#this was living in my soul and i needed it OUT

[samkerrworshipper]

las 15.

mapi leon x reader, alexia putellas x reader (platonic)

warnings: the spanish federation ick

erm look at me posting something 😮 anyways enjoy haha i kinda hate it but need to feed yall somehow

“You need to be aware of the consequences of what could happen if you sign this document.”

You stared down at the mahogany surface of your lawyers desk, it was dark, sanded, smooth and shiny. Contemporary, but it also looked old, like a heirloom. It distracted your from the non stop drawl.

“I don’t care, I’m signing it.”

Your eyes travelled along the surface, lookinbg at the different waves of wood and the way that the dark colours marbled together.

“The RFEF could come for you, they could try and take your license. You might not compete at the world cup, the press will come for you, Vilda will come for you, Barca could reduce your playing time, it could be the end of your career. There are other negatives.”

You’ve thought about all of them of course, how could you not?

“I’ve already said it, I don’t care. Let them come for me, let them do whatever they want. I am done with it all. Fourteen other players have signed it, no? I will be the fifteenth and that is final.”

You weren’t a big fan of your lawyer, he was old and money oriented. He also didn’t have your best interest in mind, his sole focus was earning you as much money as possible, which had been fine up until today.

“So what? You plan to be the best in the world and never play international football again? This will ruin your career, it will put an end to the Ballon D’or campaign, it will change things for you, you can’t just do this because your girlfriend does it as well, this will be detrimental for you.”

The wood grooved at the edges, flattening out and curving so the edges weren’t too sharp.

“I refuse to stand by and submit myself to abuse. That’s what happens every time I go to that place, every time I go to camp I submit myself to abuse, torture, horrific conditions. The fact that you would even dare imply that I would do this for anybody but myself is preposterous. I am better than the condition I am being subkmitted to, I deserve better than to be objectified and treated as if I am dirt on that man’s shoe and I refuse to be treated as such. I have standards for myself and the people around me and I refuse to live by these for much longer. I’ll draft up the letter, I’ll send it to you for editing purposes and once your done you will send it to the RFEF, consequences be damned. You should be glad that I lasted two more windows then everyone else, honestly I’m ashamed that I didn’t do this earlier, but I’m ready to take a stand with everybody else now. I don’t want to play in a World Cup if it means this is how I will live my life.”

You looked up at your lawyer, hoping the fire burning in your soul was reflective in your eyes.

“This is a bad decision, you are thinking with your heart and not your head, this is unlike you.”

You pulled your eyes from the mahogany, standing up from your seat slowly.

“No, I’m thinking with my own interests, not yours, not my managers, not my bank accounts. I’m thinking with my mental health, my emotional health and my physical health. For the first time in my life I am taking time to focus on myself, so tyeah maybe it’s unlike me, but I’d like to think this might be the a better version of me, I’ll email you my letter, all you havr to do is forward it, if it’s such a struggle don’t even bother reading it, I don’t care what you have to say, I’m legally obligated to make you aware of any contractual issues so here I am. Give a fuck, don’t give a fuck, it doesn’t change anything for me, I’ve made my decision and nothing or nobody will make me change my mind.”

You didn’t wait around to hear what he planned to say in rebuttal, exiting the stuffy office as quickly as your legs would allow.

You made it to your car before you felt the tears flooding down your face. Even now, even after you’d tried to speak out you still felt like you were being silenced, like nothing had changed. That’s why you were doing what you were doing, why you knew this was what you needed to do. It didn’t make it any easier though, knowing that no matter what choices you made, even if they were for the good of you there were still going to be people around you who condemned them.

You were supposed to be at training, but you’d taken the day of to finalise all this bullshit. It was frustrating, knowing that the choices you were making for the good of yourself could end up being harmful to your career in a multitude of ways, it was all so fucking hard.

Everybody was at training, and yet here you were balling your eyes out in the carpark of your stupid fucking lawyers office.

If you hadn’t hit rock bottom at the last camp, the this was it, this was your final straw.

It was all too much, you’d been holding out for too long, but the mixture of the other 14 girls refusing to come back and Alexia’s injury had been enough of a motivation for Vilda to try and ruin your life. It had started with extra training after your sessions, then sessions in the mornings, then separating you from the rest of the team, limiting your diet, gym sessions, changing your schedules to everybody elses, punishing you for nothing, treating you like you were a slave to the Spanish Women’s team.

You were the best midfielder they had, excluding Alexia, and she was hurt, you were the scapegoat for the team, you were responsible for the wins and the reason for the losses.

You knew that with your leave, somebody else would end up taking your role, probably Aitana who was far to young to deal with that kind of pain, and you felt bad, you felt more guilty than you thought possible, but you couldnt do it for any longer, you couldn’t act like it wasn’t killing you on the inside for every second that you spent away with those people.

You hated it, you hated feeling like nothing, you hated feeling worthless, you hated living your life like it was pointless, you couldn’t do it for any longer, not when you were giving up every single part of yourself to keep yourself together.

You couldn’t stay how you were, crying in the drivers seat of your car milling over the memories of your last camp, you needed to leave, needed to go somewhere, needed to talk somebody.

Before you really knew what you were doing you’d started driving, letting the tears drip onto your lap and the steering wheel as you frantically drove your way through the city.

You couldn’t be alone, but you also couldn’t handle all the eyes of your teammates, so you drove to the one other place that you could think of where you hoped somebody would be.

You tried your hardest to wipe the tears from your face, but they kept falling, the sleeve of your shirt getting damper by the second as you tried to wipe up the evidence of your breakdown. It was useless, and eventually you gave up, stepping out of your car and ducking your head as you walked towards the lift and navigated your way through the apartment building.

The person you were looking for didn’t answer the door, instead you were put face to face with Olga.

“Hola chica, Ale didn’t tell me she was expecting visitors.”

You bit down on your lip, tapping your foot against the floor as you peeked around Olga, searching for the person you were seeking out.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t tell her, I can go home, I know she’s been busy with her rehab, I don’t even know how I ended up here.”

Olga tugged at your arm before you could spit anything else out, tugging you through the door and closing it from behind you.

“Nonsense chica, you’re very welcome here, Alexia is sitting out on the balcony doing her exercises, she’ll be more than happy to have your company, just head on through, your always welcome here.”

You nodded at Olga, smiling at her as much as you could with your lip still stuck between your teeth.

“Thank you, thank you so much, I really appreciate.”

You tried to ignore the tears that were still dripping down your face, it didn’t feel like you were crying, even though you were, it more felt like you were shedding a layer of yourself, the layer that was holding all of the trauma that you’d been holding in, like it was your way of getting rid of it all.

Alexia’s apartment was meticulously clean as ever, but you spotted her out in the sun easily.

She was standing outside, in a pose similar to ones you did in your yoga sessions.

She looked at peace, like she was calm, like she was serene, the complete polar opposite to how you felt and you really didn’t want to burden her with your problems, but you were here now anyways.

You tiptoed over to the glass sliding door, pushing it open, causing Alexia’s head to peak up at you. She looks at you with curiosity, but doesn;t move, instead her head nods you towards one of the outdoor lounges beside her, which you beeline for.

She stays in her position as she addresses you.

“The appointment with your lawyer didn’t go well then?”

You did a double take as you stared at Alexia, shocked at the information she’d somehow managed to obtain.

“You don’t take me for a idiota do you? Mapi told me you had a appointment you were keeping quiet about this morning, it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out who it must have been with, considering recent events. Although your girlfriend wasn’t smart enough to work it out herself.”

Alexia stayed in her stretch, looking at you as if to prompt you to tell her more.

“Yes, I had a appointment with my lawyer, Alexia.”

Alexia smirked to herself, she was one of the most obersvanet people you knew, nothing got by her, you weren’t all that surprised to find out that this hadn’t.

“You’ll be joining the group then?”

You hadn’t really comes to terms with it, let alone saying it out loud.

“That’s the plan, should be official by tomorrow.”

Tears were still dripping down your face, you couldn’t find yourself caring though.

“Good for you. You deserve better, we all deserve better, may we all hopefully make a change.”

Alexia wasn’t officially a part of the movement, but she was everyway besides a signature as equally involved as everybody else.

“It just feels like i’m letting the team down, that I’m letting everyone down.”

Alexia nodded at you, finally coming out of her stretch and walking over to sit down next to you.

“You’re doing what’s good for you chica, your doing something that is going to make you happier, that is going to make your life better. Nobody else matters beyond that, trust me.”

Alexia looked at you, like she was genuinely struggling to help you out in the moment. She had been your mentor at Barca for forever, you seeked out her advice more than anybody elses, especially in this moment.

“I don’t know how to do it anymore, it’s like he was trying to ruin my fucking life, like his whole purpose for everyday was to make my life a living hell, and I just couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t walk around camp acting like it was fine, I couldn’t smile at cameras and talk to the press and tell them about how great I was feeling when it was all lies, all I wanted to do was leave, or sleep, or die, all because of his and his staff. They were hardly feeding me, hardly letting me sleep, hardly giving me a break and expecting me to perform at the same level as everybody else, if not better. I just couldn’t do it anymore Ale, it was too much.”

Alexia’s arm placed itself on your knee, squeezing your covered skin.

“You shouldn’t have to, you needed to leave and you did, you made the right decision chica, you made a impossible decision that will make your life 100 times easier, it doesn’t make you weak, it makes you so incredibly brave for being able to identify that you were being treated wrongly and that you needed to remove yourself from that space.”

The tears kept falling, your pants were slowly becoming soaked with the raw emotion.

“Mapi did it because of the abuse, because she had a legitimate reason, I’m leaving because they worked me a little bit harder than everybody else, it feels like I’m overreacting.”

You could feel Alexia rolling her eyes from beside you.

“Really? Has Mapi told you that?”

Mapi had told you that you deserved the world, you deserved everything you wanted, you deserved to be treated like a queen, not how the RFEF was treating you. She’d told you the decision was yours, that she would support you no matter what you did, but she’d also told you that after every camp you came back with a little bit less of yourself, that Vilda was stripping parts of you away to use at his mercy.

“It’s not the same thing, Patri, Pina, Mapi, they all have good reasons, they’ve all been hurt, Vilda is just trying to make me better, trying to make me worthy.”

Alexia’s hand squeezed tighter.

“You’re lying to yourself and you know it. As long as he is in charge, you aren’t going to get treated how you deserve, none of us are. We’ve all paid our dues, yet they don’t give a shit, they break us all down until we’ve got nothing left to give. They broke me down until I did my acl, if you hadn’t of left they would have done the same to you. It’s nonstop, even if it isn’t the same kind of abuse as Mapi, it’s still abuse, they still rip out every part of you in the process. Each time you come back you have less of yourself to offer, but they keep taking, and taking, they make us feel nothing. It’s a waste, it’s a waste of the wonderful life we’ve all been gifted. We deserve to be happy, we deserve to be free of the pain.”

You nodded your head, you’d been avoiding telling Mapi about all of this. You were conscious that she was still working through a lot of her own trauma, and you didn’t want to reopen scars that were only just beginning to heal.

“I don’t know what to do Ale, I sign the papers, I write the letters and I’m taking a stand, I’m trying to make a change. I stay, I wreck it all, but I keep my career. It feels like I’m at a crossroads with myself, and I can’t talk about it weith Maps because god forbid shes already been through enough with her own struggle through it all, she doesn’t need me on top of that.”

Alexia stood back up, getting back onto her mat and pushing herself into another stretch, all whilst she maintained eye contact with you.

“Mapi’s talked to you about her struggles, si? She’s burdening you with her own problems, yet it doesn’t feel that way, because you love her and you’d do anything to make her pain less. I guarantee she’d feel the exact same way. You’ve been through a lot, none of us will ever be able to completely comprehend what you’ve been through, but if you started talking to your loved ones about it we’d be able to support you better. Or a therapist, I know Barca has been giving you sessions, but I mean a real psychologist, not just a person who tells you that you need a day off. You need somebody to help you, to actually make you feel like you deserve better than how they treated you, because I know that you know that but I don’t think you really believe it.”

The tears were slowly coming to a standstill, slipping less frequently down your face as Alexia talked to you.

“I don’t want to make her hurt any more than she already has.”

Alexia just looked at you, with that double eyebrow raise and little crinkle in her forehead.

“If you think that Maria wouldn’t do anything for you, even if it meant sucking every single inch of pain from your body and putting it into hers, she would do it and she would do it with a smile on her face. Her whole world, her whole solar system revolves around you and she’d want you to talk to her about this. She knows better than anybody else what you’re experiencing, she’s literally been where you are, so why not talk to her about it?”

It was true, for as long as Mapi and you had been together she’d tried to fix every single thing, she would do anything to make you feel better, this didn’t feel the same though.

“She deserves to live in a world where Vilda, where the RFEF, don’t affect her anymore. She signed the petition, she’s cleaned her hands of it all, and I should have done it with her, but I didn’t. I chose to keep playing for the benefit of my career, because I was greedy and decided that a Ballon D’or and any kind of accolade I was a shot at was more important then taking a stand and I hate it. I hate that now that I’ve won things that suddenly it’s all hit me that I don’t like what’s been happening, and I don’t want to support it. Mapi doesn’t deserve to go through it a second time, all because I was greedy.”

Alexia switched sides on her stretch, the sun was radiating off of her olive skin and her blonde hair, she looked ethereal.

“Have you told her anything about it?”

Alexia was frowning, like she was shocked by your actions.

“She knows that I was struggling at camp, she told me I was welcome to talk to her. After the last one she knew something had changed, she told me she was worried and I shook her off, because I thought she was being overprotective, but she was right, she had reason to be worried, I wasn’t okay. I’m not okay, i don’t know how to process it all.”

Alexia nodded.

“Go home, tell her what’s happening, see what she says, I think it’ll be a lot better than whatever you’ve thought up. Mapi has been my bestfriend for years, she’s dated my sister, she’s dated my friends and I can confidently tell you that she loves you more than any of them, you’re her do or die, all she’ll want to do is support you, please just go and talk to her.”

Alexia looked at you with such conviction and honesty that you couldn’t find it in you to try and fight her on the topic.

“Thank you Ale, I needed this, I needed to talk to somebody, needed to feel less crazy.”

Alexia did one last stretch before standing up, pulling you into a tight hug before you could pull away.

“You’re not crazy chica, you’re going through a very real, very hard time, and you deserve to have the people around you show you how much they love you.”

Alexia let go of you, shoving you back towards the door.

“Go talk to your girl, and sign those papers, and be happy, enjoy life, enjoy peace. You deserve it, chica.”

You nodded into Alexia’s shoulder, letting go of her and slipping back into her apartment, leaving her to get back to her stretching.

You shivered when you spotted Mapi’s car already parked in her spot. You knew you’d be cutting it close with getting home earlier then her, but you’d held a silent hope that you would be the first home. You hesitated to exit your car, scared of what the inside of your apartment held. You weren’t scared so much, more a little bit tentative of the conversation that you were about to have, knowing that it could majorly impact your relationship. In your heart, you knew that Mapi would love you no matter what, but it didn’t calm the nerves inside of you as you pulled your keys from the ignition, pulled out the papers that your lawyer had given you and exited your car.

The whole walk from your car, to the elevator and then down the hallway to your apartment had your heart thrumming inside of your chest. Your hands were quite literally shaking as you pushed your key into the door.

You toed your shoes off at the door, slotting them down beside the door before slowly walking your way through the entrance. It wasn’t hard to find Mapi, she was right in front of you, sitting down at the island bench, patting Bagheera and eating a post training salad. You knew that there was one meant for you still sitting on the shelf of your fridge, from when the two of you had meal planned yesterday. She looked so undisturbed, with the afternoon light coming in through the gaps in the blinds and the general silence that you were about to break.

You announce yourself by slinging your bag down against the wall, a loud enough noise that seems to wake Mapi from her happy daze.

She smiles as soon as her eyes set on you and it only makes the weight in your gut feel ten times heavier and the pain in your heart ten times worse.

You wanted to turn around and walk right back out the door you’d just walked through, but you couldn’t, not with the way that Mapi looked at you, like her whole day had been made by your appearance.

“Hola bebita, how was your meeting?”

Mapi’s smiling ear to ear, quite literally, you swear you can see every single one of her teeth. It had hurt you to lie to Mapi about where you were going today, telling her that you’d had a crucial appointment with your manager about some media things, it wasn’t a direct lie. You had met with your manager, instead of it being positive though, it had been quite the opposite.

You didn’t have any words to reiterate to Mapi, so instead you just picked up the papers that were tucked away in your hands and placed them down on the island infront of her.

Mapi looked at you with confusion for a few seconds.

“Just read them, you’ll understand it more once you have.”

Mapi didn’t hesitate, picking up the first piece of paper and scanning over it, before moving onto the second, then the third and so on, till she’d made it through the entire stack.

You stood anxiously on your toes the whole time, balancing from one foot to the other as you contemplated how Mapi was going to reply to this sudden change.

When she did finish, she looked up at you, a lot of questions hidden behind her curious eyes.

“I’m resigning, or requesting they don’t call me up. I don’t want to play for a federation that doesn’t care about me. I’m sorry I didn’t do it earlier, but I wasn’t ready and I’m sorry I’m bother you with it now but I’m also sorry I didn’t tell you about it earlier, I met with my lawyer for the first time today to sign the documents and write my statement. If it all goes to plan then they should be out in the next week. I don’t want to do it anymore, I can’t do it anymore, I’m sorry.”

Mapi blinked a few times, like you’d just blindsided her completely, and you figured you had.

“I didn’t even really know it was happening until after last camp, and I just realised that I was so exhausted and so tired and so sick of it all that I couldn’t do it again. I should have done it earlier, I should have been a part of it all from the start but I was scared and I still am scared Maps. This is supposed to be my job, I’m supposed to be grateful for the opportunities I’m given and yet I feel like I’m a fraud and I’m lying when I say that because I’m not grateful and I’m not happy and I can’t do it anymore, I just can’t. I’ve been praying every night that I get injured, so that I get a break like Ale, and I don’t want to feel like that anymore.”

