#things it took me a long time to truly learn and internalize

[strangefable]

the words you speak about another person will always, always, speak louder about you than them

[hyeinism]

( ♡ )⠀𝒏. 𝒓𝒊𝒌𝒊 . . . ℎ𝑒𝑦𝑎 𝑐𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑒 :) .ᐟ

꒷꒦ ❛ hola, ¿cómo está', she said こんにちはこんにちは ❜

⟢ meetcute w/ riki! && n.rk x f!reader . . . when riki is captivated by the way you move ৲ includes mentions of body, money, idk what else silliness !! 834wc

RIKI RUSHED THROUGH the overflowing halls of his high school, filled with sweaty, graceless students all eager to leave the building at once. he internally groaned at all the immature screams that bounced off the walls.

the young boy’s mind was detached, only focused on one thing: the mysterious dancing girl.

or at least, that’s what he called her.

everyday, at around 5:00pm (conveniently just when he would get out of school!) there was this alluring girl who riki could only describe as beautiful, who baltered outside the bustling buildings on 64th street.

she was such a stunning contrast from the smoke of cigars in the gloomy air or the frowning faces of all the passing new yorkers.

riki, being a devoted dancer himself, never wasted a moment when it came to watching your breathtaking show. he ran impressively fast, even under the heat of the merciless summer sun, while ignoring all the weird glances and stares that passersby gave him.

and finally, he found himself facing you, who was messing with your phone as you tried to find the right tune to match your dancing. he noticed the corners of your lips raise up into a satisfying smile, the one that always laced your beautiful face when you found the perfect song.

you put the phone on the ground, making sure the music was turned all the way up before placing your ‘money hat’ right next to it. street dancing was unethically a great way to make money, you learned.

you were just about to start dancing when your eyes lit up like two full bright moons, due the cute boy who had a big gray hoodie on & headphones wrapped around his pretty neck. he was about two feet from you, the same one who always watched with a hope-filled smile every time you performed. it was truly the most precious thing you’ve seen in a long while.

your cheeks flushed a rosy red and a feeling of pride washed over you; you felt the need to dance even better every time this boy showed up, the unconscious sensation making you want to impress him more and more with every single one of your moves.

and so you did just that: your body moved to the music flawlessly, like ocean waves or dandelions floating in the wind. a crowd slowly gathered near you, but your eyes were suddenly unwilling to leave the boy, who watched you with never ending astonishment taking over his features.

your glowing, free aura was truly captivating; anyone with half a brain could tell. the longer you danced, the harder it was for riki to pull his gaze away from you.

his stupor was disturbed though, thanks to a —most likely stupid— idea that ignited his mind. he smiled while watching people drop loose change into the hat you placed next to your phone. giddily pulling out a pen and a slim piece of paper, he wrote his number down in messy writing, signed by small lettering at the bottom that read “call me?”. he pulled out a $20 bill and dropped both slips into your hat, slyly making sure you were watching him.

soon (too soon for riki’s comfort) your performance ended and you took a bow in return to the ovation you received, giggling to yourself when you noticed how the cute guy, who it would be fitting to call your biggest fan now, was evidently clapping the loudest amongst everyone else.

riki grinned childishly after seeing the delicate giggles that left your mouth, feeling his heart swell with joy. that same glistening grin didn’t leave his face, even as he walked home under the setting sun. his mind never once left the ambrosian enigma that was you, and the way your hips moved as easily as a flowing waterfall to the pulsating beat that still resonated throughout his entire chest.

upon reaching his home and swinging open the door, riki bowed to his parents and greeted them kindly before hurriedly pacing upstairs to his bedroom. his brain filled with unending thoughts, the most prominent one being if the pretty dancer had messaged him yet or not.

riki’s hands run through the darkened mess of his tangled hair before he searches his jean pockets for his phone. after pulling it out riki bit on his lip, the excitement he had soon replaced with anxiousness.

realistically, he didn’t even know if you liked him, he just acted upon a hopeful whim, honestly.

all doubts that filled his mind were quickly replaced with shock and utter disbelief.

a small notification lit up riki’s phone screen and he read the simple message that was displayed over and over again, with wide eyes and a smile to match; riki pushed back the urge to squeal like a little girl in a candy shop while gripping his phone even tighter.

— heya, cutie! thx for the 20 :)

𐙚 . . via's entry ❫ wrote this watching natty's sugarcoat mv lol 𓈒ㅤׂ 𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ tysm for reading! 𓂃 read PART2 ! ৎ networks : @a-dream-bookmark ৎ perm tl : @sainns (send an ask to join !)

[ineffablelara]

Loki and his severe self esteem issues

Something I don't think we as a fandom discuss enough is the moment where Loki casually says "my life was a waste of time" to Mobius in s2ep6, I kinda understand that bc the finale was so traumatazing to some people that they only watched it once and tried their best to not think about it for too long

But this moment stuck with me because he says it with such calmness, there's no bite in his words, no sarcasm, no irony, he truly believes that, he thinks his whole life was a waste of time and this is so incredibly heartbreaking, at that point he already spent centuries trying to fix the loom only to learn it was a failsafe, centuries of his life wasted on a mission that lead to nothing, he probably think his life on the sacred timeline was a waste of time too, I'm so sure he'd do everything different if he could go back there, I'm sure he looks at all the things he did with so much shame and regret, a life wasted with jealousy and bitterness and acting out to get attention of others while being desperate for his father's approval and wanting to be Thor's equal

Even though he only acted that way because of his own trauma too, abandoned as a baby, adopted by a man who had a political agenda in mind when he took him and who made Loki feel unfit and inferior his whole life, raised in a society that looked down at all the things that made him him (magic, tricks, preference for diplomacy instead of fist fighting etc), Loki grew up in a hostile enviroment that only made him insecure and alone, he has severe self esteem issues and all he wanted his whole life was to be accepted and loved by his people and most of all by his father, he chased that approval in the wrong ways and now that he's mature and wiser he understands that but it's still so sad to see him talking about himself like that

He dedicated centuries of his life to doing the right thing, to saving the multiverse and making sure everyone would be safe, he made friends, he became kind and selfless and somehow he still thinks his existence was a mistake, his insecurities are so deep and internalized that I'm afraid he'll never truly be free of them, I wish someone hugged him very tight and told him how amazing and important he is, that his mistakes in the past don't define who he is now and that they're proud of how far he came in his journey

Loki's existence was the greatest gift the multiverse could've asked for, without him everyone would still be part of hwr's schemes and the tva would still be taking away people's free will, I hope his mind changed after the making of Yggdrasil and that he starts looking at himself with more compassion and love bc he deserves it more than anyone at this point

[romanoffsbish]

In a Summer Haze

CEO!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

Happy 4/20, 🥰 (belated by a few hours because I passed out 😏 yesterday before finishing the fic)

Warnings: Drugs (Weed): Shotgunning

Smut: Mommy(N), Oral (R), Fingering (R), Overstimulation, Double Sided Strap (R/N).

18+ | Minors DNI

Natasha truly loved everything about you.

Like the way your nose scrunched up when she'd tell you a silly joke, or how you'd pull the car over to guide ducks through traffic, but her favorite thing was how you smiled when you settled into her embrace after every long day.

What she especially loved though, was how pliant you were for her. If she wanted to try something new, you were always on board.

——

Marijuana wasn't new to the redhead, but it is for you, and with how long it's been for her it'll likely have the same sort of effect on her. It's something she hadn't dabbled with since she graduated college all those years ago. Starting a company took too much time and energy, she hadn't the time for such frivolities as the CEO.

Until now that is, she was waiting for you to return from the kitchen in your Summer beach house as she rolled a fat joint. This was the first time she'd been on vacation in over a decade, she hadn't gone off since she started working. Natasha was a workaholic to her core, and if not for you she'd never stop and smell the bud.

"One scotch on the rocks for the hottie in my bed," you sang as you entered the room, "and a virgin Shirley Temple for me of course."

"Your bed?"

"If I didn't make you buy this place, it wouldn't be either of ours," you affirmed with a glare, "Plus, what's yours is mine, remember?" you flashed your ring at her as you slipped her the drink, and softly pecked her lips, pulling back with a refined grimace at the way she tasted.

Natasha chuckled, "It might not taste the best, but trust me detka, best orgasm of your life."

"How would you know?" You huffed, sending her a warning glare as you settled down on your side of the bed, she only smirked, "I lived many a life before you Y/N," she paused her talking to seal the joint, holding steady eye contact with you as she licked across the paper, then she used her fingers to seal it seamlessly.

"Which comes with experience," she finally continued on, she placed the joint between her fingers and slowly crawled across the mattress until she was straddling your lap. With her free hand she cupped your face, slowly running her thumb over the apple of your cheek with clear affection, "This life is my favorite though."

"Natty," you softly aired your insecurities with only a whisper of her nickname, "Shh, don't overthink it moya lyubov', just relax for me."

Natasha lit the tip of the pristinely rolled joint, she allowed the embers to burn until the smell of the ganja flitted between the both of you.

"Watch me," she lifted the joint to her lips, her eyes stayed locked in on yours as she inhaled with careful precision. You nearly killed her with just how adorable you looked, as if you were still that bright young intern at her company learning the ropes. Your brows were deeply furrowed, and your nose was scrunched as your eyes drank her in. "Your turn detka."

Natasha flipped the joint, she held it up to your lips, and after a moment of intense staring you took the wetted piece between your lips and sucked hesitantly. For a second it was going well, but you overdid the pull before Nat could take the joint from you, and now you were spluttering as smoke billowed from your lips.

