#“even if you don’t think you deserve friends or love they’ll ALWAYS find you!!” no actually i’m just aplatonic and don’t want friends (:
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saw a post talking about how love will always find you even if you think you’re undeserving of it followed by the tags basically saying “not just romantic love tho obviously, i don’t know where i’d be without my friends :)” i know they probably meant well but whyyyyy
#“even if you don’t think you deserve friends or love they’ll ALWAYS find you!!” no actually i’m just aplatonic and don’t want friends (:#it’s not a matter of i don’t think i deserve any i just don’t WANT any#istg i always see these kinda of posts every day but idk this one got to me#platonormativity#spin’s bitching#also i know “well that means the post just wasn’t made for you! other people want love and friends and deserve some positivity!!”#and i agree that people that want love and/or friends deserve kind messages#however the part about “not necessarily romantic tho; it can be platonic!!” makes it clear said post wasn’t for repulsed apls (or loveless)
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Hey Mae! I love your work sm. I’m submitting a request because right now I’m dealing with some really crazy friend drama and while I’m mostly handling it okay it’s still a lot! Your fics bring me a lot of comfort- especially your James fics- and I was wondering if could do James comforting reader because of friend drama.
Totally okay if you can’t and thanks for listening either way!
<3 M
Thanks for requesting M, hope your drama is causing you a bit less stress these days! <3
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 838 words
“And when I asked her she said she wasn’t upset, but I could tell, you know?” You’re sitting with your hands trapped under your thighs on the kitchen counter and your back against the cabinets as James makes a sauce for your pasta on the stove.
Your boyfriend makes a dissatisfied tsking sound. “Upset in general or upset with you?”
“Upset with me,” you clarify, sighing. It’s been an exhausting afternoon. “She gets like this sometimes. She’s all huffy and snaps at me whenever I say anything, but if anyone brings it up she’ll say she’s fine. I don’t know why it always seems to be me.”
James makes a sad face, kissing you on the cheek. “M’sorry, lovie. Then what happened?”
“Then, we were just, you know.” Your fingers wiggle underneath your thighs, wanting to fidget with something, but you’d put them under there in the first place to keep from picking at your hangnail. It’s not unusual for you to come home from a hangout with your friends eager to gossip with James, but today’s weighing heavily on you. “We were just walking around, trying to find somewhere to eat. Everyone else was acting like everything was fine so I was trying to go with it, but any time I talked she’d snipe at me like I was being so annoying. And I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong.
“After a while, one of the girls asked if she was alright, and she said she was, but then almost right after that I was talking to someone else and she got really pissed off with me—I don’t even remember what it was, honestly, something about me asking a dumb question—and I just—I completely snapped.”
James looks over at you, eyes widening slightly behind his glasses. You look down at your lap.
“I don’t know, I don’t think any of the things I said were wrong, but I feel—” Your voice tightens and thins, tears pressing at your eyes. “—really bad for raising my voice like that. And now she won’t speak to me.”
“Oh,” James sets down his spoon, “baby.”
“Uh oh,” you joke weakly. James only calls you baby when he’s feeling particularly sorry for you.
He leaves his sauce to simmer, nudging your legs apart and stepping between them. His hands land on your lower back, his head on your shoulder. You slip a hand free from under your leg to cup the back of his head, fingers sinking into downy curls.
“I’ve made things awkward for everyone now,” you say in a small voice. “She’s always angry, but I was the one who shouted. It’s my fault there’s conflict.”
“I really doubt anyone sees it that way,” says James. His palm that’s higher up on your back is rubbing up and down consolingly. “Anyone who knows you knows that you’re not one to shout. But we’re all bound to get a little riled up sometimes, and by the sound of it you’d just reached the end of your tether, lovely. I think your friends will understand that.”
“I don’t know.” You began this conversation hoping to keep up a light front, but you’re starting to sound terribly glum. “I know they’ll all be upset if we don’t make up. I think I need to apologize.”
“Why not her?”
“She won’t do it.”
James sighs, leaning back so he can see you and cupping the side of your neck. His thumb strokes your cheek. “If you think that’s what you need to do,” he says frownily. “I just want to say for the record, though, that you haven’t done anything wrong. She sounds like she deserved to be shouted at.”
You feel a little bit lighter after one of his world-class hugs, your lips tugging upwards. “Oh, yeah? And that’s your totally unbiased opinion, is it?”
“Totally,” he swears, lifting three fingers in a salute. “Scout’s honor.”
You let out a little laugh and pinch him on the bicep, where there’s ridiculously little yield. James grins and retaliates by catching your hand, holding it captive as he leans forward, kissing you soundly.
“You were never in boyscouts,” you mumble against his lips.
“Could’a been.” He kisses the corner of your mouth, your chin. “I like to consider myself an honorary member.”
“Pretty sure that doesn’t count.”
“Oh? And how would you know?”
James’ face is up close and personal with yours, eyes flirty and hand placed intentionally high on your thigh. If you blinked, your eyelashes would be centimeters away from brushing his glasses.
“You’re distracting me,” you say.
He smiles, half sheepish. It seeps through your warming skin. “It was working, too. Let me keep trying?”
You roll your eyes, but you know James can see the grin you’re fighting to suppress. “Sure, fine.”
“Excellent.” He dots a quick kiss on your chin and squeezes your thigh before stepping back in front of the stove. “Get the pasta out for me, please, lovie? I can hardly ravish you on an empty stomach.”
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter x self insert#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter hurt/comfort#james potter imagine#james potter scenario#james potter drabble#james potter blurb#james potter one shot#james potter oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders era#marauders x reader
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Practice On Me — Part Fourteen — Azriel x Reader
Summary: Reader is readying herself for the ball. Hot Daddy Fin™️ opens up to her a little and shares some worrying truths (and then some). Azriel and Reader reunite, body and soul.
Word Count: 8.2k
Warnings: Adult content, 18+, NSFW, minors dni.
Tried my best with this part but sorry if it's a bit iffy! This girlie is ill as FUCK. Still hope you enjoy, tho, loves!
“You know, I have to admit, I was dubious at first.”
Mor is knelt at your feet, and you think this might be the closest you ever come to having a goddess on her knees before you. A strange part of you wants her to snap out and sink her teeth into your thigh, leave a bright red mark on the skin — but alas, her attention is fully on the hem of your gown.
“My uncle, love him though I do, is a calculated bastard.” She pushes to her feet, straightening out the fabric. “But I think he actually enjoys your company.”
“He does.” Roza pitches in from her place on the couch. “I know Fin. Y/N has him eating out of the palm of her hand.”
Though she smiles, her tone is laced with clear concern. Not because she cares about Fin, but because she cares about you. Doesn’t want you to forget that this is the High Lord of the Night Court you’re meddling with.
“Males are vapid and predictable, every last one of them.” You shrug your tense shoulders. “Throw them a few pretty smiles and they’ll do anything for you.”
Mor steps back, a low whistle leaving her. “Forget the males. I’ll do anything for you.”
Her eyes rake over your gown. So do Roza’s. And you…you want to crawl out of your skin and hide.
You’ve never owned a beautiful gown like this, never been able to afford one. The couple of dresses you do keep amongst your clothes are plain ones that just about do for special occasions. What hangs off your body now is…a work of art.
Almost feels like sacrilege for the beautiful fabric to touch your marred skin.
It’s sheer, showing off more than you’ve ever before dared to, and yet there’s a modesty, an elegance, to the many whorls and swirls made up entirely of little blue jewels and pearls and beads. It gives the gown a weight that makes it cling to you, and it outlines a body that…that quite frankly, you’d never considered beautiful until this very moment.
A body that commands the garment, and not the other way round. That makes you feel like far more than just another mistreated, unfavoured Illyrian female that will one day be lost to history.
This gown makes you think: I do not need the wings I have spent my life longing for.
It makes you think: There is nothing more beautiful than a good spirit and soul, and I have both.
It makes you think: Never again will anyone — friend or family or foe — make you feel less than worthy. Less than deserving. Less than strong.
You have always had strength. And this dress somehow amplifies it. Will amplify it to a room full of people who will see, through that sheer fabric, your scars, your lack of wings, and they may pity you, or not pity you at all, or may even laugh.
But you will still be beautiful.
Movement has you realising that tears have blurred your eyes. You swipe them away, and Mor is smiling at you, and Roza looks like she’s a little choked up, too.
“You are so godsdamned gorgeous.” Mor says earnestly. “Every last inch of you.”
Indeed, you glance over your shoulder at the mirror behind you, your gaze immediately finding your scars sitting brutal and undeniable beneath the sheer fabric. You don’t hurriedly force your gaze away like you have done your whole life, don’t try to avoid them.
You just…look. Look at what has been a part of you for so long, now.
“…Mor?” Roza says quietly. “Can you…give Y/N and I a moment?”
“Of course.” Mor agrees. “Time for me to find a snack.”
The stunning blonde squeezes your hand as she strolls past, and as she leaves the room, the door is pulled shut behind her.
Roza rises from her seat, making her way over to you. And as she stops before you, her hands move up to cup your face.
“Did you know,” she murmurs, “that I’ve always thought you were one of the prettiest females in all of Windhaven?” A soft scoff leaves you, but before you can glance down, she’s holding your face firmly. “I mean that — even when Azriel brought you to the cottage that very first time, and you were covered in dirt and mud, your hair all knotted, a leaf or two in there — you thanked me for feeding you, and you gave me a smile that was just like…sunshine. Such a rare thing in Windhaven. I remember thinking, this girl deserves to smile like that, always.”
A single tear spills down your cheek, and Roza wipes it away. She definitely looks like she might start bawling, too — a rare thing for her.
“I know you were never given much of a chance to feel worthy.” She whispers. “Your mother abandoning you…your father taking your wings…they were the two people who were supposed to love you more than anyone, and they broke you and left you broken.”
“You put me back together.” A lump in your throat fractures your words. “You and Rhys and Azriel and Cassian. Your love—”
“My little dove, you put yourself back together. We just loved you through it. I just want you to know that…I just want you to remember, the next time you feel worthless, that you are beautiful, and you have always been beautiful. You’re strong, and spirited, and determined. You have a resolve like no other I have ever seen, and you can do anything — which is why I know you will achieve whatever it is you’re planning with Fin.”
Only then does your gaze drop. “I only wish to appeal myself to him enough that he’ll value my opinion — that this Fenlaros business cannot go ahead. But I still feel awful…he’s your mate.”
“Gods, in the loosest definition, Y/N.” Her hands move to yours, then, liking them together. “Believe me when I say that if it weren’t for my children, I’d never see that male again. I think you know that I do not hold him in high regard.”
“I do know. But I respect you and care about you more than anyone in the world. And if you feel even a shred of discomfort about what I’m doing, I’ll stop. I’ll find another way—”
“The only discomfort I feel,” she squeezes your hands gently, “is at the thought of any harm coming to you. But I’ll feel that way through everything you do in life, because I love you. I also feel awe, because you’re brave and brilliant, and you’re doing what’s right. What I will teach this little girl,” she places your hands on her swollen belly, “to do — to stand up against what is wrong, and do so without a lick of shame.”
“I’ll protect her with my life, you know — the babe. I’ll love her unconditionally.”
“And she will love you, my dove, just as I do. So,” she steps back, eyes your dress again. A smile curves her lips. “Do whatever it is you have to do, Y/N, to change Fin’s mind — you have my full support. I only ask three things of you.”
Your expression softens. Anything — you’d do anything for her. “Of course, Roz.”
“First, don’t get caught with your scheming.” She says. “And second — you may feel like murdering Fin. Gods, believe me, I get it. But please do refrain. He’s my children’s father, after all, and Rhys isn’t ready to be High Lord just yet.”
You breathe a laugh, dipping your chin. “No murder. Got it. And the third thing?”
Roza steps up to you, her fingers finding the beautiful, jewelled material that clings to you like a second skin. She smiles.
“Go to that ball,” her fierce eyes meet yours, “and show everybody there that your father didn’t take one bit of beauty away from you.”
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
You pace the length of your room. Back and forth, back and forth. You’re restless tonight.
Day after day is swept behind you like the snow that blankets the mountains. Time is a racing thing. Starfall is fast approaching, and thus, so is the ball. But you still feel as though you can’t get a good read on Fin’s thoughts.
No matter how many dinners you share with him, how many walks through the city streets you take together, the shows you watch in the Rainbow…he does not offer you the candidness with which he spoke through that very first conversation in his study. Any attempts to talk about Tathaln, about Fenlaros, are promptly diverted. He wants to talk about you — wants to know you.
It feels like the opportunity to stop this shit show in its tracks is slipping through your fingers, and you can’t grab hold of it, pull it back.
So instead of sleeping, you think, and you pace, and you—
Gods, you just want to see Azriel.
How much space, you wonder, is enough space? You have respected his needs, have kept to Velaris, given him time to confront his innermost thoughts and feelings. But you don’t know how long he needs, and right now…right now, all you want is to see him. Look into his eyes. Hear that soft, quiet voice telling you that everything will be okay.
You need to know if he’s made a decision about Fenlaros. You’ve tried not to think about it, not to dwell on the possibility that he could choose to run from his feelings over embracing them. But the longer the silence stretches on…the more you find that hole in your heart gaping, threatening to swallow you whole.
You pace more and more, up and down in time to the ticking of the clock. It’s a wonder you haven’t worn a track through the carpet. You don’t know why you’re suddenly so antsy, but perhaps if you could just talk to Az, some of your worries could be allayed—
Before your thoughts can catch up with your body, you’re tearing through the drawers in the desk, scrambling for paper, a pen. Practically throw yourself into the chair. A letter — a letter will do the trick—
But you don’t know what to write.
You stare at the blank parchment like the words will simply appear by your willing. They don’t.
A love letter? No, no, not a love letter. Just a letter to…to remind him that you are still here. That you are reason to stay in Windhaven, and you think you could be reason enough.
Azriel… you picture him as you crawl his name. His honey-golden eyes and his silken hair. The sharp bone structure that could slice through paper, the full lips. The memory of how those lips feel is fading, and you want — need — it back. Your pen pauses, hovers at the parchment, and those lips are all you can think of, the urgency with which you crave them.