Mapi just stood up and pulled you into her arms, silencing the rambling and making you realise that you were now crying again.

She slowly led you towards the couch, bringing you into her arms as you tried to take control of yourself.

It felt like every piece of anguish, every piece of fear, every piece of internal hatred was slowly being pulled from your body and it felt so good, like you were somehow being healed.

Mapi wiated until you were coherent enough, until you felt more resurfaced, and less like the bloodn was rushing through your ears and every though of self-doubt was spirally through the different ridges of your brain.

“Princesa, you’ve made this decision for you, si? Not because of me, not because of anybody else, because you believe this is best for you?”

You nodded into her chest, enjoying the feeling of your own skin pressed directly to hers.

“I’m sick of them making me feel this way Maps, I don’t like it, I don’t think it’s right.”

Mapi’s body was surrounding you, her scent, her feel, her everything, and it was all you’d needed today, everything that Alexia had assured you would make you feel better.

Mapi’s salad was forgotten on the counter.

Bagheera was somewhere else.

It was just the two of you, just the two of you to face everything.

“We’re put into boxes, as women, men try to make us be everything and yet nothing. It’s not right, we’re expected to be as good as the men, but we have to behave eloquently, say our pleases and thank yous and never be ungrateful for the piss poor conditions we put up with. We’re supposed to be passionate, but we’re not allowed to over react in any way. We can only underperform, not overperform. There are no expectations for us, because we’re women and we’re supposed to be worse than the men, but they’re are also so many expectations for us to meet. It’s okay for you to be done with that, there is nothing wrong with you saying no to constantly being abused. You’re not a fraud bebita and I’m here for you no matter what. You’re my girlfriend first, a person second and a soccer player last. It doesn’t matter, none of it matters, you matter, you’re feelings and how you feel is what matters.”

Mapi’s hand pulled your head from her neck, her lips connecting with your forehead with ease.

“I’m not doing it anymore Maps. I want to be strong, I want to say no. I want to be a part of the right side of history. I don’t want to sit around pretending everything’s fine when it’s not fine. It’s nowhere near fine and until there is a change it won’t be.”

Mapi nodded, pressing a series of kisses to your forehead.

“Then we’ll work it out, you’ll keep me in the loop and we’ll figure it out together, no more hiding these big feelings from me. We’ll go and see our therapists and take soe time off and do whatever you need to feel safe and happy, because what matters is you, nobody else, si?”

You nodded your head once again, enjoying the same smile that her face was covered in. her lips migrated down to your cheeks, pressing kisses to the rosiest parts, pushing the tears away.

“I’ve got you bebita, we’ve got each other, we’re going to be fine, we all are.”

[gallusrostromegalus]

do you have some thoughts on how Grimmjows obsession with Ichigo is gonna turn out in AIEWAM later?

he is in my mental microwave again

Nobody, least of all Grimmjow, understands his obsession with Ichigo until they remember the other two souls that are almost irrationally obsessed with him.

I'm AEIWAM, Kon is a cat. Or at least, a mod soul possessing the taxidermy body of an orange tabby. But he's a lot more cat this time, as opposed to like. A random pervert.

Kon loves Ichigo. He loves how Ichigo's idea of quality time is sitting next to someone and doing an activity together and not talking. He loves how he can always bully his way into Ichigo's lap, or giving him A Little Cheese Treat. He's devoted to Ichigo. He'd die for him. He'd kill for Ichigo. He may have already done so, but don't tell him that.

Yoruichi also adores Ichigo. Something about his vibe feels like a natural bond. He's just pleasant to be around. Training Ichigo leaves Yoruichi with a sense of peace and fulfillment like nothing else. She'd kill for nearly anyone, but Ichigo? She'd live through the horrors for him.

Orihime is the first to realize it, when she's prisoner in Las Noches. Something about Grimmjow's mannerisms is strangely familiar... Then she hears the name of his resurrection and everything falls into place.

Ichigo is a Cat Person.

Of course Grimmjow is obsessed with him! Cats are naturally drawn to people they share a vibe with, and Ichigo has been attracting random strays to him for as long as she's known him. Orihime herself is technically one of them

Grimmjow is just a really big stupid cat, so naturally his attraction to Ichigo is also huge and stupid.

She uses this realization to her advantage immediately.

"Kon." She addresses the friend she managed to smuggle in with her. "I need you to keep Grimmjow distracted. Kind of indefinitely."

"Grimmjow? Tall, blunette and psychotic? That Grimmjow? I'd die for you but that's just stupid." Kon protests.

"Don't worry, you're uniquely suited for dealing with him!" She cheers. "The name of his resurrection is "Pantera"! He's just another Tom for you to put in place and you've been doing that since before he even had thumbs."

Kon blinks, the pieces suddenly falling into place.

"You're RIGHT!" He grins, claws flexing in anticipation. "I don't even need to be physically present to drive him to madness and break him! In fact, it most effective if he never sees me at all! Ohhh- this is gonna be fun..."

"You've got a plan then?" She asks.

"Yeah! Hand me that glass of water, I'm gonna start by pissing all over his stuff!"

[alastorss]

we've seen Alastor with deaf reader. but what about Alastor and blind reader?

how confusing it would be for them meeting Alastor for the first time with the radio filter overlaying his voice

and how confusing it would be for our deer man to find out he grew soft spot for reader? bc they find his voice very soothing to listen? since their hearing senses are hightened due to the blindness

so in one of their shared peaceful moments he asks reader if they want to see him. and to answer their startled expression he just brings their hands to lay on his face.. for them to "read" his appearence..

sorry if there are mistakes, Im not eng. love your writing sm, thanks for quality food you bring us, fluff-starved people!

💕

a/n: hiii hun!! i'm so so sorry i took so long to respond to this, but i really wanted to write something for this because aaaaahhhhh that's such a good idea omg 😭❤️ i hope you like it!

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Alastor once believed himself to be the demon of all demons.

He was everything a Sinner wanted to be and everything a Sinner feared in one soul—a package wrapped up pretty with a bowtie. He loved it. Thrived on it.

There was something so delicious about terror.

He played into his horrifying image. Purposefully made his presence known; broadcasted screams for all to hear. Power and fame only made him greedier for souls.

Being the center of attention came naturally for him. As natural as breathing, friends would jest. He attracted eyes wherever he went. Some admiring. Some not.

So it was quite a shock when you bumped right into him on the street and didn't immediately comb him over with your eyes.

"I'm sorry," you quickly stammered out, fiddling with your own sleeves.

Finally, you looked at him, but he could tell you were just looking for the sake of looking. Absently, you stared at him as you waited for a response.

Perhaps you expected him to chew you out. To lay a hand on you or to drag you into the alley so he could kick you until you bled. He could see it in your expression.

His heart uncharacteristically ached.

Instead, he steadied you by the shoulders and fixed a stray lock of hair out of your face.

"Carry on, my dear," he mused.

He was surprised with how pleased he was when you smiled at him. Big and wide—charming, really. He was hooked.

Alastor became a frequent in the area, always keeping his eyes peeled for you so he could take your arm into his and ferry you around. You insisted that you were fine, that you didn't need help, but he denied that those were his intentions. He simply wanted your company.

(And to scare off any other demons who had hit you or spat at you before.)

Eventually, you grew fond of him, too.

You could hear him so clearly—the trail of death and despair he left behind was loud, after all. Screaming souls followed his every move. For some reason, it comforted you.

He never tried playing nasty pranks on you. Never tried sneaking up behind you just to scare you, or hit you just because he could.

Alastor did not feel like a demon anymore.

Sinister and cruel, he thought the words didn't suit him when you were walking hand-in-hand.

For as many lives as he took, he had a soft spot for you.

His very presence brought you ease. You knew no one dared to approach a weak Sinner like you when you had him dangling off your arm. He found ways to fill the silence when you weren't chatting, just assuring you he was there.

"You're too kind to me," you once said to him. "You're not an angel trying to trick me, are you?"

"I am!" He chuckled, feeding into your little joke.

The way you laughed made his heart squeeze in the same way it had when he first met you. For a moment he felt nothing but guilt burn in his stomach.

He was the demon of all demons, but for some reason, he couldn't stand you thinking he was a demon at all.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Ever since convincing you to come to the hotel with him, you've not left his side once.

Not that he was complaining about it.

Surrounded with new people and often jolting out of your own skin whenever they began impromptu musical numbers, Alastor could tell you were entirely out of your element.

You were slowly but surely beginning to open up to your new home and the compatriots that came with it. However, you were always the most relaxed with the Radio Demon's soothing presence. He found himself cherishing the moments that you spent alone.

Conversation was not needed to tell each other how you felt. He appreciated that the most.

It's why he is slightly confused when you open your mouth as if you want to say something before snapping it shut with a loud huff. Again and again, you keep it up, sighing and groaning quietly to yourself.

Finally, Alastor has had enough. "Is something the matter, dear?" He asks, peering up from his newspaper to eye you on the other end of the couch.

"N-No!" You squeak, fumbling around with your hands like a cartoon character. "I just..."

He waits for you to continue, only to be met with deafening silence. Sighing to himself, he sets down his paper and scoots over to your side.

"Go on," he gently urges.

"I don't want to be a bother," you say quietly after a pause of hesitation.

He only stares at you, flabbergasted by the way you start to pull away from him. Stopping you by giving your shoulder a squeeze, he swallows harshly.

Your heart is racing so loud that he can hear it roaring in his own sensitive ears.

"You are never a bother," he quickly assures. "Come now, look at me."

Your brows furrow, unsure of what he wants you to do. You slowly turn your head to him with a confused scrunch of the nose. In all the time that you had known each other, he had never asked you to do something so pointless.

"Look at me," he pushes, hands sliding down your arms to take yours. He tugs you closer and brings your hands up to his face, allowing you to cup his cheeks.

Careful not to nick your skin with his teeth, his smile softens. Your hands roam his face tenderly, subtly squeezing at the fat of his cheeks. With your fingers tracing every part of him, from the bridge of his nose to his brows to the infinite curve of his smile, you relax.

"I'm a monster."

He had always tried to convince you that he wasn't terrible. That he was worthy of having your hands cupping his cheeks. But you could feel it—his smile. His antlers.

He's never felt vulnerable before. For some reason, it feels good to open up to you.

"You're just as pretty as I always imagined," you tell him with a shake of your head. Alastor flushes at your words.

No dishonesty. No fear. Your heart has stopped pounding in your ribcage.

That's right. He was kind to you, even though he was a beast. The demon had always thought that what he wanted most was to be feared, but he was wrong. You knew his heart before his form.

He shifts so he can kiss your fingertips.

"Well? What would you like to say?"

You suddenly freeze up, lips pressed into a thin line. Flustered, you sputter. "Nevermind, please just forget about that!"

"Oh? Keeping secrets from me isn't very nice, darling~" he muses. You groan, pulling your hands back to your own face to hide it.

Alastor only laughs, static crackling in his voice as he does. He leans forward, gently prying your wrists to reveal your face again so he can press his lips to your forehead.

He knows. The way you melt into his arms is enough. No conversation needed.

~

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[beomcoups]

F.U.C.K.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ex!bf Seungcheol x fem!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, smut, small fluff, lovers to exes au, 18+

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.1k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You've been on and off forever and you couldn't leave him alone if you tried. You have an itch only Seungcheol can scratch.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, oral, missionary, riding, praise, dirty talk, creampie, clit stim, multiple orgasms, a bit of overstimulation, Coups is a lover boi, angsty feelings about the relationship

𝐀𝐍: Thank youuuuu @hobeemin & @wongyuseokie for reading this for me and Beezy you are the best hype woman ever <3. Also thank you @aaagustd for making this sexy ass banner 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: 💿 F.U.C.K- Victoria Monet, Dirty Dancer- Orion Sun, Idea 686- Jayla Darden, Strings- iyla, Behind- Woodz, Forgive Me- Chloe x Halle, Art- Tyla, I Could Imagine- Alina Baraz, Good& Plenty- Alex Isley, Masego and Jack Dine, Skin Tight- Ravyn Lenae Steve Lacy, Idea 683- Jayla Darden, Body and Soul- Emotional Oranges and Biig Piig, Butterflies- Tyla, Between Us- Alina Baraz, Nasty- Tinashe, Under The Moon - Alex Isley, Jack Dine (spotify)

It’s complicated. Your Facebook relationship status has been that way for over a year. If someone asked, you wouldn’t know how to define your relationship with Seungcheol. You can’t say you’re just friends when the love is still there, but you can’t stay together longer to just work. Something happens, and you argue and split up. Months, sometimes years, can go by, and you feel like you’ve finally moved on, but all he has to do is call, or you have an itch that needs scratching, and there he is, ready to make it go away.

He stands there in front of you, his dark hair clipped and trimmed perfectly, highlighting the handsome features on his face: his dark, round eyes, high cheekbones, and plump pink lips. He comes dressed in a simple white tee and sweats, with an overnight bag in hand, as he knows he is staying the night. Seungcheol smirked as he walked in, placing a small kiss on your temple. 

“Well, hello to you too,” you say, shutting the door behind you. You watch him take off his shoes, walk into your living room, and admire the view of the city through your picture windows. You just moved into your high-rise condo a couple of months ago, and your job promotion allows you to level up in life and enjoy nice things for once. Your place looks straight out of a movie, with your tastes added. Your favorite color is blue, and you included it in your decor. 

“You kept the couch?” Seungcheol points at the royal blue sectional sofa with matching gold-trimmed throw pillows you bought from your favorite thrift store. “Yes,” you say proudly. “That couch is my pride and joy. We’ve been through a lot together.” Memories about the many times you spent together on the couch, clothed and unclothed, cloud your mind. He chuckles as you sashay to the kitchen, grabbing a bottled water. You offer him one, and he shakes his head, returning his attention to the city's shining lights. He’s been in your life for five years, meeting at a grocery store with both of your hands on the last bag of cherries. He relented, letting you have them in exchange for your number. You didn’t give it to him, hoping that you would see him again. At the time, you just moved to the city, and if you were meant to meet again, you would give him your number. A couple of weeks later, you did when you went to a birthday dinner with your former roommate. His eyes twinkled when you exchanged glances, and you felt like it was fate.  “You did it,” he felicitates you. “You did everything we talked about doing all those years ago. I’m proud of you.”

You would have late nights with him in your shitty old apartment, eating Chinese takeout in bed and talking about your hopes for the future. Seungcheol wanted to have it all: a nice house, cars, and riches beyond his dreams. All you wanted was a good life. You grew up poor, raised by a single mom who worked two jobs to ensure you had a roof over your head. You understood each other in that way, and it worked between you two for a while… until it didn’t.

“You got your high rise before me,” you appear beside him. “What does it feel like, being the top broker in your firm?”

“It’s nice,” he nods. “It keeps me busy.”

You knew that all too well. One of the reasons you broke up was time. His work felt more important than maintaining a relationship with you. You swear if someone called in the middle of the night, he would answer in a heartbeat. It’s not like you aren’t busy; you work on Wall Street. But you still made time to be with him at all important events and when it mattered most. The energy wasn’t reciprocated.

“I see nothing has changed,” you say, taking a swig of your water.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I think I am ready for it, though.”

“Are you now?”

“Yeah. There is no point in having all of this if there is no one to share it with, right?”

You didn’t have to say anything back because he was right. What is the point of working hard, making more money than your parents could ever dream of, traveling, and having life experiences without having someone to share them with? It also incredibly frustrates you. Why did it take five years for him to get to this point? The back and forth, blocking each other on all accounts. Was it worth it?

You two are silent, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance. His fingers slip in between yours, pulling you closer to him. Just being near him makes your heart skip several beats. No one like him can melt you just by his touch and presence. Yes, he can irritate you to no end, but he also makes your soul smile.

“I missed you,” he says, gazing at you. 

“I know.” 

You kiss him, the magic stirring in your chest as he returns your feelings; sparks all around you two like fireworks. Your hands explore him fervently, pulling off his shirt and throwing it on your couch. He unhooks your bra, helping you out of your shirt and exposing your breasts. He bites his lip as he palms his growing bulge, the very thought of his lips all over you making you hot.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers. 

You take his hand and guide him to your bedroom, climbing over your king-size bed. He follows you closely, his index finger sliding up your thigh. It feels electric, having him touch you again after so long. You have tried moving on, going on dates, and having one-night stands here and there. But deep down, those people weren’t him. Seungcheol knows your body, what makes you tick, your boundaries, and what drives you crazy. It’s exhausting trying to find that chemistry with someone else. Too bad you can’t just make it work. 

He slides your shorts and panties off with one hand, your naked body being illuminated by the moonlight. He notices your sheets, trying to hold it in before succumbing to a belly laugh. 

“Cherry sheets? Really?” He says in between breathes.

“Come on now,” you chuckle. “You know I love my little house on the prairie sheets.” “I swear you were born in the wrong generation,” Seungcheol expresses, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “Yeah, maybe,” you muse over his words. “I’m glad I met you in this lifetime, though.” He admires you, his thumb caressing your cheek before he kisses you again. This time, it’s more heartfelt, your bodies hungry for another as each minute passes. His hand travels down to your inner thighs, spreading your legs apart and slowly entering a digit into your wet core. Seungcheol licks his lips, watching your eyes roll back as you unravel his arms. “Shit,” you moan. “Keep doing it just like that.”

“I’m going to do more than that,” he whispers in your ear. 

Seungcheol was already great with his fingers, slipping one more in you as his tongue played in circles on your neck, your sweet-smelling perfume intoxicating to him. He loves the way your brows furrow when he goes deep, your mind focused on nothing else but cumming all over his hand. You play with your clit, drunk on the pleasure he’s giving you, with your wetness pooling onto your sheets. You two are connected in a way, in your own little bubble surrounded by ecstasy.