"Gotta pace yourself detka," she mused, and you looked to her through your bleary eyes to see as she took yet another hit without a hitch.

"How are you so good?" You whined, and she chuckled softly as an idea came to her, "Here," she gripped your chin, nails softly digging into the thin skin as she did, you watched her take another slow drag off the joint, the embers at the end a bright orange as they crackled loud enough to fill the deafening silence. Natasha used her free thumb to part your lips, and before you knew it she was transferring the clouds of smoke to you through a soft kiss.

Something about focusing on her pillow soft lips made the process much easier. She softly whispered for you to inhale, and this time you did so without a need to break the kiss apart. Natasha used that to her advantage as she slid her tongue over yours, and was rewarded with a desperate moan that even she unexpected.

Everything was on a new level, you'd never felt anything like this in your life, and you were still deciding if you wanted to again. This sort of heaviness had settled into your limbs, it felt like if you tried to stand they'd be like cement blocks stationing you in place. Then in direct contrast every nerve in your body was alit, the callouses of Natasha's fingers normally were unnoticeable as they trailed over your skin, but as she runs them over your arms you shivered.

"How you feeling detka?" Natasha was amused, she could see the haze in your eyes had set in within mere minutes. She's sure you didn't even realize it, but you'd been sat there with your lips parted ever since the kiss ended.

Mindlessly waiting for more she hopes...

"Like a caterpillar," you noted seriously, and she nearly chocked on the heavy cloud of smoke she was holding in her lungs, "How so?"

"I, hm," you paused to think, it was your truth, but as is the case for most you couldn't fathom how to explain it, "Colorful," you tried, and then you pouted as she giggled in your face.

"I'm not going to tell you if you're being mean!"

Natasha set the burning joint down carefully on the bedside table, then she cupped your cheeks, "I'm not being mean, now go on."

You sighed, "You know how they scrunch their bodies to move?" she nodded with a practiced straight face, "Well, it kinda feels like my brain is doing that just to think. Like it's squeezing tight, then it's just flopping down as if we ran a marathon. Up. Down. Up. Down. It's strange."

Natasha nodded with a smirk, she went to lean in for a kiss but apparently you weren't done, "Also, they eat leaves, and now I smoke them."

Natasha snorted, "Yeah, you do," she reached over to the table to put the joint out for now, "My sweet little lightweight," she teased.

Before you could protest her very true to form statement she captured your lips with hers.

Never in your life did you imagine anything could be better than kissing your wife, but in this moment you realized the only thing better than kissing her, is doing it while being high.

There was a dull ache steadily increasing in between your legs the more she kissed you. Her tongue simply devoured your mouth as you put up no fight, and her hips ground into yours in a calculated motion, building you up unbearably.

"Please..." You begged, and the woman was grinning from ear to ear, "What is it detka?"

A whimper left you as she'd stopped touching you so intimately, you desired having her close. Natasha's pupils were blown, and you weren't sure if your eyes were deceiving you or not, but it appeared like the light green hue darkened.

"I need you mommy," you canted your hips up, pulling a surprised groan from your lover as she too was overly sensitive, "Wanna be your last best orgasm, please, make us the best!"

"You're already my best detka," she attempted to peck your worries away, and in a move to speed the previously tedious process along she trailed her lips over the taut skin of your jaw, her hands slid beneath the hem of your shirt and in one fluid motion the fabric was gone.

"Mommy's going to take such good care of you detka," she whispered hotly against the column of your throat, the hot air she expelled had you squirming as it fanned across your skin. Nat giggled as she felt the way your throat shivered beneath her lips, you'd moaned when her teeth scraped over your skin, "Such a sensitive girl."

The journey to between the apex of your thighs was provocatively slow, her focus on your breasts had you writhing, but you held no real complaints. Every mark she sucked into your skin only brought you closer to your release. Natasha had barely touched you but you felt like you were on the verge of combusting.

"Fuck, you taste so good detka," Natasha lost the need to tease you as soon as her tongue slid over the plush skin of your thigh. Your essence was intoxicating in taste and smell, she inhaled deeply, as if she could hold onto your scent forever this way, her chest was now heaving with such an intense need. A need for you.

Natasha buried her face between your thighs. There was an unlocked carnality to the way her tongue moved through your folds. She's always been a passionate lover, but this went deeper. The woman wasn't even coming up for air, and that willingness of hers to suffocate just to taste you brought you crashing over a blissful edge.

That success didn't stop her either, your bodies writhing and your screaming only encouraged her as she fucked you straight through your orgasm. Natasha was honestly drunk on you, like you were the finest Bordeaux and she was savoring every last drop. Through countless orgasms she continued to eat you out like a fiend, the way tremors of your thighs rippled against her face blew her massive ego up.

Once you reached a point of overstimulation, your legs having tightened around her head in a way that made her dizzy beyond belief, she decided it was best she showed your cunt some momentary mercy. She slowly curled her tongue while buried deep inside you, and as more of your essence spilled from within you she greedily lapped it all up for a final time.

When she finally pried your legs open she was lifting her head up to look at your expression. Your face was a picturesque reflection of bliss. There was a glaze to your bloodshot eyes that gradually tipped over the edge, the tears of satisfaction enhanced your beauty really. After your gasping had tempered you wore a smile, and Natasha mirrored it as she hovered above.

“How you feeling now?” Natasha chuckled when you rolled your eyes, “Like a happy caterpillar, maybe soon I’ll be a butterfly.”

“Oh, I can help you fly baby,” you quirked a brow, and the redhead winked before giving you a nonverbal answer, her fingers entered you and that had your back flying off the bed.

"Oh God," you cried out as she thrusted her fingers into you with little regard to your increased sensitivity, “Oh fuck,” if anything she was exploiting this limited timed response.

Natasha found your inability to speak amusing, the profanities you were just screaming faded out into incoherent babbling interrupted only by involuntary growls from deep within you. There had never been a moment like this for you two before, Natasha was a premium lover, but this experience was clearly next level.

Natasha swiveled her thumb over your clit, "There you go detka," Natasha husked hotly against your lips as you shrieked against hers, "Scream for me Y/N, scream for mommy."

Natasha watched you coming undone, propped up on her elbow she watched with rapt eyes as your mouth flew open, and eyes screwed shut.

"Open your eyes," she tapped your temple, and you hazily obliged, "Such pretty eyes detka," she smiled at you with relative ease, as if she didn't even have to focus on her hand that was jackhammering into you. Holding eye contact with her as she fucked you was dizzying, add on the way she dripped onto your thigh, and it launched you into the best orgasm of your life.

Successfully topping herself as the title holder. She’s long since ruined you for anyone else.

There was nothing more beautiful than seeing you with your lips parted, a melody of moans leaving your lips via your throat as your eyes rolled back into your head so far she was sure you could see your brain. As you worked on coming down from such a glorious high your lover sweetly peppered your face with kisses.

Once your were relatively cognizant she met your lips for a sweet, sensual kiss. There wasn’t much of a rush for either of you to part, you were quite enjoying this moment of reprieve. Because as great as she made you feel just now, you honestly needed a break, and tasting your essence on her tongue was helping to build your dying arousal back up. Something you weren’t used to either, usually after about five big O’s you were ready to tap out, but the drugs coursing in your system surged your libido on.

“Mommy wants to fuck you with her cock,” Natasha growled out her desires as you’d just separated to breathe, she felt you tense a bit, “Come on detka,” Natasha pleaded with a pout, “Just one more, please, mommy needs this.”

You meekly nodded, you could never deny the woman such relief. Not when she worked as hard as she did to provide a life for the both of you, and it’s not like it came at your expense. Her pleasure came with promises of your own.

Natasha slid the strap inside of herself, she nearly buckled at the knees due to the large intrusion, but she managed to hobble back over to the bed where she slid your end into you slowly, with a care you could feel in your chest.

“Can I move?” You could hear the strain in her voice, she was desperate, that much you knew as her slick cunt was pressed atop of yours. She was also considerate, so even if she wanted to fuck you both into a state of bliss, she would wait until you’d adjusted to your longer side.

“Go ahead mommy,” you sighed, “I’m ready.”

Natasha pecked your lips, a silent thank you, before she pulled out, walls clenching around her end to keep it more sturdy as she rammed her hips back into yours. With every thrust her ability to hold her end dwindled, instead she began to let it remain anchored in your cunt while she chased her overdue orgasm down.

Seeing Natasha in such a state only drove you crazier, her hands held your hips in a bruising manner as she chased down what was owed to her without holding back. In an attempt to help you clenched hard and rutted up to meet her thrust down, and that seemed to do the trick. Natasha bit into your neck to conceal her screams of pleasure, and as her walls held the strap tight in their fluttering state she was able to throw you over as she was calming down.

The two of you moved together, helping to prolong the both of your euphoric states until you were whining due to sensitivity. Natasha nuzzled her face against the side of your neck, her tongue prodded at the drops of blood that were dribbling from the mark she’d just left. A soft wince came from you as she lathed her warm tongue over the marred skin to soothe it.

“You did so good for mommy,” she coo’d as her lips kissed a line up your neck until the slotted perfectly against yours. The taste of your arousal mixed with undertones of copper laced your tastebuds as she explored your mouth. It was a slow kiss until it wasn’t, a momentum picked up as her nipples brushed over yours, you could feel your walls fluttering around the strap again, but when her hips moved you felt more pain than pleasure, so you whimpered.

“Shh, it’s okay love,” she pressed a kiss to your cheek before nuzzling her face back into your neck, “Get some rest, you’ll need your strength for round two where mommy plans to ride your pretty little face, my precious built in throne.”

