest daughter, Ivy, were discussing their latest book they had read, and I was keeping an eye on the younger children, but their oldest brother, who is Ivy's twin, Berry was keeping them from wondering off.

When I first met my darling wife all those years ago, I was not happy. My parents and her parents got together and arranged our marriage.

Her and I are considered odd in our society as my love of nature and her love of astrology. Most people could not wrap their heads around it.

Our parents were concerned that my way of life at the time was no means for a lady. I was leaving after the wedding and her staying at our estate, but not her.

She joined me on my adventures, getting to know the real me, and I got to know her. I showed her the beauty in our world, and she showed me the beauty of our vast sky.

The first few days into my trip, I became concerned that we were getting lost, but she showed me how to navigate with the stars.

I truly became memorised by her, and I slowly fell in love with the woman my parents arranged for me to marry.

Once she became pregnant, I decided that it was time for us to settle at our estate and start to make a home worthy of our children.

Archer and Basil ran past me, laughing, bringing me out of my memories.

"Now boys, please watch where you are going." I said to them, not wanting to ruin their fun, but for then not to get hurt or hurt one of their siblings.

"Yes, father." They muttered before running off, playing some game of tag that is only between the two of them.

I helped my wife up the hill, as she was once again pregnant, but our sweet little Cordelia came rushing down the hill, wanting to help her mother up the hill.

Cordelia is the youngest at four years of age and is excited to be a big sister.

My wife sat down on the bench I had placed here not long after we came home.

"Now, you all know the rules. No fighting, no shoving, no yelling. We all get a turn." I didn't like to impose 6 many ruled on my children as our society does that already, but after the first time we did this, and the telescope got broken, their mother and I knew that some rules had to be put in place.

I stood next to the telescope as our children, from oldest to youngest, looked up into the night sky, completely in awe.

Ivy, Berry, Aurora, Archer, Basil, our other set of twins, Willow, Jupiter, Celeste, and Cordelia all took their turns, then rushed to their mother's side, asking her questions.

"Now, now, my darling children, it is your mother's turn." I said as they parter for me to get to her, to help stand her up from the bench.

"Take your time, dear. We have all night." She gave me a soft smile and leaned into look into the telescope. Our children ran off to play the scavenger hunt game I made for them before we came out here.

They had to find a certain bug or plant and cross it off their list. I even drew pictures next to what they need to be looking for.

Once, I knew the children were occupied, safe, and having fun, which I could tell by the squeals of laughter coming from around our garden, I wrapped my arms around her waist and placed my head on her shoulder.

"Oh, Alfred, it is just beautiful." She said as she straightened and leaned back into my arms.

"Not as beautiful as you, my beautiful wife."

"You shush now, husband. You are going to make me become vain with all your praises." Her and I laughed at that.

I turned her around in my arms so we were facing one another, I kissed her while placing my hand on her stomach, her and I was giggling at feeling our newest one kicking.

"Oh gross, they are kissing again." I heard Archer say before running off.

"How about when we are done here, and they are put to bed, you and I have some fun our bedroom."

"It's like you are trying to get me pregnant, even though I am already pregnant." She teased.

"We make lovely children." I told her.

"That we do Alfred, that we do."

Tag list: @madhatterbri

[runningfrom2am]

requiem // part one

summary: according to coriolanus snow, his best friend had the most beautiful voice in all of panem. she had been training her whole life constantly to get where she was; being up for a residency at the most elite opera house in all of panem. singing was her passion. her true love; and when that got stripped from her in a second, his world became a whole lot quieter. he loathed every minute of it.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.5k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: opera singer!mentor!reader (blink and you'll miss it), she's kind of a prodigy!! p cool imo, mute!reader, bestfriend!coryo, friends to lovers trope ooo, mentions of graphic violence early on (particularly the prologue) but after that it's pretty safe, depictions of ptsd/trauma, mental illness and minor suicidal ideation but at least she's not entirely alone, descriptions of minor medical treatments and use of medication.

a/n: hi again! obligatory note to say sorry i didn't update a couple days ago i meant to but i got hit by a car and then i was working lmao (i'm fine but the ao3 curse did in fact find me)

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

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"Mister Snow." Coriolanus's head jerks up at his name from where it was resting against his palm, nearly having fallen asleep by the side of your bed. You were out cold and had been for close to a week now, but part of him hoped he would be there when you eventually stirred.

"We have to ask you to leave now, but you can come back tomorrow after seven," The nurse tells him, a sympathetic smile on her face. This was the sixth night in a row they'd had this exact conversation.

"Of course, thank you," he grumbles as he stands up, rubbing his eyes.

"How is your mentorship going?" she asks, just for the sake of making conversation. "It is very exciting. Congratulations, by the way."

"Thanks..." he hums, hand sliding over his jaw in slight discomfort. He had little to no interest in his tribute. It was clear Lucy Gray had no shot at winning, and he had an even smaller shot at the Plinth Prize thanks to her. Now, he could hardly even stomach looking at her. "The Songbird," as everyone called her. 