“Fuck baby,” you pant as pressure builds up in your stomach. “I’m almost there.” He pulls his fingers out of you quickly, snapping you out of your zone, and you whimper in protest. He aggressively pulls down his pants and briefs, revealing his hardened cock already leaking with precum. He slides down to your entrance, his face nose deep in between your legs before he dives in; his tongue attacks your sweet nectar. Sensational couldn't even begin to describe how you feel. He eats you with an enthusiasm that almost makes you laugh despite the deep pleasure he brings you. “You taste better than I remembered,” he mouths. “Cum for me.”

Your body is at its brink, ready to fall, when Seungcheol slips his fingers in, working together with his tongue to make sure you hit that pool of ecstasy. Your hands grip his hair, and your orgasm hits you like cool water on a warm day. You feel him smirk against your thigh, leaving you with lasting, small kisses before lifting his face and revealing your essence on the lower half. You cover your mouth to hold back your giggles, and he rolls his eyes, leaning over and kissing your lips. “I’m not sorry,” you breathe. “You knew what you were doing.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he smirks. “Especially when I’m going to make you do it again.”

Seungcheol lifts your leg, pulling himself back as he rubs his throbbing dick against your entrance. Your eyes grow wide as he taps your sensitive, swollen clit, a mischievous grin on his face. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says as if reading your thoughts. “I’m going to start slow.” “You don’t want me to blo—” you start to protest. “No, I’ve waited long enough,” his deep and velvety voice serves as a warning. FUCK.

He enters you inch by inch, stretching you out the way you like, your fingers already gripping the sheets. You look at him through a hazy daze, his focus on burying himself deep inside of you, bringing you a deep satisfaction. You enjoy watching his Adam’s apple shift when he moans, his voice barely audible while he dives into you. You remember the first time you slept together; he had your legs over his shoulder, fucking you long and deep on top of your blue couch at your old place. You both didn’t intend for it to happen that way; you were caught up in the highs of seeing a band you both enjoy, and one thing led to another. His dick is long with a bit of a curve, fitting perfectly like your pussy was molded and made for him. No one has even come close. 

“Give it to me,” you breathe. “Please, I need you bad.” Seungcheol loves it when you beg for it, and he obliges, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. Maybe it’s because you love him, but he is the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. The way his hips roll as he snaps into you, watching him come in and out of you with your wetness coating him, turns you on. Your hands grasp his face, your thumb slipping into his mouth as he fucks you silly. You can barely form words in your head, let alone say anything else but “fuck” and “make me cum”. He fucks you in a way that makes you have wet dreams and leaves you with a puddle in your sheets. If he were a Greek god, he would be Eros, the god of love and sex. That’s how bad he has you. “Turn over,” you grit your teeth. You lean up and flip him over, his throbbing cock still inside you as you are on top of him. You let your body take over, riding him while his hands are placed firmly on your breasts. You set the pace, and he follows, a harmonious rhythm between the two of you, your senses heightened to another level. You are on this incredible high, sliding on his shaft while you vigorously play with your clit, ready to cum. “Did you miss this?  He teases you as he grinds harder into you. “Did you miss sitting on this dick until you cum?” You nod fervently, your hand still playing with your clit, and you are ready to explode. 

“Fuck,” he grits his teeth. “I’m close. Let’s come together like we always do.” You erupt, screaming his name while he sloppily pumps into you, his hair sweaty and his succulent lips red from biting. He leans up and kisses you hard, your moans and words of praise swallowed and digested. Whatever you were going to say, he felt it more, your hearts beating in unison powered by your feelings for each other. He talks you through it, helping you come down from your high before he releases his own, spilling into you until he is completely spent. You’ve been on birth control for years, and Seungcheol is the only person you’ve let hit without a condom. It just feels so right with him. You roll off of him, collapsing on your pillow as you try and catch your breath. His breathing is relaxed, and when you gaze at him, his eyes are closed, already half asleep. You attempt to get out of bed, but he grabs your arm, pulling you close to him. 

“Stay,” he kisses your shoulder. “I sleep better when you’re with me.” 

You can’t deny him when he is in this state, pulling on your heartstrings like that. 

“Fine, you win,” you say without much effort. 

Glancing at the time, it’s after 12, and fatigue finally hits you at least. Snuggling into him, you fall into a deep sleep, but not before admitting that you still love him and would do anything for him. 

The sunlight is not kind as it peers through your windows and wakes you up a little after 9. You had forgotten to draw the curtains before you fell asleep, but you didn’t have much energy left after the night you had. You woke him up after three, sucking his cock until he exploded down your throat, and he returned the favor by eating you out until you were ripe from overstimulation. You made such a mess that you had to change your sheets and listen to him teasing you about your “old lady” sheets. Whatever, you liked them.

You rolled over, and Seungcheol was already awake, scrolling through his phone. He notices you and kisses your forehead before removing your blanket and smacking your ass.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he says, leaning back against the headboard.

You chuckle as you get out of bed, grab your silk robe, and walk into the bathroom. You feel sore; last night’s shenanigans are indeed catching up with you. You just want to lay in bed and relax, but you have this nagging feeling in your stomach. You could brush it off and deal with it later, but knowing you, you will overthink, turning it into something it's not. You have to know how he feels.

Finishing up in the bathroom, you leave to find him setting orange juice on your nightstand with a couple of ibuprofen. He is only dressed in his sweats and nothing underneath, your center aching for him despite the tenderness you feel.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, reading your look. You have never had a good poker face.

You sit down on the bed, take your two pills, and wash them down with orange juice. You allow yourself to get your thoughts in order. You're unsure what to say, but you know the conversation needs to be had.

“What are we doing?” you blurt out. “I love you, and you never stopped loving me. Why can’t we just get it right?”

The silence is too deafening for your liking. It would be like you to tear the band-aid off first thing in the morning. But you hate being in the dark, not knowing what the future will hold. You’re not saying that you have to jump the broom, but you have to know if there’s any chance he feels the same way you do.

“I-I-m sorry,” you shake your head. “I shouldn’t have sprung that on you first thing in the morning. Forget I said anything.” 

You attempt to leave the room before Seungcheol catches your arm and motions for you to sit down. Grudgingly, you do, sitting on your ottoman and facing him. “You didn’t even give me a chance to respond,” he complains. “You can’t always assume how I feel is something bad. Give me a chance.” You nod, knowing deep down he is right. “You are right,” He admits. “I love you, and this song and dance we’ve been doing for years is tired. I came to you last night because I missed you and I need you. You’re the only one in my life who has always kept it straight with me, even when you get on my nerves.” You smirk at his comment, knowing it’s true. “But we have also been apart for a long time, and as much as I want to jump back into our usual routine, I recognize we have grown up a bit and need to get to know each other as our different selves.” You nod slowly, mulling over his words, unsure what to say. “I also don’t want to see anyone else,” he breathes. “You are the only person I want to see, to do this with.” He points at the sheets, and you roll your eyes. It would be like him to somehow bridge it back to sex. 

“So…” your voice trails off. “What are we then? We are more than friends but not together? I don’t understand.” “I want to be with you,” he grabs your hands. “If we fight and storm off to our houses, I’d rather it be that then we break up and don’t talk for months at a time. I hate that.” You nod, finally understanding what he is saying. He is scared of the future, just like you are. But in this life, you would rather go through it with him than anyone else. You have too much time and feelings just to throw it away. “Maybe we can try talking to someone about it this time around?” You say. “A therapist or something? I want to be with you, and maybe working through our issues to understand each other better sometimes is what we need.” “Yeah, I’m open to that.” He hugs you, embracing you tightly before leaving sweet kisses on your face. You are deathly ticklish, and he knows it. He moves his kisses elsewhere until you find yourself in your bed, his body towering over yours. He leaves you one more kiss on your lips before laying his head on your chest. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispers.

You look down and smile, caressing the dark stresses in his hair.

“Yeah. We will be.”

[cocomuffy]

Food Headcanons

Bruce Wayne: Now, it's funny to say that this guy can't take spice. I do agree with this. However, that does not mean that he does not EAT IT. Someone decides to pick something up and it's like... pepperoni pizza and even if his eyes start to water and he has to leave the room, he will eat the pepper that came with it. Come on, Jason's staring him down! He has to! (I think this thought mostly comes from the WFA episode where he out-petties a pta mom) But he likes weird little snacky dishes because he doesn't have time to sit down for a full meal. ESPECIALLY things that can be dipped. I think he he likes the fact he can control it. I have a weird feeling that he'd be obsessed with bruschetta, but that might just be a me thing.

Dick Grayson: I honestly think that this man goes to the grocery store once a week, picks whatever he thinks he can make in less than twenty five minutes, and then lives off that. But he also gives me major pasta vibes. I feel like that man likes chicken alfredo. I feel it in my soul. He also definitely seems to be the kind of person to put peppercorns on it after it's done, too.

Jason Todd: Makes me think of Sonic's diet. I imagine a lot of "American" foods like hamburgers, hotdogs, fries. Something convenient, but a little fresher than Dick. I think he likes chips in his sandwiches. Don't know why, he just gives that off. He can handle spice miraculously well, actually.

Tim Drake: Operating under Grayson rules, but honestly... He doesn't have a spice tolerance either. And unlike Bruce, he isn't going to try and be the bigger man or whatever. Nah, he'll gladly just make himself mac and cheese and take it to his room. Then, he can get back to work.

Damian Wayne: It needs to be VERY spicy, VERY sweet, or VERY sour. No in-between. He lives for extreme foods. I don't really know why this is the case. Maybe it's just me and it's because me and my sister were like that when we were kids, or maybe it's just that I think of Damian as a very literal person who wants everything to be categorized. But maybe that's just me. I don't know.

[n1ghtwr1ter]

At the end of my latest TLT reread and it’s been physically painful attempting to read the last 40+ pages of Nona. Like, the short shrift that Gideon/Kiriona gets given by the people in the story…the theoretical good guys who honestly only see her as a thing, as a means to an end with an inconvenient dead soul attached to it… It makes me want to rip my own heart out of my chest.

Nobody has cared about Gideon her whole life. Most people, in fact, if they remembered about her at all, went out of their way to tell her how much they wished she didn’t exist. In the final chapters of Gideon, she finally gets the thing she’s been desperate for her whole life: somebody telling her that they need her, they care that she exists, and they badly want her to go on doing it. This allows her to make peace with the prospect that at the ripe old age of 18, she needs to die so that that person can go on living and living and living, using the castrated remnants of her soul as fuel to do so. Not a great way to go, but at least Gideon would get to be useful to somebody, would get to be remembered for something.

And then she wakes up in the wrong body, and finds out that her sacrifice - her attempt to be useful in the most selfless way possible, in that her self will no longer exist - has been rejected. And not only that, but the person she tried to give herself to - the one who was supposed to care about her - went to extreme lengths to make completely sure that she no longer remembered about Gideon.

She literally cut Gideon out of her brain.

And now, drifting along in the worst sort of half life where she’s inhabiting her body but it’s no longer really hers, in very obvious fashion - there’s holes in it, her heart is missing, and it’s got her shitty father’s handprints all over it (not even touching how much of a violation that is), indelibly - she finally meets back up with the small group of people who could theoretically be relied upon to be glad to see her again.

But then the one who was supposed to care about her most tries to kiss her (massively OOC for Harrow), and turns out to not even be there - it’s some weird baby inhabiting her body, and doing a really shit job of it too. The rest of them won’t stop talking about how they need her to break into the Tomb - as if she was just another key, same as the ones they worked together to acquire in Canaan House, just bigger and more inconvenient - and/or how they both fucked and killed her mom, who also (surprise, surprise) wished that Gideon had never existed, but saw her as a thing that needed to be done for the good of the mission.

Ultimately, they all make it abundantly clear - Palamedes, Camilla, Pyrrha, and especially Nona, all these people who are supposed to be kind and good and right - that they would prefer she wasn’t there. That it just be her body, with no Gideon attached - at least not Gideon the way she is now, broken and rejected and miserable. They would all far have preferred that she not have her own inconvenient thoughts and feelings and desires and impulses - that she just be inanimate and let the important people, the grown ups, get things done.

They wish she didn’t exist. Same as everybody else in her life, save one, and now she’s left wondering whether Harrow really meant it at all. Because if she did, she wouldn’t have left Gideon to Kiriona’s fate.

And honestly? Really, truly? I know everybody in the fandom loves Pal and Cam and Nona and Pyrrha, but in the end I couldn’t give less of a shit about them. They are fucking side characters, and as intriguing as Nona has been from a worldbuilding standpoint, I ultimately resent having been forced to read 400+ pages of filler bullshit about fucking side characters. I am a butch, and I’m here for my sarcastic, loving, angry, vulnerable, forgiving, and yes, inconvenient sword butch. I’m here for Gideon. But Gideon has been fridged for the last two books of the series in which she is supposed to be a, if not the, main character.

And it feels like almost nobody else in the fandom feels the same way, which, fine. I’m used to that. I’m also used to being told I’m projecting; and I’m used to being told that I’m inconvenient too, in my thoughts and my opinions and the mere fact of my existence. I spent the first eighteen years of my life being told I was inconvenient. Yet another point of overidentification with Gideon.

But in case anybody still thinks that Nona proves that Gideon was an asshole all along, think about all of the above. Think about how it would make you feel to come back from not just death but from the erasure of your existence, something you chose in order to save the life of someone you loved, and be told that you’re inconvenient. Think about how you’d feel if you’d been told all your life that it would be better for everyone if you didn’t exist. And then tell me that Kiriona isn’t in the right and that I should give a rat’s ass what happens to literally anybody else.

It’s Kiriona Hours up in this House, butches. We’ve spent long enough caring about people who would prefer we weren’t around. For once in our entire lives we were told we were important; we were told we mattered; we were told we were the main character. We were going to, if not get the girl and save the world, at least get to do something real, something important, something like being the hero.

But that’s over now; we’re back to being wrong and bad and inconvenient thanks to the simple fact of our existence. So it’s time to embrace it. Let’s be a little shit. Let’s be kind of a dick. Let’s have our own agenda, let’s play our cards close to our heartless chest, let’s allow our circle of empathy to contract to ourselves and maybe one more person. That’s where I’m at right now. And I don’t see that changing anytime soon.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

au where vaggie has another little secret she didn't even know was a secret still (spoiler it's Mortality) (spoiler charlie Isn't Happy) and when she sits down with charlie for a hotel talk it goees like (TRAUMATIC EMOTIONAL SPEED RUN AAAAHAHAHA)

Vaggie: "Alright sweetie, the hotel's going good so far, one soul redeemed, minimal fire damage this week, so we should probably start planning for the next hundred years of operations."

Charlie: "YAY!!! Planning planning planning~ What's first on the list??"

Vaggie: "Start looking for a replacement manager."

Charlie: "You don't wanna keep being manager? OH- we can be CO-FOUNDERS together! WE COULD HAVE A PARTY FOR IT! And plan for the next one too- Charlie and Vaggie's centennial wow the hotel is still here celebration...!"

Vaggie: "That's sweet, but I'll be dead by then either way, so we still need to deal with the staffing shortage before then."

Charlie: "....dead... tired?"

Vaggie: "Dead as in dead. Doornail style."

Charlie: "What?"

Vaggie: "Expired. Shit, when did we last check the hotel fridge..."

Charlie: "Vaggie wait, I'm, I'm not hearing you right, what are you saying?"

Vaggie: "Heaven born don't live forever? Especially not down in hell, turns out."

Charlie: "I don't understand."

Vaggie: (chuckles) "Sweetie, thanks for ignoring my eyebags and zombie groans while getting out of bed in the morning- but my wings are already GREY, for fuck's sake."

Charlie: "Yes they're, grey. Beautiful and- aren't they supposed to be-?"

Vaggie: "And I'm pretty sure it's not just from the stress of running a business for a few months. Being hotel manager isn't that hard."

Vaggie: "....Mostly. Compared to, some things...." (sigh)

Vaggie: "Think anyone would believe that if we put it in the want ad?"

Charlie: "But-"

Vaggie: "No buts. We really need to get a head start on this."

Charlie: "....but you're a winner."

Vaggie: (SNORTS) "In my dating life, yeah. Anyway-"

Charlie: "But none of the other exorcists' wings are grey! So, so THEY aren't aging- so YOU aren't aging!!"

Vaggie: "They've got halos to protect them from the whole physically getting old thing-"

Charlie: "Halos???"

Vaggie: "-so we- they- can keep fit and ready for fighting our- THEIR whole lives, but duh we don't live forever. Lute and Adam left me here to die, not chill for all eternity."

Charlie: "Wh.. but-"

Vaggie: "Can you imagine how much heaven would've freaked if one of their actually immortal souls had gotten killed down here in hell...? But it was just one of us Adam's girls, and it was up to him to deal with it. With more murder. Bastard."

Charlie: "...."

Vaggie: "Uh.... Charlie?"

Charlie: "....your mortal?"

Vaggie: "I'm, yeah.... wait, Charlie..."

Vaggie: "...people know that about exorcists, right? You didn't... think heaven would risk putting winners in their rank and file army and send them down to hell?"

Charlie: "I thought you were a sinner."

Vaggie: "Hostia- right. I keep forgetting, they don't get old do they?"

Charlie: "Sinners don't. They get killed but they don't just. Die."

Vaggie: "I'm sorry. I thought- I really should've told you-"

Charlie: "Angels aren't supposed to die either."

Vaggie: "We did a good job proving that wrong. Exhibit A, Adam's corpse."

Charlie: "He was KILLED- it's not the same!"

Vaggie: "And angels aren't the same either. There's a lot of different kinds in creation- most of us aren't in the higher orders, there's waaaay more exorcists than seraphim."

Charlie: "But heaven is still supposed to be HEAVEN! People don't DIE in heaven! That wouldn't be Heaven! How could- how could it ever be HAPPY up there if, if- if people still left!?"

Vaggie: "Oh, sweetie... the only people who've earned a heaven like that are the winners. The rest of us are just-"

Charlie: "Just what? JUST, WHAT???"