Azriel, you write again, I want to see you. I need you, too—
A soft knock lands on the door, and the pen clatters against the desk where you drop it.
The clock has just timed three in the morning — the knock is an unexpected obtrusion in the dead of night. One that makes you anxious.
But a second knock comes, and you shove the parchment and pen back into the drawer, scrambling to your feet. Perhaps it’s Roza — the more the pregnancy progresses, it’s not unusual for her to wake up in the night with need for something. You hurry over and tug it open.
Fin stands on the other side, looking…unkempt. His hair is mussed, like he’s been dragging his fingers through it. The first few buttons on his shirt have been undone, and a glimpse of a fine, chiselled chest peeks out. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He looks as though he hasn’t been to bed.
He drinks in the sight of you in your nightgown, bathed in the room’s glow. He swallows. “Forgive me, I…I saw your light on. Thought you might be having trouble sleeping again.”
You incline your head. “I was.” You admit. “…And you?”
“Too much in my head to even attempt it.”
You’re not sure what to reply with, how to help. Fin watches you closely like…like he needs to. Like gazing at you brings him comfort.
You are treading a very, very dangerous path. But you shift on your feet and ask him, “Would you like to come in?”
A tiny nudge of a smile pulls one side of his mouth up. “I was actually wondering if you’d allow me to take you somewhere.”
Your eyes widen a little. The surprise isn’t for show, and it seems to please him. “Right now?”
“The City of Starlight doesn’t sleep. Ever.”
A fact you’ve learned all too well during your stay here. There’s always some sort of activity, something going on that sends a constant pulsing through the city streets. For some reason, you hadn’t imagined Fin to be a participant in the night life.
“It’s somewhere I go when I can’t sleep.” He explains, as though you’ve spoken your thoughts loud and clear. “I think you’d like it. And from one insomniac to another, I…I would be honoured to share it with you.”
How can you possibly say no to that? For all Fin is mysterious, for all he keeps his cards tightly pressed against his chest, you truly believe that he finds a strange sort of solidarity in this one affliction that burdens you both. You may have wildly different reasons for pacing your room at night — and you’re not sure he’ll ever tell you his — but when the world is too quiet and thoughts are too loud…there’s comfort in knowing that somebody else is staring down those early hours, also.
It almost makes him seem…normal.
And perhaps that’s why you offer him a dazzling smile that isn’t entirely disingenuous. “From one insomniac to another,” you say, “I’d love to come with you.
The way his eyes light up makes you wonder if you’ve played your role, appealed yourself to him, a little too well. “Then I’ll wait here while you get dressed.”
You incline your head. “I’ll just be a moment.”
He waits patiently as you change from your nightgown into warm clothes that will shield you from the freezing night air. With no indication of where you might be going, a sweater and breeches and boots seems like the safest bet. You sweep your hair out of your face and shrug the weariness from your bones. When you emerge from the room, Fin’s gaze traces you like you’ve donned an evening gown and not the thickest layers you could fine.
“I find you so very intriguing.” He comments unexpectedly, and you’re not sure what he means.
You plaster a smile on your face, all the same. “Where are we going, Lord of the Night?”
Heat stokes his hickory eyes, and he looks as though he’s actually trying to tamp down on a broad smile. “It’s a surprise.”
You hold a hand out. He takes it. “Then surprise me.”
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
“Tilt your head up.” The instruction comes from close behind you. Near enough that a warm breath tickles the back of your neck. You dutifully obey. “Now, open your eyes.”
Your eyelids flutter open slowly, cautiously. What you’re met with has your next breath catching in your throat.
A dome of starlight arcs high above you. The twinkling jewels in the sky feel almost close enough to reach out and touch, and they shine brilliantly through the glass roof, an occasional transient one cartwheeling its way past in pursuit of another place.
You can only stare. Gape. Your feet move forward a couple of steps, but your face remains tilted upwards.
You were in this building only a couple of evenings before, but it had been so packed, then, so filled with music and chatter and laughter and activity, that you hadn’t noticed what sat above your head. You’d been far too enamoured with the performers, their poetic verses and fluid dances, the tragic climax that had brought you to tears.
Now, the largest theatre in Velaris’s rainbow is empty and bathed in darkness, broken only by silvery moonlight. You and Fin are the only two here. And standing on the gargantuan stage, a mass of empty, folded seats staring back at you, you have the perfect view of the night sky that gives a performance all of its own above you.
There are soft footsteps, and Fin is also stepping forward, stopping at your side. “In over nine centuries, I’ve never tired of that sight,”
You shake your head, a little dazed. You’re lost for words. “I can see why.”
“There is so much unexpected, so much chaos and burden, in being High Lord. But no matter what I may face, what choices I make, and what reactions they receive…there will always be the night sky and its stars.”
Only then do you remove your gaze from the domed glass ceiling — to drink him in and wonder how many layers deep his true heart lies. This male who is as cunning and cruel as he is handsome and charming. How many dimensions does he have that you’ve never stopped to consider?
“I know it doesn’t exactly support the imagine of a calculated High Lord who shouldn’t be crossed.” Fin says, staring had at the surface of the stage whilst a wry smile graces his lips. “Sneaking off to an empty theatre in the dead of night when sleep evades me. But I find…peace here.”
You eye the ginormous building around you, dipped in shimmering moonlight and the shadows of twinkling stars. All those empty seats, the vacant orchestra pit, the stage that has trapped so many beautiful voices and words, guided so many dances and echoed so much beautiful music. There’s a haunting loneliness to the desolation. And you can’t help wondering if…if Fin relates to that, somehow.
When you snap out of your thoughts, you find he’s moved again. Now, he sits on the very edge of the stage, legs hanging down and palms bracing him. He stares out at the rows and rows of red velvet seats, not one of them disturbed by a spectator.
You’re moving before you tell yourself to. Sitting at his side and tucking your legs beneath you. You spend a short time in still silence, but the heaviness of the High Lord’s thoughts seems to spread to every corner of the building.
“When you brought me here the other night,” you angle yourself towards him, “it was my first time in a theatre — ever. I never saw a show before.”
A very slight frown pinches Fin’s features. He seems to consider that. “One of my flaws, Y/N, I have to admit, is that I often forget that there’s a world outside of my privilege. That people lack where I never will.” He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth. “Roza was right to take Rhysand to Windhaven. He’s grown with a humility that I very much do not have.”
You snort softly. “I spend a lot of time with your son, My Lord. I assure you he’s just as capable of arrogance. I’ve kicked his ass a good few times because of it.”
A quiet laugh rasps from him. “Somehow, I don’t doubt that.” He pauses, and then his elbow is gently nudging you. “I told you, anyway — it’s Fin. I consider us to be friends. Don’t you?”
In some ways, you really do. Ans what a lying, using, devious little friend you are.
Especially as you scoot closer to him. And you’re softening your features and staring openly at him.
You don’t miss the way his gaze falls to your lips.
“I do.” You say, and he lifts his eyes to yours again. “And as your friend, I’d like to know what weighs so heavily on your mind tonight.”
His mile falters. And you don’t want to lose him, to let the moment slip away from you. You quickly grab his hand before he can tense up.
“I want you to talk to me…” You make your voice soft as butter, sweet as honey. “I like talking to you, Fin.”
There’s a beat. A tense one. And then his body is loosening, relaxing, his eyes becoming infinitely warmer.
His hand wraps around yours, the pad of his thumb tracing your nail. “I like talking to you, too.” He admits, and pauses again. “…War is…a great likelihood, Y/N.”
It’s your turn to go still, then, to tense up. Icy cold surprise bolts through you. That…isn’t what you were expecting.
“War?” You breathe, your mind already conjuring images of your friends on a battlefield. “With whom? When?”
“I do not know when. It could be in a year’s time; it could be in a decade. That all depends on how long it takes for humans to rise up and rally against our kind.”
“Humans?”
“There has been more and more pushback, in recent years, from humans. Humans who are enslaved by our kind and are sick of it. More and more of them are beginning to stand up against it, to protest how they’re forced to live. They’re willing to go to war over it. I don’t know when or where, but they will. In years to come, they will.”
“As they should.” You sit up straight. Perhaps it’s the wrong thing to say, but you don’t care. “They should revolt. I think it’s barbarous, the way our kind treat them. Their purpose is not to serve us. They have just as much right to live freely as we do.”
You mean it, mean it with your whole heart. You know what it’s like to be used for somebody’s personal gain, what it’s like to have freedom always lurking just out of reach. And you’ve heard about the treatment of enslaved humans. Most would rather die that live under the cruelty of their fae masters. That the practice hasn’t been outlawed utterly sickens you.
Fin says nothing for a while. His hand continues to hold yours. His eyes drink you down with a muted intensity. Like this is the first time he’s ever really taken you in.
“I agree.” He murmurs, much to your surprise. “And when war comes — and it will, and I’m preparing for it — when war comes, I will fight alongside the humans. To liberate them.”
You look at him, then — a male who has lived for almost a millennia, but doesn’t look a day over forty. Who is so universally feared, who carries a reputation for things you can’t even bear to consider. You will not fool yourself into believing that the darkness hides an inner light, or that the cruelty is a front. He is not soft and he is not kind.
But perhaps he’s not totally bad, either. That he would put himself in the firing line for the liberation of innocent humans…it has to speak somewhat to his character.
It almost makes you regret your scheming, your manipulating.
Before you can muster a response, the High Lord is leaning closer. Your body tenses as his face stops inches away from yours.
“You need not be afraid of me, Y/N.” He whispers. “I find you…magnificent. I like that you don’t filter yourself in front of me, that you’re not afraid to speak your true thoughts and feelings. You…you are an asset. Worth so much more than you’ve ever been given credit for.”
Your gaze dips, cheeks burning at the compliment. “I don’t know about that—”
“I mean it.” His finger hooks under your chin, soothing the skin there. “Magnificent.” He repeats, and he’s leaning in closer, closer, until his lips are coasting your flushed cheek. The kiss he presses there is cold in contrast, but you have no chance to react as his mouth brushes its way to the shell of your ear and lingers there. “Absolutely brilliant. And do you know what?”
“…What?”
“After the ball is over,” his breath tickles your ear, “I’m going to bring you back here, to this stage. And those stars above our heads will watch as I strip you bare and fuck you hard enough to shake the building.”
It takes every morsel of your resolve not to start at the words. You release a shaky breath — one that makes you seem eager, responsive. It’s convincing enough that you don’t think you’d be out of place up here on this stage.
Thankfully, you don’t have to drag words from your spinning thoughts. Fin lets go, and he pulls back, rising to his feet.
“But until then,” he holds a hand out for you, “there is much to be done. Starting with you and I getting a good night’s sleep.”
You wear a mild smile as you allow him to pull you up. “A girl can dream.”
“And so can a High Lord.”
You don’t say much else to each other as he tugs you close and spirits you back to his palace. You are both pensive, and you are both tired.
But when he bids you goodnight outside your bedroom and strolls off to his own, sleep seems further away than ever. You’re thinking too much at once. Humans. War. Fin. Azriel.
You still desperately want to see Az, talk to him.
You dig back into the drawer, meaning to retrieve the letter you’d started to write.
But your hand merely knocks against wood, and the letter is gone.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
You’re tempted — to write another letter, or note, or…whatever. You don’t even know what became of the first, unfinished one, whether it made its way to Azriel or not.
But days pass, and you…you begin to lose your nerve a little. Perhaps it’s better to live in ignorance for as long as possible than know, either way, what Azriel is thinking. Choosing. Can’t help feeling that the more time pedals on without a word…the worse the outcome will be.
Distractions help. But tonight, it would seem, there are none. And it’s strange, because everything around you is bathed in luxury, in excellence, but you find yourself missing the stripped back simplicity of Windhaven. The crumbling cottages, the mead hall, the rough-and-tumble way of life. There’s always something happening in that harrowing place, something to keep you occupied. As you stare down an evening in a huge, mostly empty palace, you’re actually struck by your longing for it. Both Roza and Fin are busy. Mor is away. Only the mountains and the distant sounds of the city are your companions tonight.
And once again, your thoughts take you to Azriel.
You think maybe this need for him is getting out of hand. And maybe it’s just the sugar-sweet things that Fin has been speaking into your ear, the knowledge that deep down, there’s only one person you want to make such promises to you—
No. It’s not just that. Not just a pathetic influence of suggestive words. It’s a need.
You need Azriel.
Your closest friend. Your safety blanket. The male who saved you and brought you into the fold of a loving, supportive unit. You stared down awkward adolescence together, faced such trying times by each other’s sides.
And you need him.
Your heart, your body, your skin, is hot and heavy with it. Restless. Like the craving is pulling you apart from the inside.
You need to do something, anything, to occupy yourself; take a late-night stroll, read a book. Anything to stop you from staring at the ceiling and being eaten alive by the fire that scorches your veins.
You’re so desperate to get moving that you don’t bother to grab a jacket — just shove your feet into your shoes. A spring mildness has blanketed the city, anyway. You’ll be fine. You just need to move—
But you yank your bedroom door open, and Azriel is on the other side.
His beauty punches you straight in the gut.
He’s a vision, stood there in casual clothing, a note — your note — clutched in his hand. He takes in the sight of you just as hurriedly.
“What are you doing here,” you breathe.
He opens his mouth. Closes it. His eyes rove you again, and he swallows. “I got your note.” He answers. “I wanted to see you, too, and…the High Lord summoned Rhys, Cass and I here…to warn us to be on our best behaviour at the ball.”
You can’t say anything. Can’t speak. You just gawk like a godsdamned fool.
A strange concoction of a frown and a laugh comes from Az. “I…snuck away after…to come here—”
Before you even know what you’re doing, your hand is bunching in the front of Azriel’s shirt, and you’re dragging him into the room with all your strength. He looks bewildered as you shove the door shut behind him.
“Az, have you lost your mind?” You round on him. “If Fin knew you’d come to my room—”
“He isn’t here.” He cuts you off. “Cass went straight back to Windhaven, and Rhys knew I wanted to see you, so…he’s currently having quality family time with Roza and his father in the city.”