In reality, his best friend had been forgotten the moment Lucy Gray Baird set foot on that stage in District Twelve and began to sing, and he loathed her for it. The way that all eyes turned to you next to him during the reaping as soon as his tribute's lips parted and began to sing made his stomach turn even now.

Coriolanus's eyes parted from the screen to look over at you, a small teasing smile on his face as he reached out to nudge you with his elbow when instead he was met with an expression of horror on your face. He could see the way your neck tensed as you swallowed hard, and he looks around to see almost everyone else's eyes on you as well for just a moment at a time, stealing glances in your direction.

Your jaw tightens while you grind your teeth together. She was good. But you were better at masking your discomfort with the whole situation, looking down to smooth out your black skirt where it lay across your lap and ignoring all the eyes that had fallen on you.

"It's going well," he lies in response.

"I'm glad to hear that. She's got a real talent, that girl," She smiles, and Coriolanus knows she's not trying to take a jab at the girl lying unconscious a few feet away, but he couldn't see it any other way. "Well, best of luck to her. And you, of course."

"Thanks. Have a good night," Coriolanus replies almost under his breath, taking a final glance at you fast asleep in the cold-looking hospital bed, neck bandaged down to your bruised shoulders before he leaves for the night.

It's sunny out when Coriolanus makes his daily trek to the Capitol Zoo to feed his tribute, and his academy uniform feels heavier on his shoulders than what he's used to.

His tribute smiles as she gets up and brushes off the front of her rainbow dress, making her way over to the bars to greet him. "Good afternoon, Coriolanus. Doin' well today?" she asks as he gets closer, already digging into his bag for the food he brought her.

"Fine," he mumbles in response, holding the folded napkin out to her that contains a cookie he took from the academy lunchroom.

"Thank you," Lucy Gray says as she takes it, unfolding the small cloth from around it and taking a bite. Chewing on it, she looks up at him again, taking note of the bags forming under his blue eyes. "I'm sorry about your friend."

His eyes flick from the cookie she was eating back up to hers, a slight glare behind them as he swallows stiffly. "Yes, well, she's alive," he tells her, looking back down as she breaks the cookie in half and holds it out to him.

"No, thank you," he shakes his head, pushing her hand away with his own.

"You should eat. You look like you need the energy," she says sympathetically.

He sighs because she's probably right. He takes it from her hand carefully, already breaking off a piece. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Lucy Gray knew their little routine by now. It was obvious when he brought her food the first time that he was going hungry. She had seen the signs enough back home to recognize it even here, hidden within what was supposed to be the endless opulence of the Capitol.

"Would you like to talk about it?" she asks as he begins to chew the tiny piece of the cookie, mindful of chewing and swallowing it slowly. He looks up at her again, confusion in his eyes. "Your friend, I mean." she explains.

"No." he answers quickly, shaking his head.

His semi-hostile response only leads Lucy Gray to believe that this girl she had seen get attacked meant something to him. Though, she already knew that when they walked into the zoo arm-in-arm like birds of a feather minutes before the girl was attacked, and her mentor had to be dragged away from her by Peacekeepers when a medical team finally arrived.

"Will you tell me about her?"

"About Y/N?" he asks, eyes softening just a bit.

Lucy Gray nods in confirmation, a small smile on her lips as she urges him on.

"She, uh..." Suddenly he doesn't know where to start with you. Your parents' names are what would traditionally come first in the Capitol, but he knew that would mean nothing to the girl in front of him. That you were his best and only real friend? That you were a singer, too, just like her, but you would likely never sing another note again? "She's a singer in training for the Opera House on Presidential Way. She is... she was very good."

Lucy Gray's eyes light up as he speaks. "She was a singer?"

Coriolanus nods, putting his focus back into eating.

"She must have been amazing," Lucy Gray says, trying to make comforting conversation.

"She is," he corrects her quickly, disguising it as agreement, despite having been the one to refer to your singing abilities in the past tense.

"Of course." She agrees, a sympathetic smile on her face. "I didn't mean..."

"They are making some changes to the Games." He cuts her off, wanting to move on to avoid having to think about the current state of his best friend. It makes his heart sink and the accompanying dread causes that awful burning sensation behind his eyes that makes him want to cry. "So... you need to sing again. Get people to like you. Then I'll be able to send you things in the arena to keep you alive."

Lucy Gray seems hesitant, letting out a huff with the slight shake of her head, looking around before locking her eyes back on him. "I don't sing when I'm told. I sing when I have something to say."

Coriolanus is jarred by her statement, tilting his head a bit and clenching his jaw at the notion and her ferocity behind it. He can't help it when the sudden, stark difference between Lucy Gray and his best friend hits him like a thunderstorm coming in quick on a sunny day. 

She sang when she had something to say, you sang because you had to. This fact would keep him up at night for weeks.