Natasha’s heart fluttered alongside your soft giggles, they were her favorite sound to elicit. While laying atop of you she can’t help but feel grateful that she gave you a chance, that she let herself love something more than her career. Because you’ve now opened her life up to a joy she never would’ve imagined possible, and one she couldn’t fathom living without anymore.

“Mommy,” you called out to her after a few minutes and she hummed tiredly, “Yes detka?”

“I feel like a pretty butterfly now,” you admit, your high clearly still lingering, “You are a very beautiful butterfly, now close your eyes detka.”

“I love you very much,” you whispered, and the redhead smiled, “I love you most Y/N.”

“Nuh uh,” you denied with a shake of your body that jostled the tired woman, “Go to sleep Y/N!” Natasha groaned, and you giggled wildly beneath her, “Oh God, you’re a total giggler.”

——

2,878 Words

Reader:

❤️ Kaitlyn 😏

[mooodyblue]

hello Angel! I’m not sure if you remember me or not but I used to be Prayerstopresley on here a good while ago!! : D I was wondering if you could write a cutesy little one shot with BDE and a pregnant reader who is struggling to paint her toenails so he decides to do it for her? I just thought it would be a cute idea!! Thank you!!

wc: 804

pairing: pregnant!reader x 70s!elvis

warnings: none

a/n: oh my goodness i do absolutely remember you!!! i always wondered where you had went!! happy to see you back omg!!!!!! this was such a cute lil request, thank you! <3

masterlist directory

elvis was incredibly protective of you while you were pregnant. the moment you came back from the doctor and told him about that little baby in your belly he swore to you he’d never let a single person put a hand on you. no going out, no going to his shows, you were to stay inside of graceland until that child was born. 

oh, but you begged and begged and begged. he took you out occasionally—he had someone drive you to your appointments. 

he finished up another long run at the international which called for a couple of weeks in hawaii. you were 28 weeks, truly feeling the real aches and annoyances of being pregnant. elvis thought you were the cutest little thing ever. he gave your bump gentle kisses every day that he was home, sometimes sang or pressed his ear against it. but now he had a bit of a break, finally getting some time with just you and his unborn child. 

you had to buy new clothes for the trip—nothing was fitting you at this point. elvis was more than happy to buy you a whole new wardrobe, which you thought was a bit excessive, but you could never stop elvis from doing anything no matter how much you tried. 

you were packed, ready to leave the next day. however, you were in desperate need of a pedicure. the fingernails were already done, looking pretty as ever. toenails? horrendous. you couldn't even see them. did you even have toes anymore? so, you decided to take matters into your own hand and work on them yourself. 

an array of nail products sat on your vanity. it was too dangerous to attempt on the bed or downstairs, the last thing you wanted to do was get red nail polish on the white carpet.

a sigh left your lips as you propped your foot against the vanity with a grunt, opening the tiny bottle of red nail polish. you tapped off the access liquid and reached forward, trying to reach one of your toes—failing miserably. you grumbled under your breath, trying to do it again. “new position.” you mumbled, standing up instead and propping your foot on the chair. you bent down the best you could….but it just wasn’t working.

position after position, nothing worked and you wanted to give up. a bundle of frustration finally hit you. you sat on the edge of the bed, sniffling and wiping your eyes with the back of your hand as you looked at the unpainted toes. you felt so disgusted with yourself.

“baby, i was thinkin—” elvis spoke, wandering into the bedroom. the teary eyes and sad look on your face stopped his thoughts, looking at you worriedly. “what’s goin’ on? is it the baby? did something happen?” he asked, furrowing his brows.

you shook your head, gesturing to your feet. “‘m too big.” you mumbled again, “can’t paint my toes.” 

then, elvis laughed. 

you frowned at him, feeling more tears begin to pool once again. elvis got himself together and shook his head, “baby…baby, i’m sorry. it–it ain’t funny, i know.” he said, walking over to you and getting on his knees. he placed a hand on one of your knees, “i know you’re hurtin’. you’re doin’ one hell of a job, mama. lemme do it.”

“you’ve never painted nails before.” you sniffled, “just leave ‘em be.”

“nuh-uh.” he picked up the bottle of nail polish and scootched himself to your feet. “if we’re havin’ ourselves a baby girl, i gotta learn one day, don’t i?” he asked with a grin.

that sentence alone made you chuckle, feeling your mood begin to brighten up. “please don’t mess ‘em up.” you begged.

he chuckled and propped a foot up against his knee, getting to work. “c’mon, satnin. have some faith in ol’ elvis, would ya?” 

occasionally he’d rub at your ankles or calves if you got a cramp from being in the same position for too long. they chatted about names and all baby things as he painted her toenails, making sure to be extra careful not to get any polish on the sides. you loved how his brows furrowed when he was super focused on the task at hand.

once he finished up, he looked proudly at your toes with a grin. “look at those lil’ sooties.” he said, “tell me i did a good job, honey. don’t they look nice?”

you sat up a bit to get a look at them from the angle you were in, taken back by how good of a job he did. “wow.’ you admired them a bit more, nodding approvingly. “might have to ask for your help more often.”

he smiled and leaned forward to peck at your bump and at your lips, “anything for my babies.”

[anzulvr]

Hiii! May I request for some Hcs about Karma and a "famous" reader for something like acting/modeling related because her family? But actually her mother and brother are a little piece of shit with her, just like her internal environment. Her attitude at first is a bit dry, but she is a loving person (Plus if have a fear of knives and learn to deal with Karma and the murder thing in the classroom)

(Btw, english is not my first language, sorry if something sounds weird. Idk if this is very specific, I'M SORRY, it's been on my mind for a long time, I love your writing, it's the first time I ask for :( AAAAA I KNOW YOU HAVE A LOT OF REQUETS, take your time💐)

Thank you for the request! Sorry it took this long, I’ve been busy :(

Karma Akabane x Famous reader

(more description in the ask!)

. ˚◞♡   ⃗ 🎐 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

— If there’s one thing he makes fun of you the most it’s definitely the fame thing, anytime he sees you in a magazine or TV he snaps a pic on his phone and sends it to you like you don’t already know your on it😭

— Being kinda awkward at first isn’t something he minds he actually likes poking fun at you and trying to get you off guard.

— once you do let your guard down everyone is surprised Karma is the classmate who got you to open up, it’s an unexpected match but really fitting.

— sun x moon trope, (reader = sun, Karma = moon)

You both are inseparable and can talk about anything once comfortable enough, you’re also able to relate to each other, while your family issues come from different circumstances you guys are able to entrust in one another once you get comfortable enough and even find some relatable points in the conversation. (He’s the best secret keeper and gives surprisingly helpful advice when he wants to.)

— He finds your fear of knives and assassination in class endearing considering the knifes are more rubber like, he pokes fun at you for it but at the same time gives you advice and tries to help you get over your fear.

— if the fame is pushed on soely by your family and it’s not really what you want he’ll encourage you to just drop the whole thing and kinda rebel against what they want, wanting you to have control of your own life. (Parents wouldn’t approve of him whatsoever but it’s okay Karma for the win. This kinda depends on if he’s willing to put up a front for them and act like the “perfect” guy in their eyes or if they’re truly the worst and he doesn’t care enough to sugarcoat things for them, could go either way.)

— he acts like the paparazzi for fun, you’ll be sitting doing homework or something and his phone camera flash will go off (he purposely has flash on to annoy you)

— corniest nicknames depending on what you do, he’s also the one who picks your code name from class, something like “Hollywood”

Bonus note:

If you do Film, Kayano is mega jealous AND starstruck by you because the girl is a theatre nerd, definitely recognized you when you first went to 3E because she’s a fan and DEFINITELY asks you to hook her up with jobs in the film industry 😭 also depends what movies [name] acts in though because if it’s more action Nagisa would be second in line for that autograph (right behind Karma who asks for two because he wants to sell one on eBay)

MIMURA TOO OMG (the director student of 3E) he’s asking so many questions of the industry and is invested in everything you say.

If you do modeling, Rio is the first to recognize you when you walk in because she’s obsessed with your makeup/clothing brand. Also Yada whose into fashion and all that stuff, Yada is the type to make those cute little fashion inspiration boards and you’re on it of course.

Sorry for any spelling mistakes!! Please tell me if you catch any so I can fix! 🩷

[mickandmusings]

brotherly advice

pairing: professor au!sam winchester x TA! fem! reader

word count: 1.3k

summary: when breakout attorney sam winchester decided to leave his life of law to teach at his alma mater, nearly everyone in his life thought he had made a mistake. sometimes your biggest 'mistake' can lead to the happiest of consequences.

based on this request! (so sorry, I saw your request and my mind ran with this idea. it's probably not exactly the idea you had in mind.)

warnings: fluff, age gap relationship (sam is in his 30s, reader is in her 20s), au from supernatural tv show, sam and dean are still close because I refuse to believe they wouldn't be in any other universe, probably incorrect law terms/knowledge (author has little law knowledge), probably incorrect college knowledge (author was never a ta)

-

When Sam Winchester-up and coming, breakout young attorney-announced his early quits of practicing law to return to his alma mater to teach, everyone had called him crazy.

Well, almost everyone.

The day Sam decided he wanted to quit, he sat in his older brother's garage, his tie untied and the sleeves of his formal shirt rolled up his arms, nursing a beer. Sam finally spilled his well-kept secret to Dean, awaiting another disappointed look and pleas for him to rethink this. Instead, Dean nodded, took a swig of his own beer and began working underneath the hood of the car between them.