There’s a lot to unpack. But all your mind wants to zero in on is that one little sentence — Rhys knew I wanted to see you.
Pathetic, how your entire stomach flips.
“…You call him Fin?”
It takes a moment for your mind to catch up enough to understand Azriel’s question.
“We’ve been living under the same roof.” You shrug slowly. “I…guess he got tired of me using his title.”
Az stares at you, assessing. You’re not sure what he’s looking for, but you fidget under the intensity of his gaze.
“What is it?” You ask him.
“I’m worried about you. I know he’s taking you to the ball. I don’t want you playing his games.”
You purse your lips. “…That why you snuck here to my room, Az? To give me a warning—”
“I came here because you said you wanted to see me, and I want to see you, too.”
So open — for him. So straightforward that for a beat, you’re not sure how to react.
But then you’re moving, and so is he, and your bodies slam together in a tight, long-awaited embrace. Feeling his arms wrap around you is…everything. Everything you’ve missed and longed for. Everything you will ever long for. Whatever happens…Azriel is the only thing you’ll need, when all is said and done.
And that’s why you’re suddenly crying, clinging to him.
On instinct, Azriel’s arms tighten around you. He moves a hand up to cradle the back of your head, and he whispers, “Y/N…”
“Please don’t leave Windhaven.” The words choke out of you. “Please, Az, just…don’t go to Fenlaros. Please—”
“Y/N. Look at me.”
Tears and all, you do. You remain as close to him as you possibly can as you lift your head to meet his eyes.
You don’t know how you know, but you do — from that one, heavy stare, you can tell that things have changed. That he has changed. He looks like the same, stunning male that you’ve always admired, but something else sits on his face.
Emotion.
Determination.
Fire.
He opens his mouth. Takes a slow, shuddering breath that you feel through every inch of your body. And then he says, with utter clarity, “I’m not going anywhere.”
You almost break all over again. But he keeps talking, keeps sharing.
“I love you. No — I’m in love with you. I love you more than I can put into words. I want you and only you, and I’m not leaving you. The only reason I would ever walk out of that camp is if you were by my side, and we were leaving together.”
You are…weightless. Boneless. Held up only by Azriel’s arms. A tear rolls down your cheek, and you allow it to fall to the carpet.
“My handling of my feelings,” Az stares down at you, “has been one huge fuck up. I loved you long before you offer to let me practice intimacy on you. Experiencing those things with you…the things you made me feel…only brought those feelings to the surface. And instead of facing them as I should have done, I hid behind Kaeda to avoid them. But it was never about Kaeda. It was always you. It will always be you. And I’m scared, Y/N, I’m fucking terrified. But I’m done running. Done hiding.”
Silence sweeps into the room on swift wings, and you are suddenly incapable of thought, and of somehow turning it into words. Without Azriel’s voice to distract you, you’re aware of the tremors that wrack through his body. As though this is the scariest thing in the world to him, and he’s trying to hold strong against it.
It probably is.
He studies you closely. Croaks out, “Please say something.”
And perhaps it’s giving him the wrong impression entirely, but you’re stepping out of his arms and putting space between you. You just…need to gather your thoughts. To remember how to speak.
“I…” You blink. “I handled it badly, too.”
“It doesn’t matter—”
“I made selfish choices. I…I acted out of jealousy because I wanted you, but you and Kaeda were…”
He shakes his head resolutely. “What I told you before was true. I never touched Kaeda like that. Even before I found out about all that Fenlaros shit, I think I knew that I wouldn’t. That I couldn’t.”
A fact that breaks your heart. Your eyes fill with tears again. “But I still did. Cass and I—”
“Cassian was there for you when I should have been, and I had no right — none — to react the way that I did. If anyone did anything wrong that night, it was me. But what you and Cass did…it does not matter. Not one bit.”
You’re pivoting on the spot, turning your back to him, before you can crumble entirely. He really means it. Really does not hate you for the choice you made, even though it hurt him.
“Y/N,” Az’s voice shakes behind you. “Please…look at me.”
Now you’re confronted with the situation, part of you wants to run — to hide.
But Az is being open. Honest. No matter how hard, how terrifying it is for him…he’s here. He’s trying.
And so you’ll try, too. And you think you might be shaking just as much as he is as you turn back to him.
The two of you stare at each other. Feel the situation out with your gazes alone.
Azriel is the one to break the extended silence.
“You said you need me.” He eyes you. He’s visibly trembling all over, and it has nothing to do with the chill in the room. Trembling like he’s trying to hold himself together against the weight of the situation.
“…Yes.” You swallow. “I do, Az…I think I’ve always needed you.”
“So show me.”
You pause. Blink, your eyes blown wide. “What?”
“Show me how you need me.” He steps closer, and though he’s shaking, he outreaches a hand and find yours. “Show me how to give you what you need.”
Your fingers brush his, and you’re forcing a lump down your throat. Drinking him in. He…he’s exquisite. “You mean…”
“I mean,” the gap is closed between your bodies, and his heat is reaching you, “I don’t want to practice. I want it all…everything…with you. I want you to take me. Only you—”
You’re surging forward with so much pent-up need that when your lips collide with Azriel’s, it almost knocks you both to the floor.
But Azriel’s arms are banding around you, and he’s a pillar against you, kissing you back with just as much heat.
You don’t know which of you makes what move. Your hands are all over him, and his are all over you, and he’s walking you backwards and groaning as the kiss deepens.
You find the hem of his tunic, dip your hands under, fingertips skating warm skin that shudders beneath your touch. “Can I take this off?” You murmur, and he swallows your words greedily.
“All of it — take it all.”
And so you do. There is no method to it. You’re a woman starved and crazed as you tear at his clothing, not caring about where it ends up, so long as it’s no longer on him. More and more tan skin is exposed, more muscles, more scars. And when he kicks out of his boots and breeches and his underwear is the only remaining barrier, you’re reaching for him, for the hardness that’s pushing through the dark grey fabric and taunting you.
But Azriel reaches out an arm to gently stop you. His hand brushes your cheek, and his eyes are pure hunger as he says, “Your turn.”
And it hits you just then that up in until this point, Azriel has never seen you naked — in this capacity, anyway. There have been plenty of non-sexual circumstances over the years in which you’ve gotten a glimpse of each other, but not like this. Even when he began practicing on you, you never took your clothes off.
And you’re fucking nervous. Even more so under the press of his gaze. He looks like he may combust as you slowly move your hands to your shirt and tug the front laces loose. You pull the hem out from where it was tucked into your breeches.
The fabric parts enough that it more or less slides off you and pools on the floor. You do not meet the heavy stare that watches you so closely. You may lose your nerve if you do.
But when the last few items of clothing are off and kicked away from you, and you’re left entirely bare, you hear a sharp intake of breath. Curiosity gets the better of you. You lift your gaze and resist the urge to fold your arms over your chest.
Azriel is staring at you like…like nobody ever has before.
Like you are the rare rays of sunlight that break through the grey landscape of Windhaven. Like the world around you was forged from your own two hands.
Like you’re beautiful, and worthy, and unruined.
“…What is it?” You clear your throat, shifting on the spot.
Azriel shakes out of a daze and takes a single step closer to you. “You are…” His throat bobs, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”
You almost laugh. Almost. But something stops you.
The sincerity in his tone, his eyes. The realisation that he truly means that.
Your eyes travel from his face, down his sculpted chest and stomach. The firm, toned legs and what sits beneath him. You’ve seen plenty of his body naked. But…not all at once.
You think the air might be punched from your lungs.
He’s hard as a rock — from looking at you. The tip of his cock is already leaking moisture. His wings flare proudly at his back.
“So beautiful.” He cups your jaw, guiding your eyes back up to his.
There’s nothing else you can say, in that moment, than the words that tumble from your lips.
“I love you,” you whisper.
Emotion crosses his face, and both hands are gripping your cheeks. He kisses you deeply; so deeply that it steals your breath.
And then he pulls away, and he’s repeating his earlier words, his forehead pressed to yours. “Show me — show me what you need. No games, just…you and me.”
No games, indeed. You cannot wait any longer.
You rise on the tips of your toes and claim his mouth with yours, and you’re guiding him back, back, until his legs are hitting the bed and he’s gladly falling onto it. He sprawls out, watching as you climb over him. As your hand caresses his stomach and moves down.
And when your fingertips brush the head of his cock, a deep, delicious noises rumbles in his throat.
You mop the moisture up with your palm, using it to slick the length of him and slide your hand up and down. He hisses between his teeth, hips jerking, hands bunching within the covers on your bed.
“No games,” he repeats through gritted teeth. “This is about both of us.”
And you know that, and you’re not patient enough, anyway, for foreplay right now.
It dawns on you that there will plenty of time for that.
He is not leaving Windhaven — not leaving you.
You will have experiences together beyond this one night.
And with that very fact warming your heart and making it set to burst, you place your legs either side of his body and stare down at him. His cock brushes against your centre, and he can feel how wet you already are for him. His eyes travel down.
You watch, and you ask him, quietly, “You’re sure about this?”
His gaze flicks up immediately. “I’ve never been surer about anything in my life.” He reaches out a trembling hand and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “That doesn’t mean I’m not nervous — gods, I really fucking am. So scared. I just…want to do it right. To be good for you.”
The sentiment almost brings tears to your eyes. “You couldn’t do it wrong if you tried, Az. Do you trust me?”
“With my whole heart.” He sits up a little — angles himself closer to you. “And I love you with my whole heart, too.”
And that’s all either of you need, isn’t it? Love and trust. The need that exits between you. Everything that is just…yours and Azriel’s relationship in its entirety.
Your eyes remain locked with his as you gently reach down and position his cock at your entrance. He breathes shakily. Doesn’t look away from you once.
Not as you slide down onto him just a little. You pause at the first feel of your walls stretching to accommodate him. A pleasured frown furrows his brow. A moment passes, two, and then you slide down further.
More and more. Sinking onto him. Pausing. Adjusting. With every inch of his huge length that disappears inside you, you feel like every one of your nerve endings is struck by lightning. Azriel’s head lolls back, and he makes a soft noise.
“You’re okay?” You check, hovering over him.
“You feel—” He chokes on his words. “Fuck.”
It’s the encouragement you need to sink the rest of the way onto him. The last few inches slide into you quick, thanks to the slickness that soaks your folds, and then he’s pushed into the hilt and hitting a spot so deep inside you that you can’t stifle the noise that breaks from your throat.
“Did I hurt you?” Azriel gasps, and you can only shake your head. He seems to study your face for confirmation, before he’s pushing up to kiss you.
And you kiss him back. For a moment, that’s all either of you do.
But when he’s losing himself in your mouth, his tongue dancing around yours, seemingly distracted by your kiss…only then do you lift your hips and sink down onto him again. And then you’re falling into a slow, steady rhythm.
Azriel is gasping again, his mouth moving from yours to press kisses to your jaw, your neck, your collarbones — your breasts. As you rock slowly against him, the walls of your pussy squeezing him, coaxing him, he buries his face into your chest and explores you, lips and tongue paying attention to your nipples, teeth grazing with a gentleness that’s almost heartbreaking.
“So beautiful.” He whispers, and the hands that are sitting on your hips travel up your back — up to the scars that live in the place of your stolen wings. “Gods, Y/N, you’re everything.”
You moan, rocking harder on him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You just…want to hold him to you, to feel him against you. It’s like it all comes crashing down on you that he very easily could have left.
But he didn’t. He won’t. He is here and so are you. He is yours and you are his.
“Talk to me,” you breathe, raking your nails down his arms. “Tell me how you feel.”
“So good — feels so good with you wrapped around me.”
“Yeah?” You lean down, brush a kiss to his lips. “You like being inside me?”
“There is — fuck — there is no one, Y/N, that I want to do this with, besides you.” His mouth slants over yours, and he whispers two words — take me — before he’s giving himself to your kiss.
He’s so big, so deep. And the blood in your veins feels like molten lava as the pace picks up, as his trembling begins to subside, and he grows more confident. His groans are loud, and his hands roam over your body before finally landing on your hips. Fingertips dig into your flesh with a dizzying bite, and he’s rocking you, encouraging you to take him. To fuck him.
This is not practice. This is two bolts of lighting striking in the same place. The friction between your bodies is perfect, like nothing else you’ve ever felt. The pleasure may just finish you yet. It’s electric. Addictive. You want to feel like this forever, with him.
And more pleasure floods you as in one swift move, he flips you over — takes you entirely by surprise. You’re landing on your back, and he’s hovering over you. He stills as he stares down at you.
“This is perfect.” He says, dipping down to kiss you again. It makes him move inside you suddenly, and the different angle has you both gasping into each other’s mouths. “Gods.”
“Fuck me, Az.” You moan. “Just like that.”
What starts out slow quickly builds in pace. The roll of Azriel’s hips become thrusts — and the moans, the cries, the words that leave you, all guide them to be deeper, harder. You think you could stay like this forever, with him buried inside of you, wringing pleasure from every corner of your body. It snakes through your veins and zips up your spine, and when his hand travels down and his fingers find your clit, you fucking explode.
You cry out, bucking up from the bed as your orgasm hits you full force. Azriel fucks you through it, and his groans are growing louder, more desperate, as the walls of your cunt clench around him. He breathes out a fractured, desperate noise, leaning down to brush his lips over yours as he fucks into you harder.
“I can’t last much longer.” He chokes around his pleasure, pressing quick, nipping kisses to your mouth. “I can’t—”
“Come for me.” You gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “Come inside me.”
The noise that your words coax from him is downright sinful. He grabs your hips in his hands, slants his mouth over yours. He slams into you again, again, again, and then he’s roaring his pleasure with enough force to shake the bed, and you feel every rope of come that he spills into you.
You’re trembling. Or maybe that’s him. Or both of you. Both slick with sweat, and both shaking, and both unable to hold yourselves up any longer.
Azriel collapses beside you, his body still tangled with yours. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths heating your skin. You sink a trembling hand into the strands of his hair.
“That was—” His voice hitches, “I can’t…can’t put it into words.”