The games had come and gone, and there had been no winner this year. Your tribute was shot dead the day she attacked you, and Dr. Gaul saw it as some kind of justice that after your assault, the bombing, and the deaths of your other classmates, the death of all those District kids would keep their home districts from rebelling. From seeing the Capitol as vulnerable, or something like that. You really couldn't care less. At least Felix and the twins were lucky enough to have succumbed to their injuries.

The hospital was cold and dark at almost all hours of the day. You couldn't do a thing besides sit there and wait. For what, you weren't even sure.

"She's not having a good day today," The nurse informs Coryo as he checks in to visit you. He comes by every day, sometimes multiple times a day to see you, and you have your good and bad days. He's well used to that by now.

"Has she eaten?" he asks, and the nurse shakes her head.

"Refused to touch anything we brought her," She sighs, but she's fighting back a smile, which makes him raise an eyebrow at her. Why would she be smiling at that?

"She will be able to go home tomorrow," She smiles, hearing the question he never verbalized. "I thought you might like to tell her."

"Oh... I see," Coryo hums, looking down the hall toward the staircase he would soon take to get to you.

"You don't seem pleased," She states quizzically, her grin fading.

"Why is she going home?" He asks. "She still can't even speak."

The nurse looks down, pursing her lips. "As the doctor mentioned, there's no guarantee that she will ever get her voice back. I'm sorry, truly, but there's nothing more we can do for her here. It's better that she's home with her family recovering somewhere more comfortable."

"Right," He swallows, nodding curtly at her. "Thank you," He replies simply, brushing past the nurse's station to go down to your room. 

He can always hear it before he sees it, the echo of opera music cycling through your favorite records time and time again, filling the quiet hall with something pleasant as soon as he opens the door from the stairwell.

"Y/N," You look up from where you're sitting in the corner, tilting your head at him. Coryo smiles as he walks in, and you wish you were in a better mood, to be a better host; as good of one as you could be when you were in the hospital and couldn't speak a single word to him. "How are you feeling?" He asks, already knowing the answer.

You shake your head, a pout forming on your lips. The flowers people had brought you in your first couple of weeks were wilting, and then they stopped bringing them. Your whole life you had been praised for your voice; since you were six years old, the Capitol had seemingly been buzzing with hope for your future. You would be the most beautiful, accomplished singer Panem had ever seen - no one doubted it, but within weeks you had been completely forgotten. Replaced by the image of the girl who had sung at the reaping and once in an interview. Your room was quite a sad reflection of this, and you spent every minute of every day forced to wallow in it.

"Bad day?" Coryo asks anyway, but you just shrug, looking out the window at your sad view of the city that had abandoned you.

"Well, I've got some good news," He says, which draws your attention. You tilt your head at him, gesturing in a circular motion with your hand for him to go on.

He laughs, putting his bag down on your empty and perfectly made bed. "One second, here. In case you have questions." He pulls the small chalkboard out from the drawer next to your bed, holding it out to you with a piece of white chalk. You scrunch up your nose and wave rapidly for him to put it back. He knew it would bug you, that's why he did it, recalling the day he brought it for you and you almost threw it at him.

"I HATE writing with chalk," You scribbled quickly on a napkin with a pen you stole from his pocket, throwing the napkin at him and crossing your arms.

"What? Why?" Coryo laughed, dropping the crumpled piece of soft paper on the table next to your bed.

You shook your head, pursed your lips, and looked up, trying to find a way to explain the awful sensation without saying it. He watched you patiently as you thought, until you pretended to hold a piece of the white substance in between your thumb and forefinger, dragging it down the air slowly and pretending to gag. You shook your head again in disgust, waving your hand at him.

"Oh, I didn't know you felt so passionately about this," He drags the chalk down over the board, and you cringe, covering your ears. Coryo couldn't help but think that was just about the cutest thing he had ever seen.

That had been one of your good days, even though at the time your scar was still so fresh it was bandaged, and you were littered with bruises down to your ribs. The room was littered with fallen flower petals by now, yes, but also with what must be hundreds of notes you had shown to Coryo to express yourself in the only way you still could.

That memory still makes you smile, even if you do absolutely hate chalkboards. You walk past him and grab your notebook off the same table, picking it and the pen up as dramatically as you possibly can before sitting down on the bed and looking up at him.

"What?" He asks, just to tease you, and you roll your eyes.

'Get on with it. Also, you're not funny, and I hate you,' You write, turning the page to face him so he could read it.

"Oh, do you?" He chuckles, sitting down next to you.

You smack his arm with the book, motioning again that he should just spit it out.

"Okay! Okay, fine," He sighs emphatically, placing his hands on his thighs and looking down at the floor, just for a few moments to drive you more up the wall before turning his gaze to you. "They told me that you're going home tomorrow."

You open your mouth to speak, suddenly forgetting that you can't. You quickly shut your jaw, furrowing your brow and shaking your head. 'Why?' You mouth to him, neglecting the pad of paper in your lap.