Vaggie: "We're there to make heaven a good place for them. Keep it running smooth and safe. Mostly it's the higher ups who deal with winners personally, the rest of us stay back and stick to our jobs, try to keep some distance so no one... gets too attached... shit that sounded a lot less fucked up before I said it out loud-"

Vaggie: "Look- it's like that with hellborn too isn't it? The imps and hellhounds and-"

Charlie: "NO! YES? But this is HELL! Of course it hurts and isn't fair! You're not FROM hell it's not supposed to BE like that for you!"

Vaggie: "Or for my girlfriend."

Charlie: "I'm not the one who's dying!"

Vaggie: "You're kinda freaking-"

Charlie: "IM NOT FREAKING OUT!!"

Vaggie: "Right. I meant, you should've had more warning. I'm sorry I didn't say... I wasn't thinking that far ahead."

Charlie: "WELL I WAS! And I'm not- we're not losing that."

Vaggie: "Charlie-"

Charlie: "We're getting you your halo back."

Vaggie: "Pretty sure it's already been recycled-"

Charlie: "THEN WE'RE FINDING ONE FROM ONE OF THE DEAD EXORCISTS and you are WEARING IT until we FIX THIS."

Vaggie: "Sweetie- heaven collected all the halos from our battle-"

Charlie: "They didn't pick up all the spears and stuff, maybe they also missed-"

Vaggie: "No they wouldn't have. Halos aren't, they're not like the weapons. Heaven doesn't care if sinners kill each other with some left behind divine steel, but a halo? They store and conduct heavenly power or whatever. No one's gonna leave one of them lying around."

Charlie: "Fine. FINE- let me think-"

Vaggie: "Can we think less and focus more on you not shaking like a damn leaf first? C'mon, sit down-"

Charlie: "-the angel Carmilla killed. We'll use that one."

Vaggie: "We could use a deep breath right now."

Charlie: "It's head was missing when heaven picked up the body."

Vaggie: "Yeah? An Overlord probably has it hanging on their wall, big whoop, Charlie please slow down-"

Charlie: "If it's head was left behind then maybe it's halo was too! If we find the Overlord-"

Vaggie: "No. No more deals with Overlords."

Charlie: "I'll make as many damn deals with them as I want!"

Vaggie: "But not for ME, alright! If it's about me then you don't get to sell your fucking soul! Or bind it or whatever! You can't make me be the reason for that!"

Charlie: "Vaggie- we NEED that halo."

Vaggie: "No we don't. I don't."

Charlie: "You're dying without it!"

Vaggie: "I KNOW I am. But that's just, life!"

Charlie: "LIFE? Dying so soon isn't-!"

Vaggie: "Charlie, you're half seraphim. You mom was the original demon, your view on life expectancies is kinda skewed."

Charlie: "You said the halos let you live longer!"

Vaggie: "I said they keep us young. It's not the same thing."

Charlie: "It's still SOMETHING!"

Vaggie: "We don't even know that would help at this point, I've been in hell for years-"

Charlie: "Oh so we shouldn't even try!? Just, sit back and go 'well we haven't don't anything to stop this but I guess it was just completely unavoidable'-"

Vaggie: "It probably WON'T help. No, listen- It worked up in heaven and for short runs down here- that doesn't mean it'd have any power to draw on in hell. It's probably just a fancy looking hoop down here."

Charlie: "Then we'll get you back to heaven until we can make it work."

Vaggie: "I'm not going back to fucking heaven!"

Charlie: "AND I'M NOT LETTING YOU STAY HERE AND DIE!"

Vaggie: "You can't kick me out- this is OUR hotel, not just yours."

Charlie: "YOU- you-"

Vaggie: "We need. To calm down."

Charlie: "CALM DOWN! Every second you spend down here your body is-"

Vaggie: "Not dying anytime soon, okay? I'm fine. This whole talk has gone way too far way, way to fast. That's my fault for not thinking about all this sooner, but. Just. Take a breath. Let's just take a breath, take a break, and come back to this when we're both had a moment."

Charlie: "....."

Charlie: "Did you plan all this."

Vaggie: "What?"

Charlie: "Owning the hotel together. Making sure you couldn't be forced out of hell."

Vaggie: "That's not why we started the hotel-"

Charlie: "No, that's not what I was thinking when we started it. But were you?"

Vaggie: "Charlie... you're connecting dots that aren't there..."

Charlie: "You're here. You're here and dying and don't want to leave."

Vaggie: "I'd be dying up in heaven too."

Charlie: "But your wings wouldn't already be GREY, would they?"

Vaggie: "They'd still be an exorcist's wings, if I'd never left-"

Charlie: "Well they're not anymore and going back wouldn't change that. All it would do is help you stay alive."

Vaggie: "I don't want that life."

Charlie: "It's that or die."

Vaggie: "You're being dramatic-"

Charlie: "You've always said you liked that about me. Was that a lie too?"

Vaggie: "No."

Charlie: "Do you want to die, Vaggie?"

Vaggie: "Of course I don't- I could've just let Lute-"

Charlie: "Die, not be killed. Does it make you feel better about all the people you've killed? You'll die and join them, sooner rather than later?"

Vaggie: "......."

Vaggie: "... I want. To spend my life. With you."

Charlie: "No you don't." (voice cracking) "You can't do that when you're dead."

Vaggie: "That's not my fault."

Charlie: "Your choice though, right?"

Vaggie: "It’s not same thing-"

Charlie: "Yes it is. You want to be one who leaves."

Vaggie: "....... wouldn't you?"

Charlie: "...."

Vaggie: "..."

Charlie: "I don't.... want it to b- be like this."

Vaggie: "I know."

Charlie: "I want US! Not like this."

Vaggie: "I know, sweetie, I know... I'm so sorry-"

Charlie: "Stop it." (muffled in vaggie's hair) "You don't want this either, stop apologizing for it!"

Vaggie: "... I shouldn't have let you think, it could be different."

Charlie: "...."

Charlie: "It will be."

Vaggie: "Okay. Denial, that's a, normal step in-"

Charlie: "No- It WILL BE. I- We going to- we'll MAKE it different."

Vaggie: "I don't think we can..."

Charlie: "We will."

Vaggie: "Charlie-"

Charlie: "Damnit just trust me! If we can save a sinner's soul, then we can f-fucking save you."

Vaggie: "....."

Charlie: "Please, Vaggie. Can we try?"

Vaggie: "...it'll be a waste of time."

Charlie: "No it won't."

Vaggie: "We're already not gonna have forever together, sweetie. Why not just. Enjoy what we do have?"

Charlie: "I will! We will."

Charlie: "But we're going to have longer than one century for it."

Vaggie: "Half that, maybe..."

Charlie: "That's not the sound of trying. Vaggie. Please."

Vaggie: "...well... if you're gonna look at me like that about it..."

Charlie: "Don't joke about this."

Vaggie: "I'm not." (smile) "I just know better than to doubt Charlie Morningstar when she gets an idea into her cute, stubborn head."

Charlie: "All my head needs right now is an answer. One word. Clear. Honest."

Vaggie: "... alright. Yes. We can try."

Charlie: "Thank you." (kiss) "Thank you, thank you, thank you..."

Vaggie: "But you have to promise me. No deals. No selling souls- not for my sake, not even a little bit. Got it?"

Charlie: "Why are you so strict about this-"

Vaggie: "Because it's your soul."

Charlie: "-people make deals all the time! YOU made one with-"

Vaggie: "And it creeped me out even though it wasn't with my soul. Do you promise?"

Charlie: "This is a heaven thing isn't it?"

Vaggie: "Do you promise."

Charlie: "...."

Charlie: "I won't make, deals with anyone in hell, to save you."

Vaggie: (breathes out) "Then... we'll start by talking to Carmilla tomorrow."

Charlie: "TOMORROW!? But that-"

Vaggie: "Will give us time to figure out what we actually wanna SAY to Carmilla. She's still an Overlord, Charlie. Any info we give her she'll want to sure to keep her family safe first."

Charlie: "I know the fucking feeling..."

Vaggie: "So we're slowing this down and doing things carefully, so we do them right. Right?"

Charlie: "Right." (grumbling) "Fools rush in- blah blah BLAH."

Vaggie: "That's my girl."

Vaggie: (hesitates) (tentative smooch)

Vaggie: "Feeling better?"

Charlie: "Fine. I wish you'd stop asking ME that."

Vaggie: "Just glad you're not shaking so much anymore. Kinda scared me for a second."

Charlie: "I'm fine." (sighs) (hugs vaggie) "I didn't mean..."

Vaggie: "I didn't mean to scare you, too."

Charlie: "It's fine. You'll be okay."

Vaggie: "Mm. Already am."

Charlie: "And we're NOT looking for a replacement hotel manager."

Vaggie: "We're gonna need-"

Charlie: "NO."

Vaggie: "-okay. We'll hold off on it. We've got time."

Charlie: (holds her closer) (glares at distant light of heaven)

[radioisntdead]

Partner in crime

Alastor x gn! reader

Warnings: OOC, death, inaccurate portrayal of getting shot

Song used

You and Alastor had known each other for years, you were close childhood friends at least you thought you were,

You remember your mothers calling the two of you a couple of peas in a pod, or partners in crime,

It was funny, who would've thought the two of you would actually become partners in crime.

Maybe if you didn't have an unhealthy codependency on Alastor you wouldn't had ended up like you did.

When you're gone I feel alone again

You scrubbed away at the floor, cleaning away any remnant of the blood that was spilled that evening, Alastor had gone to bury the remains of the poor man he had slaughtered.

The voices cannot hold my hand

You would lure them in, you were good at lulling others into a false sense of security,

They keep me company at very best

and he'd kill them when they least expected it, sometimes you felt guilty but Alastor would be quick to convince you that your guilt was unnecessary, that the people whose lives the two of you stole away deserved it.

Distract me from my loneliness

They did deserve it right?

Maybe I'm just an anomaly

You continued scrubbing the floor clean, but no matter how hard you scrubbed you could never wash away the fact that someone had died there

Even my demons have their families

You wondered how their families reacted to their loved ones death, were they mournful, were they joyful? Did they not care? Did they even notice?

Truly something must be wrong with me

Would anyone notice if you died? Besides Alastor you didn't have many friends, sure you were kinda friends with Mimzy but that was only because of Alastor, and your family, well, let's not talk about that.

You really didn't have anyone but Alastor, and you were alright with that, if you had Alastor the rest of the world could burn for all you cared.

To need you as much as I do

You heard the door open, you hurriedly dropped the towel into the bucket of now cold water, grabbing another rag you wiped away the remaining liquid.

I was never meant to win

You smiled up at Alastor from the ground.

I was never meant to win

"Welcome back Alastor!"

I was never meant to win

Codependency is truly more harmful then people give it credit for.

You'd sacrifice anything, anyone just to remain by Alastor's side, just to see him smile which he did often.

Here's the reigns

You had done this who knows how many times,

Take ahold of me

Lure them in, hand over to Alastor and then clean up the aftermath while he hid the corpse.

Please don't let me go

You didn't change the routine by much, there wasn't much of a mess this time so Alastor asked that you tag along with him this time.

You do the talking

You held the lantern lighting his area as he dug a deep grave, wouldn't want the body resurfacing anytime soon right?

Sew up my mouth if I can't keep it closed

You whispered something to him before he climbed out of the hallow grave getting ready to put the poor soul he had mercilessly killed in it.

There's a dog barking right around the block

He had just gotten done burying the corpse, you were sat comfortably on the ground with the lantern in your lap, he reached out his hand to help you up.

You both froze when you heard the unmistakeable sound of dogs barking.

And a big ol' whistle blow

Alastor looked at you and you looked back at him, you quickly took his hand to pull yourself up, lantern in your free hand.

Run for it

The two of you ran, you could faintly hear the leaves crunching underneath your feet, the cold night wind stinging your face.

I'll keep em occupied for you

The barking got louder, and you tripped over a tree root, lantern falling onto the grass the candle inside falling just at the right angle to extinguish leaving you in the darkness, the only light coming from the moon and stars above.

Alastor kept running, did he know you fell? He wouldn't abandon you right?

Cause I love you, I love you so

You got up, not bothering to dust yourself off you continued running, you couldn't see Alastor.

Left me hangin at the station

You heard shouting.

Where was Alastor? Did he notice you were missing yet?

But you'll be back for me soon

You saw a glimpse of light.

I'm 'bout to die

You didn't even have time to make a noise as a gunshot was fired into your chest, you fell to the ground.

Where was Alastor? Did he get away? Or was he shot down like you were?

Yet the only thing I find i'm worried about is you

You shakily put a hand to the place where the bullet had just entered you, honestly it didn't hurt as much as you thought it would.

Something tells me you aren't coming

Your vision began to become blurry, was it the blood loss? You didn't think you'd die that quickly,

Would you get to see Alastor one last time?

Guess that I'm truly doomed

Alastor didn't notice you were gone did he? Or maybe he did? Did you really think a future cannibal, present serial killer like Alastor would come back for you? You were a liability.

I'm 'bout to die

It was funny, you knew what kind of person he was and you still held out hope that he wouldn't abandon you.

Yet the only thing I find I'm worried about is you

You still held out hope even as your blood covered the forest ground.

Tears swelled up in your eyes as you gazed up at the night sky,

You wondered if Alastor was looking up at the sky too, maybe he had gotten home already?

I'm 'bout to die

It was a good night to die, the last sight you'd see would be the star filled night sky.

Yet the thing on my mind seems to nearly be nothing but you

Alastor let out a string of French words as he turned around to go fetch you, hoping that you weren't too far behind.

I overhear your brain when it's close to mine

Branches and leaves crunched under his shoes as he sped through the woods.

Oh, I know that we're not the same

Your hope that he'd come back for you was slowly dwindling, the voices from before had disappeared, maybe they had fled, maybe they didn't know what they did, or maybe they just didn't care.

My heart's on the line

Alastor stopped by a tree for a moment to catch his breath, the only source of light was the moon and stars above.

I'm just a pawn in your game

To Alastor you were a expendable friend.

Not your partner in crime

In all reality though, To Alastor you were everything, he'd go through hell and back if you asked, he'd take down the most ruthless of people if it'd make you smile.

And you're slowly killing me

You felt tired, you wanted to close your eyes but you fought to keep them open.

You didn't want to die.

Taking your time

Alastor continued running, soon enough he stumbled upon you.

You're slowly killing me, taking your time

With red soaked clothing you laid limp on the ground.

You're slowly killing me

"[Name]? Mon étoile?"

Taking your- I was never meant to win

You smiled as you heard Alastor's voice.

You're slowly killing me

You didn't know if you were imagining it or if he really came back for you,

Maybe it was a last act of comfort given to you before you died.

Taking your- I was never meant to win

Alastor leaned down beside you, he gently put a hand on your cheek.

You're slowly killing me

You smiled at him, just barely being able to mutter an "Alastor."

And yet I don't mind You were never meant to win

You couldn't keep your eyes open anymore.

You're slowly killing me,

The last thing you saw was Alastor, and the last thing you heard was another gunshot.

But please take your time

At least the two of you would be reunited soon enough.

Good evening folks! Originally I was supposed to post the murder Valentino with JoJo Siwa playing in the background fic today but I hit a slump with the ending and plus I think may have eaten something unfortunate because I feel sick so uh, BACK TO BACK ANGST Y'ALL, ALASTOR TODAY, TV MAN TOMORROW!

[thatfrailsoul]

_

Slow down for a moment. Allow your heart to guide you, to tell you if there is really a message here for you and behind which image it hides... And whatever the answer is, feel free to listen to it or to let go. Remembering that whenever you will be ready or will have the need, your true message will find its way to you.♡

_

Your message is right after this little question from me. You don't need to stop here and let me know your opinion - but it would be really helpful and important for me if you decide to do so!♡

_

Hi!♡ This blog grows day by day, and I really want to make it as comfortable and interesting as possible for every beautiful soul that finds and joins us!♡ For this reason I would like to know your opinion regarding something... To connect to this World, to our Guardians that are always by our side and ready to help us, I use my trusted tarot cards. And I always mentioned the cards that come out for every message and pile... But thinking about it, I realized that perhaps there might be many people that enjoy the guidance and messages on this platform regardless of where or from whom they are coming from. So I wanted to ask you...

Thank you for helping me out!♡

_

It's so painful, so tiring... To look at your life right now with all its challenges, constant ups and downs that never give you the time to enjoy a little moment of peace... Never allow you to breath remaining in the now that so rarely feels safe... The same things again and again, repeating themselves through different people or situations... But still and always coming back, as if you never did all that hard work, never tried and gave your best, never deserved some reassurance and serenity for all the lessons that you've endured...

It makes your heart ache, your mind feels heavy and so confused... Creating a natural need to escape. To hope that somewhere or through someone you can find the keys to a different reality, get to know about the mysterious destiny of your soul. Something deeply different from what you are forced to live right now, but more familiar and needed to make you feel your truest self, to make you feel at the right for you place and time.

But... No matter how many challenges, how many obstacles and battles that this life puts on your shoulders, making you face them no matter if you are ready or not... It's still your life. It's still a journey, an adventure, a story that is unique to you. That you once imagined and created in your mind the same way you are doing now, trying to hide from the present moment and this life.

You see in you memories a deeper meaning, more fulfilling adventures, romantic and poetic lives. You find yourself feeling that sour and subtle mourning of the lives that seemed so much more, so much better, so more right for your soul then the one of the now. And without realising it, or perhaps contrary knowing it, you try to shut this life down, to skip it by hiding in those memories, visions and dreams... Forgetting a tiny but important detail: that those are past lives for a reason. The same one for which your heart, your own soul, decided to live once more, to experience more, to feel something more and different. Something that you never experienced and lived before.

It might be frustrating now, perhaps it is your whole life that you can remember... But it's still your life, the one that you are meant to live now, grow into, and shift adapting it to your dreams. And those are still memories, still past lives, still things that were not enough for your soul back then, not enough to make you stop from experiencing this Universe through many more lives. Exactly like this life seems not enough for you now.