Neither can you. It’s all you can do to nod as you catch your breath.
“Thank you.” A kiss is pressed against your neck. Another. Az’s arm drapes over your chest, and he moves his mouth to yours. “Thank you.”
Still void of words, you settle on kissing him. Deep. Slow. Unhurried. Your hand cups his cheek, and your tongue strokes into his mouth. Lays out a litany of sentiments that you’re currently incapable of verbalising.
It feels like you kiss each other forever. But then you’re pulling back, pressing your foreheads together. And you stare into Azriel’s eyes as you tell him once again, “I love you.”
Emotion floods his eyes, and he holds you as close to him as he possible can, murmuring onto your mouth, “I love you, too. I think I always have.”
You know you always have. You tuck yourself into his side, content to feel his skin against yours. The rest of the world floats away. There is nothing and no one but you and him. Your Azriel.
Your eyes are growing heavy when he brushes his lips against your forehead, and he whispers the words you’ve needed to hear for so, so long.
“Whatever happens, Y/N,” another kiss joins the first, “you and I will face it together.”
pom tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes @hihelloitsbooktimeppl
#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x reader#shadowsinger#shadowsinger x reader#azriel acotar#azriel x you#azriel fic#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#acotar fandom#acotar x reader#acotar writing#acotar fanfic#acotar headcanon#acotar smut#acotar series#acotar fic#azriel fanfiction#azriel fanfic#reader insert#illyrians#rhysand#cassian#practice on me#pom
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fiancée life with hasanabi? <3
I love this sm!! I imagine this could carry on after this fic of mine <33
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-the moment you and Hasan get engaged, he will not keep his hands off you for ONE second
-he’s just so protective of you now, he always was but EXTRA
-the moment he decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, he devoted himself to keeping you safe
-of course with that came his fans. Everyone knew about you and Hasan, and there had been some hate around but you didn’t take it to heart, Hasan loved you even more for that <3
-he left it up to you to decide if you wanted people to know, i imagine you guys would do a hard launch where Hasan posts one wedding photo on his story and doesn’t say anything about it for like a MONTH, while everyone’s going crazy. It doesn’t get brought up until a random Fear& episode where they talk about his ring
-poor Hasan had so many doubts if you wanted to marry him though, he didn’t want you to feel pressured by his fan base. But you didn’t care about any of that. You only wanted him <33
-Hasan definitely would leave all the decorating choices to you, he’s known since you two were only friends what type of wedding you’d want, and he plans to give you EXACTLY that
-Hasan would also be very humble about his engagement, obviously he would talk about it with his friends but he doesn’t feel like he can talk about it as much as he wants cause of his social media presence. At night when it’s just the two of you is when he rambles on about how he feels. How excited he is to start this life with you, how he’s so happy you’re in his life and that he doesn’t deserve you. As he’s rambling you’re just lying there trying not to cry cause you’re just like “what did I do to deserve this man??”
-If you guys do decide to keep it a secret, Hasan will come up with ways to see you while he’s streaming without chat being suspicious. Like toilet breaks, or pretending the bell rung, one time he’d be like “I’m gonna see kaya make sure she’s okay” when she’s literally behind the chair.
-he just pretends he didn’t see her, he did
-I can definitely imagine a scenario where Hasan accidentally forgot to take his engagement ring off for a Fear& episode, but no one questions it cause they think Hasans told everyone.
-then will comes out with “do you guys have a date for the wedding?”
-Hasan FREAKS out, mans is already preparing to kill will barehanded not knowing his rings on display
-Hasans Like “what??” And acts all confused, then wills just like “the wedding date, for you and y/n??”
-Hasans looking at will shaking his head, trying to get him to understand that NO ONE KNOWS
-finally will realises and is like SHIT
-he does immediately jump to defend himself though by pointing at his own ring finger and then looking at Hasans hand
-Hasan looks at his finger and sees he hasn’t taken his ring off. I’m not even joking the pod is silent for two straight minutes after that
-you end up finding out about it and Hasans so worried you’re mad but really you find it funny as fuck, you laugh about it with Austin and qt for almost 10 minutes
-Hasan is PANICKING though cause he knows how fans can be and they don’t know how they’ll act towards you
-you reassure him it’s okay and it’s a relief you two don’t have to hide it anymore <33
-literally Hasan is just so in love with you, like in all the ways someone can love someone he loves you
#hasan x reader#hasanabi#hasanabi x reader#hasan imagine#hasanabi x yn#hasan piker x reader#Hasan Piker#hasan piker x you#Hasan x you
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A Letter to Talented Creators
I've been part of this community for 20 years, watching artists rise, fall, leave for new journeys, or simply stop playing or creating. We've received amazing content, but we've also missed out on much.
I wonder how many of these artists could still be creating extraordinary content if they had the support of their communities. It’s common to encounter cliques of creators who vilify anyone considering making a living doing what they love. They’ll use every trick to convince you that not only do you NOT deserve it, but that pursuing it somehow taints you.
With every new friend and artist I meet, my first advice is always: FIND a way to monetize what you do. I believe that if you have the chance to make a living doing what you love, you gain MORE TIME to do what you're great at and, especially, what others love.
Besides, you don’t need everyone’s support—just those who, like me and many other players, are willing to contribute to ensure you have the time you need to keep producing and delivering something only you can create. There are ideas that haven’t been thought of and projects that haven’t been started. Life brings unexpected situations, and we never truly know what goes on behind the scenes for each person who shares their art with the world.
Let me tell you, people are willing to support you. In reality, there are more people willing to support a creator than those who aren't. The difference is that those who are willing don’t make as much noise, but they genuinely enjoy helping an artist who continually exceeds expectations.
I know some people think, “If I make money from this, I’ll have to commit to a level I’m not willing to.” And if that’s the case, that’s fine. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. However, I see this commitment as something positive, but I respect those who disagree. As an artist, you want a certain level of "healthy" pressure. After all, art requires it—not too much pressure, but not too little, either.
Criquette, for instance, is one of the best creators for The Sims 2 in my view. He made incredible things that nearly every player has used. He was ambitious on a level I’ve rarely seen. But he’s been inactive for years. I wonder how much more he could have created if he’d been able to monetize his work—cover household bills, put food in the fridge, or handle basic expenses. How much more time he might have had to create and share? How many brilliant things we could have today in The Sims if he were still here? But he wasn’t monetized, and maybe he was never interested in it, and that’s okay!
For every artist who monetizes, there are many who prefer to do it as a hobby. And that’s wonderful. There are many runners who do it for well-being, pleasure, social connections, or the benefits it brings to life. However, there are those who run professionally. They commit to a level an “amateur” NEVER would. They undergo training that a casual or hobbyist runner would NEVER endure. They maintain diets that others would NEVER tolerate. But the fact that some monetize running and turn it into a career doesn’t prevent others from running for love, fun, or enjoyment.
So, what I’m trying to say is: it’s all okay. If you believe monetizing your talent would give you more QUALITY time to sit and produce what you love, give you the chance to take someone you love to a special restaurant simply because you can, or allow you to be BETTER at what you do because it frees you from worrying about adult responsibilities—then do it!
Be prepared for the noise others will make, but remember that those people aren’t your target audience. Even if they make noise, they don’t consume what you produce. And if they do, they might do so in secret—because attacking a creator and consuming that creator’s work is contradictory. But believe me, there’s often more inconsistency than consistency in this world. And that’s okay!
Remember that on the other side, there are many kind people who don’t mind contributing a small, medium, or even significant amount to support a creator they love, appreciate, and benefit from. Keep this in mind when considering monetization, no matter which version of The Sims you create for. If there’s even one person willing to support you, that’s all you need to start.
I am sure that with this, you’ll have more time, more quality of life, more joy, and a healthy commitment to push yourself in a positive way to give back to your audience for the support and love they have for what you create.
If I have time to create and contribute today, it’s because of these people. They’ve changed my life, shown me that I have the chance to live the life I genuinely want for myself rather than the life circumstances might have dictated. They show me daily that I can LOVE what I do and make a living from it, and that monetizing it doesn’t take away my love for it—instead, it enhances it. I hope you consider my words.
In the end, remember this phrase: “Beyond daily life and what others think of you, what do you think of yourself?” Your value is something only you define. People will respect you to the extent that you respect yourself. If anyone says you don’t have a place “here,” remember, we’re always speaking about ourselves.
We can only give to others what we have, what we are. Trust in your talent and find a way to monetize it, whatever it may be—whether it’s making jarred cakes, selling pudding door-to-door, or creating content for The Sims. I’ve done all these things, and if I’ve learned one thing, it’s that our circumstances change according to our sense of worth. When we recognize that every job has value and that there’s nothing wrong with making a living if you’re providing benefits to others with what you have to offer... So follow your heart. Take risks, give it your all, and be the artist you want to be, because there are people ready to support you. You deserve it, and you will succeed. I hope this letter reminds you of your worth.
Never forget that each of your creations is a unique expression, something only you can bring to the world. May that value and uniqueness always guide you and give you the confidence to keep doing what you love.
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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — MIYA OSAMU x FEM READER
On a bad day, Onigiri Miya becomes your new comfort restaurant. Not only is the food good, but the man who takes your orders is always kind. You think the Miya you’ve been venting to on the phone is the same Miya who shows up at your door to deliver all of your orders.
It’s too bad you don’t know there’s two of them.
wc — 2k
tags — fluff, romcom, miscommunication, miserable corporate girl x small business owner who teaches her joy
The email doesn’t even do you the courtesy of being short. They make you read through two whole paragraphs before you get to the point of it all in the final sentence.
Your termination is effectively immediately.
You sit back in your chair to allow yourself a moment to take it in. It’s…not terrible, all things considered.
You get to leave this job that you hate. They’ll pay you severance. You have enough savings to be comfortable for the next few months.
It might even a blessing.
But it still doesn’t feel good. You worked hard to land this, and now you’ll have to start all over again. Change is always hard, especially when you haven’t asked for it.
You look at the clock. It’s currently 8:30 in the morning. You’re giving yourself exactly twenty four hours to wallow, and then it’s back to business.
First things first - a good meal. Food always make everything better, and you really deserve something special today. For a moment, you entertain the idea of calling your friends over to get breakfast somewhere fancy, but then you remember -
They’re all at work.
Where you would be, if you hadn’t just been let go.
That does sting a little, so maybe you’re not as okay as you thought you were. Hurriedly pushing those thoughts to the side in favor of scrolling through your options, a plain blue banner catches your eye.
Onigiri Miya, it reads.
Japanese comfort food. Family owned.
When you click on the link, it takes you to a page that’s as simple as it’s name. It’s just a menu and a series of pictures, but it’s what you need right now. Your head hurts. You don’t have the capacity to deal with anything more.
You want something straightforward and easy to digest. Onigiri Miya it is, then.
“‘Miya speakin’. What can I get ya?”
It’s a pleasantly accented voice. When you rattle off your order, you suddenly find it a little less pleasant after he says, “Er. Ya sure?”
This is some shoddy customer service.
“I’m placing the order, aren’t I?”
“Those two don’t normally go together,” he says. “I’d suggest number nine and number thirteen instead. Trust me.”
You don’t trust him, actually. This is probably just an upselling tactic he tries on every customer, but you’re not in the mood to argue. You had thought when you called a family owned restaurant, you’d be speaking to some kindly old grandma who might let you cry and vent into the receiver for just a little while, not whoever this is.
At least the delivery is quick.
A series of sharp raps on your door alerts you to the arrival. You pull it open to a man in a baseball cap and a uniform with onigiris on both. Their merch is cute. You’d wear it unironically.
Underneath the cap, yellow blonde hair peeks out. On his shirt, a name tag reads Miya.
Instantly, you feel a little worse for thinking poorly of him. Your bad attitude from work is no reason to take it out on this hardworking entrepreneur who’s running a one man show by himself.
“Here ya go,” he says, thrusting a paper bag at you. “Eat it while it’s hot!”
And then he’s off, scampering back down the stairs instead of taking the elevator even though you’re several floors up. You suppose there’s a reason he has those thighs.
That the food is good is an understatement.
Your former coworker Aiko used to work in food advertising before she pivoted. She loved to talk about how fake the industry was during lunch, both in terms of people and actual product. It’s through her that you know that half of the food in commercials aren’t actually food, but styrofoam and plastic painted to look appetizing.
Onigiri Miya, in contrast, doesn’t look perfect. Appetizing, certainly, but not like a work of art. It just looks like what it is - a ball of rice with special ingredients for flavor.
So why are you crying as you finish your first onigiri and reach for the next?
It’s been so long since you had a home cooked meal. You’re trying not to be maudlin, but you can almost taste the love that went into everything you’re eating. Imagining Miya carefully packing each triangular ball of rice by hand with a smile has you reaching for another, then another, until eventually the entire order is gone before you know it.
Exhausted from crying and eating, you sink into your couch with a satisfied sigh and fall asleep.
It’s 1:30 P.M. by the time you rise again, feeling a little better. Sleep really was the cure to all evils. Now you have 20 hours left to indulge yourself as much as possible.
You’re not in the mood to turn off your brain by binge watching a show. You want to do something. You want to use your hands to craft something from scratch.
Learning how to make onigiri could be a start. A quick run to the grocery store and the first recipe that popped up on Google later, you have a half formed, crumbling mound of rice with pickled radish shoved inside. If you squint, it looks almost like what you got from Onigiri Miya this morning.
Who are you kidding?
That’s an insult to Miya’s craft. He put so much care into each dish - you can hardly compare your shoddy workmanship to his. There’s only one thing to do. You have to taste the real thing again to see where you went wrong.
“Miya. What d'ya want to order?”
“I’d like-“
“Hold up. Didn’t ya call this morning?”
Flustered, you nearly fumble your phone. You’re breathless as you clutch is tighter and bring it back to your ear. “Yeah,” you admit sheepishly. “Is that bad?”
“I mean, yeah, a little,” Miya says. “I appreciate the business but ya shouldn’t be eatin’ onigiri for two meals a day. Yer going to make yerself sick.”
“It’s a special day,” you tell him. “I got laid off.”