"Good for you," Dean's rough voice came after a moment. "I don't think you're making a mistake at all, Sammy. You should go for it, that job is suckin' the life outta you."

Sam knew Dean was right, Dean had always been wise in his own way. A few weeks later, Sam had settled into a life of sweater vests and headaches induced by reading half-assed international law essays from freshmen. Sam had been hunched over the desk in his office, rubbing his temples with his eyes closed when the sound of his office door opening alerted him to someone entering the room. He sighed, not even looking up before he spoke.

"Office hours are on Mondays and Thursdays."

"Um, noted, but I'm not here for office hours. I'm Y/N, your new TA? You are Professor Winchester, right?"

Sam's green eyes popped open, looking up at the figure standing in front of his desk. Y/N stood in front of Sam's desk with a wide-eyed look, and Sam took in her appearance. She was dressed in a professional manner, a folder of papers in her arms and an unconvincing smile drawn across her face. Sam swallowed thickly as he felt embarrassment wash over him, he had completely forgotten about meeting his new TA today.

"Uh, right! Of course, I-It completely slipped my mind, it's been a long day already. And please, call me Sam."

Y/N chuckled slightly, sitting in the chair in front of his desk.

"It's alright, Sam, I get it."

Over the course of the first few weeks of Sam and Y/N's newfound work relationship, Sam noted several things about her-Y/N was quiet, punctual, and completely professional. To Sam, she was too reserved, he was used to the cocky blabbing of attorneys at his old job and Dean's (mostly) nonsensical chatter in his leisure. After weeks of her sheer silence, Sam began the efforts of getting her to talk, which seemed to work in his favor. He quickly learned things about her: Y/N was a senior law student at 26-a late bloomer in the college world, her favorite movie of all time was Top Gun-which Sam made fun of her incessantly for-and her favorite guilty pleasure was the chocolate croissants at the bakery across from her apartment. Through their completely unserious chatter, he found out more personal things about her, like how she truly, truly hated law. It had been her parents idea for her college plans, not her true heart's desire. Y/N wanted to be a writer, to write her own series of fantasy books.

As the school year progressed, so did Sam and Y/N's friendship. She found herself hanging around his office more often, enjoying his company versus that of her classmates. Late office hours turned into him inviting her for dinner at the local 24-hour diner, and their dinners turned into something neither of them wanted to admit: Sam quickly found himself staring at Y/N longer than necessary, and Y/N kept imagining what it would be like to run her hands through Sam's long hair.

After Y/N's graduation from Stanford, their talks had moved to his apartment: Y/N spending hours helping him grade essays or Sam helping her proofread chapters of her own book over glasses of wine, all of which led to Y/N sleeping on Sam's couch-despite his protests and begs of her to take his bed instead. However, after a night of one-too-many glasses of wine and brushing touches of each other's hands, Y/N and Sam had ended up sharing the bed instead. Now, her fantasy novels lived on the same bookcase as Sam's textbooks, her sneakers in the door next to his much larger boots, and her weighted blanket that Sam's feet peeked out from the bottom of was draped across their bed, which is where the pair slept this very moment.

-

The sound of Sam's six AM alarm made Y/N's eyes open sleepily, realize where she was, and more notably, what time it was, before she curled back into her pillow and closed her eyes. The sound of Sam's yawning and the removal of his arm slung around her waist made her groan, feeling cold without Sam's furnace-like warmth against her. She heard Sam shuffle into the bathroom to get ready for his morning run, her eyes fluttering shut again, barely even registering the kiss he left on her forehead before he left out the door.

Y/N woke several hours later, sunlight shining through the curtains of she and Sam's bedroom, birds chirping in the distance, and the sound of Sam's footsteps sounded in the kitchen-likely cooking breakfast. Y/N stretched her arms up, lifting the covers and sliding on her slippers as she shuffled lazily into their living room. Sam's tall figure stands at the stove, flipping something in a pan. His running clothes had been traded for his leisurely lounge wear, his hair still damp from his post-run shower. She guessed he hadn't heard her come in yet, so she slowly made her way to him, wrapping her arms around his torso and resting her head on his back, still sleepy.

Sam laughs, his empty hand rested on her arms, his chest warming at her touch His voice comes out low and soft.

"Mornin', baby."

Y/N groans, still not quite awake enough for words. Sam laughs, turning off the eggs he was cooking and pulling her to his front, her head resting on his chest now. Sam kisses her head, his hand running through her unstyled hair. Silence ensues, until Y/N notes new items on their counter-a bouquet of carnations and dahlias in a vase of water, and the signature red box adorning the logo of the bakery across from her old apartment. Her head lifts to rest her chin on Sam's chest, looking up at him.

"Flowers?"

Sam's eyes swivel to the flowers in the vase before turning back to her.

"Yeah, got those from that flower cart right down the bakery, the one that elderly couple runs?"

Y/N's mind blanks, her sentence coming out without thinking.

"You bought me flowers?"

Sam gives her a confused smile, his hand tucking the hair in her face behind her ear.

"Uh, yeah?" He lets out a confused chuckle. "Baby, are you still asleep?"

Y/N looks up at him. "Why?"

Sam furrows his eyebrows, his big green eyes meeting hers.

"Does there have to be a reason? Just, saw the flowers, they were beautiful, made me think of you." Sam shrugs.

Y/N's eyes go soft, her shoulders dropping as a smile forms on her face. She stands on her tiptoes to reach Sam's lips, his hands coming on either side of her hips as he deepens the kiss.

"I love you, Sam Winchester," Y/N speaks after they break apart, the statement causing Sam to pull her in for another kiss, completely forgetting about his own breakfast in favor of enjoying her touch.

Nearly everyone had told Sam he had made the biggest mistake of his life, but now, as he looked at the woman he loved, he realized he hadn't thought anything he did was a mistake. He was glad he'd taken his brother's advice. Y/N smiled at his big green eyes and goofy smile, pulling him in for another kiss, her hand running through his hair. Sam smiled into the kiss and pulled her closer by her hips.

He'd have to thank Dean later.

[barcalover86]

GAVI ONE SHOT part 2

Summary: After Xavi finds you in an intimate moment with Gavi at your office, things are starting to have a turn.

Will you lose your job?

Little spoiler alert, so you know what happens - Gavi- panick attack (Real Madrid - Fc Barcelona)

Part 1 here 👆

Gavi was kissing your neck and took your hand to put it on his hard one. You didn't even hear the footsteps because you were so into the moment, until Xavi, after several knocks, came into your office.

When you saw him, you panicked so hard that you almost fell again.

Gavi took his shorts to cover himself, but it was obvious that he was only in his underwear, on your office bed with you besides him.

What Gavi felt in that moment was something that he had never felt. He wasn't scared for his career, but yours. He knew Xavi wouldn't let go of him because he was an important player, but you.. you were at the beginning. The time when you had to make your trust to others and now because of his stupid men needs, you could leave the team.

He didn't feel something for you, this being the second time he actually looked at you. You were only a clumsy girl who had a chance to work at her dream job and know he had ruined it.

When Xavi saw the two of you together, he immediately closed the door.

"Gavi, ponte los pantalones y en 5 minutos quiero que estés en mi oficina, y/n!" (Gavi, put on your pants, and in 5 minutes, I want you to be in my office, y/n.)

He somehow felt miserable. He looked at you only to see you looking at the floor. He felt sorry, but it didn't affect him. He was only a football player and you a girl that had nothing to do with him.

He left you without saying a word, and you went to Xavi's office like he had told you.

"Can I come in?" you asked while knocking

"Si, por favor"

You sat in front of him. He looked at you with disappointment.

"I wanted to offer you an opportunity. To give you a chance to make your dream come true. You seemed a girl who didn't make any problems. I was never that wrong in my interly life, y/n! I get it, you like Gavi, but why here? Why couldn't you wait 4 more hours? Why risk it all?"

Your eyes were starting to tear up. You were afraid that if you opened your mouth, you will cry. You wanted so bad to tell him that it wasn't your fault, but somehow it was. You let Gavi touch you.

"Now don't you stay here and cry! I wanna know the truth!" he was now more furious.

You didn't want to blame Gavi. You just couldn't. You were afraid of his career more than yours, and that made you question your heart. You weren't in love, were you?

"C'mon, y/n! I am trying to give you a chance to explain your behaviour!"

"I don't know what to say, truly. I am so sorry that this happened, and I don't know what got into me. I would never do such things like that, especially at work! I am not even experienced with this stuff. Why would I want to try it at work and risk my job? I truly don't know what got into me. I just couldn't refuse. My body couldn't say no. Lo siento mucho, Xavi!"

He was so disappointed in you, but understood that fact that you were in love. He wanted to make you learn from your mistakes, especially since you are only a 18 year old. You were just a child. But as well, he couldn't get over the fact that this might happen again, so he asked you to go home and come back tomorrow when he would tell you his final decision.

You were sure that he would want you to never come back there.

Gavi was sad all day long. All the thought was your face when you saw Xavi.

"Hermanito, que pasa?" asked his sister.

"Nada"

The next day, he saw you going to Xavi's office. Your face was sad and tired. Tomorrow, they had an important match with Real Madrid, so he had to go to training.

The match was at 20 (8 p.m.). Now, it was 2 hours earlier, and Gavi was freaking out. He didn't see you where all the people that worked for Barca were. He started to panick. Maybe Xavi fired you for real. Pedri was really concerned about his friend and felt sorry for both of you. Gavi said that it was his fault and the night before he couldn't even sleep. All he thought about was you. Where were you, how were you, what were you doing? It drave him insane. He was crazy over you.