You will always keep them in your heart, those experiences, those adventures and moments that you got through in all those centuries, making you be who you are now. They will always talk to you, sometimes even guide you. Those past versions of you will always speak to you and remind you of something that you now are not really able to understand... The fact that it is not this life that is too difficult, not right, somehow wrong and torturing for you, too hard to deal with and overcome, and simply not how you want or need it to be, never enough... But it's just the desire in you that you were never able to satisfy, traveling through literal lives to find that something more... It's just the excitement and wander for what else there might be out there, how else you can experience a human life. That feeling that now... Is being slightly misunderstood, confused and influenced by the hardships and obstacles in your life. The one that your own self, through space and time, is trying to explain to you, by gently reminding you that those stories, those things.... You already did them, you already lived them. And that much more that you are seeking is ahead of you and not behind.

_

You feel so stuck, so overwhelmed, so lost between all these options and possible mistakes in front of you that seem all the same. Making it impossible for you to choose the right thing... And overwhelming you with the paralysing fear of choosing the worst.

It is tiring, not being able to choose or find a solution no matter how much you look around, no matter how much these situations surround and pressure you, demanding your attention right here and now...

And seeing all these dreams, remembering those moments... Seems just a mean joke of your subconscious mind that reminds you of others, perhaps better situations, so different from what you are forced to deal with now.

But is it really? Is your own subconscious mind so mean and determined to confuse you only more? Or is it perhaps your own self that tries to remind you something... That tries to show you how many moments, situations, literal lives you were already able to live through and overcome?

Is it adding more salt to your fresh wounds, or is it trying to show you how much strength, courage and inventiveness you have hidden in your heart? Is it mocking you with the lives that you can't have, or is it trying to help you shift your perspective, making you realise how much potential has the life that you live now?

It might not feel like it at all now - but you have an incredible power, such a strong spirit within you. The ones that can transform every obstacle, every fearful moment in a mere chapter, followed by another one. It is not the end, what you are going through will not be able to destroy you. You are not consumed completely, you are not hopeless without any possibility to get out...

You are only tired. You just need a moment to stay still and recharge your energy again, thanks to the powerful and almost magical work of your mind and heart. And this... Doesn't mean that you are weak, or falling behind everyone else in your life. It is only a moment of rest that even the strongest heroes need, before overcoming amazingly every obstacle that they come across in the adventure of their life.

You got this. The same way you did in the past, in this or other lives. There is nothing that you can't overcome, resolve, manifest or experience. And those mistakes that seem so scary and dangerous now... are just ways to spice this story up. Adding more character and worth to you, the one who will one day be looked at with admiration for your strength and courage to, sometimes, mess up. Learning even more about yourself, your abilities, and the different aspects of this world and this life.

_

[orshii]

Ready To Love

Author: orshii

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x female reader

Word count: 5,1 k

Summary: Soonyoung, your best friend and soulmate, lived and breathed football until a devastating injury shattered his dreams. Unable to cope with the loss, he pushed everyone away, including you. Now, faced with the challenge of bringing back the friend you once knew, you must navigate through his pain and rediscover the bond that once held you together. Will you succeed in resurrecting the old Soonyoung, or will his journey lead him down a different path?

A/N: This is my first Seventeen ff lol. Well...yesterday as soon as I woke up, I just needed to write something with Hoshi LMAO. Cause recently he killed me, I love this hair on him sooo much. And his style?? Let's not talk about that...It's just a little drabble I needed to write out of myself, it's not a big deal tho. The story was inspired by Seventeen's Ready To Love ofc, cause I'm in love with that song istg. Okaay bye. (divider)

Life's journey resembles a roller-coaster ride, filled with unexpected twists and turns, but we shall never lose ourselves along the way, if you do, you remain alone with your toxic thoughts, that slowly eat the remaining life out of you. 

When the most important person in your life becomes the strangest person on Earth. My best friend couldn't stop the venom from spreading through his brain, poisoning it and making him believe he was nothing but a breeze of the dark autumn night. Soonyoung was a maximalist, football was his life it made him believe he was perfect, and that nothing could come his way.

But on a rainy game day, that promised a good future for him, he slipped on the wet green field and fell on the ground. Soonyoung's knee buckled beneath him as he slipped on the rain-soaked field, a sharp pain shooting through his leg, rendering him immobile amidst the downpour. Rain fell on his face in slow motion as he was screaming from the pain. That day was the end of the beginning of his career.

Since then, Soonyoung pushed everyone away from him who tried to approach him. Well, the ones he knew his whole life. His parents and me, I was his best friend. In past tense, because since the day of his injury, he did not want to talk to me. And the times when I tried to talk to him, he treated me like he didn't even know me. He looked down on me in front of his new troublemaker friends, making me feel like I was a clown trying to entertain them, whenever I tried to approach him at lunch breaks.

He has been my best friend since we were little. My parents introduced us when we were little to each other as Soonyoung's family lived opposite our house. Since that day we have been inseparable, we did everything together, even though we had different interests, him finding football as his lifesaver and me finding photography that helped me through difficult times of my life. We always adored each other's passion; he supported me whenever I wasn't sure if my photos were good enough. And I always attended his games to support and cheer for him, just be the first to congratulate him whenever they won.

Now that football wasn't there for him, he buried his cheerful past self deep down into his soul and a new careless Soonyoung came to the surface. He got into a new friend group, they were bad guys, and they always partied and got drunk whenever they had time. I couldn't recognize this Soonyoung, as neither did anyone who knew him before. He turned from a harmless hamster to a merciless tiger.

Our university’s football team had the last game of the year, everyone was excited and everyone attended to support their team. Except for one person and it was Soonyoung. The accident happened half a year ago and since Soonyoung isn't part of the team, they are bad, like really bad. They couldn't win a game; the team was falling apart without him. He was their fully trusted captain, who held the team together with his eagerness and his confident aura. Deep down I knew he was glad the team couldn't win without him, if he couldn't play then they deserved not to win.

The game was again a disaster as I watched it with my good friend, she was in the same major as me and we quickly became friends, photography connecting us. Watching the game everyone started to get bored, as winning the match was hopeless, they couldn't win, no matter how hard they tried.

They lost but that did not mean they couldn't throw a party for the sake of keeping the traditions. Everyone was invited, and it was held in a rich guy's house called Hongjoong, who was the new captain of the team, trying desperately to put the broken team's pieces together again. I kind of pitied him, because it was a very hard task breathing life to people who already lost hope. But he was known as a determined leader who would never disappoint his team, and it really seemed he was trying with his whole heart.

When we arrived at the party, my friend already got lost in the crowd as she was a real social butterfly, while I on the other side, liked the quieter places and fewer people. The living room was already full of students, most of them drunk, as they were dancing along to the loud music. Some random lights lighted the living room from time to time, for the sake of this seeming like a club. Through the sweating dancing bodies, I navigated myself to the kitchen to pour myself a drink. The furniture was all white and luxurious, I looked around as I searched for something to drink. I needed to relax a little, as recently I felt overwhelmed with everything I needed to do for the classes, project after project. I stayed up for nights, and on the days coffee was my only savior.

It was unhealthy, but Soonyoung wasn't the only one who got injured that day. Well, just theoretically, because my heart broke every time, I saw Soonyoung fall deeper into the dark and not let me in. It hurt because he was the only person in my life that understood me wholly. I tried to live without him, but it was hard. And seeing him laughing with his new friends made my heart fade into the dark.

"Woah, woah what did that whiskey do to you?" A strange voice brought me back to reality as I didn’t even realize I was pouring out the drink into a glass while I wandered off. I looked up just to meet with Hongjoong's sharp glaze, holding my wrist to stop me from pouring the drink that had already flown down to the kitchen counter.

"Oh—sorry, I got lost in my thoughts." I blushed in embarrassment, trying to find something I could clean the mess.

"It's okay, let me help you." He smiled at me and opened a cabinet to pull out a dry cloth to wipe the whiskey off.

I looked at him frowning. "How did you—", I hit my forehead as I realized this was his house.

He chuckled. "Yes, this is my house, I should know where my things are." He looked so adorable with his blonde hair falling into his eyes as he tilted his head down to clean up the mess I made. He looked so decent, as he was wearing a casual beige pullover paired with blue jeans with cuts on its knees, a lot of accessories in his ears, and on his fingers. When he was on the football field on match days, he always yelled at his team like a lion, trying to keep together his team, but now he looked nothing like that he was just a sweet guy.

"I'm so sorry again for making a mess." I ran my fingers through my hair.

"It's okay it happens." He finished the cleaning and took my glass to pour half of it into an empty glass.

He reached my glass towards me and took the other to his hands. "Let's drink then."

I chuckled at the fact of how casual he was, after all, I was just a stranger to him. "Cheers!" we clinked our glasses together and downed the whole drink in one go. The both of us were making a face when we finished the drink, from the bitter taste and the burning feeling it left behind. We both started to giggle looking at each other's faces. 

Suddenly people streamed into the kitchen as we were laughing, one familiar guy in front looking straight into my eyes. I saw nothing from my past best friend. He looked completely different. His blonde hair which almost seemed like ash was hidden beneath a black cap that was turned backward. His ears were pierced, just as his eyebrows. He was wearing a black sweater, that was oversized, hiding his well-defined body, white crosses on its sleeves, that matched with his blue jeans, with black and white crosses on it. He was the total opposite of the old Soonyoung. He was glaring at me with sharp eyes, I saw a hint of disappointment evident. But I felt more of it, I just hated him with my whole heart.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Soonyoung clapped as he came closer to us in the kitchen.

"What are you doing here? You were not invited." Hongjoong stepped in front of me, hiding me from Soonyoung, preventing me from hunting me down.

Soonyoung laughed out loudly that sounded fake. "I thought everyone was invited to this party, Captain." He leaned down to Hongjoong, to be on the same height level as him. Their height difference was barely visible from the outside, but Soonyoung looked so intimidating it made the Captain look small. But he did not let it happen. He straightened up and stepped closer to Soonyoung grabbing his collar.

"Everyone is invited. Except you." Hongjoong hissed through his teeth. "Get the fuck out of here!" He raised his voice.

Soonyoung laughed again, sounding the same as before, there was no life in it. His eyes met with mine as he looked behind Hongjoong. His eyes on me made me freeze as if almost to death, it was so intimidating I just couldn't move. I wanted to scream at him, to hit him, to beg for his old self to come back. But all I could do was look back at him with no emotions on my face. Slowly, I turned away, mirroring his detachment. I buried my emotions deep alongside his old self.

"What if I don't want to?" Soonyoung stepped even closer to Hongjoong and pushed him on the chest, Hongjoong's back hitting the fridge.

"Enough! Get the fuck out of here Soonyoung, you are not welcome here." I yelled at him suddenly, surprising him with my sudden impact.

His eyes rounded for a slight second in surprise, probably because I never called him Soonyoung, since we were kids, I always called him Hoshi, he asked me to call him like that when he found out what it meant, since he was obsessed with stars, he always adored them. For a second, I thought that's it, that is my Hoshi, he is still there. But his sharp glare was back in the blink of an eye.

"Are you in search of a new emotional support to replace me?" His question sounded full with disgust. I just couldn't believe this person was my best friend.

After half a year, he couldn't tell me anything else other than to humiliate me and I felt sick, I just never wanted to see him again.

I stepped closer to him, our faces inches apart, I tilted my head up to glare at him with zero emotions.

"There's nothing to replace." I said to him as I pushed him on the chest and fought my way through the crowd that assembled in the kitchen, people were always in for the drama.

Every year our neighborhood gathers together as we are close to the end of the year. We just celebrate the year at the end of autumn so we can say goodbye together to the year. This is the reason I am sitting in the house of our neighbor next to us, watching as the adults talk with each other, not like I am not an adult, but I just hate the shallow conversations where they ask about my life and what I want to do in the future. They had nothing to do with my life then why did they ask the same questions every year?

In the past, it was fun. At least Hoshi made it fun, as we always hid in the corners to judge the people and gossip about them. Now, I was sitting here all day on the couch with a glass of fine wine in my hand, and judging the people around me alone. I didn't see Hoshi all day, but I knew he was here somewhere hiding in the corners or who knows where. His parents were here and I knew they made him come along not accepting no as an answer, they were very strict if I may say.

The sun was already down and I felt so bored all day, I couldn't wait for the moment when they were distracted enough so I could slip out to be free. And that moment came quickly as I saw my parents were talking with a man and I quickly slipped outside through the backdoor.

When I closed the door and turned around, I froze. Hoshi was sitting on the top of the stairs leaning forward on his knees a glass of wine in his hands. He was staring up at the sky looking for the stars that were hidden between the dark clouds. I hesitated, I just wanted to get out of there, but seeing Hoshi like this…He seemed so—vulnerable in this moment and I kind of wanted to take advantage of it.

So, I slowly approached him and sat next to him on the cold stairs. As he felt my presence, he didn't even look at me, he just looked down at the glass in his hands, his features seemed full of regret and shame. I didn't want to be the first to say something. I tried to imply that I was there if he wanted to tell me something because I really deserved that. I took him in, while he was deep in his thoughts, he was wearing the same black cap turned backward, his ashy hair that grew down to his nape lolling out from the cap. He was dressed up in full black clothes, a sweater with black writings on its chest, and its sleeves decorated with white flowers, paired with black oversized pants and black sneakers. A cross was hanging from his neck that swung between him and the glass he was holding.

"Why are you here?" He breaks the silence, his voice unstable.

"Just wanted to escape from inside, it's boring." I hated him, but seeing him like this I couldn't be mean to him.

Hoshi just nodded still analyzing the glass in his hands.

"And you?" I asked looking at his sharp side profile, his cheekbones puffy like a hamster.

He shrugged. "My parents won't let me go home and it's boring without—" He stopped when he realized what he was about to say. He seemed angry at himself at that as I was observing him. He was drunk and, in this state, it felt like the old Hoshi was screaming at this person next to me to let him out of the prison he made. I knew my Hoshi was still there I just needed to somehow fight with this poisoned Hoshi.

"You know this shit is very boring without you. There's no one I could gossip with about Uncle Chanyeol's third wife." I said what he didn't finish and tried to lessen the sour mood a bit.

At that, he snapped his head up to look at me with surprised eyes. There he was, the Hoshi I loved so much. Many emotions went through his face as he took me in, finally looking into my eyes, finally seeing me after half a year.

"Well, the second was much uglier not gonna lie." He said looking back at the glass as he downed it until the last drops.

I hummed. "Not to be a bad person but he looks like a witch, who would curse you the second you stay alone with her."

And Hoshi laughed out wholeheartedly, that made my heart whole again. The sound of his laughter puzzled the pieces of my heart together. It made me realize how important he was in my life, and how much of an influence he was in my life. Everything he did affected me, even if it was good or bad, I felt the same way as him. I felt like he was my soulmate and if he was hurt I was hurt as well. It made me realize that I loved him so much not just as my best friend but as my soulmate. But after he pushed me, it faded. And I hoped it'd be gone in seconds, but as I heard him laugh again, made me realize it was never going to fade.

I smiled, hearing him laugh sincerely again, knowing it wasn't fake. Then as he realized what he was doing, his laughter faded into a smile and his smile faded into a thin line.

"You shouldn't speak to me." The sour Hoshi from moments ago had returned.

"Yeah…I shouldn't." I looked down at my hands fiddling with my rings taking in the sour emotions Hoshi was feeling.

"You know…" He broke the silence that fell on us, looking up at the sky. "…I always wanted to be perfect, and I truly believed I was, just until…" He looked down at his hands again as he tried to hold his tears back. I just listened to him, letting him speak whatever he wanted out of his heart.

"I'm so tired, I'm so tired of pretending everything is fine, Y/N." He buried his face into his hands, sobbing.

Tears started to appear immediately in my eyes seeing him like this. I scooted closer to him and hugged him, pulling him to my chest as he was still sobbing. "It fucked up everything— a-and I don't know what to do with my life anymore." He mumbled into the crock of my neck, wetting it with sour tears that made my heart break again.

"I know, I know it's hard Hoshi." I caressed his back up and down as I leaned my head on top of his, staring into the dark and chilly night. "There's life outside of football too. You can't just push away everyone you love, because some shit happened to your life. It's not fair and you know that."

He was quiet for a few moments, to take my words in and slowly lifted his head to look into my eyes. His eyes were red and puffy, his eyes barely visible, as the tears were still flowing down his puffy cheekbone, his lips trembling a little from the flow of emotions. "I-I know I fucked up and you have no idea how much I regret it. Pushing away my real friends and my parents. But mostly you, Y/N." One tear flew down his face again.

I slowly reached my hand towards his cheeks and cupped it just to wipe the sour tears away from his face. "I'm sorry for pushing you away…I really miss you, you being by my side all the time…" His eyes still stared deeply into mine.

I sighed, detaching my hands from his face, and letting it fall onto my lap. "I miss you too, Hoshi. But…you really treated me like shit, it hurt you know." I tried to blink away the tears that tried to escape.

"I know, I know, I was such an asshole, please forgive me.” He turned towards me.  “You really deserve better than that…" He said reaching for my hands, but along the way, he knocked over the glass that was between us. It made me realize he was just drunk and who knows tomorrow he is going to be the asshole Hoshi again.

I smiled at him sadly. "Go home Hoshi and sleep." I stood up and left him there without waiting for an answer.

Days later, it was already late at night when my phone rang just as I arrived home and parked my car, after a tiring day, as I was at classes all day and learning for the exams at the library. I sighed as I turned the engine off to pick up my phone, where the name of Hoshi's mother showed. I frowned as I picked it up.

"Y/N, darling, I'm glad you picked it up." Her voice seemed hurried and full of concern.

"Hi, what happened?" I asked her, leaving the formalities behind ages ago, as she treated me like I was her other daughter.

"I just wanted to ask, if you saw Hoshi today. We've been looking for him all day, but his phone is off and we don't know where he is." I heard as her voice got a little weaker.

"I saw him last night, but that's all, I'm sorry," I said looking down at my hands, running through the maze of my thoughts.