In the resounding silence that follows, you have ample time to berate yourself for sharing that. What is wrong with you? Why would you say that? He’s a stranger that you’ve randomly dumped your misery onto and you’re sure he’s -
“Ouch,” he says. “‘Kay, I’ll make an exception just for today. What’s yer order?”
Miya shows up at your door promptly. He’s ditched the cap so his yellow hair is on full display. It looks like he’s run his hands through it. It sticks up at odd angles.
“Here ya go,” he says, almost distractedly as he hands you your bag. “Enjoy.”
You bring the bag inside and start rummaging through it immediately, excited to try new flavors you hadn’t gotten the first time around. Out comes the four onigiri you had ordered, a cup of miso soup, and…
A little takeout container of sushi with a cat’s face drawn on it. A speech bubble next to its head reads, “You can do it, meow!”
Laughter echoes around your apartment. To your surprise, the world feels less daunting already. You hadn’t realized how quiet you had been the entire morning. Miya’s the only person you’ve spoken to the entire day, and even that was a quick and whispered thank you. Your throat almost hurts with the force of your giggles after disuse all morning, but it’s a good kind of pain.
Onigiri Miya, family owned. You can almost feel the warmth of an embrace around you as you bite into your steaming onigiri, still a little too hot.
All too soon, it becomes a tradition for you to order Onigiri Miya as your comfort meal. It doesn’t even have to be a bad day - you actively try to avoid associating things you like with painful feelings by using them as treats for hard days. Instead, Onigiri Miya is anything from a reward for getting to the second round of interviews or a celebration for successfully starting a new hobby.
Onigiri has become your favorite food, and the person on the other line who takes your orders and even spares a few minutes to chat with you when it’s not too busy has quickly become someone irreplaceable in your life.
You think you might need to redownload Tinder if you’re this attached to the man who fulfills your onigiri orders.
Even though you know it’s strange, you can’t bring yourself to sever your connection. Miya is warm and kind, and you’ve quickly come to think of him as a friend. It’s a culmination of lots of little moments piling up over time.
When you had forced yourself to go on your first date after a while, determined to get back out there, it had crashed and burned catastrophically. Onigiri Miya had been there to pick you back up. Miya had even recognized the sniffles in your voice that you were fighting and drawn you another little cat.
The next time you had ordered, before you could even tell him what onigiri you wanted, Miya had asked you what happened last week. Maybe that’s just how family owned businesses are. They actually care about their customers. Enough so to play therapist to the girl that orders from you every week.
Then there was the time you had gotten your first call back for a job application, and you had called Miya to celebrate.
Well, not Miya. You didn’t have his personal number, but you had called Onigiri Miya, which is more or less the same thing at the moment. This time, he had been the one to be interrupted as you blurred out your good news.
You can almost hear the smile in his voice when he says, “What’d I tell ya? I knew ya could do it.”
There’s no container of sushi with a hand drawn cat this time, but there is a little note written on a napkin. It’s accompanied by an origami star.
You don’t cry, exactly, but your eyes water up as you read the note. He’s proud of you. The star is to wish you luck on your continued journey. The knowledge that he’s proud - his own words - fuels you as you keep applying and interviewing, never letting rejection stop you.
He’s just the guy that takes your onigiri order, but at some point, he’s become someone special to you.
He cares. He spends an extra two minutes on the phone with you to ask about your day even when you can hear the sounds of a busy environment in the background. He remembers your accomplishments and failures. Whether you fall or rise, he’s there with you every step of the way.
Sometimes, you get a fluttery feeling in your stomach when he laughs at you, calling you silly for whatever mistake you’re relying to him. You miss his voice when you don’t have an occasion to call, and when something happens, your first thought is always to tell him about it.
Maybe he feels the same way, because the next time he comes to deliver your order, he tells you, “We’ve known each other long enough, ya order every week. I don’t like being called Miya. My name’s Atsumu.”
Or maybe not, because he never treats you in person the way he does on the phone. There’s no spark of connection, no bright laughter, no willingness to linger, to stay, to listen.
Perhaps he’s just shy. In that case, you’re willing to take what he’s offered you and make the first move.
The next time you order, you end the call with, “Thanks, Atsumu. I’ll talk to-“
There’s an abrupt interruption from the other end immediately.
“What’d ya call me?” His voice sounds funny.
“…Atsumu?”
Even when you’re confused, the sound of his belly deep laughter makes you feel all shivery from your toes to your head. It makes your joints feel weak, like they can’t support you, and you ease into the dining chair as you wait patiently for whatever laughing fit that’s gripped him to pass.
“Atsumu,” he repeats, with another snort of laughter. “Atsumu, really?”
“What?”
“Ya know Onigiri Miya’s a five minute walk from yer place, right?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Come here,” he says, and hangs up.
When you enter Onigiri Miya, you get instant whiplash. There’s two of them!
You’re just wondering if you should get your eyes checked when you start seeing the subtle differences. They have different hair colors, and their eyes are just the subtlest shades apart.
The most discerning difference is the way the one with grey hair is looking at you.
“There’s the girl of the hour,” Atsumu says. “I’ll leave ya to it.”
When Atsumu leaves, Miya gestures for you to sit at the bar in front of him. He’s still packing onigiri.
“I’m a little hurt, ya know. Can’t believe ya mistook me for my twin.”
“It was an accident!” You protest. “How was I supposed to know?”
“I’m teasin’ ya,” he says, laughing. “Yer so easy to rile up. Remember this, okay? I’m Osamu. The nicer brother.”
“I heard that,” Atsumu yells from the back.
“Atsumu’s just the delivery guy,” he says. There’s a twinkle in his eye. You don’t think it’s that funny, but you like seeing him mirthful. “I’d rather make the food than deal with the people, so he does it.”
“Am I part of the people?”
He gives you a look.
“Stop fishing for compliments,” he says, and your cheeks grow warm with delight. “Ya know ya aren’t.”
“Here,” he says, sliding you a napkin with a series of numbers and a hand drawn picture of a cat. “I’ve been meaning to do this for a while.”
By the cat’s head, the speech bubble reads, “Miya Osamu’s personal number.” The cat is winking at you.
“Is this…?”
He smiles at you. “Stop clogging up the line cause ya miss me-“
“I don’t-“
He ignores you. “I got a business to run, ya know? Just call me next time.”
Then, he leans over the bar. He’s too close. Your cheeks feel warm under his attention as he whispers to you, “I’ll make something just for ya, compliments of the chef.”
Trying to recover, you swallow to bring moisture to your dry mouth. You’re trying to be playful when you say, “It’s a date, then?”
He looks at you with a hint of a smile. “It is.”
#sera writes#miya osamu x reader#osamu x reader#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#miya osamu fluff#hq fluff#haikyuu fluff
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Full fic??
I’ve read that Logan S. felt really lonely being the only American in F1. Like, he wasn’t completely accepted in the grid. Maybe he has an overprotective older sister who is a professional soccer player (like World Cup level good) who finally has time to attend his races. She dislikes most of the grid, except Alex and Oscar, for how they treated her brother. quick to defend Logan and even as far as annihilate them during the annual driver soccer match to prove a point. Im thinking G. Russel pairing due to Logan living in England. he wins her over by treating logan right, acknowledging he could have been welcoming, etc. Just a thought!
OKAY I HONESTLY LOVED THIS! IT WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE (let me know if you want a part 2, because it is a bit of an interesting ending haha)
Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.
also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better
edit: i wrote part 2 - it is here
part 3 is here
George Russell x reader, logan sargeant x sister!reader
---
Y/N loves her brother, she really does. Yeah, she’s tried to get to a few of his F2 rounds, but with her soccer taking her around the world, she has had very little time. She has the entire month off though, so what better to do than visit her brother at his home grand prix. Miami is always a party, so maybe she could let loose for a bit, try and relax, and find a guy.
This is quickly vetoed when she finds Logan cooped up in his drivers room. While most people would think that he was excited for the race, most people weren’t Logan’s sister. She could tell he was thinking too hard about something, and it wasn’t good.
“Hey Logie Bear! Whatcha thinking about?” She tried to appear happy, but she could see that Logan’s smile did not reach his eyes
“Nothing, just excited for the race, the car is quick, just aiming for some points, hoping for a safety car. The garage is over there, sorry I have to warm up.” Y/N looked up as Benny entered the room and Logan stood up. She could tell how closed up he was, how he didn’t want to talk at all
“Okay, we’ll talk after the race Logan! Good luck, you'll smash it!” Y/N walked out of the drivers room towards the garage seeing the chaos of it.
Y/N watched as Logan apologised over again and again to his engineer for not making up any more places. She stood there listening to his engineer reassure her younger brother. She eventually decided that she couldn’t listen to it anymore and decided to wait in his garage room.
When he walked in, Y/N could tell he wasn’t sure whether to throw stuff or cry.
“Hey, hey, come here! It’s okay, it’s okay!” She opened her arms and sat down as Logan fell down into them and hugged her baby brother, as he started talking the words just rushed out
“I just wanted to prove that I deserve to be here, feel like I’m a part of the paddock.” Logan hugged his sister back tightly, hesitating slightly.
“What do you mean? Of course you’re a part of the paddock, you’ve got your seat, y’know?” Y/N was confused as to what her brother meant, from what she had seen, he was welcomed warmly by everyone.
“Yeah but, I’m never invited to the grid parties, no one really ever talks to me, except Alex and Oscar, and Oscar is getting into the rest of the grid through Lando, and Alex is only really talking to me because I mean, he’s my teammate we have to be friends, and I just want everyone to like me… so I thought maybe if I got some points and good overtakes, then people would like me..”
“Oh, Logie… It’ll be okay. If they don’t like you then I think they’re just idiots, but they won’t. They’ll warm up to you, I promise.”
---
George watched as Y/N sprinted up and down. Okay the F1 team was never going to win, particularly when multiple women who were playing in the world cup were playing on the opposition team, but ‘Sargeant’ (who also had the same name as the rookie driver this year, who was sitting in the stands) was dominating, she had more goals then all of the f1 team, so of course the celebrity team won 4-1. She’d almost immediately jumped into the stands once the referee blew the whistle and started talking to Logan, maybe the kid got married young and just didn’t want anyone to realise.
Although she looked quite similar to Logan, so maybe his sister instead. Either way, she did not seem to like them, she called them all dickheads and shoved them over a few times. George’s knees were sore. But she was still pretty. So he approached Logan and the girl.
“Hello! I’m George and…’
“I’m pretty sure my brother knows your name, Georgie! Why don’t you say hello to him?”
“Y/N-”
“No. Say hi to Logan, George.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, almost forced.
“Hey Logan! Looking forward to the grand prix this weekend?”
“Uhhhh… yeah. ” He turned back to Y/N “I’ve got some stuff to do, so you can make your way back. See ya!”
As soon as Logan was out of listening range, Y/N pulled George in and started whispering, “Listen, I don’t know what problem you have my brother, but you need to get over it ASAP, understood?”
“I.. don’t have a problem with your brother.”
“Well, then why is he telling me that there have been 2 people, Oscar and Alex, who have actually welcomed him to F1. Everyone else has snubbed him and he doesn’t understand why you don’t like him. He’s lonely. So fucking sort your shit out.”
George stood there, mouth gaping as she stormed off to grab her bag and then sprinted after Logan. He could almost hear the f1 team laughing at his failed attempt at flirting, but all he could think about ‘was what she said true?’’
---
Y/N was going to cry.
She could see Logan in the family and friends box, hands over his mouth, eyes glassy.
That corner kick should’ve gone in, she thought, we had so many chances and we still fucked it all. Couldn’t even give Megs a proper farewell.
She walks slowly over to her younger brother and let his arms wrap around her
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Dragged you halfway ‘round the world when you should’ve been training only to lose the first game.”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, don’t worry about it. Go pack up, we can head home and spend some time in London relaxing. I’ve got next week off before I need to be back in the factory.”
—
Y/N was awoken by a knock on the front door. Hearing Logan snoring from his bedroom, she got up off the couch, rubbing her eyes and opened the door.
Of all the people she was expecting to see, George Russell would’ve been just about the last on her list “Uhh, hey?”
“Oh, morning! Is your brother up?”
Y/n paused for a moment to let George hear the snores coming from Logan’s bedroom. “Yeah, no, sorry. I can pass on a message?”
“Oh, No I was just going to offer if he was still up to go on a morning jog with him, but as he isn’t…”
“You been doing this often?”
“Almost every week we’ve been in town. I don’t think he understands what or why I’m doing this. But, he’s a good kid, opens up a bit when you talk to him. He likes you, respects you a lot for 2 siblings pursuing their sport across the globe.”
“I’ll make some breakfast and you can stay til Logan wakes up, okay? As a thanks for looking out for him. Hard for me to do from across the globe.” Y/N looked tense, with an almost forced smile. She looked awkward, before stepping back, holding the door open so George could come in.
---
“LOGAN SARGEANT!”
“Hello, dear sister, what do you want?”
“YOU GOT POINTS!”
“I think you must have watched a different grand prix, I got P12.”
“Hamilton and Leclerc got disqualified, something about wood, but you got points!”
“OH MY! AHHH! I had no idea, oh god!”
“YEAH! MY LITTLE BRO FINALLY GETTING F1 POINTS! WOOHOO! We must celebrate when we’re both in town!”
“AHH! Shit, wait I think people are coming in, give me a sec.
You’re on speaker dear sis, Alex, Oscar and George are here.”
“HELLO OSCAR! HI ALEX! HI GEORGE! DID SOMEONE BRING CHAMPAGNE???”
---
Y/N looks at the buzzing phone on her bedside table. Well clearly she had grabbed Logan’s phone before bed last night. She looked at the contact name
‘George - probably calling about something from the GDPA.’
She picked up.
“Before you start talking, I’m not Logan and I have not signed any NDAs related to his contract so, don’t talk to me.”
“Hi Y/N, do you know where Logan is?” George’s voice was way too cheery for however fucking early it is right now.
“Yeah he’s in his bedroom, he grabbed my phone and I grabbed his, why?” Y/N swung her legs out of the bed and stood up, still rubbing her eyes.