He saw Xavi and decided to go and ask him about you, but then Xavi walked away angry.

That was it. You were gone, and it was only hid fault.

In the chancing room, he was so silent that everyone was concerned about him. He usually talked to everyone and now he didn't even had the energy to be awake.

"Vamos gavi, te necesitamos para ganar. Por favor, despierta estos 90 minutos y luego puedes estar tan triste como quieras." tried Balde to cheer him up, but only made him even sadder.

"Come on, Gavi, we need you to win. Please wake up these 90 minutes, and then you can be as sad as you want."

The first 20 minutes were balanced. Both teams were going hard for the win. You were staying home watching the match. Now you had another reason to watch it. Gavi. He seemed ok, not in pain at all, but that was all a lie. He suffered the most.

He was trying so hard to keep his mind on the game, but every minute, he was looking for you. Maybe you came here later, but that wasn't the case. Maybe Xavi even told you never to come again to this stadium.

All these emotions were killing him, and at the minute, 30', when everyone in the stadium was shouting his name, he felt his heart break. Barca was going to attack. Pedri gave the ball to Lewa, and he scored. 1-0 for Barca, minute 31'. Everyone was screaming. Every Barca fan was happy, even you at home, except Gavi.

He fell to his knees, camera to him. At first, he seemed so happy for the goal, but the true was that he started to cry. He was crying so hard that he couldn't even breath anymore.

He tried so hard to catches the air, but not a chance. His face went pale and his mind stayed on your face. He started to panick and again, looked for you. You weren't there and that made him lose his mind. He fell on the floor, unconscious.

Now people were screaming in shock.

You didn't know what happened. Was Gavi OK? He was not!

Doctors came and took him out of the field. Xavi was in completely shock and was scared for the boy. After 5 minutes of him staying with the doctors he called your name.

"Y/n-"

AHHH HOW WAS THIS? Part 3 ? Let me know if you like this !

NOT MY GIF!

[storyofmychoices]

International Day of Women and Girls in Science

Celebrating three of the loveliest ladies: Olivia Hadley, Merida Rhys (@lilyoffandoms), and Casey MacTavish (@jerzwriter)

The interviewer sat down with Olivia, Merida, and Casey in the comfort of the diagnostic office, which the boys had since been required to vacate, despite one Ethan Ramsey grumpily insisting that it was his office and he would do no such thing. But today was not about him or any of the men. Today was about the girls! (As all days truly should be.)

Interviewer: Thank you all for joining me today. It's my pleasure to sit down with not one but three young, successful, and distinguished women of science in medicine. Olivia, you're a pediatrician, and Casey and Merida, you both work as diagnosticians. How did you find your passion for medicine?

Olivia: Well, for me, it started when I was a little girl. I loved diagnosing and caring for my bears and dolls. I took my toy stethoscope everywhere, set on saving the world. Now, it's about wanting to make a positive impact in children's lives. The joy of helping them grow up healthy and happy is truly a gift.

Casey: I've wanted to be a doctor as long as I can remember and was drawn to the diagnostic side of medicine early on. The challenge of solving complex medical cases and uncovering the root cause has been a driving force for me.

Merida: Likewise, the puzzle-solving aspect fascinated me. Being a diagnostician allows us to dive deeper into medical mysteries—be a detective of sorts—it's a constant learning experience.

Interviewer: In the fast-paced world of medicine, how do you manage work-life balance, and do you have any advice for others aspiring to do the same?

Olivia: Two words. Self-care! It's definitely about prioritizing self-care and making time for things that are important to me. I've particularly found yoga helpful and have a therapy yoga group once a week with the children at the hospital. I've been trying to convince these two—*tilts her head toward her two friends*—to join me in some cat and warrior poses, but let's just say, my enthusiasm hasn't quite rubbed off on them.

Merida: You know we love you, Liv, but—

Casey: —yoga gives me more stress.

Olivia: *laughs softly* I'll convert them one day. But seriously, it's important to make time to care for yourself. My advice is to remember that you can't take care of others if you don't take care of yourself first.

Casey: The work-life balance is a perpetual juggling act, especially in diagnostics, where cases can be unexpectedly demanding and schedules become unpredictable. Time management and setting realistic expectations are key. It's also important to have a support system, both at work and home and don't be afraid to take a break for a few minutes when you need it. Even a short break can make a difference.  

Merida: In the diagnostic world, there's this constant pursuit of answers to solve the puzzle. To maintain balance, I've learned to compartmentalize. When I'm at work, I'm fully engaged, and when I'm off-duty, I prioritize personal time. My advice is to find what works for you and not feel guilty about taking breaks. Balance is subjective, and it's about finding harmony that aligns with your values and what you need.

Casey: It doesn't hurt to have great friends to fall back on either.

Merida: I can't argue with that!

Olivia: Group hug! *wraps her arms around her friends pulling them in*

The three laugh and tease each other before settling back into the interview!

Interviewer: Edenbrook Hospital is known for its collaborative and supportive environment. How does that dynamic play out in your day-to-day work?

Olivia: Pediatrics often involves collaboration with various specialists to provide comprehensive care. Having a hospital with a culture that encourages teamwork is crucial for our young patients. Sometimes, even the little ones end up with rare and difficult-to-diagnosis illnesses. When that's the case, I'm glad that I have Merida and Casey to reach out to for help. 

Merida: Absolutely. In diagnostics, collaboration is key as well. We consult with each other and different departments to ensure we're considering all angles when tackling a case. We need to make sure we keep an open relationship with all departments so we know they'll be there when we need them. 

Casey: Working in diagnostics, it's really a team effort. Nothing is done solo. We're in it together. It's like having a second, third, or even fourth set of eyes and brains. We share our thoughts and insights, debate until we reach an agreement, and ultimately work together to provide the best care for our patients.

Merida: *laughs* Debate! That's a good word for what occurs between Ramsey and Carrick. But, you're right, at the end of the day, all we do is for the best of our patients. 

Interviewer: Women in science are often underrepresented. How do you navigate this space and inspire the next generation of female medical professionals?

Olivia: Representation matters. By excelling in our respective fields, we hope to show aspiring female doctors that they belong and can thrive in the world of medicine. For me, I want all the little girls I work with to know they are capable of greatness even now when they're so young. 

Merida: It's about breaking stereotypes. We're not just doctors; we're diagnosticians and pediatricians—capable professionals contributing significantly to the medical field. We always look for ways to better ourselves and our field. We work together and support one another.

Casey: Exactly! Collaboration and support are absolutely essential, not just between ourselves and our teams but with younger medical students. Mentorship is crucial. Encouraging young women to pursue careers in science and medicine, providing guidance, and showing them that they can succeed are vital for creating lasting change.

Merida: We were honored to be invited to a local high school last week to speak with some science classes to try to encourage women in the sciences. 

Casey: We've also spoken as guest lecturers at Boston College. It was inspiring to see so many students at the start of their medical journeys.

Olivia: Speaking of starts, I don't think you can ever be too young to be inspired for a future in medicine. I was lucky enough to attend a career day at a local elementary school. It was really cute to see so many potential future doctors running around in their play lab coats! Seriously, I don't know how you two deal with adult patients all day when you could be spending time with little cuties!

Merida: It takes a special person to connect with kids the way you do, Liv. I've seen it firsthand. I think Casey and I are better suited for the medical mysteries of the adult world. Kids need someone with your warmth and patience. You've found your calling, and we've found ours. It's a good balance. The world needs both!

Olivia: Love you! Both of you! I think supporting each other is the best way we can help each other and foster a positive environment for future female doctors and scientists.

Casey: Too often women in the workplace are pitted against one another. Medicine is no exception.

Merida: Overcoming that and moving forward with a mindset of supporting and encouraging each other makes the workplace a better place for all and better for our patients.

Interviewer: Your support of each other is beautiful to witness. You three are not only inspirational doctors but also exemplars of enduring friendship, a bond I'm certain benefits all who walk in the doors of Edenbrook.

[neopuppy]

i follow both your nct and enha blogs, so i saw your reply to an ask on your enha blog which also mentioned renjun and it felt wrong messaging you abt him there so i will just message you abt him here haha. hope you don’t mind!!!

have you seen renjun’s message on bbl where he exposed a sasaeng’s twt account? that was bravery right there. i hope that’ll serve as an example to idols and warning to crazy fans

I was going THROUGH it last night bc of this jcjejcjdjd I genuinely dont know if I’d be as concerned if it was anyone other than Renjun only given the circumstances(SM ent. and their long history of torturing idols- plus what was also happening with cbx/exo yesterday)

going to say this as someone who is on my 3rd SM group that I’m watching fall apart in real time once again, this is likely Dreams last run(the irony) as a properly promoted group. the only reason they even still get so much is because they are huge in Asia and have always been(PROBABLY BC SM HAS NEVER ONCE TRIED TO BREAK THEM INTO THE WESTERN MARKET THE WAY THEY DID WITH 127 BUT THATS BC 127 WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FOR US FANS- we know how that went). its so hard to watch your favs literally cry for help and you cant do anything when its their own company working against them.

sasaengs are kept alive by INTERNAL staff that have access to information such as private schedule locations, hotels, flights, etc. why else would the SAME people always conveniently ‘show up’ to unannounced events that were never for ‘fans’ to begin with?

Renjun is one of the handful of actual talented idols we have in the age of 2024 where all kpop idols need to do is buy an entirely new face to debut and be deemed “it boy/girl”, makes me sick to my stomach that he cant do his job peacefully bc of people who relentlessly stalk him, purposely sit by him on planes, call his phone day and night.