"Oh, okay, maybe it's better if I call the police, I am very concerned." Her voice deepened as she was thinking. "Anyways, thank you Y/N, I hope you are okay, we miss you." She wanted to hang up but I stopped her.

"Wait—, I might— I might know where he is, give me an hour and I'll find him," I said a little hurriedly as a place appeared in my head.

"Okay, thank you so much, Y/N." She seemed a little relieved at that.

I hung up the phone and quickly started the engine of my car, just to drive through the town to a place no one would search for Hoshi. And it was the football field. It sounds ridiculous but, why would anyone search for him there? When he didn’t step on that field since his injury happened?

When I arrived there, I still had doubts about him being at the field. But all my doubts disappeared when I saw him on the barely lit field, the moon above him shining at his presence. I approached the fence that separated us and just observed him as he was facing me, but he couldn't see me as the darkness hugged me around.

He was standing in the middle of the field the ball in his hands; he was wearing black shorts and a beige sweater on top the black cap never leaving his head. He squeezed it like he wanted to drown it like it could've helped make his misery better. Then he lifted his right hand in the air and threw the ball into the chilly air, his first intuition was to run after the ball, and he tried, but his knees buckled and he fell on the ground. My heart broke at the image of him breaking on the field of his dreams, I couldn't watch him suffer anymore. I stepped on the field slowly; he was still lying down with his face down and his shoulders were shaking. I walked towards the ball and took it in my hands. Then I walked towards him soundlessly.

"Hey!" I yelled at him while I was walking towards him. He snapped his head up at the sound. "Catch the ball!" I said not leaving him to think as I threw the ball towards him.

He quickly stood up, wincing from the pain, that his still unhealed, injury caused, and caught the ball.

"What are you doing here?" He tried to turn away from me, so I wouldn't see his face that screamed he was crying.

"The question is mine." I folded my arms together frowning at him.

He shrugged. "Needed to clear my head." He looked down at the ball and picked at some strings on it, not daring to look into my eyes.

"Your family is searching for you."

"I know." He spoke. "But I just wanted to get away from home."

"Why?"

"Because they want to control my life, and I can't stand it anymore." He turned away from me, looking up at the sky.

"Well, at least they are doing it, instead of you." I said stepping closer to him.

He suddenly threw the ball to the green grass with a wave of anger the ball almost bounced back to his hands.

"Hoshi, what is going on with you? It's not you." I said trying to stay calm.

"Well, you have to live with this, because this is me." He yelled at me turning towards me and pointing at himself.

My heart started to race, he kind of scared me. "No, it isn’t you, you changed." My voice got quieter as I stared down at the ground. Now I was the one not daring to look into his eyes.

"People change, and then what?" He lifted his arms in the air frowning.

"You act ridiculous, you know? You lost football and now you think you are a nobody?" I scoffed at him in disbelief.

"Football was the only thing that made me feel alive." He lifted his hands and turned around showing the field. "You can't fucking understand what am I going through." He pointed at me raising his voice.

I scoffed. "No, I really can't understand Hoshi." I looked deep into his eyes. "But I really tried to be by your side after your injury but you just threw me away just like that fucking ball.

 “I pointed at the ball in his hands. "I get it, I get that football was your life, but life sometimes sucks and you have to live with it, it can't be perfect…" My voice cracked as the emotions flew through me. "…nothing can be perfect Hoshi, neither can you…"

Tears started to appear in my eyes and I turned around. "You are on your own now." As soon as I turned tears flew down my face, and my heart broke into a million pieces again, but it was worse than everything beforehand because hope left my soul as well leaving nothing behind but dust.

I was near the fence where the exit was when I heard him.

"Y/N, wait!" He yelled after me, but I just closed him out.

All of a sudden all I could feel was that I was being pushed against the fence, which made a loud noise, as it echoed around us like bird chirping. His face was close to mine, his hands on both sides of my waist as he pushed me against the fence.

"Please listen to me." His voice was barely a whisper, that I felt on my lips.

I didn't say anything as I was too stunned being this close to him, his dark peachy scent hugged me around, making me feel woozy.

"I'm confused, okay?" His hands left my waist and he supported himself on the fence on both sides of my head. "It's…" He sighed and took off his cap with his right hand to run his fingers through his silver hair. This hair color fitted him so well, he changed but it was still him. He threw his cap on the ground now his hair falling into his eyes as he looked at me. "It's not just about football. It's about you Y/N."

My heart started to race quickly as I just looked at him with wide eyes.

He leaned closer. "The reason I pushed you away was because I wanted to be more than friends. And I knew you didn't want that." He leaned his forehead against mine. “I couldn't be friends with you anymore so I pushed you away before I fell in love with you more." His voice was low as he closed his eyes. "I was not ready for love, not when I knew you weren't as well." He whispered it and I barely could hear what he said.

"But," he continued not letting me say a word. "I realized I can’t live without you, because you are my escape from this fucked-up world and you are my purpose on this earth. I know that my life won't suck if you are by my side and that with your help, I can put my life together again." His voice crackled as tears formed in his eyes when he opened them again.

I was stunned to speak; I never could've imagined that Hoshi was thinking of me like that. But at the same, I was waiting for this moment my whole life.

"You are so stupid, Hoshi," I said the first thing that came to my mind after I gathered my thoughts. I reached my hands towards his swollen face and cupped it.

"I was in love with you my whole life," I said to him honestly.

His barely visible eyes rounded his mouth fell open, he looked so adorable. "Are you joking?"

"No, I'm not. Well, I'm sure it wasn't that deep when we were kids, but…since we grew up and started university together I fell in love with you deeper as the days passed Hoshi, and I couldn't help it." I looked down on the ground feeling shy as I just put my heart out in front of him. "My heart broke when you pushed me away…"

He slowly reached his hands towards my waist, squeezing it reassuringly, and leaned his forehead against mine. "I am so sorry, Y/n, for being so stupid, I won't ever forgive myself for treating you like that." He whispered onto my lips, his cold breath against mine, our cold breaths mixed just to melt into each other.

"You deserve the whole world, Y/N. And please let me give you the world, forgive me." He whispered the last few words, coming out like forgotten promises.

I smiled at him as if my eyes were sparkling from the happiness I felt. "Are you ready for love?"

He smiled fondly and looked at me like I was his whole world. "I'm ready for love. Can we stay together forever? I will give—"

"Just kiss me already you idiot." I interrupted him impatiently.

He chuckled and cupped my face, just to push me more into the fence that hurt my back, but not until one of his hands reached behind my back to pull me off the fence, body flesh against his. My lips curved into a sincere smile. I couldn't believe my soulmate had just confessed to me and promised me the world.

"You give me purpose." He whispered onto my lips like sweet promises and closed the distance between our parted lips. When his lisp met mine, the world stopped spinning, everything slowed down, the clocks stopped ticking, and the rivers stopped flowing. Everything stopped. It was just the two of us in this world, as he promised me the world, and with this kiss, he gave it to me. His lips moved against mine slowly, passionately, like he wanted to carve this moment into the history books, where two best friends went through ups and downs just like a roller-coaster, so in the end, they were finally ready to love each other wholeheartedly, staying together forever.

*Ateez masterlist*

[brodieland]

.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 Royal Rivalries !! ´ˎ˗

Luke Castellan x Fem!Zeus!Reader Synopsis: wedding dress try ons go... wrong? Tag(s): ROYAL AU, cursing, smut I fear.., masturbation, fingering, fem!receiving oral Word Count: 2805

"Finally you're back," you groaned as you pulled your sister in a soul crushing hug. "It's been treacherous here without you."

"I know I know, I'm beautiful and amazing, and its hard to live with me as your amazing-"

"Buffer," you cut in. "Your an amazing sister, but an even better buffer between me and father."

"Well, I wouldn't have put it like that but if you insist."

"Come here," you grabbed Thalia by the wrist and ignored her questioning you on where you were taking her. Once you reached your room, you rushed Thalia in, shutting the doors, and running to your bed and screaming into your pillows.

"Feels like we've been here before.." she joked, referring to the night you got engaged as you screamed in anger into your pillows like you were just now.

You looked up at her and glared. "I get married in three days, and your having a laugh at my expense?"

"Three days," she exclaimed, with her eyes wide as she held up three fingers. "Like this many days??"

"Yes, I haven't even gotten the chance to pick a dress," you complained. "Not even a better husband!!"

Thalia chuckled at your annoyance. "Yeah, I knew it. Living out, fighting and hunting, is definitely what I was made for."

"Yeah, good for you," you slow clapped. You and your sister continued to catch up before Margaret, your favorite servant, walked in.

"Princess Y/N, your father is requesting your presence in the dressing chambers."

"Oh okay, I'll be going now," you nodded. "Please, come with me."

You dragged your sister with you as you made your way to the dressing chambers. Normally you liked it there, trying on new clothes, the beautifully dresses and jewelry, it was just so much fun. Now your father was calling you there, and right now you two weren't feeling very friendly with one another. He didn't like hearing his lowly servants gossiping about how the king's daughter had a boy in her room while he was away. Not like anything really happened though!!!

You opened the door and both you and Thali's eyes widen as you peered inside the room. "That's a lot of white," she commented.

"You can say that again," you agreed. There were so. Many. Wedding dresses. You and Thalia quickly picked your jaws off the floor as Margaret came back into the room to assist you with the dresses.

You tried on all types of dresses as Thalia helped you cycle through them. It was very 'Say Yes to the Dress' style. She sat in the couch in front of you as you put on every style dress under the sun. From straps to strapless, from lace to sparkles, from modest to backless, it was here. After a while, Margaret left and it was just the two of you.

"How are there still more dresses," you groaned as you sat down on the mini podium you were currently standing on. "It been well over an hour for sure."

"Can't you just pick one, there's no way you haven't liked any of the ones you've tried on," Thalia complained.

"I need to make sure its a perfect dress, you only get married once y'know."

"Well-"

"Father will only let me get married once," you corrected. "Sorry, is that more clear for you?"

You both laughed as you heard the door open behind you. Turning around, a familiar curly head popped through the door. "Someone looks nice, this for me?"

"Excuse me, but it's bad luck for the fiancé to see the wedding dress before the bride walks down the aisle," you quickly rolled your eyes as Luke walked into the room.

"Wow, didn't think you wished good luck on our marriage, I feel honored," he just chuckled at his joke while you shot a serious look to Thalia. One that read, 'I think I'm going to kill this man.'

"Your impossible."

"You're one to talk, my sweet princess," You groaned and turned around, facing the mirror, with your back to Luke. "Not a very modest dress, hm? Has father dearest seen this one?"

"Not a single one. I had a thought of finding the skimpiest dress in the room to make him angry, though I realized you might find it a little too appealing," you sighed. "I truly just can't win, can I?"

Luke chuckled as you he stood behind you in the mirror. Shortly, Margaret came into the room. "Miss Thalia, your hunters have requested your presence elsewhere."

She just nodded as she walked out. She turned back before leaving, shooting you a look saying she was sorry as you glared at her. "What? Can't be in a room alone with me?"

"I'd rather you were home, but I suppose you can stay," you looked at him through the mirror. "You're already here."

The dress was kind of heavy under you, so you shot a small gust of wind to help you float to your feet. "Always feel the need to show off?"

"If it makes you feel inferior to me? Always," you smiled. "Anyways I didn't think you'd be back till the wedding, my father was furious."

"As much as he wants to, he can't stop me from seeing my fiancé."

"Wish I could stop you, though alas I seem powerless," you shook your head and fanned your face. Your dress was backless, but you still had sleeves, and the ac seemed not to reach the room.

"Sweating there, princess?"

"Sweltering," Luke walked over to you, standing behind you as he had his hands on your waist while he examined your dress. "No funny business, Castellan."

He placed his head on your shoulder, looking into your eyes through the mirror as he unzipped the side of your dress. "Wouldn't dream of it."

He helped slide the sleeves off your sticky skin and dropped them like they were nothing. You were feeling hot as you held the dress over your chest. "C'mon princess, nothing I haven't seen before."

You turned around, dress still in your hands. "Oh fuck you."

"Fuck who," he leaned closer into your face, and you just grunted. Disregarding the dress in your hands, you grabbed Luke by the collar and smashed his face onto yours.

"You, fuck you," you breathed out before putting your lips back on his. You felt him smirking as he slightly bite into your bottom lip, you whimpered at the feeling and he slid his tongue in your mouth, tangling it with yours.

He had one hand tangled with your hair, while the other one was gripping onto the side of your hip so hard, that if the dress wasn't there then he might've drawn blood. As he slid his hands down right beneath your ass, you took the chance to jump into his arms. Moving your arms around his neck, you arched and moved even closer to Luke as you both deepened the kiss.

You were tangling your fingers through Luke's hair as he started walking forward, probably toward the couch where Thalia was just sitting to help you sort through dresses. Poor couch. Of course you knew where this was leading, but you weren't going to make this easy for Luke.

As he set you down on the couch, you planted your foot into his chest and slowly extended your leg, pushing him away. "Slow your roll Castellan."

You smiled smugly while Luke just stared at you, with a wild and hungry look in his eyes. "What?"

"Well, I have more dresses to try on of course," you laughed as you held your dress back up and gloated from your seat. "And, I don't know if I've said it but, remember, you can't see my dress before the wedding. Bad luck."

"Your going to kill me one of these days."

"And I'll wear a big smile at the funeral," he continued to look at you, in your eyes, as you both stared at each other while panting. He was a really good kisser, and while the thought made you grimace at his obvious practice, you still more.

Luke beat you to it when he bent back down, one hand gripping your jaw while the other gripped the couch behind you, and kissed you again. He slid his knee between your legs, as far as it could go, causing you to close your legs and start squirming for some friction. Luke started sliding you downward on the couch, now on top of you. He kept his knee between your legs while his other foot stayed planted on the floor, keeping him steady.

Luke started kissing down your neck, and basically tried ripping the rest of your dress off, which for someone as muscly as him, light work. As the cold air hit your chest, you felt goosebumps rise all over you.

Luke left a trail of sloppy kisses while you let out breathy moan, "Fuck, Luke," after breathy moan. "Oh my fuckk."

"Like that," he smirked against your skin, sounding as cocky as ever.

"Shut," you felt him start sucking on spots on your collarbone. "Up."

"Oh really," he started moving lower, down to your breasts. "Here I am makin you feel good," he kept planting wet kisses and sucking small spots on your skin in between his words. "And your there telling me to shut up."

You sat up, leaning on your elbows. "Do something about it."

You stared at him through your eyelashes as he ran his fingers down your chest, your breathing and heart started accelerating at his actions, "Then I will."

He slid his thumbs over your nipples as he pinched down, causing you to bite back a whine. Luke just laughed at your reaction while he sat and pulled you onto his lap. You captured his mouth back on yours and continued to share sloppy kisses, both your saliva drowning each other while you were grinding back and forth on his lap.

You felt him groan against your lips and you smirked as you felt him poke your inner thigh, "I knew you were happy to see me, but this is blasphemy."

"You think you're funny, don't you," he questioned as he started slowly sliding his hand under your dress, and against your skin. "Hm?"

"Hilarious," you breathed out. His hands slowly made it to your underwear, sliding his two fingers along your clothed cunt, causing your breathe to hitch.

"Hilarious, huh," he played with the hem of your panties. "Here's something really hilarious."

He moved your panties to the side, moving his fingers along your wet pussy, before sliding a finger in, "fuckk."

You let out quiet moans as he slid and curled his finger inside of you. He smiled at your reaction, sliding in a second finger. You shut your eyes and gripped onto Luke's shoulders as he kept doing curling and scissoring motions. Your moans slowly got louder as you laid your head down on his shoulder, grinding more on his fingers.

"Never took you for desperate, princess," he whispered in your ear. "Riding my fingers? Hm.."

"Luke," you wanted to sound assertive, but you couldn't help but whine out his name. You ignored his laughter and attacked his neck the way he did to you, unbuttoning his top buttons and leaving dark marks along his collarbone. After a few moments pass, he pulls your hair, pulling you back into a searing kiss. You felt a knot building in your stomach, knowing you were getting close, when you quickly felt a cold emptiness, and your panties shifting back in there place. "What the hell?"

Again with the whining, but to be fair, you couldn't help it. You were just soo close! "This is me, um, what were your words? 'Doing something about it?'"

You were breathing heavy as you pushed his chest back into the couch, "Really?"

"If you want me that bad, just say it," he teased. Something that always aggravated you about him was definitely his over confidence, and you knew as a fact you weren't gonna beg for him.

"I don't think I will," you chuckled as you slid off him. He looked at you confused, then raised his eyebrows as you kicked off the rest of your dress onto the floor. "You think so highly of your self, never understood why."

Before he could come back with an equally snarky comment, he watched as you laid back, slowly moving your hands inside the front of your pretty pink lace panties, ones he hadn't gotten to actually see till now, and started rubbing circles on yourself. Luke felt the saliva in his mouth run dry at the filthy sight, but the worst part? You were still moaning his name.

"Oh Lukeee." "Fuckkk." "Mmmh, I feel soo gooodd," he had enough watching you, the way you bit your lip, the way you arched your back, the way you kept one tit cupped in your free hand, and the way you did it all without breaking eye contact.

Luke creeped back over, grabbing your hand out from your panties and quickly pulling them down. You started feeling a little nervous, since now he got a full view. Yeah, you seemed confident and hot just a second ago, but you were still a virgin with no experience, LOL!

This time, he sat himself on the floor in front of you, moving your body to face him, eye level with your cunt, staring wide eyed and licking his lips. You looked as him as lick straight up your slit, you threw your head back and moaned, not even bothering to hold it back anymore.

"No idea what you do to me," he said against you, causing you to shiver as he went back to sucking on your clit. You found your fingers pulling at his curls, moving him in closer, as you tightened your legs around his head.

"Just like that, fuck," you'd been swearing like a sailor today, but that wasn't your problem. Luke continued eating you like he was a man starved, until he again added his two fingers, causing you to press yourself even closer to his face. The poor boy probably couldn't breathe, but he was completely fine to be swallowed by you. Minutes keep passing as you feel the same knot from earlier keep building in your stomach. "Please don't stop again, I'm so close."