He reads your lips, frowning at your lack of excitement. He was hoping you would be looking forward to it, but he knew you wouldn't be. Not really. "They said there isn't anything more they can do for you here, that you need to heal at home."

You stand up abruptly, throwing the paper down on the ground and clutching the pen so tight that Coryo fears it might shatter.

What do they mean "nothing they can do"? They could fix you, they could operate again, they could pump you so full of drugs that you could finally forget the hell that you're living in, that's what they could do. You couldn't even say that - or scream out your frustrations.

You turn back to Coryo, and the hurt look on your face crushes him. You want to speak to him so badly. Your lips fall open, and you try anyway. 'They're going to leave me like this?' You ask, but not a sound comes out. Not even so much as a whisper. Your throat burns regardless.

"I'm sorry," he says honestly, standing up and reaching out for you. You shake your head, forcing yourself to look anywhere but at him. "Come here..." he says softly, already wrapping his arms around you as the tears brimming in your eyes begin to fall. You can't even hug him back, hands clutched to your chest as you shake under his hold.

"If I could take this from you, I would," He mumbles, shaking his head and resting his chin on your head as he rubs your back. "I'm sorry, Y/N/N."

What he wouldn't give to be able to hear your voice again.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[janeyseymour]

La Cosa Nostra- pt 23

(co-written with @schemmentis): Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10. Part 11. Part 12. Part 13. Part 14. Part 15. Part 16. Part 17. Part 18. Part 19. Part 20. Part 21. Part 22.

Summary: Life goes on, but that doesn't stop you from missing home.

WC: 2065

That night, you and your wife end up having a stay in date night once your papers are all in order. You’re laying on the couch, cuddled up together when the girls come in. Lena is behind them. Your girls come up and hug you both, planting kisses on your cheeks. Your girls’ friend comes up next and also hugs you- she’s always such a treat to have around.

“Hi hun,” you say softly as you sit up just slightly. “You’re spending the night?”

Lena looks hesitant. “May I? My... my parents are still fighting over everything with the divorce, and I really don’t want to ruin a good night.”

“That’s just fine, sweetheart,” Melissa pipes up, somewhat groggily. She was asleep in your lap up until the front door opened. “You know we always have room for you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Vinci,” Lena smiles softly.

“How many times do I have to tell you that when we’re not at school, you can call me Raphaela?”

“You know where we are if you need us, honey,” you tell her, although you’re well aware she knows. There have been a handful of times in the last few months where Lena has come down the steps for a glass of water, only to find you and your wife still laying on the couch. Almost every time, the two of you end up comforting her over whatever is going on in her head at that moment keeping her with the waking world. 

You watch the three girls disappear up stairs. Once they’re out of sight, your wife is settling back into your lap once more. You sigh as you return to your prior more comfortable position and wrap your arms around her again. You really weren’t ready to bring yourself to get up from the couch, anyway. 

“When we had the twins you didn’t tell me we were also signing up for any number of other girls running around.” You murmur as you press your lips to Melissa’s temple.

She scoffs. “I don’t think either of us were thinkin’ that far ahead. At least they chose good ones to hang around with.”

“We’re not counting Carla, right?”

“God, no.” Melissa swiftly answers through a laugh. “She’s as spoiled-ly entitled as her Ma is. Noses permanently in the air.”

There’s a long lull between you. Just the sound of the television playing one of your wife’s shows. You never know what’s going on in them. Other than a lot of fighting that sees her cheering for who she likes the same way she does at sports games. You smile as you remember the first outing you’d taken as a family once you’d moved. It had killed Melissa to wear anything not Philadelphia but she had. At home, she still cheers on your real home team though she’s grown to tolerate New York teams too, albeit reluctantly so. 

Tonight, she isn’t paying attention to the show either. You’re both in your own bubble, wrapped up together on your couch. After a long silence where you’re beginning to stop fighting your eyes that are trying to close, her voice meets your ears softly. “Amore?”

“Hm?” You hum your acknowledgement of the call for you, a hand tiredly raising to brush through red locks.

Her arms tighten around you as she heaves a sigh. It doesn’t sound like she’s annoyed but neither does it sound like the one you know she makes in contentment. “I know it will sound silly but… I’m feeling homesick.”

You shake your head slightly. “Not silly at all, my love. Not silly at all.” You quietly assure, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“I have you and our beautiful girls here. Even if they sass me a little too much and get on my nerves a little more the older they get.” Melissa whispers, as if the girls are listening. They could be. They did like to eavesdrop from the stairs from time to time. Though with Lena here and your house quiet and content, you doubt it. Those eavesdropping urges usually happened whenever there were big things or changes going on. When you and your wife were arguing or close to Christmas or birthdays.