I’m fr just a normal person, not famous just living my life and my anxiety is BAD. way worse when I was younger and would have physical panic attacks to the point of throwing up. I got help(therapy, meds, etc) fortunately and learned how to calm my anxiety but I always think abt how idols have to deal with this especially when I’m at the airport. like INTL travel is so fucking stressful and taxing on the body, I cannot imagine camera shooting at me the second I step off a 16 hr flight where weird ass ssngs followed me to the bathroom and took pictures of me SLEEPING the entire time! only to run after me in mobs after going through customs.

like idfk why anyone would defend this animalistic behavior. if an idol feels desperate enough to share their mental health issues with us as fans- coming from a place and industry where this is very stigmatized- WE NEED TO LISTEN, AS FANS WHO RESPECT AND TRUST HIM. I wish I could do something, but I cant, and I would beat up every ssng to exists if it held no repercussion bc famous or not these are HUMAN BEINGS, and they dont deserve this.

I really worry given the kpop track record of idols choosing their exit instead of finding help. I am so proud of Renjun for putting himself first and taking this time off to heal himself. like there is just so many things and I am worried abt all of Dream, they debuted so young and have some of the worst ssngs out of all of kpop with a company who wont lift a finger to protect them. in this case they truly only have us(the actual fans)and Renjun going public with this proves that.

I hope anyone who has invaded their privacy feels ashamed, and this goes for ‘fans’ that follow them around the world/are constantly in fan calls/fan signs etc- you are weird. period. nothing normal about that one-sided parasocial relationship that you brag abt online, and instead of spending $1000’s upon $1000’s on bothering an idol who will never fuck you, maybe consider investing in a much needed grippy sock vacation.

I think these people are beyond help, and unfortunately they have the funds or limitless credit to endorse their madness. I need more idols to see this and start calling out these weirdos. NO ONE SHOULD ALLOW THIS BEHAVIOR TO BE NORMALIZED, end of story.

[jedi-lothwolf]

Codywan Week Day 5: Sith Au

Summary: Obi-wan mysteriously disappears halfway through the Clone War. Cody is left wondering what happened to him and one day gets his answer.

Note: Mando'a used: Hut'uun (coward, the worst insult) and Cyare (beloved/loved). More at the bottom for after the story. Enjoy!

When Count Dooku told Obi-wan everything the Jedi had done to Sifo Dyas he started to think harder about his life. Slowly Dooku clawed his way in Obi-wan's mind and prospective.

They talked around the beginning of the war and now a year and a half had gone by. A lot happens in eighteen months. Including Obi-wan falling in love with his commander. He told him how he felt around six months before the Jedi disappeared.

Cody had a difficult time adjusting to his new general and even longer to realize Obi-wan was gone. The 212th watched his closely. They hadn't known that the two were so close.

Now, a year and eight months into the Clone War a new sith emerged. The Jedi panicked internally as they could barely contain the ones they had.

The sith was around 5'10 with auburn hair that had a single braid in it. He wore long, black robes with red accents. His face was concealed by a black mask. Some said he had bright red eyes while most said they were brown or burnt orange.

One thing was for sure. He was dangerous. Even if he didn't seem to be fond of killing things; which was strange for a sith; he could and would if necessary.

Somewhere in Cody's mind be wondered if it was possible for the sith to be Obi-wan. Even if it didn't make sense and Obi-wan would rather be dead than a sith, in the back of him mind he hoped it was him.

It made the clone sick to think about. Why would he want Obi-wan to be behind that mask? He knew that it was cruel to hope, but he did.

Learning he wasn't the only one was strange. Anakin and Cody had gotten close, both sharing the unimaginable loss of a loved one. Cody even told him about their relationship.

The 212th marched to the battlefield. As the fight raged on, they found themselves facing the new sith.

Obi-wan wasn't ready. He saw Cody's armor through all the chaos and suddenly he regretted everything. Designing to ignore it was his best idea.

Cody took one look at the man and sent a message over the comms, "Sith." That was all he needed to say. He looked back to the field and dreaded the fatality number this battle would have.

As the two got closer, Cody noticed something. The hair, the style, the almost knee high boots; they all looked familiar. His eyes had a look in them the man had long seen a few times. "Obi-wan?" He whispered. No that couldn't make sense. Obi-wan would never turn.

The sith turned to face Cody. The air was gone from the field as they realized something. No longer were they on the same side.

"Obi-wan!" Cody's voice ran through the field. This couldn't be happening. Obi-wan wouldn't do this to him. He wouldn't hurt anyone he didn't have to.

Obi-wan looked away. He never wanted to hurt Cody. He never truly wanted to hurt anyone. Dooku wanted control. He had wormed his way into the Jedi's mind and manipulated him into helping him.

Obi-wan Turned to face Cody again. They approached each other. "You fucking traitor!" The clone yelled, his voice cracking.

"I know." Obi-wan spoke softly.

As Cody approached the man he called off his droids. He allowed the clones to shoot them down, all he wanted to do was talk to his commander.

"Hut'uun! Take off that mask!" He swung to take it off but Obi-wan beat him to it.

"Of course, cyare" He let it rest in his hand.

"Don't you dare call me that!" Cody met Obi-wan's eyes. They weren't cold or hateful. They were just... sad.

Cody's hatred faded. Obi-wan was lost. The darkness had scuffed out the little flicker he had left. He wasn't sure what to do.

The clone couldn't just let Obi-wan drown. He loved him dearly but he couldn't let him leave. Resting a hand on the sith's shoulder, he sighed. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"What?"

"Why are you doing this?"

Obi-wan was silent for a moment. Cody knew what to do. Carefully he switched his gun from kill to stun. Kenobi knew but didn't stop him.

Quickly Cody pulled his gun and shot Obi-wan. With tears in his eyes he turned back to his men. "Finish the droids off. Someone take Kenobi."

One of the men grabbed the man and took him into custody. Cody wasn't sure how he was going to explain any of this. He wasn't sure that he was right or that he should have given Obi-wan a chance. The truth would just have to come out when he was on trial.

@codywanweek

Another note: I wasn't sure how to write it but Obi-wan did fall because of manipulation from Dooku. I think that can be gotten from the story but I wasn't really sure and wanted to explain it lol.

[lutawolf]

Be My Favorite

I don't think the depth is being explored in Be My Favorite as I think it should be, or maybe it's me just overthinking it.

For me, it seems pretty clear that Pisaeng has feelings for Kawee early on. What I adore most, is that it's truly capturing that confusion that most of us queer go through. That, I don't like him/her, I just want to be friends. That internalized moments of slowly understanding yourself.

Then, as they start to spend time together, he truly falls. It becomes more than a crush.

Now Kawee... I see a lot of opinions that are so different from mine, to the point that I wonder if we are watching the same thing.

Kawee is an emotionally detached introvert. What does that even mean, Luta? These introverts are trauma based introverts who experienced detachment at a very early age. Usually a combination of loss of a significant family member, bullying, and social isolation from peers due to money and ect.

This is very apparent in his childish maturity. He is smart, but he lacks the maturity to get things done, see the big picture, set long term goals, or understand repercussions. We notice a slow maturing with society exposure, because honestly, friendships and experiences are part of the bases for emotional growth. That whole, learn from your mistakes is really a thing.

I also think that it's due to this that he has the obsession of Pear. It's more like a goal and a comfort.

But notice that while he is still going after his goal. His personality changes towards Pisaeng after his return to the future and then once again returning to the past. You have to imagine that some of those feeling of being best friends and maybe even more, lingered. So now we are seeing Kawee battling with his emotions.

Does everyone remember when we first meet Kawee in the classroom. Notice that Kawee is much more familiar and comfortable with females? Even though he hasn't fully bridged the gap of introvert, he is in communication with females and the one friend. I find this important because, in my opinion, Kawee treats Pear as a friend. While he treats Pisaeng the way a female typically treats a potential lover. The way he asks for money, the way he begs for the cute turtle.

It's important to note that neither are showing homophobic tendencies. Kawee clearly has a gay bestie that he adores. They both just haven't found themselves yet, and that's okay. There is the misconception that if you hit college or later and don't realize you are queer that you have internalized homophobia, that's just not true. Take my daughter for instance, both her parents are bisexual, and we're extremely accepting, but it took her awhile to adjust to the fact that her dreams were going to be different from what she initially imagined.

I'm really concerned about the society we are living in, where we are determined to label certain emotions as negative. Like, jealousy, possessiveness, and confusion. We shouldn't because they are naturally occurring emotions. And they teach us about ourselves. They are important to our growth.

Anyway, I'm enjoying the show and I really do think that perhaps it deeper than what most are giving it credit for. Opinions @ellaspore and @bl-bam-beyond

[3-2-whump]

Not Everything (Almost Everything)

A Thomas Costa Backstory, as told by himself. Indented part indicates a flashback. Set somewhere between Long Weekend and The Hit

The fourth and final (planned) installment of this sad man’s backstory!

Full collection of Thomas Costa Backstories here

TW/CW: neglected childhood, but that’s about it really. Not that that isn’t important, of course!

It was almost adorable how lost and confused Khaled looked as he stood pouting outside the locked guard shack, like a puppy that learned of the electric fence the hard way. Thomas strode toward him, announcing “Nico’s taking the bar exam today, he won’t be here for lunch.”

Khaled startled a little, then drooped his shoulders and sighed, disappointed.

“I can keep you company for lunch, if you’d like,” Thomas suggested. He held up a paper bag of takeout that a (paid) intern dropped off at his desk to emphasize his point.