“Oh, can you come answer the door?”
“The door, why?” Y/N got up, and walked to her front door and opened the door to …nothing.
“George, are you pulling a prank on me? There’s nothing at the door.”
“You haven’t opened the door!”
“George… Logan and I are in Florida for Christmas. I’m guessing you’re in London.”
“Oh…yes. Bugger. I came to congratulate him on his contract renewal and so now I’ve got food and flowers and stuff and he’s not here!”
“If you go round the block to 20 XXX Close, there’s a single mom there, who will appreciate some Christmas cheer Georgie.”
“Oh, thank you. I’ll send it over.”
“Why were you congratulating Logan, George? I didn’t think you cared. Only Alex and Oscar have reached out so far.”
“I..I remember what you said at the soccer match, about Logan feeling ostracised by all of us. So I’ve been trying to make him feel welcomed… not just because you said that, and I like you, but also because I kinda realised we’d all be failing him as a grid, so i thought if I started it, maybe others would catch on. It didn’t work, but I think he feels more included.”
“That’s very nice of you Georgie. I’ll pass on your congrats. Now it’s like 7am here, and I didn’t need to be awake today, so i will be heading back to bed. Night Georgie boy.”
#f1 fic#miloformula123fan#f1 x reader#logan sargeant x reader#logan sargeant#f1 fanfic#logan sargeant x you#george russell x reader#george russell#george russell x you
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oh.
Ok.
Hi guys.
My friend and I were on call, and we were rewatching Alien Stage together.
Normal stuff, right?
But then she points out something. Something that I did NOT notice before. Like, at all.
Tw for mentions of SA and abuse
ok. There’s one scene— the scene in Cure, where Till finds out Mizi is missing. If you don’t pay attention, you’ll miss it.
In this part, Till’s already being treated horribly— which, isn’t it normal in a fucked up world where Aliens only see humans as pets, and make them compete for their lives in a singing competition?
In the part after this, His head literally gets shoved down— that’s already a lot of abuse. And, like I mentioned earlier, the aliens only see humans as pets, so isn’t this “normal”?
There’s a frame for maybe two seconds, but you could easily miss it if you blink.
It disgusts me— yeah, the reason this is happening is because he fought back, but the way they’re manhandling him? It’s horrible. And something tells me this isn’t even the first time, depending on how his whole trait is being rebellious? Yeah, he’s definitely gone through this before. and that’s horrible.
This part kinda makes me cry. The alien— for one, has partially no clothes on, besides its jacket. Till looks famished, he looks so tired, it’s so upsetting. Using these two things, we can assume they’ve done something to Till. And based on the hallucination of Mizi, it’s not impossible that he might’ve been drugged. (Less likely, but still.)
This part is me speaking from experience—
The way the Alien pets Till’s hair, as if to “comfort” him, is something a lot of Sexual assaulters do to their victims.
Here’s a reminder; a sexual assaulter can be ANYONE. Friend, family, “trusted” adult, anyone. And they will make the victim feel like it’s their fault. After they’ve done those terrible things to their victims, they won’t always leave them alone. They might treat the victim like a partner would after sexual intercourse— kindly, comfortingly, doing actions that would soothe their partner. They’ll make the victim think that it’s okay, and it wasn’t a big deal.
This is what’s happening to Till. There’s a possibility that he thinks it’s fine, despite being so tired and hurt, because it’s higher ups, it’s his master, or something else. This isn’t quite confirmed but, in my own experience, SA victims can become hostile, and will run or fight if someone tries to touch them. And till? Well, he’s hostile, and he runs away a lot. Right?
And god knows if the others have gone through this too. My goodness.
When Ivan goes to free Till, he’s passed out. They left him there.
That’s what happens with sa victims sometimes.
The assaulter treats the victim so nicely, and then leaves. Because they always leave, eventually. They leave the victim alone, feeling disgusted by themself
I love the way vivinos handled this. Not straight out saying, “oh Till got SA’d”, or something. They showed it, but in a way that not only is it not being sexualized, but it’s also painting a picture of the fact that sexual assault is anything, and it can happen to anyone. It’s a common shit idea misconception for a group of people that “females are the only ones who can get assaulted!” When that’s obviously not the case. Is Till a female? No. Did he go through that? Yes.
Tl;dr — Vivinos is awesome when it comes to handling topics that are big and relevant. And Till deserves a better life
Also, I didn’t give a good explanation, so please go and read other ones that are better.
And if you’re an SA victim, just know; you are not alone.
#alien stage#alnst till#alien stage till#alnst#alnst ivan#alnst mizi#alien stage mizi#alien stage ivan
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cardan/nicasia: why they’ll never happen again analysis/speculation
a while back i saw someone (or rather, a thread of ppl saying that they hope cardan and nicasia don’t get it on in the next book which is supposed to be nicasias book (supposedly) and i even saw someone say they WISH THEY DO ?!
so here’s your fun reminder of what nicasia put cardan through!
I’ve gathered together all the shit nicasia did to cardan: being the first girl he loved then breaking his heart w his friend, allowing cardan to catch them ON HIS BEDROOM FLOOR. (not entirely her fault but she totally had shits and giggles abt it when cardan confronted her) then when Locke screwed her over, she got CARDAN and his power as prince, to harass the girl(s) locke chose over her, one of which cardan liked, then later on was trying to manipulate him to marry her (which i think is when cardan realized they weren’t rly even friends anymore), THEN kidnapping and torturing the girl she knew cardan loved, AND befriending his abusive neglectful mother!
like damn. how u even fumble that bad, not just romantically but as a friend.
also I’d like to add her consistent entitlement, not just the whole “i bully girls bc I’m a princess and i can!” but the “cardan take me back even after i emotionally ruined you multiple times!” 😐
poor cardan
anyway, I’ve read lots of holly black books, and she is VERY mindful w abusive sort of relationships. and cheating relationships. she writes about them a LOT and each time they are pretty irredeemable.
note(the only exceptions):Taryn and hazel (darkest part of the forest) who sorta cheated on accident/ it wasn’t their fault-> but didn’t end well
add on note sorry: “but nicasia cheated on cardan on accident bc Locke was a gancanagh!” false! nicasia admitted that what her and Locke were doing was prolonged, the scene that cardan finds them is not their first time screwing around. nicasia KNOWINGLY cheated on cardan. then she was like “ok but i still care abt u! take me back” ?
now you can say that it could sorta be classified as an accident due to lockes natures (which are actually really disturbing if u think abt it) and that’s true, i never blamed nicasia for that relationship, but i do blame her for all the utter dogshit she not only put cardan thru, but Jude.
and this is cardan we are talking about. he who killed half an army for Jude when madoc tried taking his daughter back (sounds funny out of context).
we must remember that cardan does not want Jude hurt and humiliated and that’s exactly what nicasia went and did to Jude. through all the books bro. nicasia literally kidnapped and tortured Jude in the undersea so there’s 0 chance of cardan touching nicasia unless maybe to turn her into a tree again (but he can always just do that at a distance 😛)
anyway back to the cheating:
which is why i know that holly would never pull any sort of bull w cardan and nicasia, and you may be thinking (well that’s bullshit what do u know?) 3 separate books w cheating tropes, and 5+ diff relationships that involve cheating w no redemption. LOL
anyway black and i certainly agree on that front, and the way she uses the trope so consistently, and makes it so the cheaters are never endgame, or have a horrible death (Locke AND his mom, also Eva Duarte 😭the dude Ben dated from dpotf, and Kaye and that guy Janet was dating, Val and Tom and dave and lolli (modern faerie tales)) is pretty telling!
holly is great at writing healthy relationships, and she knows that tcp is her biggest hit w the media, so she won’t go and fuck that, not just bc she would never and it’s out of her writing style and character and literally moral compass when it comes to writing relationships, but also bc her publishers/editors would NEVER let that slide.
but i can’t wait for her book! i love knowing that nicasia will never have a chance w cardan again, it’s no less than what she deserves 😋
anyway sorry for ranting! I just feel so strongly abt this topic, cardan would never cheat on Jude, since he’s been cheated on before, and it was heart wrenching, and bc of his upbringing, he would never. if you haven’t, go thru my masterlist in my pinned and find the cardan /nicasia thing where i explain why he wouldn’t cheat far better there!
But feel free to add on, i probably missed a few things so lmk!! 🫶
#tfota#the cruel prince#cardan greenbriar#nicasia tfota#nicasia#princess of the undersea#tcp#prince cardan#high king cardan#jude cardan#jurdan#jude duarte#the folk of the air#the queen of nothing#the wicked king#fota#locke tcp#princess nicasia#holly black#jude x cardan#cardan#Jude#taryn duarte#the darkest part of the forest#tcp analysis
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What Does The Next Chapter Of Your Life Look Like? — [♡] ;
☆ ミ book a personal reading with me ☆彡
Pile One ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。
Cards: The Hierophant, Page of Swords, Five of Cups, Page of Cups, Nine of Wands, King of Pentacles, Two of Wands, Four of Pentacles, Queen of Wands, Strength
As soon as I started the reading I started hearing “New Rules” by Dua Lipa in my head. Specifically the chorus where she’s like “one: don’t let him in you’ll have to kick him out again, two: don’t be his friend” and some other stuff before she’s like “you ain’t getting over him” it seems like the next chapter of you life is you putting you first and moving on from a past person. There’s not a lot of this person’s energy or really any at all. I can’t pick up on what exactly happened or why you’re moving on and I think it’s because this person has nothing to do with this next chapter of you life. You’re leaving this person and their energy in the past and not allowing them to be apart of your future and that truly seems to be the best decision you could make for yourself right now.
Some of you may have moved for this person? Maybe the two of you moved to a new place together or this was long distance and you moved to be with them? Maybe for some they moved for work so you relocated with them? Uprooted your life for this person to create a new one together in this new place and it just didn’t work out how you expected. It seems important to let you know that everything happens for a reason. You’re here in this new place for a reason so make the most of it, find that reason. Don’t let this person cou time to hold you back or take this new experience away from you. A lot of you seem to be entering this single era where your main and really only focus is you. You’re doing what you want and living the life you dream of in this next chapter. Living however you like with no fear of other’s opinion or judgment. Your just worried about your own happiness and it will be such a freeing and joyful experience for you. I think you’re about to find this new love for yourself. Even if you’re someone that’s confident and has a good sense of self, you’re about to connect with yourself in a way that you never have before. There’s much more depth here.
Some of you may hear from friends or mutual people that this person wants you back. Maybe they’ll try to reach out but won’t be able to get in contact with you so they’ll have mutual friends try to talk to you on their behalf. It feels very icky to me but not only from this person’s part but also these “friends” something about the energy here doesn’t sit right with me. Make sure to be careful trusting any and everybody and don’t keep people around that don’t want to respect your boundaries. Don’t let this person back into your life and don’t let anyone try to manipulate you back into a relationship with this person. I heard “not deserving of your energy and not worth your time”
This next chapter is about you and your love for yourself. It’s about self respect and kindness towards yourself. It’s setting boundaries and protecting your energy. Drinking more water and getting into a good routine/skin care routine seems significant as well as mint or lemon in your water? And chewing gum? Maybe that resonates for someone. Don’t be afraid to try new things or take classes on something you’ve always wanted to try. Pilates and cooking classes are coming in. Some of you may be wanting to start social media and that would be a good thing to do during this time if it’s something you’ve been thinking about. However if you’ve been wanting to start social media, specifically TikTok/YouTube or both please keep in mind that there are people or maybe like a management company that will want you to sign contracts or manipulate and take advantage of you so be mindful of that. You could blow up around the holidays if you start now and could get offers that you need to be wary of. That’s only if you have the desire to get on social media or have already started trying to build your social media so only take that message if it resonates.
I’ll end this reading by reminding you to be kind and gentle with yourself always 💓 take time to appreciate and truly live in this next chapter of your life because it’s a beautiful one, Pile 1. There’s so many exciting things happening for you.
Pile Two ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。
Cards: The World, Ten of Cups, The Magician, The Fool, Queen of Wands, Three of Pentacles, Queen of Cups, Strength, Death
Ahhh Pile Two I’m so excited for you!!! So it seems like you’re about to or just have achieved some huge milestone in your education/career. Maybe you’ve just finished school or an internship and now you’re applying to or about to start your dream job/just started your dream job. As far as this job or career goes, it seems you’ll fit in really well and come across and knowledgeable and well experienced by your peers so if that’s something you’re worried about, it isn’t something to worry about at all!
It seems like the biggest and really only concern going into this next chapter is possibly imposter syndrome or feeling like you don’t deserve this career or maybe can’t handle it. Therapy might be something you want to think about/look into. I think having an unbiased professional to tell you that you deserve this position and you’ve earned it because the work you’ve done has paid off. I’m also think routine could be important. A lot of these doubts/fears could come for you late at night so it’s important to go to sleep at a good time and get up in the morning. Keeping a good routine will ensure you’re not up at 3am to stress and overthink. You could have a large workload that can take time to get used to so make sure to take breaks and not overwhelm yourself with too much. Know that if you weren’t qualified, you wouldn’t be in this position and you’re here because you’re deserving of it.
Don’t be afraid to start conversations or get to know your co-workers. I think some of your closest connections can come from them and going out with your co-workers for lunch or after work can be a good way to decompress and ease your stress. I think these connections will also help you find mentors and also realize that you’re not alone in your initial fears and worries surrounding this job.
I think you’ll either start out or work your way up to a leadership role. This is just such a role model leader type of energy I see you in. I think you’ll get very comfortable within a few months (possibly 6-8?) after starting this new career and I think it’s largely in part due to your co-workers and just the overall work environment/vibe. It’s very inviting and leaves a lot of room for mistake and growth. You’ll feel very supported in this new position.
Overall, Pile Two, I think it’s important for you to not put too much pressure on yourself and go into this new experience knowing you’re so loved and supported in this new endeavor. I heard “everything works out for you” 🥺 make sure to give yourself the credit you deserve! Celebrate yourself and all your accomplishments! You’ve come very far, Pile Two, please don’t forget that. You’re deserving of everything good and happy and positive!