“You’re all here and safe and I’m so thankful.” Your wife continues in her hushed tone. “But I miss home. I miss Sunday dinners with our parents letting the girls get away with more than they should. Them buying them too many gifts for Christmas and their birthday. I miss arguing with Kristen Marie. I miss cookin’, makin’ the menus and teachin’ chefs how to make it the right way. I miss our church and Pastor Thomas’ sermons.”

You reach to lightly rub Melissa’s back as she lists things you miss just as much. It hits you in random moments. Some Sundays when you go into Church you expect to see Barbara and Gerald. Some nights when you come home and hear the gaggle of your children’s friends you expect to also see your in-laws and all your little nieces and nephews. You suppose they wouldn’t be so little anymore. 

“I miss Barb.” You wrap one arm tighter around Melissa when she chokes out a sob. She presses her face to your neck, holding you tight. “I miss my Ma.” She manages to add between stuttering breaths. “I miss home, Amore.”

“I do, too.” You admit quietly, holding your wife tightly as your cheek brushes her own affectionately. The hand rubbing her back shifts back upward to sift through her red locks. This isn’t the first time you’ve had this conversation. Though it is the first time it’s been your wife to break. You both knew you were doing what you had to do to keep your daughters safe and growing up normally. 

You didn’t regret your decision to leave your home because it meant your little preteens were here, experiencing a normal life with gossip and petty drama and friends and everything that you and Melissa didn’t have growing up. You didn’t regret it. Still, knowing it was the right thing to do, the right choice, didn’t mend the gaping hole you couldn’t help but acknowledge in the safety of it being just you and Melissa. You did your best not to think about how everyone you left behind felt, what they’ve had to deal with in the years you’ve been away. You already can hardly hold your own grief over it all. You couldn’t juggle it with those thoughts.

You blink awake a few hours later. Melissa is still clinging to you, the television still playing. You hadn’t meant to sleep on your couch. Then again, you never did. Yet it happened fairly often in your new home. “Baby,” you murmur, your voice nearly hoarse as you try to gently wake Melissa.

You jump at a figure suddenly leaning over the couch. “Fuck sake!” You curse when you realize it's Cat.

“Sorry, Mam. I thought I heard you.” She whispers. Somehow, Melissa hasn’t woken up yet. She must have been holding in your small conversation from earlier for longer than you suspected. More emotionally drained than you realized.

“What on earth are you doin’ up?” You grumble to your eldest, carefully sitting up without letting go of your wife. You glance back to Cat at her silence to see her briefly studying Melissa before her eyes flick back to you.

“Is Mommy okay?” She asks instead of answering your question.

“Mommy is fine, sweetheart.” You assure quietly. “If she were awake she might cry hearing you call her that.” You admit, giving a small look to your oldest. You know and understand why her and her sister don’t want to call her that in front of friends but your eldest really had been more snotty toward Melissa ever since. Especially if she used the term of endearment. “But she’s fine.”

“Mam…” Cat starts. Once again she looks between both you and Melissa. “Can I tell you somethin’?” She finally whispers.

You raise an eyebrow. Gently, you settle Melissa back to the couch, ensuring the decorative pillows you keep on the couch are both cradling her head and the throw blanket is tucked over her. You had intended on getting you both to bed. It can wait a little while.

You rise from your couch, waving your eldest back into the kitchen. “What is it?” You prompt as you start making hot cocoa. A family tradition on nights like this. When something needed to be talked about. A mug of warm comfort. You make a little extra in the case Rosie or Lena wake up and come down or Melissa wakes up from the couch.

It isn’t until you're sitting at the kitchen island, looking at Cat over your mug as you sip that she sighs. Her hands twist around the mug, fingers playing with the handle mindlessly. “Promise you won’t get mad?” She asks, peeking up at you from her hands and mug.

You raise an eyebrow once again. “That depends on what you’re about to tell me, Catherine.”

She rolls her eyes at her full name being used. “It’s not that bad…” She mutters. 

You wait, silent, as you look at your eldest. You don’t run through what it could be in her mind at all. You know better, especially with your oldest twin, than to try. They inherited saying things you’d never even guess from Melissa. 

“Fuck it.” Cat sighs. You don’t even get to reprimand her swearing before she’s speaking again. “Lena told me, and made me and Rosie promise not to tell but it’s not right and you and Mommy wouldn’t want us to lie about it.”

“What did Lena tell you?”

“Her dad hit her mom the other day when they were fighting.” Cat finally says quietly. “She said he would have hit her too but her mom stopped him….”

“I’ll break that man’s fucking legs myself.” Melissa’s voice suddenly sounds. 

You turn to see your wife sitting up on the couch, looking over the back of it to you and your eldest. She stands from the couch, moving to join you in the kitchen. You’ve made plenty yet she purposefully takes your mug to take a sip from.

You roll your eyes and fight the smile on your lips as you grab the mug that would have been hers before she stole yours. 

“Mommy, you can’t!” Cat pleads as she sets her own mug down. “Lena made us promise, she’ll be so mad if she finds out I told you.”