The young man glanced forlornly at the guard shack where Nico’s unsympathetic substitute sat. He hung his head and nodded, following his master to a grassy patch of lawn just in front of the old house. They both sat on the lawn and opened their lunches. For a few blissful moments, they ate in complete silence as the birds sang overhead.

Thomas broke the silence first as he gently ran his fingers through the manicured grass beneath him. “Man, I haven’t planted my ass in this grass in –god, what, twenty years or more?” Thomas laughed as the nostalgic memories resurfaced. Khaled stared dumbly at him, a forkful of Caesar salad hovering before his lips. “Oh, didn’t I tell you?” he asked rhetorically. He took his chopsticks out of his salmon poke bowl and used them to gesture to the grand mansion behind him. “This was my childhood home, Khaled, before it became our office. I grew up here.” He didn’t need to look behind him; he had this awful house seared into his memory, knowing it almost as well as he knew his own face. “Conference room 1 was my bedroom, conference rooms 2-4 were my mom’s, brother’s, and grandfather’s rooms, respectively. My office was my grandpa’s office, and everything else was knocked down and replaced with cubicles,” he explained, smiling a little despite the memories surrounding his family.

“We used to have lavish parties out on the lawn, right here, where the parking lot is now. Those rose bushes had to be moved closer to the house when we paved over the yard. Our gardener Rodrigo planted them, and Val, our nanny, used to cut the best of the best roses and put them in vases all around the house.” He sunk his chopsticks back into his bowl and picked up a shimmering piece of salmon. He hadn’t thought about Val in decades, let alone Rodrigo. Strange; he never truly appreciated the value of the old house’s staff before, not when they were just there all the time.

“You must’ve had everything you could’ve wanted, Master,” Khaled commented, chewing a piece of chicken thoughtfully.

Well, not everything, Thomas thought.

The background noises of the casino that picked up over the pay phone were not fooling Thomas at all. His mother’s repeated apologies rang hollow against the chimes of the slot machines. “My flight’s been delayed for the next four hours, Tommy,” his mother lied, “I’m sorry, but I’m going to be home late –real late, probably past your bedtime.” “Uh-huh Mom,” he said hollowly. “Try not to stay up late and wait for me.” “Okay…” he replied, blinking back the frustrated tears. “Anyway, um, happy birthday!” The boy tightened his grip on the receiver. “Is there anything you want me to get for you? The gift shop at the airport-” “Nah, I’m good, Mom,” he lied. He twisted the cord of the phone between his fingers as he leaned against the side table in the hall. “We had a huge party, and Grandpa got me a Game Boy, and Tony wasn’t too annoying.” The only thing that was missing was you. He stopped himself before he could say it. A light tap on his shoulder silently reminded him to wrap up the conversation. He glanced up at Val. Warm, soft, omnipresent -she was everything his mother wasn’t. She silently mouthed ‘wrap it up’ as she gestured towards the upstairs bathroom. “I, um, I gotta go,” Thomas muttered. “Val is telling me it’s time to take a bath and brush my teeth.” “Did I win? Did I win? Did I w- wait-” His mother’s tinny voice drew closer to the phone. “Goodnight Tommy! I love you!” “Love you too, Mom. You’ll win the next one for sure,” he added bitterly. He slammed the receiver down with more force than necessary and reluctantly followed Val up the stairs.

“Well, almost everything,” Thomas admitted. Khaled tilted his head to the side inquisitively. “I never did get that puppy I wanted,” he half-lied. He tipped back the rest of the bowl of poke while using the chopsticks to scrape the rice, shredded vegetables, and salmon scraps into his mouth. When he set the bowl back down again, he was grateful to find that Khaled was distracted with a dandelion head he’d found in the lawn.

Good, he thought, I wasn’t prepared to talk that much more about my past anyway.

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz

@bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

[booksandabeer]

Catching up

I got tagged approximately one million years ago by @burberrycanary 💙 and @somanywords 💛. Sorry it took me so long! 😬

Last song: I don't know the exact song, but I've been listening to the album Cat Power Sings Dylan: The 1966 Royal Albert Hall Concert a lot. I'm not a particuarly big fan of Bob Dylan, or a fan at all, really. However, I am absolutely a die-hard fan of Cat Power and I think that Chan Marshall is probably the best cover artist of...all time? Well, certainly of her generation. That's not to shade her original compositions, which I also love, but she's brilliant at taking songs that you thought you could no longer listen to because they've been played ad nauseam everywhere for decades, and then teasing something fresh and original and truly moving out of them. Listen to her covers of "I'll Be Seeing You" or "Mr. Tambourine Man" or even "New York, New York" and tell me they don't excite you in any way (if they don't, I suspect you have no soul). She's even great at covering herself! Please go and listen to her 2008 cover of her own 1998 song "Metal Heart" right now. It's one of my all-time faves and also, yes absolutely a Stucky song.

Relationship status: I have a person.

Sweet/spicy/savory: Everything all at once, please.

Favorite color: Blue, blue, blue. International Klein Blue to be precise. I cannot get enough of it. Also, I will die on the hill that chartreuse is actually a great color.

Last movie: The Last Stop in Yuma County which was a fun neo-western/crime thriller that didn't take itself too seriously and didn't outstay its welcome. Imagine that! A 90-minute movie. They still make those! Wild. If you like Tarantino and/or the Coen Brothers, but played at a faster, snappier tempo, you will probably enjoy this one too.

Last show: So many. Bodkin, which is the epitome of "this show doesn't know what it wants to be." Is it a quirky comedy? A crime show? A (very tepid) satire? It's not like you can't combine these genres, but the show doesn't combine them, it swings wildly between them. The ending was terrible. I've finally started watching Hacks (a delight!) and I'm still slowly making my way through Kings (only 2 episodes left). Also following along with the new season of IWTV, which remains an absolutely bonkers show. If *this* is what made it into the final cut, can you imagine what didn't? Oh, to be allowed to read the studio notes for this one!

Last thing I googled: The origin and meaning of a Norse/Russian name. For reasons.

Current obsession: The Terror brainrot is still going stong. I have learned so much about Arctic Exploration in the 1800s over the past few weeks. Also, in a curious turn of events, I have started reading Masters of the Air fanfic? I was unfortunately pretty disappointed with the show. I had hoped it would trigger a level-11 hyperfixation but instead it just kinda came and went and I didn't even think about it anymore. Then an author, who I still follow because they used to write Stucky, started posting one Buck/Bucky (yes, they are two different characters) fic after another, and one day I said, 'Why not give it a shot?' Well, here we are, tens of thousands of words later, and for the first time in my life I'm beginning to understand the people whose general fandom attitude is 'I don't care for the source material at all, but the fic! Oh the fic compels me!' I have been compelled. I'm now a person who reads fanfiction for a pairing that includes a character played by Austin Butler (sorry Butler heads, I just don't get it).

Wonders never cease.

--

Like I said, I got tagged for this ages ago, so I don't know who's done this (recently). I'm gently tagging @bromcommie, @aimmyarrowshigh, @zenaidamacrouras1, @shackleton2 and @hail-americas-ass. Also, I mean it when I say I want to know what everyone else is watching/eating/obsessing over/etc. Tell me! Open tag for everyone who wants to do this.

[baldwinivmybeloved]

★﹚﹒，Charper Eight ！ Xica X Baldwin IV

In the penumbra of his chamber, King Baldwin IV knelt, his thoughts rising like whispers to the starry sky. He prayed in silence, his lips moving faintly as he spoke to God. What fate awaited a leprous king enamored with a slave? How could someone like Xica, full of life and wisdom, reciprocate his feelings? These questions, laden with uncertainty and longing, pierced his soul as intensely as his disease corroded his body.

Lost in his thoughts, Baldwin hardly noticed Sibylla's presence as she entered the room quietly. She paused a few steps away from her brother, watching him with a mix of concern and curiosity. Finally, she decided to break his reverie.

"Brother, what has you so absorbed?" Sibylla asked gently.

Startled, Baldwin turned toward her. His eyes shimmered with restrained emotion, a blend of vulnerability and hope.

"I was reflecting, Sibylla. Thinking about love, about how to court a lady," Baldwin replied, his voice tinged with sincerity.

Internally celebrating that her plan was progressing, Sibylla kept her face serene as she approached Baldwin.

"Every woman is different, brother. Their tastes vary. Are you thinking of someone in particular?" she inquired, feigning innocence.

Baldwin hesitated for a moment, then decided to open his heart.

"Yes, I must be honest. I have met a lady whose intelligence and grace have captivated me beyond the physical. She seems to accept me for who I am, not for my appearance," Baldwin confessed, his words filled with hope.

Sibylla encouraged him with a tender look.

"You should try to win her heart, Baldwin. But also prepare yourself for the possibility of rejection. Love is such—a mix of risk and reward."

Baldwin sighed, his gaze distant.

"I fear that upon seeing my face, she will be horrified and reject me. How could anyone love a man who crumbles day by day?"

Sibylla took his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"If she is horrified, then she does not truly love you. But if she is willing to spend time with you, even playing chess, then she has already seen beyond your illness. Give her a chance, Baldwin."

The conversation continued, filling the room with words of comfort and wisdom. Finally, Sibylla bid farewell and went off to find Godfrey.

Sibylla found Godfrey in his study, poring over documents with a concentrated expression. She closed the door behind her, determined to get answers.

"Godfrey, I am worried about Baldwin. He is losing his composure over his desire to be loved. I need to know more about Xica," Sibylla said, her tone serious and determined.

Godfrey sighed and set aside the documents. He leaned back in his chair and began to reminisce.