Pile Three ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。
Cards: Five of Cups, King of Swords, King of Cups, Queen of Pentacles, Ten of Cups, The Hermit, Death, Five of Swords, Four of Pentacles, Queen of Cups, Five of Swords, Six of Pentacles, Ten of Wands, Ten of Swords
Okay, Pile Three. So we have a lot to get into here and I want to try to go into as much detail as I can with a general reading. It seems like you’re in a serious long term relationship that might be coming to an end or simply a rough patch. This is where I find it difficult to go in as depth with it being a general reading because I can’t say whether or not your relationship will survive this period because for some it will and others it won’t. I’m curious to see how many of you felt drawn to piles one and three because I feel like there’s going to be some overlap here. I thought I’d make it through this reading without a Taylor Swift song/reference but “You’re Losing Me” by Taylor Swift is coming through SO heavily in this reading and also fits this situation perfectly.
I’m not sure if one of you want marriage/kids while the other doesn’t is part of the problem or maybe it’s a lack of communication, trust, connection, etc. or the two of you just simply growing apart. There’s a strong desire for you to pull through and come out it this rough patch but maybe you’re person doesn’t see any issue at all in your relationship or maybe they just don’t care to fix it. It’s this very frustrating energy of you just hoping, wishing and waiting for this person to see things the way you do and start putting in the effort and desire you need from them.
There’s just a lot of imbalance and miscommunication or maybe no communication at all in this connection and the resentment and anger towards each other is just growing. I heard “at what point do you let go” there’s this feeling of defeat and sorrow. How much longer do you have to fight for a relationship that may not make it anyway? It’s a difficult situation and I know it’s frustrating but the answer to your question is really in your hands. I can’t give you a solid “yes” or “no” or tell you directly whether to stay or go because it seems to be a decision that you need to make for yourself.
Whether you stay or go, I think it’s incredibly important for you to de-center this person and your relationship with them and center yourself. Prioritize yourself and your wants/needs and see how that changes your perspective. Finding yourself and connecting with yourself on a deeper level will help you find the answer to your questions. When you come to a place where you really know yourself and your wants/needs and have enough respect for yourself to only accept the absolute best for yourself, you’ll know whether it’s best to stay or go. Put you first and see where that leads you. Know that you’re deserving of the love you desire and don’t accept anything less. You’re worthy of love, kindness, and care so don’t stay around anyone that can’t offer you those things. I heard “put yourself first and happiness will follow”
Pile Three, I’m very sorry if this message was frustrating or didn’t give you as direct of an answer as you were hoping for but I do hope it provided you with some peace and clarification. Please be kind and gentle with yourself and come to a decision only when you’re ready. Prioritize yourself and your wants/needs and know you’re deserving of nothing less than the absolute best.
#free tarot readings#tarotblr#free readings#tarot cards#tarot reader#tarot related#pac reading#tarot requests#collective reading#spirituality#tarot love reading#love tarot#pick a pile#pick a picture#pick a card#tarot#future reading#future spouse tarot#relationship tarot#relationship reading
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Things I’ve learned about Danny Phantom after finally watching it as a person who avoided watching it for months and read fanfiction instead. 👍🏻✨
Spoiler warning, just in case!
They call themselves the Phandom. (Super cute, I love it, 10/10)
Everything, and I mean Absolutely Everything I’ve learned, is a fucking Lie. (Not fun. I have to rewrite my entire understanding. I feel betrayed. Offended. Gobsmacked. My flabbers are mf gasted. -5/10)
The show is actually really funny. (I enjoyed my experience. 9/10)
Fuck Phantom Planet. (What the fuck was that shit? Um, rewind, redo, no thx, give me back the ghostie boy please. I genuinely didn’t even finish the episode, I got to where he un-died and had to turn it off. I refuse to watch it now. 0/10)
The Phandom was right to steal canon and make it our bitch. (Trans Danny? More Dani/Ellie screen time? Actual plot and lore for the show? Actual in-depth thought to ghosts and their culture? Um, yes please. 1000/10)
Frostbite actually is a doctor. (I don’t know why, but I thought it was another thing the Phandom made up. Love to see it, 10/10)
Wes Weston deserves his own episode. (What do you mean he doesn’t actually exist. What do you mean I don’t get my LGBTQ+ undertones. This is homophobic /j. -10/10)
How do you tell when a ghost is intangible, invisible, or both?? (The show doesn’t have a differentiator between the two, so I’m always confused if people can just see him floating through walls. 3/10)
Guys in White literally do nothing but be annoying. (Another case of the Phandom Lying to us. I love it though, they make really good antagonists. 7/10)
The Fentons are stupid and mildly aggressive, but they do love their kids. (I read a lot of vivisection, child neglect, and general Bad Parents fics so excuse me on that front. 8/10)
Danny didn’t actually beat Pariah Dark? (I love the Ghost King Danny fics, so to find out all he did was shove him into a sarcophagus was a bit of a bummer. He struggles more with Undergrowth than the actual king, like?? 6/10)
He can reach inside himself to take things out. (He ate a spoon in one ep and just reached inside himself to take it out. Pretty cool. 9/10)
Is he actually dead? (Phantom Planet makes it seem as if he just got a bit too high a dose of ectoplasm in his system and it fucked him up, how else could he have just undone the damage? But, most of the Phandom says he legit died in the portal, in which case he could not have gone in and just un-killed himself like he did in Phantom Planet. I think he died, personally. More trauma and angst for my writing. ??/10)
Clockwork appears a lot less than I thought he would. So does Frostbite. (I thought with how much they appear in the Phandom, they must have really important and constant roles, but no. They appear very rarely. Sad face. 5/10)
Vlad sucks. (Vlad fucking sucks. 0/10)
Dani/Ellie is much younger in appearance than I thought. (I looked her up for reference when I first started reading the fics, but she looked 14-15. She actually looks 6-7 years old in show. They literally call her a kid. 8/10)
Dani is what she chose to be called, not a funny joke the Phandom played on itself. (I though it was a silly little haha moment. Nope. The show just… named her that. I think Ellie is the Phandoms choice in calling her?? 8/10)
Why is Danny obsessed with Paulina even while crushing on Sam? (He is actively blushing and flirting with Sam and then they’ll turn around and he’s jumping at the chance to talk to Paulina?? Hate it. 0/10)
Danny and Dash don’t actually date. (I saw this circle around the Phandom a bit, thought it was cute if a bit weird, and then it didn’t happen? 6/10)
No obsessions, no cores, no real reason for the ghosts to be terrorizing Amity Park. (I legit thought it was real in-verse stuff, I’m so disappointed in the lack of it in the show. It could have been so good. 3/10)
Danny doesn’t actually become friends with his ghosts. (They don’t really get along, ever. They don’t talk outside of fighting, except for those who actually like him. Missed opportunity. 4/10)
His Space obsession is actually just a few mentions of him wanting to be an astronaut? (I thought he genuinely had an obsession with the stars and we’d see a lot of him stargazing or word-vomiting about his hyper fixation, but no. Sad. 4/10)
He does go stargazing (maybe?) and flies around when he’s not fighting. (We see him going off as Phantom in the episode where Jazz finds out about him. There are no battles and he looks like he’s having fun flying around. 10/10)
He was called Inviso-Bill?? (Hilarious, I love it, why did no one ever tell me this. 7/10)
He says “Going Ghost!” every time he transforms. Every fucking time. (It’s annoying, it’s ugly, I hate it. I am so glad no fics mentioned this or used it, I think I’d go insane. -1000/10)
That’s all I got for today, and probably for a while. I just wanted to write it down for fun, but I might post more like this eventually.
#danny phantom#danny fenton#phandom#dani phantom#ellie phantom#vlad plasmius#clockwork#frostbite#wes weston#just for fun#I don’t know what’s real anymore#this fandom scares me#how did y’all fabricate an entire understanding of a story#from practically nothing#and make everyone believe it was real#it’s not even AU#it’s just canon at this point#the power you possess#it scares me#dp
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Pick a bubble
welcome to my pick a pile themed “what does your pet (s) think of you” suggested by @didyouslay choose which bubble feels the most like your pet (s). pets can be anything from an ant to a donkey.
take everything as it makes sense to you
click on the tag #pac to see all my readings ! please leave feedback on any of the readings
pile one-bath
You sacrifice a lot for them. You’re always active. You do something that scares you for them. for instance, you have a gecko and you feed it crickets even though it grosses you out. You go on adventures. You might take them with you sometimes and they like that. They’d like to go out with you more. They’re saying , in a begging way, that they’ll be good. they wouldn’t hesitate to attack for you and they’re saying they get that spirit from you. you’re fiercely protective of those you love. your energy is red to them. they’d wish you’d treasure y’all’s moments together more. they might not be here much longer. you give them a lot of treats. you’re not appreciated enough by those around you. they feel like your sibling.
pile two-bubbles in neighborhood
your world has been flipped upside down. they feel bad for you. they think you hide your sadness from them, but they can comfort you if you let them. they’ve seen you go through so much. they think you deserve so much happiness. they can’t wait for you to start a family. they think you’re missing out on life. they think you’re prideful. they would protect you , but i’m hearing if they could, so maybe you don’t have a big dog but like a hamster or cat or something. they like if you sing to them. there’s a hidden sad or hurt side they see in you and it upsets them and they just want you to be okay. they feel like your mother.
pile three-singular bubble
you have a good balance of home life and away life. they think you can he harsh with them. they have to be on their best behavior around you. you are proud of who you are and that includes your pet. you want everything to appear overall “neat.” they’ll be in your life for a long time. they’ll see you change drastically and they can’t wait. they want to be apart of your many phases and families you go through. they’re proud to be your pet. they look up to you. they feel like your child. they admire you handywork. they find their bed really comfortable. you have good style. they’re supportive of your work endeavors. they honestly like their alone time.
pile four-water
they think you have a lot going for you. you have grown up a lot. you’ve had to learn how to be strong by yourself. you are independent. you are dominant. you are alpha lol. you kind of ignore your emotions because you don’t have any support from those around you. you are just flawless in their eyes. you are respectful , kind, and graceful. you are elegant and classy. you’ve learned how to speak up for yourself. you are going to take the world by storm. they feel like your best friend. they think you’ve lost some innocence recently.
#pick a pile#pac#pick a card#tarot pac#tarot#free tarot reading#free tarot readings#free tarot#pet#pets#pick a group#pick a photo#pick a picture#pick a image#pick an image
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4. wicked games, dm.
SUMMARY — Y/N Gorgon and Draco Malfoy have a long history of mutual hatred. You see, the two of them have been pulling pranks on each other since their 1st year at Hogwarts, to the dismay of their close friends and supervisors. However, after a prank left Y/N completely out of her mind, she decides that she'll pull her cruelest prank yet on Draco by pretending to be his secret admirer.
PAIRING — Draco Malfoy x reader
GENRE — series, enemies to lovers, rival, comedy (?)
WORD COUNT — 2191 words.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — thank you so much for the love !! I've never thought that this would get any attention, really 🥹
PARTS. 1 2 3 4 5 6 finale
TAGLIST — @hopefulfuturenovelauthor @charlenasaxen @johnmurphys-sass @alittlebitofinsanitea @islayedyourmom @dramatic-long-coats @louieblue2 @born2222die @nikki-89 @jamlessgucciswegsunshineot7 @slashermadness
IV. AMORE, AMORE.
My dearest Draco,
I think of you daily. It’s true. I think of you when I see green apples, books or even when I smell an expensive cologne. You probably don’t have a clue why, and trust me, neither do I.
I want to know everything about you; your favorite color, your favorite song and even your favorite season. However, i can't.
You see, i can't keep writing you these letters. I feel like i'm burdening you with my feelings, and it makes me feel horrible.
So i've decided that from now on, my feelings are mine to keep.
This is my last letter.
I'll love you always,
your secret admirer.
It was past midnight and you could see the moon shining brightly on your mirror. This night was a peaceful night, one of the most soothing you had known for a while, and yet, you couldn’t sleep. And as you couldn’t find a peaceful state of mind, you asked a question that plagued your mind to Athena who was also undoubtedly awake, "Athena," you started, "do you think I’ll ever forget draco?" , "what do you mean?" you could hear Athena shuffle in her bed, "Draco. Will I stop having feelings for him? Will I eventually forget him?" you clarified.
"I can’t tell you exactly, y/n," Athena spoke softly, "though, my mother once said to me that you never forget your first love, they live in you forever," you could almost hear her smile through her words, "even if you move on, they’ll always have a special place in your heart," she continued, "as bad as it sounds, you’ll always compare your other lovers to your first because you’ll think that no one will ever be as perfect as them."
"So, i’ll never stop loving Draco?" you asked again with a shaky voice, "you’ll stop eventually," she said, "but your heart will never stop smiling at the thought of him," Athena yawned, signaling that morpheus was finally taking her in her embrace, "sweet dreams y/n," she whispered loud enough for you to hear.
You wished Athena was wrong for once. You hoped and prayed to Merlin that you’d wake up having no feelings for Draco Malfoy. Hell, you even hoped to wake up with an amnesia so you could forget the entire existence of the blond boy, even if it meant you’d lose your most cherished memories. How dare he? How dare he make your heart feel like it’s about to explode?
Draco Malfoy was a heartless criminal that surely deserves a spot in Azkaban for he ruthlessly stole your heart and occupied your every thoughts without any permission. You wished to say that you hated every fiber of his being, but you knew that it wasn’t true.
"Tomorrow, I’ll give him one last letter," you thought, "then I’ll be done with him." You made yourself comfortable in your bed, "goodnight Athena," you finally replied.
On one side of the class, Draco was reading the latest letter he received from his admirer with, at first, a pleasant expression on his face but his face progressively got bitter as he got to the end of the letter, "What the fuck," draco whispered not so quietly as Theodore, his seat mate, heard him, "oi! What’s with the profanities," Theodore scolded teasingly, "man, shut up. I’m literally not in the mood for your bullshit," draco carped, "woah, dude, calm down! I’m just joking," Nott said in a dry tone, not really understanding the sudden outburst of his friend.