Just as you finished your sentence, Luke curled his fingers for the last time as you felt yourself come undone on him, smearing his face with, well, you!!

You let out a loud sigh as you laid back on the couch, falling to your side as you caught your breathe. Luke sat on the floor licking his lips and wiping his jaw. He watched as you stretched out on the couch, butt naked while your inner thighs dripped.

"Here, lemme just.." he trailed off as he wiped you down with your discarded wedding dress.

You chuckled, "it's ruined now. What if I liked that one?"

"No you didn't, wasn't you."

You sat back up, hands covering your chest. "You think so? Then what is me?"

Luke passed you your underwear as he stood up, looking through the racks of dresses. After a few minutes, he pulled one out. "Isn't this the designer you like?"

"Hm, yeah, Vivienne Westwood, I love her clothes," you smiled, grabbed the dress from the floor and walking over. "I got to see one of her shows before she died, it was beautiful."

"Whats with the..," Luke gestured over to you and the way you wrapped the dress around your upper half.

"Its cold, you keep catching me mostly naked these days you know."

"Yeah yeah," he chuckled. "Here, this one."

You grabbed the dress, "Camille, this one's my favorite."

"I know you better than you think I do," he smiled as he guided you back to the podium in front of the mirrors. Luke slid up the dress, getting whatever buttons and zippers resided in the back. He stood aside, letting you stand alone in the mirror. You softly smiled as you slowly spun, getting every angle of the dress.

"It's beautiful, gods I hate it when your right."

"Oh I'm sure," you laughed as you heard the door open behind you, Thalia was back. "Why hello Ms. Thalia."

"Luke," she greeted. "Wow, Y/N that ones beautiful."

"I know, that's what I said," you smiled at the compliment, "this is going to be my dress."

"Bad luck for him to see the dress you know."

"Why Thalia, for I'm the one who picked the dress," he taunted.

"Not too much now, Castellan."

Thalia just watched as the two of you went back and forth, definitely remembering to ask you later what had happened while she was gone.

[centrally-unplanned]

I'ma explain the Stardew Valley fascism thing because I am bored and sometimes explaining obvious things is good for your brain. So the idea here is that "the simple country life" of farming, hanging out your small town neighbors, building an elaborate produce gift-based harem, and existing in perpetual tranquility with them is very appealing to fascist/reactionary aesthetics. Cosmopolitan urbanity is a disease, a blight upon society, sucking the spirit of the yeoman people out of their souls and blending it with degenerate races/liberals until they are too weak and dependent to fight the forces of globalism and they cope by being gay living in the pod. If the people could just return to the land, work by the sweat of their brow, they would have beautiful blond wives and their spirit/t-levels would soar to the heights God intended for us. Or whatever. So Stardew Valley is an indulgence of that fantasy by letting you reject urbanism, embrace tradition, and thus it has fascist aesthetics.

The problem here is A: what the fuck you are talking about, and also B: misunderstanding cause & effect. The appeal of farm life does not cause a fear of rootless jews queering your children outside of the most banal ways, the fears come first, the farming life is stapled on. Which you know, because everybody loves the farm life as a fantasy! Not in practice, obviously, which is why its a video game and not an agribusiness contract. But we all love the fantasy of a beautiful farm in the countryside, being one with the earth and baking rustic dinners in bronze kitchenware on hand-carved wooden tables. Since 90% of people don't take that fantasy and blame its lack of actualization in their lives on filthy immigrants, its probably not the causal factor in these things! People liking trees is not problematic because it has (virtually) no political implications without a ton of other context. Most people have more than one fantasy after all, often contradictory ones.

But if you are a political radical doing propaganda on the internet, its far more appealing to the audience (which includes yourself) if your vision is all-in, has the carrots and the sticks. For some the insane rush of a totalitarian world order wiping clean the slate of human society and re-ordering it according to your own mercurial whims is enough regardless of why, but for some (pathetic losers ofc) out there they need a little more juice, something concrete. So its married to reactionary aesthetics for the full picture, that this political order will deliver the farm life unto you. That works because, again "everybody" likes the farm life, that is way of broadening the appeal. But its neither the problem with the vision nor the cause of the political ideology. Some people who authentically like the farm life become farmers, you can just do that. Most don't, because they just wanna play a video game.

To clarify, what I am not saying is that the "reactionary aesthetics" are irrelevant and could be swapped out. My point is that instead they are universal. They are normally built out of uncontestably positive things. Those blond tradwives are hotties! Wheat is pretty and tastes good! You can't remove that from culture outside of being a fascist yourself. None of that makes fascism what it is, its all the other stuff. And when people make media out to be fascist, they are almost always bringing in from the outside 99% of the secret sauce. It is case by case of course, there is authentically authoritarian media out there. But in practice, 90%+ of these accusations are "Stardew Valley is fascist" level. Its a very silly debate to get drawn into.

[johnwickb1tsch]

break me, softly

When your ex Jack Traven pays you a late night visit after a tough case, you can’t turn him away. Jack Traven x Fem!Reader ficlet

warnings: smut. angst. brief mention of hostage situation/death. slight inebriation. fluff. ❤❤❤

For @treedaddymcpuffpuff who whispered in my ear "hey you should watch Speed" and sent me down this rabbit hole (i luv u girl, you're our Keanuverse Guide & Tastemaker!) 😘😘😘 and @scarlettspectra who requested some fluff fic 😘😘😘.

It’s late at night, when you hear the soft knock on your apartment door.  Usually, you wouldn’t dream of answering such a thing–a woman living alone, in this city? You’re not looking to get murdered. But something, some feeling from deep in your gut, pulls you out of bed. You walk on bare feet in just your nightie and look through the peephole. Nothing. 

You know it’s probably a bad idea, but that uneasiness nags at you still. Not that you’re in danger. That someone needs you. You have a sense about that, after so many years as a nurse. Or maybe, you just always have. 

You undo the deadbolts and stick your head out, to see the tall figure of a man retreating down the hall. 

You would know that backside anywhere. Those broad shoulders, that trim waist, those long legs…and by the way he’s walking, you can tell he’s a little drunk. 

“Jack?”

He freezes in his tracks, clearly debating with himself. Probably wondering what the fuck he’s doing here, and if you’ll tell him to go to hell, after the way he pushed you away three months ago after dating for two whole years.

He turns to face you slowly. You can say a lot of things about Officer Jack Traven–but never that he’s a coward. 

“Hey, y/n.” 

It’s the first time you’ve seen him, since the day he shattered your world when he broke things off with you. It feels about precisely like being punched in the gut. He’s still so handsome it hurts; those soulful dark eyes, cheekbones to make a fashion model weep, a manly-man’s jawline softened by such a full, sweet mouth. Immediately, upon looking at that face you still love so well, you know something is wrong. 

“Are you ok?”

He opens his mouth to answer, then closes it. Takes a deep breath, tries again. Nothing. It’s as good as a five page report, to you. To you, who knows his every gesture, his every tell. For all it’s worth, now. 

You already knew, in the back of your mind, that you were still in love with this man. It was like a fine buzzing in your heart you’d managed to push into the background of your day to day. But seeing him again makes it all surge up with a vengeance. You know that being near him again will be like feeding your heart through a paper shredder–slowly. You also know that something terrible must have happened at his work, for him to show up here like this, and so you open the door wider, laying your heart on the sacrificial altar, the way you always do.

“Come on,” you say gently, waving him in. “I’ll take care of you.”

He gives so much of himself, always trying to help everyone else in this big, mean, city. You know he forgets to leave a little fuel in the tank for himself. It’s maybe something the two of you have in common. 

You watch as he fights a war within himself, teetering on the balls of his feet, undecided between staying or leaving. In the end, he takes a step towards you, then another. You try not to read too much into that. He’s just here because he’s drunk and feeling vulnerable. It doesn’t really have anything to do with you. 

You’re not really sure how this will go. Probably he’ll just come sit on your couch with a beer–you still have his favorite in the fridge–and talk a little. Not about what’s actually bothering him. No, heaven forbid. But circular small talk, to get his mind off the bad thing. It’s something you’ve done a thousand times before.

And yet, when you are standing toe to toe, and he has to crane his neck to look down at you–there’s a dark fire in his eyes, and with a little thrill you feel the urge to flee before his big hands engulf the sides of your face, and his mouth is on yours. 

Oh. That’s what you’re doing.

You can’t say you forgot what it’s like to kiss Jack Traven–but maybe the intensity of the memory had faded a little, if for anything out of pure self defense. How could a woman keep her sanity, if she remembered how good he was, if she knew she’d never taste him again? You stand on tiptoe to throw your arms around his neck as he devours you, and he easily picks you up with an arm around your waist, walking the two of you back into your apartment and slamming the door shut with his booted heel.

This. This had never been a problem for the two of you. Passion. It was everything else that got in the way. Most of all, his dangerous job, which though it wore on you, you had never complained about. But he’d seen the way you worried about him, the way it absolutely chewed on your nerves when there was a situation on the news and you didn’t know if he would be coming home that night. You’d been willing to weather that storm for him, but the guilt of demanding that of you ate at his conscience. 

He’d broken things off with you, in your own hospital, after he’d taken a bullet in the chest and you didn’t leave his side or really even sleep until he came to. I can’t ask you to keep doing this for me. You deserve better. 

You’d protested, of course, but he’d made up his mind. 

Until now, apparently, where he is walking you backwards towards your bedroom, half carrying you in the ardor of his embrace. You recognize this need for life-affirming intimacy. You’d gotten to know it well, over the years, and you surrender to the storm, letting him take what he needs. Letting him fist the fabric of your cotton nightie in his big hands, drawing it up over your head before falling on you again, pushing your panties down the curves of your bottom and your thighs. 

You always marveled that despite his strength and the things he knows how to do with those hands, he never ever hurt you, not even when he was like this, desperate for your softness, frantic to lose himself inside the momentary bliss your body could bring. He barely has the patience to let you pull off his white t-shirt, or to enjoy the swathes of toned flesh beneath. His belt is flung forgotten to the floor from the moment you pull it from its loops and he picks you up by your thighs, walking you the rest of the way to the bed. Boots are kicked away as his mouth is attached to yours, pants and boxers shed with a sharp push. 

You might have been embarrassed, by how ready you are for him, how sopping fucking wet you were for him from the moment you saw him,  if you could have formed a coherent thought as his thick tip kisses your entrance, before he absolutely plunges himself inside you. The delicious shock of it steals the breath from you, your soul escaping with a moan, only to be reclaimed with his mouth on yours. He takes you like the ocean, relentless and rolling, filling you with every thrust. It’s gratifying, the animalistic sounds of abandon he makes as he fucks you. If you didn’t know any better–you might have swore you were making love, despite his hedonistic frenzy.  

The same way you knew something was wrong in the first second of seeing him in the hallway, you know he’s close to finishing already, his breathing frantic in the bend of your neck, his grip just this side of bruising. He seems to remember that he’s done very little to see to your pleasure, amidst the haze of chasing his own gratification. He sits up on trembling elbows, making to reach between you. “Fuck. I’m sorry, baby. You feel so good.” Maybe it’s ridiculous, that it brings tears to your eyes to hear the endearment. You find you don’t even want to cum, as much as you just want to make this haunted man feel better. 

“It’s ok,” you pant in answer, catching his hand to place it on your breast. “Cum for me, Jack. I know you need it.” 

He buries his face in the bend of your neck; you’re not sure if the sound he makes is a moan or a sob, as he thrusts as deep as he can inside you, bathing your cervix with the hot flood of his seed. He continues to hold on to you as though you are the last sane thing on this earth, and you let him, your legs still wrapped around his narrow hips, your hands smoothing across the muscles of his broad shoulders. 

Only much, much later, does it seem to dawn on him what he’s done–and maybe just who he did it with. He draws back to look at you with concern written in those big brown puppy eyes, smoothing your hair away from your face. You can’t help but close your own lids; jesus, how you missed his touch. You feel utterly breakable in that moment, but he’s the one who needs healing right now, so you get your shit together, gather it all back up tight and shove it down in your lockbox of a heart. 

Before he can apologize or say something stupid, you pull him down to rest on your breast, the way you’ve done a hundred times before. Surely the muscle memory of it is as comforting for him as the act in the moment itself. “It’s ok, Jack. Just rest. I’ve got you.” 

He sags against you, curling that powerful body around yours–and falls asleep. 

You were right, of course. Your heart feels exactly like it’s been fed through a grinder, as you hold this beautiful manchild in your arms, your thighs deliciously sticky with his cum. A part of you hopes that he’ll just sneak out in the morning without waking you. It would almost hurt less, than any excuse he’ll have to offer you, when the sun comes streaming through your window. 

***

But when next you wake, it’s not to the sun, or the shift of weight on the mattress while a large man tries to slip out without a sound. It’s to wet kisses upon your neck, and an agonizingly gentle touch sliding down your torso, tracing the ladder of your ribcage and the swell of your belly, before making his way up again. 

“You know,” he says softly against your cheek, “you really shouldn’t open the door to anyone in the middle of the night.” 

You wonder if he can see you rolling your eyes in the dark. But then his lips touch yours, and the urge to argue with him for argument’s sake dissipates into thin air. Instead you opt for honesty, the spell of intimacy not yet broken in the shadows of what must be early early morning. 

“I think…I knew it was you.” 

He lets out a shuddering sigh, kissing your jaw, then lower. 

“Baby…” It feels so good, to hear him say it like that against your skin. You can almost forget it isn’t true anymore. You’re not his baby. You’re not his anything, even though he’s here in your bed, and his big hand is sliding down your belly again, his fingers combing through your curls. “Let me touch you?”

You really should say no. 

“You don’t have to.” 

He ducks to suck the soft skin of your breast lightly, then kisses it to soothe the burn. That luscious mouth…god it curls your toes. “I want to. I promise you.”

There’s so much you want to ask him. Things like why? And I thought you didn’t love me anymore? You’ve since reasoned that it’s the only way he could truly bear to break things off, the way he did. You certainly hadn’t had the strength to give him up, no matter what the stress of his occupation wreaked on you. 

You don’t have the strength to say no. You do manage not to beg, like the needy little thing you are, with his big body curled over yours. You’ve always felt like nothing could touch you, with him by your side. As it turned out the only thing that could hurt you all along, was him. 

You nod your assent before catching his mouth, sliding your tongue against his as his thick fingers explore your puffy slit, still wet from both of your juices. He makes a sound in the back of his throat that lifts every hair on your body, a delicious shudder running through your spine. His strong fingers circle your aching clit, just the way he knows drives you wild. Not too hard, not too soft. Fuck, this man has your number still.  

You haven’t been with anyone, since the last time you were with him, despite your well-meaning girlfriends dragging you out to bars and trying to get you to forget this man who left your heart shredded like bomb shrapnel. Because deep down, you knew, you just knew this man ruined you, utterly fucking ruined you for anyone else. Who the fuck could compare? Not some asshole hoping for a one night stand down at TJ’s, that was for sure. 

You realize you have tears running down your cheeks, you don’t know how it’s possible for it to be so good and hurt so much all at the same time. 

Unfortunately when he moves to kiss your cheek, he notices. “Hey, hey,” he says, his hand stilling between your legs, making your hips writhe with frustration. “You ok?”

“No,” you answer honestly, reaching for him. He has you cradled in those big arms, and  you can feel his manhood so firm and silky smooth against your hip. You are not ok, without him inside you right now. “Will you make love to me again?” 

He pays you a ghost of that usual blinding smile, a thing a woman would sell her soul for, and it just breaks your heart all over again. 

He never really answers you with words. The two of you move with pure magnetism, your leg hooking over his hip, pulling him close, inviting him inside. Without a condom, again, you think as he settles between your thighs, sinking inside you so smoothly. Maybe not smart, even though you're on birth control, but it’s the way you’re meant to be together, raw and no barriers between you. As usual, he fucks you and makes love to you all at the same time, looking into your soul while he does it, and it’s the best thing you’ve ever known. This time you cum together, and maybe it’s a little pathetic, the way you cling to each other in the darkness of your bedroom, like you really can stave off the misery of the outside world with this bit of human intimacy, your bodies inextricably entwined. 

You fall asleep together, this time with your head on his chest, and as you drift you decide you’ll wake up and make him breakfast, and you won’t ask him any painful questions about what this means or if he wants you back, or if this is just a comfort fuck and you won’t see him again until the weight of the world gets too much–or maybe never, because this man is bound to find someone to settle down with. Someone he can’t bring himself to let go, the way he did you. 

So you are so surprised, when you wake up, and you smell eggs and bacon and something sweet cooking. You stumble into the kitchen to find him in his blue plaid boxers, flipping a pancake, singing under his breath to R.E.M. on the radio playing low. He’s so beautiful it hurts, and it’s like your heart is gripped in an unforgiving fist. 

He turns to see you in the doorway and offers you a smile. It’s still not quite the usual 100 watt Jack Traven special–he’s not feeling well enough for that. This man hides nothing, he’s so true, he wears it all on his sleeve for you. You love that so much about him, and it hurts like a knife between the ribs. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey.” 

“Hungry?” 

“Yeah.” 

You shouldn’t feel so shy about walking into your own kitchen. 

But you aren’t sure where you stand. Do you kiss him, hug him, the way you want to, the way you used to? Or are you operating under one-night-stand-protocol? Play it cool, act like you barely even like the guy? It’s so fucked up, and you never wanted to be in this position again. 

Sensing your hesitance, he crosses the floor to you, engulfing the side of your face in his big hand as he kisses you good morning, like nothing ever changed. “Hey,” he says again, his forehead pressed to yours. 

“Jack.” 

“Yeah, baby.” 

You told yourself you weren’t going to ask painful questions. Remember? Remember that? So you just sigh, and close your eyes, and absorb this moment for what it is. “Do you feel better?” you ask. Another important question. 

“Yes and no.” 

You sigh again through your nose. The corners of his mouth twitch, because he knows you so well, and that one little gesture conveys a novel to him too. 