"Xica… I met her when she was about fourteen years old. She has always been beautiful, but I stopped thinking of her as an ordinary girl when I caught her secretly reading my books and practicing with my sword, surprisingly skilled. One day, I caught her in the act, but she never revealed where she had learned those things. We only played occasionally, and she improved every day."

Sibylla listened attentively, intrigued by the story.

"I tried to propose to her when she turned sixteen, but she rejected me coldly. That surprised me, as anyone in her position would have accepted to escape poverty," Godfrey added, still perplexed by the memory.

"What do you know of her likes?" Sibylla asked.

Godfrey smiled slightly.

"That is something the king must discover for himself. As her mentor, I must give him space to learn. But I assure you, Xica would never harm him."

Later that afternoon, Baldwin IV stood on the balcony with Tiberias and Godfrey, enjoying the fresh air. A slave approached to offer them a snack, and Tiberias noticed a peculiar smell.

"Why does it smell so strongly of herbs?" Tiberias asked, frowning.

The slave bowed respectfully.

"I have cooked a medicine for one of my fellow slaves. She ate fish this morning and had a terrible allergic reaction."

Godfrey became alarmed.

"Allergies are a serious matter. What is the name of the sick slave?" he inquired.

"It's Xica, sir," replied the slave.

Baldwin's heart raced. Godfrey quickly stood up.

"I must go see her," he said, his concern evident.

Baldwin felt dizzy, everything spinning around him. Godfrey noticed his agitation.

"I will take you to your room to rest," Godfrey said, helping Baldwin to his feet.

At the Servants' Quarters

Xica lay in her bed, her body weakened by the allergic reaction. She bitterly remembered how she had decided to try a bite of fish that smelled delicious, only to find herself battling a severe allergy. Her mother and the other slaves, including the kind Jacobino, were trying to care for her with the few resources they had.

Godfrey arrived at the servants' quarters and greeted Xica, noting her critical condition.

"Let's get you to my room, where the doctors can attend to you better," Godfrey said, instructing several slaves to transport her.

Luisa, Xica's mother, watched with concern.

"Please, Lord Godfrey, my daughter means everything to me."

"I know, Luisa. She will have the best doctors taking care of her," Godfrey assured her.

In Godfrey's room, Xica felt weak and dejected. She regretted not being able to see the king that evening. Godfrey sat by her side, trying to reassure her.

"I feel like I'm going to die, but at least I've had a good life," Xica said dramatically.

Godfrey smiled faintly.

"Don't be so dramatic. The doctors say you suffered fish poisoning. They have recommended certain medicines, and don't worry about the cost. The king has already paid for them."

Xica was surprised by this revelation, just as the doctors were leaving. King Baldwin IV entered the room and asked them to leave them alone. Xica thanked him, apologizing for not being able to bow.

Baldwin sat by her bedside, looking at her with concern.

"Don't worry, Xica. They told me you will be fine, but it's sad to see you like this, your smile fading away."

Xica weakly smiled.

"Still, I am myself. And you, Baldwin, surely you are beautiful, full of virtues and intelligence."

Baldwin shook his head.

"I don't consider myself beautiful. My face is crumbling because of this disease."

Xica took his bandaged hand, looking at him tenderly.

"I don't believe that. Even if your face were completely destroyed, you would still be beautiful."

Xica found it hard to breathe, but she felt a little better. Curiously, Baldwin asked her:

"What is your favorite flower?"

Xica remembered with a smile.

"Once, when I was little, I saw a flower of a strange color. It was violet and blue at the same time, with a beautiful yellow center. That's my favorite flower."

Xica fell asleep while still holding his hand. As she rested, Baldwin IV withdrew to his own bed, his thoughts a storm of emotions. Baldwin immersed himself in his thoughts, questioning everything he had known so far. Could Xica be the exception? Could her indomitable spirit and brilliant mind be the key to something greater? The king could not stop thinking about her, and this unexpectedly deep connection filled him with a mixture of hope and fear.

That same afternoon, Baldwin IV and Godfrey were on the palace balcony, enjoying the fresh air and a quiet conversation.

"Baldwin, I've noticed something," Godfrey said, breaking the silence. "When you were taking care of Xica, I could sense a connection beyond the physical."

Baldwin tried to avert his gaze, but Godfrey continued.

"My king. If you feel something for her, you should be honest with yourself and with her, as time goes by. The poor Xica craves a love; you could be able to give it to her."

Baldwin sighed deeply, slowly nodding.

"You're right. But the fear of rejection paralyzes me. I don't want to lose what little I have with her."

Godfrey smiled understandingly.

"Love always carries with it the risk of being hurt, but also the possibility of indescribable happiness. Don't deprive yourself of that chance out of fear. Court her, create in her a blessing, form a life, have a family, an heir for whom the weight of your illness lowers more on the scale."

Baldwin nodded, with a new determination in his gaze.

That night, Xica, still recovering, had a dream that left her filled with conflicting emotions. In her dream, she and Baldwin strolled through the garden illuminated by paper lanterns and scented candles. The vibrant colors of the night flowers and the soft murmur of the fountain created an enchanting atmosphere. Baldwin, nervous but determined, took her hand and led her to a secluded corner where a table was delicately set.

"Xica, I've wanted to talk to you about something very important," Baldwin began, his voice trembling slightly. "Since I met you, you have been a light in my life, a hope in the midst of my darkness. Your courage, intelligence, and kindness have deeply moved me."

Xica looked at him tenderly, her eyes shining under the candlelight.

"Baldwin, you have also changed my life in ways I never imagined. You have been more than a king to me; you have been a friend and a support in the most difficult moments," she replied.

Baldwin gathered his courage, his heart pounding with anticipation. He knew this moment could change everything between them.

"Xica, I know I am a man marked by illness, but I also know that my feelings for you are true and deep. I want to know if there is a possibility that you see me not just as your king, but as someone with whom you could share your life," Baldwin confessed, his voice steady despite his nerves.

Moved by his sincerity and touched by his vulnerability, Xica squeezed his hand gently.

"Baldwin, I do not care about the scars on your face or your body. I see the beauty of your soul, and that is what truly matters to me."

As Xica woke up from her dream, she found herself alone in Godfrey's room, but the memory of her dream was vivid. Her feelings for Baldwin intertwined with hope and confusion, leaving her with a mix of longing and apprehension about what the future might hold for them.

[acourtofthought]

"The male had grown up alongside Eris. Had dealt with Eris’s and Beron’s cruelty. Had his lover slaughtered by his own father. But Lucien had learned to keep his cool."

"Elain had blushed, muttering about the impropriety of such things" / Elain flinched again, her face coloring. Nesta snorted. “You’re living amongst beings who have none of our human primness, you know.”

"As far as I knew, he hadn't come within touching distance since the aftermath of that final battle"

"She just ignored him or barely spoke to him"

Lucien

Water poured forth, Lucien hoisting Elain in his arms and out of the way

Nesta slammed into Lucien, grabbing Elain from his arms

Touch her, smell her, taste her— The instincts were a running river. He fisted his hands at his sides.

“It—it was a tug. On the bond.”

“No—I didn’t have time. I felt her, but …” A blush stained his cheek.

Lucien inclined his head in a bow, the movement hiding the gleam in his eye—the longing and sadness.

"an uncontrollable instinct - for a male to eliminate any threat. But he remained sitting. Even as his fingers dug into the arms of his chair."

he tried to hide his disappointment and longing.

Elain

But Elain was staring over Nesta’s shoulder. At Lucien—whose face she had finally taken in.

Her eyes were the brown of a fawn’s coat. And he could have sworn something sparked in them as she met his gaze.

she was aware of what he was to her.

Elain only stared at him for a long moment.

It felt … strange,” Elain breathed. “Like you pulled on a thread tied to a rib.”

Their gazes locked and held. But Elain said nothing. Did not so much as take one step downward. / And when Lucien turned to signal to Rhys to go … He did not glance back at Elain. Did not see the half step she took toward the stairs—as if she’d speak to him. Stop him.

Elain only wrapped her arms around herself and remained at my side.

Elain only shrank further into herself

Lucien is one of the authors favorite characters, confirmed in interviews. She even called him "her love" when she had Tumblr.

Which of these two options is more likely?

Elain is truly uncomfortable around her mate, one of SJMs favorites who she based off Jamie Fraser from Outlander, which explains her reactions to him in the series. Where she's just so put off by him that she's cringing away from how terrible / hideous he is.

Both Elain and Lucien are so used to being in control of themselves, where they make sure to dress the part, remain calm and collected and well mannered, where they rarely swear or lash out or act improper. But with their bond, their control is stretched so thin by the desire to be near and touch one another (confirmed by multiple characters who felt the bond snap) that they have both put distance between them because it's the only way they can hang on to the persona they present to the world. Lucien held her in his arms, blushed after reaching for her through the bond, has to physically restrain himself from reacting, has tried to hide his longing for her but now has not come within touching distance to her, though his struggle is clear to anyone looking. Elain's internal battle isn't evident, no one knows what she's truly thinking but as Feyre said, she's even got Az beat for secret keeping.

If this is why Nesta pushed Cassian away -

“From the moment I met you, I wanted you more than reason. From the moment I saw you in my house, you were all I could think about. And it terrified me. No one had ever held such power over me

Then why are we assuming there's not a similar explanation for Elain? Sure, she was willing to hook up with Az just as Nesta was willing to sleep with many males who weren't Cassian but that's easy to do when your feelings for that person don't overwhelm you. Casual and fun are what the doctor ordered after the trauma of being made, experiencing war and losing one's father.

That doesn't mean Elain won't eventually be brave enough to face the things that scare her