“Honey, she can be mad. What’s happening in her house is not okay. It’s abuse,” your wife tells your daughter. “Has he ever hit her Ma before?”

Cat averts her eyes.

“Good lord,” Melissa whispers as she sips the warm, chocolate drink. “I should’ve known… her mother is always so skittish, and Lena has been here more than she’s been at her own house lately.”

“Mommy, please,” your eldest begs. “Please don’t tell.”

“Has he ever laid hands on Lena before?” you ask quietly, trying to get a better confirmation from Cat beside the obvious want not to say it. “Is that what the bruise on her arm was from- not falling off a bike like she said?”

Cat just nods silently.

“Mommy, Lena’s crying,” Rosie makes her way down the steps, rubbing at her eyes tiredly. Your younger twin falls into your lap, clearly exhausted.

With a heavy sigh, Melissa makes her way up the steps. It’s a few minutes later that the pair comes down the steps, and you gesture for Rosie to stand in order to make more hot chocolate.

“I have to report this,” your wife says softly, demure. “I’m a mandated reporter.”

“Mrs. Vinci,” Lena sniffles. “Please. No. I don’t- I don’t want to be taken from my family.”

“I’ll make sure you stay with your mother,” Melissa promises. She glances at you, and you nod. “But what’s happening with your father… I can’t watch that happen. To you, or your mother.” She wraps her arms gently around Lena, pressing a soft kiss to the fragile girl.

You keep arms around both of your little girls, propped on either of your knees and tucking their chins into your neck. You crane just slightly to kiss their own heads, thanking God that they’re okay and that they’re here with you.

TAGS: @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo

[radical-revolution]

AT THE HEART OF ALL TRAUMA

At the heart of all trauma, a terrible sense of isolation, disconnection, loneliness.

Follow your trauma to its devastating core, friend, to its heart of darkness, and you will inevitably meet the abandonment wound, the pain of all pains.

Abandoned by mother, father. Forgotten and misunderstood by the world. Cast out of heaven and separated from the Godhead. Divided from life.

Of course, it’s an illusion. You were never separate from the mountains, the forests, the diamond drops of morning dew. You were never broken, never rotten at your core, never separate from the One. You were always loved. The terrible heart of darkness was always your own exquisitely beautiful heart of light, so fragile, so powerful, so loveable, so real.

Ultimately others cannot save us. Each of us are called to confront our aloneness, dive into the heart of our trauma, and find solace and sanctuary there. Others can hold our trembling hands but they cannot travel for us.

There is no external saviour, and the lie of love is that another human being - parent, partner, guru or god - can complete you.

No. Your completeness is in your brokenness. We cannot save each other but we can weep together, walk together, share our terror, our horror, our shame, our hope and our awe.

Walking in the forest at dawn, our eyes meet.

I recognise your longing as my own.

Love is a recognition.

Author: Jeff Foster

[thatacotargirl]

Flower of the Dawn Court

Please enjoy this little oneshot 🌼🌸

Summary: It is Thesan's wedding day and all of Prythian seems to have been invited. His daughter's, y/n and Dalia, have played wedding planners ahead of their father's big day; but nothing ever goes to plan when the 7 High Lords come together.

This oneshot is set at the beginning of A Court of Mist and Fury.

Reader's POV

It was a beautiful, warm morning in Dawn Court. The sun had slowly started to rise over the horizon, the birds were singing their love songs quietly, the tune carried by the breeze. You were stood on the balcony of your bedroom, a coffee in hand, enjoying the peacefulness of nature before the day fully erupted.

Today was your father's wedding day. After his experiences under the mountain, he hadn't waited a single second before letting the Captain know his true feelings and the pair agreed to marry as soon as feasibly possible. The wedding was the first to take place since Amarantha was slain and it felt like all of Prythian had been invited to Dawn, including the remaining 6 High Lords.

A door opens to my left and I turn to see Dalia, my sister, appear with a steaming cup of coffee to join me. Dalia and I were adopted by Thesan as babies when we were left on his doorstep. Dalia arrived a few months before I did, but Thesan treated us like we were his own flesh and blood; raising us in Dawn amongst the greats. Rumour had it that Dalia was even next in line to inherit the title of High Lady of Dawn, despite not being a blood relation. I grin at my sister as she reaches out an arm to embrace me.

"I can't believe the day is finally here", she says, pulling me closer into her side.

"He deserves this, every bit of happiness the world can offer him and more". Dalia nods her head in agreement as we gaze out over the gardens, watching the staff begin to set up the arch and the seats for the ceremony.

Turning the my wardrobe, I pull out the dress that was custom made for today. A beautiful shade of deep crimson with golds heels and jewellery to match. Dalia was to wear similar, only hers was a deep shade of blood orange. We looked magnificent.

"Time to get ready", I grin to my sister, as she rushes forward to pull her dress from the hanger.