“Thank you,” he says, for last night, and whatever else, you don’t really know.

“Any time.” You mean it, when you say it. 

“Yeah?” There is a hint of his usual sparkle in his eyes as he asks this. And a part of you wants to pick a fight, to say I’m not the one who left. But maybe you have grown up a little, because you bite your tongue for now. 

“Yeah.” You reach up to touch his hair, the soft spikes of his buzzcut like velvet beneath your fingers. You know he would have beautiful hair if he grew it out. You’d seen his high-school pictures. He had the potential for hair to make a grown woman weep. 

Later, with your mouth full of pancake, you ask gently, “Do you want to talk about it?”

He flexes his jaw, looking out the window. He always bottled things up, before. He didn’t want to burden you with the hard things he saw at work. You didn’t want him to carry it alone. Usually you had to pry it out of him, because of course he refused to see the shrink at work. 

You realize you are gobsmack surprised when he actually volunteers, “We had a hostage situation. A woman…died. The bank robber shot her. It was my fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault, sweetheart. It was the criminal’s fault. He brought a gun to a bank with the intention to steal money by any means necessary. You did your best.”

Once upon a time, he would have argued with you on that too. His jaw clenches as he thinks about it, argues with you in his mind, at least. 

But this time in the end, he closes his eyes, nods. Reaches for your hand across the table. You take it, holding on to him. Those warm, strong fingers wrapped around yours feel like home, and you try not to start crying because you’ve missed him so much. 

“Y/n…?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. For pushing you away.”

Once upon a time, you would have said something inane, like that’s ok. You’ve grown as a person too, and this time, you nod, because he does owe you an apology. “Thanks for that.” 

“I know…I don’t deserve it. But maybe…if you’d let me…I could make it up to you?”

You close your eyes at hearing that, light headed. You might have fallen out of your chair, if not for his hand anchoring you. 

“I would like that,” you admit, giving yourself points for not sounding too pathetic, and crawling across the table through the breakfast dishes to sit in his lap. 

Then, he does flash you the 1000 watt Jack Traven smile, and the circuits in your brain melt. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you big idiot.” You’re really not sure if he pulls you, or if you get up and walk, but you find yourself in his lap with your lips on his, his strong arms wrapped around you and his lips on yours. He rocks you like a child, smiling against your mouth between stealing kisses.  

“I love you.”

You feel as though the desert of your heart has suddenly undergone a superbloom, the ferocity of your love making you lightheaded.

“Jack…”

“Yeah?” He really is smiling now, in between kissing you, cute little snatches of sweetness all over your face. With hands on his cheeks you catch his lips, smiling against his mouth after a long smooch. 

“I love you too. But if you ever break up with me for any reason other than you don’t love me anymore, I might maim you.”

This wins you that radiant smile that curls your toes again. “So much for the Florence Nightingale oath.”

“Leave her out of it, this is between you and me.” He chuckles, and squeezes you again in his big arms.

“Alright. Consider me warned.”

“Good.”

His big hand runs up your thigh, that dark sparkle in his eyes that never fails to take your breath away. “I feel like I should start that making up I have to do here.” Suddenly you find yourself seated on your kitchen table, Jack smiling up at you from between your legs. He reaches for the syrup, and you can’t help but throw your head back with laughter, certain he’s teasing you. “You are going to make such a mess!”

“Honey, you’re the one going to be making the mess.” He has the nerve to smirk up at you before stealing your panties, and smearing syrup up your thighs.

[nunalastor]

I couldn't resist the AU spinning around in my brain like a microwave, so Sleeping Beauty AU.

Alastor despised his father for a multitude of reasons, that was why he killed him all those years ago. But that murder would have been much more vicious if he had known his father pissed off the Queen of Hell, the one summoned by humans in place of an absent Lucifer, so severely that she turned her ire onto the infant Alastor.

Lilith was said in stories to rob young infants of their lives, but for the slight Alastor's father made against her, she took it a step farther. She would not rob Alastor of his mortal life, but she would rob him of his immortal life, taking his soul as her own and casting a curse so when the sun set on his 125th birthday, he would prick his finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and fall into a slumber from which he would never awaken. No matter how long he lived, he would have enough time in the afterlife to consider it home, before being harshly ripped away.

Alastor was never told about this curse while he was alive. His mother hadn't known either, so it wasn't like this was some massive secret. His father just didn't think to mention he had been condemned before he even said his first word. He spent most of his time in Hell unaware of the ticking clock over his head, until the day he ran into Lilith just as she was leaving for Heaven. Lilith told him of the curse, and revealed the chain around Alastor's neck he didn't know he had, but left before Alastor could learn of any way to break the curse.

He spent 7 years in solitude pouring through ancient texts trying to figure out how to break the curse, but it was designed so no power in any realm could change it. The only way to break the curse was true love's kiss, and that obviously wasn't going to happen, so Alastor turned his eyes toward Charlie. She was Lilith's daughter, so if he either won Charlie's favor or her soul, maybe he could convince Lilith to break the curse and his chains. He wasn't sure that would work, the curse was specified so no power may change it and that might include Lilith's, but with no true love in sight, that was his only option.

Everything went almost perfectly. Within 6 months, he had Charlie's favor metaphorically and literally, and Lilith even appeared only a few months after so he could use it to have Charlie talk to her mother. He didn't give the exact details, just that it was urgent, and Charlie was more than happy to do it.

Lilith refused. She didn't say whether she couldn't or just wouldn't, but she spelled it out for Alastor by wishing him a happy birthday that evening. The curse was going to take effect at sundown, and there was nowhere he could run to escape it. Alastor didn't have time to be enraged or horrified before the curse took over his mind, and his body moved outside of his control in search of the spinning wheel that appeared in his radio tower.

Charlie found Alastor after an hour of searching, trying to apologize for her talk with her mom not working out and wanting to offer her own help with whatever Alastor needed. She found Lilith standing in Alastor's room, and Lilith pulled back her long dress, "Here's your precious Radio Demon," revealing Alastor passed out on the ground.

👀

[hookhausenschips]

Sun & Moon

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Summary: The moon glows using the sun's light while the sun asks for nothing in return.

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From the very beginning, the chemistry between Y/N and me was undeniable. That night at the charity gala in Barcelona, the first thing that caught my attention was Y/N's passionate conversation about their latest project on renewable energy solutions. They were animated, their eyes alight with fervor, and I found myself drawn in by their enthusiasm and knowledge.

They made complex concepts seem simple, and their commitment to making a positive impact on the environment was evident. I was racing cars, pushing technology to its limits on the track, while they were harnessing technology to save our planet. It felt like destiny that we should meet.

As the evening progressed, we discovered more common ground between us. Our conversation drifted from professional to personal interests, from favorite books and films to places we’d traveled and hoped to see.

I remember how Y/N laughed at my clumsy attempts to recount a mishap I’d had in Japan—trying to order food and ending up with something entirely unexpected. Their laughter was like music, easy and genuine, and it resonated deeply within me.

As our relationship developed, we faced the challenge of my racing calendar and Y/N’s fieldwork. Despite the glamorous veneer of my profession, the reality was a grind of airports, hotels, and relentless pressure. Y/N, too, faced their own challenges—remote locations, long days in the field, the emotional toll of environmental setbacks. But we made it work with nightly calls, messages filled with pictures and emojis, and the promise of reunions in far-flung places.

One such reunion in Greece stands out vividly in my memory. After a particularly grueling season, finding Y/N waiting for me at the airport was like a breath of fresh air. We drove to a small island, famous for its natural beauty and serene nights. That evening, as we lay on the beach, the conversation turned philosophical.

I spoke about the sun and the moon, musing on how freely the sun gives its light, asking nothing in return, and how beautifully the moon reflects it. It was then that Y/N offered their perspective, highlighting the moon’s role in reflecting that brilliance back to the earth. It was a perfect analogy for our relationship—I gave my love and support as freely as the sun, and Y/N reflected it back with equal warmth and beauty.

Our relationship was a continuous exchange of support and admiration. I marveled at Y/N's resilience and the way they tackled their projects with unyielding dedication. They, in turn, were always there to celebrate my victories and console me in defeats, reminding me that the race track wasn't everything. Their presence brought a balance to my life that I had not known I needed.

That night under the Grecian stars, I realized how deeply interwoven our lives had become. We were two individuals, each strong in our own right, but together, we were invincible—like the sun and moon, separate yet forever linked in a beautiful, eternal dance.

This realization was both humbling and exhilarating. As the waves lapped gently at the shore and the stars twinkled above, I knew I had found my partner, my confidante, my best friend. This was not just love; it was a profound connection, a mirror to my soul.

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Carlos Sainz Taglist: @tallrock35, @yourbane, @lightdragonrayne, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119, @leclercdior

F1 Taglist: @hiireadstuff, @donteventry-itdude, @spookystitchery, @dhanihamidi

[rose-tinted-glasses671]

Echo Chambers Inside A Neighborhood (ch. 7)

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a/n: hellooo! im back! im finally done with my exam and im so excited to be able to dedicate some time to this fic again. i whipped up a little something in a couple hours because i felt bad about not having updated in so long. also, for my south asian girles, i was listening to "ek baar dekh lijiye" from heeramandi when i switched over to writing in ghost's pov later in this chapter, just a little something to put you in the mindset for that part! okay im done talking. enjoy <3

taglist: @lovelyladymayyy @specialagentmonkey @elle-writes-things @anotherrickinthewall @ghostlythots @dmitriene @xaestheticalien @urbimom @emily-roberts @lilpothoscuttings @teconkaals @danika1994 @lazybutsmexy

“No.” The violence with which you shook your head could’ve given you a concussion. “There is absolutely zero chance of that happening, Ghost.”

“Are you not understanding the severity of the situation?” The man paced back and forth in front of you, as if you exasperated him to no end. How nice.

“I don’t understand the severity of the situation?” you practically yelled, your arms crossed and anger rising in your chest. “Do you understand the severity of my situation? You want me to leave my job, my flat, my studies! For what? Because a ‘bad man’ is after me?” This was starting to sound like a James Bond film, and you were less than amused. In fact, you were furious. How could Ghost ask that of you, knowing that you worked like a dog to support yourself?

If you left, that meant giving up everything you’d worked years to build for yourself. However frugal, it was yours.

You watched as his eyes softened, taken over by understanding. He knew, he felt it in his soul, your anguish. Before him, your life had been in no one’s hands but your own, until Ghost had decided that he didn’t want to live alone in his flat anymore and called your number, looking to rent your extra bedroom. Unknowingly, the second your voice had rung out through his phone, he had snatched your life from you and promised it to his enemies. Now they were knocking on the door, demanding their share.

“Just tell me what’s going on,” you pleaded, your arms unfolding and your demeanor softening. You approached Ghost until you were close enough to place your hand on his arm. His eyes shifted to where you were touching him, then to your eyes, where they stayed for a second before he looked away again.

“I can’t tell you anything. All I can say is that it isn’t safe here for you anymore and I need you to come to the base with me. We can keep you safe there.”

You had woken up this morning with your head pounding but memories of the night before still clinging on. A smile had found its way onto your lips, the feeling of Ghost’s body under your arms a reminder of what had transpired. You had left your room in search of him, to maybe talk to him. But what you found instead was an empty flat, and more unnervingly, two burly military men standing outside your door when you tried to leave.

“Who are you?” were the first words you spoke that morning, directed at the two guys who stood with their feet shoulder width apart and fingers poised over the trigger of their guns. You’d definitely be getting complains about this from your neighbors.

“We’re here for your protection, ma’am,” one of the men had said.

“Protection? From what?”

“We’re not at liberty to discuss,” the other had piped up.

“I’m not leaving,” you finally responded, pulling your hand away and stomping towards the couch. You plopped down on it and grabbed the TV remote from the stand next to you, about to press the button to turn the TV on when Ghost came to stand in front of you, blocking your view.

He looked down at you with stern eyes, as if a father scolding his child for misbehaving. “I wanted to do the right thing and ask you politely to come with me,” he began, his voice dangerously low and carrying a hint of aggression, maybe to intimidate you. “Don’t force me to carry your arse out of here.” He leaned down slightly, just a fraction. “Go to your room, and pack a bag. We. Are. Leaving.”

His tone commanded no disobedience. Right now, he wasn’t Ghost…he was Lieutenant Riley. But you were nothing if not a brat. You looked up at him through your lashes, channeling all your confidence in the face of his brashness. “Make me,” you whispered. Famous last words.

Because before you knew it, before you even had a chance to make out the expression in his eyes, he leaned down all the way and grabbed your legs, pulling you forward on the couch so that, ultimately, he could situate his arms around your hips and lift you off the couch. And then you were flipped upside down with such suddenness that it made your head spin for a moment.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?” you screamed, trying to wiggle out of Ghost’s hold as he positioned you over his shoulder, but he kept a firm grip over your hips.

“I’m doing what I have to,” he said to you as he walked towards the door—you could tell by the retreating of your couch as you craned your neck up to see straight. “Grab her clothes out of her closet and bring it to the base…Oh, and her cat.” Ghost’s gruff voice rung out through the flat. You heard a “Yes, lieutenant,” in unison before you were finally carried out.

“This is kidnapping!” you yelled at him, hoping a neighbor would hear and come out. But of course, Ghost had already reached the end of the hallway and was now proceeding down the stairs towards the exit of the building.

“So be it. If you’re not bothered enough for your own safety, I’ll be bothered for you.”

“Don’t do this, Ghost. Please. What am I going to tell my boss? How am I going to continue my studies?” You were getting frustrated, not only because you were being jostled by this big man, but also because he wasn’t listening to you.

He said nothing as he finally opened the door leading out of the building, the chilly air sending shivers down your spine. You had on only jeans and a t-shirt, not even shoes or a coat. A few seconds later, you heard a car door opening and then blessed warmth as you were placed in the backseat. Not of a car though, but rather a large SUV.

The relief of finally being put down nearly surpassed the anger you felt towards your roommate for the stunt he just pulled. Did he think he was your keeper, forcing you out of your flat like that to take you to some unknown location?

You were about to say something, but then Ghost got in beside you and shut the door, barking, “Let’s go.”

You were beginning to lose your words as you cautiously looked around at the tinted windows of the SUV, then towards Ghost, who was very pointedly not looking at you, then to the driver, who had a mustache and was wearing a beanie.

You jolted up in your seat and leaned forward to address the driver yourself.

“You’re an accomplice to this kidnapping! I want to talk to the police.” You were getting flustered and losing your fight. What could you do about this anymore? You were no match against two obviously bigger, much stronger men.

“I assure you miss,” the man spoke up, eyes not leaving the road and amusement in his voice, “This is for your own safety. The base is highly secure and is the best place for you to be until the threat is neutralized.”

“Threat? Neutralized? What are you nut jobs talking about?”

The driver ignored your questions. “I’m John, by the way. Captain John Price.”

“I don’t care!” you yelled out, but the driver just chuckled. Finally, after a minute of lamenting the incredulity of your situation, you shut up and relaxed back in your seat. You were still aware of the silent, brooding man next to you, but you didn’t look at him, didn’t address him. You’d already asked him a million times before why you needed to leave, and each time his answer had been the same. There was no point asking anymore.

But you were hurt and confused and most of all, scared. What mess did you get yourself into by letting this man live with you? You would’ve been better off alone.

The rest of the two-hour ride was spent in silence, Ghost casually scrolling on his phone while the driver, Price, focused on the road.

Ghost knew he couldn’t say anything, not in this car and not to you. You were a civilian. You were never supposed to be involved in this. He would keep you away for as long as he could. An emergency meeting with the team last night had confirmed the presence of insurgents in the area, and Ghost’s heart had sunk further and further hearing the details from intelligence: how long they’d been here, what they’d been doing, how they went about targeting you. What they couldn’t figure out, though, was where they were hiding.

He had been up all night with the files, the information swimming through his mind while all he could think about was you. He had sent Maddox and Hunt, his best sergeants, to the flat to keep an eye out, but he would not dare underestimate these insurgents again. They’d already gotten too close for comfort, so the only option was for you to go to the most tightly secure place he could think of.

Ghost racked his brain for answers, for possible motives and clues to track down where the insurgents are. He scrolled through the files again on his phone, scrutinizing the words to see if he had missed any key details. But nothing.

How the drive to the base went by so quickly, he didn’t know. He saw the gates of the entrance, and then as they opened to the let the Range Rover in. Ghost hadn’t dared to look at you this entire time, maybe not ready to the face the consequences of what he had done. And he was quite surprised that you hadn’t said anything thus far (besides that little squabble with Price, obviously). But for some reason, some invisible force pulled his head in your direction, just to see what you thought of the place.

Ghost wished he could read your mind…he wanted to know all your thoughts. Did you think about him often? Was it with the same fondness with which he thought of you? Did you dare think of him as somebody more than just a roommate? He doubted you’d want to think of him at all after what he had just done. He didn’t want to do it, drag you out of your own home like that. But what choice did he have? He would rather sacrifice himself to the insurgents than leave you at their mercy.

And then Ghost thought about when and how he started feeling so strongly for you. Maybe it was in all those mornings you had shared together before you left for work, or when he picked you up off the floor of that pub; maybe it was when you hugged him so tight last night that he could swear he found the meaning of life in your embrace, or maybe—and he knew this to be the truth in his heart of hearts—it was when you uttered that first ‘hello’ to him on the phone, inexplicably tying your soul to his with just two syllables.

The SUV finally came to a halt in front of the barracks, but Ghost refused to avert his eyes from the side of your face. He felt so much in that moment, memorizing the details of your face: the curve of your nose, the pout of your lips, the softness of your cheeks.

And then you turned your head towards him, feeling his gaze on you like the heat of the sun. You looked into his eyes, saw something change within them. These gazes were all he gave of himself to you, and you had cherished it with your life. But right now, those eyes angered you, reminded you not of friendship or longing or lust, but of betrayal and hurt.

You averted your eyes from him, and in that moment, Ghost thought he’d lost you forever.