Several hours later and both Dalia and I were dressed and ready, our hair and make-up perfect. We watched with tears in our eyes as Thesan and the Captain shared their first moment of seeing each other dressed for their wedding, and took more photos than there were stars in the sky as our newfound family of 4. We could hear the hustle and bustle of guests arriving and taking their seats, and soon the bell called to let us know it was time for the ceremony to begin.

"I love you girls with all my heart", my father said, pulling Dalia and I in for a hug. When we finally let him go, he walked to the entranceway and began his walk up the aisle.

Dalia and I were next. Our heritage remained unknown, with neither of us caring too much to know more about the family that had abandoned us, but it was clear from which court's we heralded. Dalia was without a doubt a descendant of the Day Court, her power to wield sunbeams could rival even the most talented magic in her native lands. I, however, was born of Spring; and beheld the power to command flowers. Dalia used to tease me that I had the 'flower power' when we were children, especially when our father was teaching us how to manage our powers and I accidentally caused flowers to bloom from every wall, floor, and ceiling of the Dawn Court palace. One time I even bloomed a flower from the top of my head and couldn't quite grasp my magic enough to make it vanish - leaving me with a real-life flower crown for several days. Thankfully, Dalia and I had mastered our powers eventually, and could put them to good use today.

Arms linked, we walked down the aisle, smiling around to our many guests. Dalia commanded the sunlight to shine down and spotlight our father, with wisps of sunbeams dancing around the garden to the tune of the choir. With soft gestures of my arms, I yielded flowers from my fingertips, allowing them to fall from the sky amongst the seats and along the aisle. As we rounded off to the alter, kissing our father's cheeks as we went, we watched as the Captain appeared at the entrance of the walkway.

The ceremony was nothing short of jaw-droppingly beautiful, and the crowd roared with delight as our father and the Captain were pronounced married. The 4 of us embraced at the altar and we walked hand in hand back down the aisle towards the evening celebrations.

On arrival at the reception, with a glass of champagne in hand, Dalia and I made our way around the guests to welcome them to Dawn. The High Lords had all agreed to attend and many were staying in rooms at the palace tonight, allowing them to indulge in the festivities to their heart's content. Only Kallias of Winter and Beron of Autumn were leaving tonight; Kallias to return home with his heavily pregnant wife, and Beron because - well - he's Beron.

A brief disagreement caught our attention as we turned in the direction of the Night Court table. Rhysand and his Inner Circle were all present for the wedding, as was Rhysand's plus one - Feyre Cursebreaker. It was made public soon after what happened under the mountain that Rhysand and Feyre had made a bargain that she stay at the Night Court for a week per month, and it looked like Rhysand had decided to take that week now, stealing Feyre as his guest to the wedding so that Tamlin wasn't able to. Dalia chuckled, clearly enjoying the drama of it all. Honestly, Prythian was slowly turning into a real-life drama production these days.

We approached their table to greet them, bowing to Rhysand and offering our hand to the Inner Circle members.

"Thank you for attending the wedding, High Lord", Dalia offered, her head still bowed as she addressed Rhysand.

"It was our pleasure, Dalia, thank you for inviting us. The ceremony was wonderful", he replied.

As you made your way around the table, greeting each member, you reached out a hand to greet Feyre. Although she sat with a frown on her face, her body caved inwards and away from Rhysand, she offered out her hand to shake yours.

"Thank you for coming, Feyre", you offered gently. You felt her hand untense in yours as you addressed her personally, and she relaxed her posture slightly.

"It was a beautiful day. Your's and your sister's powers are really something else, I know my sister Elain would love to be able to create flowers at her whim".

You smile as you withdraw your hand and Feyre looks up to meet your eyes. You see her's widen and she quietly gasps. Not quietly enough, however, to evade the notice of everyone sat at the table, who turn to look at you with confusion.

"Is everything ok, Feyre?" you ask with concern, taking a step backwards in case you startled her.

"I'd know those eyes anywhere".

You look at her your face laced with confusion, as you turn to look at Dalia for assistance. She offers you a shrug as you both turn to Rhysand, hoping for an explanation. He, too, however, looks completely at a loss.

"Feyre?", he asks, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder. The entire table is silent, waiting for Feyre to respond, but her eyes remain frozen on yours.

"Feyre?", you try, crouching down to be in front of her seat.

"I'd know those eyes anywhere", she repeats. "I fell in love with them".

The entire table exchanges confused glances, now becoming concerned that Feyre is speaking in tongues and not making any sense. You stand and turn to Rhysand, about to offer to get Thesan in case Feyre needed a healer, when Amren, Rhysand's second in command, also gasps.

"By the Cauldron", is all she could get out, looking past your shoulder to the crowd behind you.

You turn, trying to find the source of Amren's shock, only to lock eyes with a pair of matching emerald ones that were staring back at you, widened in surprise. Eyes that mirrored yours in every way. Eyes that could belong to no one other than your biological father.

The High Lord of Spring.

[ideas-4-stories]

helloooo! I am once again sharing the cross guild Argentina au ideas. the brainworms are brainworming

also, Romantic Cross Guild!

•Alone, Mihawk would only drink fernet straight up and treat it with as much reverence as a glass of wine. But! With Buggy he starts to be fond of sharing it back and forth as it is meant to, a drink to be shared and enjoyed, he starts to get more loose and eventually he learns to share the moments and be a part of a group that loves him just as much as he loves them. Crocodile wasn't fond of fernet to begin with, but he also got fond of it after Buggy taught them the love that can be shared with it.

•Buggy has an atrocious sweet tooth, borderline solid diabetes. What else did we expect from a clown? Anyways, aside from all the piracy criminal stuff that Cross Guild does, I genuinly think that Buggy would beg on his knees, on his hands, pouting, crying and doing the biggest pretty please he could so Crocodile lets him hire bakers so that they would make him his favourite facturas and sweets every morning and also sold off for a little profit, but mostly for him to eat at mreakfast and merienda. Crododile does try his hardest to resist the pouting clown but he's helpless and obligues after a little while. They now have the best bakers money can get in the island and Crocodile and Mihawk get sugary kisses every morning now. They might have started liking sugar more if it is in their daily clown kisses...but nobody has to know that shhh. Also now on their list of services to offer they have Sweet Argentinian Facturas among other silly little things like murder, kidnapping, taking down pirate ships, y'know, the usual.

•Crocodile is one of the only people in the whole island that drinks mate the bitterest shit yerba can get it and as hot as volcanic lava, nobody wants to drink with him. Mihawk doesn't drink mate, he's more of a terere guy, and Buggy drinks mate with one kilo of sugar on top and midly cold (hes just like me fr). So that's why all three only share the table they put the things on. Every evening at merienda time the table has one stanley termo (like a one liter thing that stores water and keeps it hot), one jug of iced juice, one flashy hand-painted classic metalic kettle, and a distressful amount of sweets and sandwiches and bizcochos of various types and forms. It is always full of color and warmth and love.

▪︎Buggy can and will gobble up a whole jar of dulce de leche with spoonfulls. Croco and Mihawk are horrified.

▪︎Mihawk mainly dresses whith white loose shirts, used to hot climate like in Cordoba. So the moment winter starts he does not go out at all, he is deep in blankets. Buggy and Croco are very amused, but also find it a little cute

▪︎Crocodile gets up at 6am no matter what, even worse, he is an old ass cranky morning person. Mihawk and Buggy do not like it but, he is THEIR old ass cranky morning person, what're they gonna do about it?

(In this AU I headcanon Karai Bari island as looking less tropical and more like the woods around El Bólson(a village?city?town?in argentina) incluiding all the mountains and cascades and rivers and lakes and woods there are there, so the next places i will name are real ones, you can google them i love them all)

•As their first official date together they decide that nothings better than the Bosque de las Hadas (Fairy Forest) because of how magical and quiet it is there, after all, the fairys and gnomes are just stories, right?

Well, turns out stories are there for a reason, the start the date and everything is beautiful and they have the whole forest to themselves so they go al lovey dovey and suddenly they start hearing weird shit until they have to run out of the forest with Crocodiles help. At the end they had a disastrous date and Mihawk was kinda devastated inside, cuz he had suggested the Fairie Forest, but his partners made sure to make him know that it was interesting anyway and they spent a good time even if they were chased off by tiny feral fairies. Smooches are required and they do...other things too...

•As for their next day, they try a place with less magic in it, they fo to the Waterfalls. They have to do a little hicking; Mihawk is unbothered and enjoying the forest, Crocodile cheats with his sand a little, and Buggy whines the whole way up even if he is enjoying it, his whining stops when Crocodile puts him up on his shoulders and does indecent and spontaneous ass-grabbing. The Waterfalls gets to witness public indecency. It is a beautiful and succesful second date.

oooops i got carried away. anyway thank u for your time! have a good day :}

Sorry it took so long to reply, many long projects for school came one after another. Then I had no motivation for some days, but I'm back and I just have to say that I love these ideas. Them drinking together with something they either don’t drink with others or don’t drink at all is so cute to imagine!

I’ve heard ideas where Devil Fruit users need something that gives them energy or something like that… it could be food of some sort or smoking. I wonder if that’s true, Buggy’s must be sugar. Poor Mihawk and Crocodile, watching Buggy eat an entire dinner worth of sugar a day like Crocodile smoking through a pack or two of cigars a day isn’t bad as well.

I’m chuckling because I see Mihawk popping his head out of some blankets with Crocodile and Buggy, thinking Mihawk is being so cute. Love that Crocodile is their cranky old person in the morning. Karai Bari being more woodland area than topical looks nice in my mind, the fairy forest with little feral fae chasing them is so funny to think about. I wonder who pissed them off? The second date is everything, Buggy complaining about the shits n giggles, then gets lifted up onto Crocodile’s shoulder, now able to see more things with price of some public indecency.