"What are you even mad about?" Theodore snatched the paper out of Draco’s hand, "what is this? A love letter?" Nott cleared his throat preparing his voice to read the letter aloud, "My dear—" But before he could start teasing his friend, the latter snatched the paper out of Nott’s hands, "what’s wrong with you Nott? I literally told you that I was in no mood to deal with your jokes," Draco snapped grabbing the attention of all the students in the classroom who were previously chattering.
On the other side of the classroom, you were watching the scene unfold. You observed their little quarrel from the beginning, and you saw how draco seemed disappointed as soon as he finished reading the letter. You should be proud for your plan turned out exactly how you wanted: Draco took the bait, and was apparently smitten by his secret admirer. But why did you feel the opposite?
'Horrible' was an understatement to describe how you felt right now. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t your brightest idea to write those letters to Draco because: The boy was losing his mind more than you wanted him to and you had realized that you actually like draco, and you would’ve preferred to stay in denial because those newly discovered feelings were not doing you any favor.
"I feel horrible Athena," you whispered as you laid your head on your desk, "well, you can’t say that I didn’t warn you," she spoke in a singsong, "shut up please! Don’t rub salt in my wound," you whined, "you mean his wound," she rectified, "look at him, he's a thousand times more affected with this joke than he should've! Geez, I wouldn’t want to be Theodore right now," she tut-ted, "the poor guy just wanted to cheer his friend up and now he’s getting insulted!"
You put your head back up to look at the two boys who were still arguing, "I wouldn’t want to be present when he’ll find out," she spoke, "find out what?" you replied tiredly. Athena frowned her brows in confusion, "that it was you who wrote the letters," she said in a hushed voice so only you could hear. Your face went instantly white, "fuck, fuck, fuck!"you put your head in your hands, "what am I going to do?" you whined, "he’s never gonna take my feelings seriously now," you mumbled. Athena looked at you sadly and rubbed your back as an attempt to console you in the midst of the chaos that was still going on.
Never in your life you would've thought that you'd be worried to death on knowing if Draco reciprocates your feelings or not. Life is such a funny thing.
"Where is Slughorn anyway?" Athena tried to change the subject. "He’s like 10 minutes late, what is he—," she stopped mid-sentence when she saw the said teacher come Into the classroom, "Oh, speak of the devil! There he is." The teacher sighed with exasperation as he saw the commotion that was happening in his class, "Alright class please calm down," he said in an a voice that lacked authority voice for the boys continued to argue. "Please calm down!" he shouted and this time, he earned the silence he wanted with a bonus of startled expressions from the students.
Slughorn smiled with satisfaction, "First and foremost, I apologize for my tardiness," he said, "and for my little outburst. "He placed the books he was holding in his arms on his desk, "Now, let’s start the lesson shall we?" Slughorn smiled, "Can anybody remind me what we talked about last week?" An eager student raised their hands to answer the professor.
Draco heard their answer, yet he didn’t listen; he was too engrossed in his thoughts. Malfoy didn’t know what to think of this situation, why were they leaving him? Why is it that all the persons that say they love him always end up leaving him? He didn’t understand, was there something wrong with him? Could he fix his flaws? Draco knows that he’s far from being perfect, but then again no one was, so why is it that nobody wants to accept him as he is?
The blond boy couldn’t pin point the emotion he was feeling right now, was it fear? Disappointment? or maybe even sorrow? Draco couldn’t describe the heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he sure can tell when he feels like utter shit.
Draco got pulled out of his thoughts by Theodore’s elbow nudging him. The blond boy looked at his friend confusedly, wondering why he called him out. Theodore pointed his chin in front of him and Draco looked away from Nott’s eyes only to meet Slughorn’s, "I’ll repeat my question. What is amortentia?" Draco couldn’t understand what the professor was talking about as he had spent most of the lesson feeling sorry for himself, "Amoretentia?" He mispronounced, "No, Draco, it’s—, " the professor got cut off.
"It’s only the most powerful love potion in the world." Granger replied with a hint of a cockiness in her voice, but only according to Draco, "it’s supposed to smell differently to each of according to what attracts us, and I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and—," Hermione stopped mid-sentence and the girl looked like she made shocking discovery.
"Shocking isn’t it, Granger?" Slughorn laughed, "How about you Malfoy, what do you smell?" Slughorn offered the potion to Draco for him to sniff. At first Draco was reticent but after a few seconds of reflexion, he took the flask from the professor, "I smell vanilla, violets, and— strawberry cake?" Draco recognized that smell. There was no doubt in his mind that it was the scent that wafted from the pink envelopes. Draco’s heart frowned again, "if only I knew who it was," he thought.
"And you, Gorgon?" Slughorn offered you the flask which you took in your hands carefully, "Books, green apples," draco’s ears perked up at your words, "and—," you met Draco’s eyes and you felt a feeling of fear wash all over you, "and that’s it." You glared at Draco hoping to keep the appearances up. You almost gave it away but he didn’t notice anyway or did he?
"Alright!" Slughorn took the potion from your hand, "Amortentia is considered to be a powerful and highly dangerous potion. Despite its power, Amortentia does create actual love. The potion is—," Slughorn explained but neither you or Draco were interested in what he was saying as you two were too busy giving a black look to each other, "Do you think he caught up?" Athena whispered to your ear, "I hope not," you answered as you broke the eye contact with Draco to look Athena but you still felt Draco’s narrowed eyes on you.
Perhaps the meteorologists weren’t the experts they claimed to be or perhaps, the weather was merely unpredictable for they didn’t warn the students of Hogwarts of the Cyclone Draco that was currently ravaging the hallway of the school looking for a person in particular.
"Sasha, there you are!" Draco’s shadow engulfed the younger boy leaving no light, "M-Malfoy," Sasha stuttered and Draco laughed, "S-Sasha," he mimicked, "you already know what I’m here to ask you," Draco gritted his teeth, "so spill the beans and don’t you dare waste my time," he menaced.
"I already told you that I can't tell you draco," the Hufflepuff cried, "I promised! I’m sorry but it’s not my place!" Draco poked his tongue in his cheek and turned away his gaze from the trembling form of the boy. "Promises are meant to be broken, aren't they?"Draco replied coldly as he got closer to the younger boy.
"Listen." Draco grabbed Sasha by the collar, "You’re going to give their name right now," Malfoy demanded once again but the boy shook his head vigorously and the blond boy sighed.
Malfoy released his grip on Sasha’s uniform collar and the latter fell on his buttock making him hiss with pain, "Sasha, Sasha," draco tut-ted, "I didn’t want to come to this," he faked a sad expression on his face, "I really appreciate you, y’know." The younger boy’s face displayed pure horror as he saw Malfoy reach for his wand, "But hey," Draco sighed, "Silly me to think you’d cooperate."
Draco pointed his wand towards Sasha, who was still on the ground, "Cru—,"The older boy started, "Okay! Okay! I’ll tell you please don’t do that," Sasha yelled, "I’m not sure Sasha," Draco shrugged, "Plus you know I’m not scared to say the cursed spells," Malfoy put up his hand again signaling that he was about to say the curse again, "Cruc—," he repeated, "Y/N!" the boy said while shielding himself from the potential curse that draco was about to cast. "Y/N, that's the name," Sasha said with a jerky breath.
Draco smiled satisfied that the boy caved in as he lowered his wand, "Of course it was her," he mumbled.
"Alright Sasha," Draco said as turned his heels to leave, "Loved talking to you, » Malfoy smiled, "See you around bro!" Draco emptied the hallway leaving a young boy that was probably going to be scarred for life.
#draco x y/n#draco x reader#draco fic#draco x you#draco fanfic#draco fanfiction#draco lucius malfoy#Draco Malfoy#slytherin#Slytherin reader#Slytherin fanfic#draco x slytherin!reader#draco malfoy au#draco malfoy ff#draco malfoy x you#Draco Malfoy x y/n#Draco Malfoy x reader#Draco Malfoy imagine#draco malfoy fic#draco malfoy fanfiction#wizarding world au
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Garden Of Lies
pairing: jang wonyoung x fem!reader
genre: angst, strangers to friends(?)
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The sky was painted in shades of gray as it was heavily raining. The clouds were dancing around each other like lovers avoiding the truth. The droplets kept falling, forming puddles on the pavement. I was sitting in a shelter, in this familiar garden.
Looking over my shoulder, my eyes fell on a girl. She was sitting alone around the corner, wearing sadness in her eyes. Her soul was as dark as the afternoon sky. I couldn’t tell if she was crying because her tears would have blended in with the rain. I’d met her a few times before; heck, I even remembered her name.
“If he missed you, he’d find a way to be by your side. And if he loves you, then why are you always so sad?” I slowly asked her, trying to break the silence that hung between us. My voice was steady and slow, but it still startled her. She looked up at me, her eyes red and puffy. She made oceans with her tears, hoping to sail far away from everyone who hurt her.
“We’ve broken up… I learned that holding on to the wrong person would only prevent me from finding the right person,” she replied, along with a soft sigh. Her voice was kind of shaky, but it was still soothing for me to hear. “I think I laughed then cried. There was both good and bad, but not good enough to make me want to stay with him,” she added with a small laugh. She wore loneliness in her smile, hiding the sadness with her laughter. But isn't she too young for love?
“That’s good. Stop making the wrong person feel special. No matter how hard you try, they’ll never be right for you, Wonyoung,” I exclaimed, looking at her a little longer. She had a smile on her face as the wind slowly blew her hair away. I couldn’t help but return her lovely smile. She looked better this time. She will learn from the moon to shine through the darkness.
“You know, Y/n… I think everything is weird in the world right now. I mean, I know your name but I don’t really know you, yet I feel like I know you deeply. Isn’t it weird?” she asked me with a confused tone. I let out a chuckle, which made her mutter a small "why." Her eyes were searching for mine as I looked anywhere but at her. Her beautiful brown eyes were too mesmerizing for me to stare at. I found myself nervous whenever we stole glances, but I did understand what she meant. “Some souls just recognize each other, even though they’re strangers to one another. I also feel the same about you,” I stated cockily as she let out a laugh. She was such a lovely girl, an angel walking on earth. Why would she let some man destroy her? She deserves so much better.
“I like it when you are here somehow. Things seem better when we’re together. And thank you for not judging me. It’s kind of embarrassing to let you know how stupid I am for a man.”
“I won’t judge you or criticize you for what you’ve done. I only wish you saw what I see when I look at you. I only wish you wished for more than what you’ve settled for,” I softly stated, turning my head away from her. I was standing here the whole time; why can’t she see me through?
The rain looked like it would stop anytime soon, and my time with her would be cut short too. There was never a right time to say goodbye. Not when she looked at me with all that misery in her eyes. But I couldn’t keep up with my own feelings; it’s better if I walked away before it was too late. I stood up and looked at her as a soft sigh left my mouth.
“I hope your flowers will bloom through the rain, Wonyoung,”
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i wanna be LSK but… //
I’m so sorry anon, but I personally find it really funny when people hear the songs where taylor is working through her feelings of being betrayed by Scott B and attribute them to karlie instead.
It’s like finding a man holding a gun standing over a dead body and saying, hang on a minute… what if the real murderer is the victim’s gf… because two of her friends liked a gossipy tweet written by a known shit-stirrer!
that is to say, we know for a fact that taylor felt deeply betrayed by scott b, seeing as he’s verifiably the actual person who sold her masters to scooter, after treating taylor like family since she was very young. it’s pretty self-evident he deserves the level of vitriol in the smallest man who ever lived (besides the other descriptive details that link him to tsmwel, mtr etc).
as for taylor and karlie suddenly never being seen together again (seemingly drifting apart a whole year before the heist even happened, remember?), well she hasn’t spoken on that, so naturally we read between the lines in the songs to find out. some people have taken the masters heist songs to be about karlie, and ran with that. but others see karlie and taylor’s retreat into privacy reflected in songs under the ‘love blackout’ theme (especially around here, you’re on a longtime kaylor blog 🙈)
love blackout = the hints taylor has put out again and again that she intentionally distanced her public image from karlie’s because it was too dangerous to carry on as openly as they had at first. 2016 election sadness themes, secret love themes, all consistent over the years. all while writing new love songs that use callbacks to the rep muse, to yail even 🥺. as if taylor’s been using all the confusion and her masterful quill of misdirection to achieve her priority of protecting karlie. not protecting karlie’s public image and clout with swifties, which she doesn’t need to maintain her success because she was always successful in her own right! no, it’s all for Karlie The Person in their secret bubble of reality. all this showmanship, you know. the great war, hello!!!! too many songs to name where the kaylor chandelier is safely out of sight, but you can still see flickers through the boarded up windows ❣️
so forgive me for having a chuckle. to any anons who sincerely🛸want to believe, I’m just throwing it out there that there are plenty of us that never found the karlie-betrayer theory convincing at all. if you take a closer look at everything, the timeline of events and all the songs since, does it really make sense? (especially when there are so many shitty men in the mix who are more obviously to blame lol)
~ if you post, thank you for facilitating this rant 9wing, I’ll get off my soapbox now xxx
yup yup
i think a lot of people are predisposed to blaming karlie and so everything becomes a sort of confirmation bias.. which partially, i would argue, was by design.. so in a sense i do not fault gaylors or others for falling into this hole. but i do sometimes feel like faulting them a tiny bit for those who never climb out of it. there’s plenty of information and clues needed to figure it out and climb out of it.
one thing i don’t like about the whole “let’s not talk about muses” discourse is while the spirit of it is supposed to be “let’s study why these songs sound gay instead of commenting taylor lyrics on these people’s instagram pages,” in practice the phrasing almost is like giving yourself permission to pass judgement on the people in taylor’s story and then never reevaluate them. people often say ~lets not talk muses that’s invasive and gross~ and conveniently refuse to adjust their perception of karlie (for example) based on what taylor is putting out there, while making convenient exceptions for any interpretation they find that works to reinforce their already negative perception of her. and then after bitching about her they’ll cover their timeline in lisa frank dolphins because apparently that’s what paradise is. i dunno. it all feels dystopian to me atp 😆
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Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of July. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!
1) Louis' Wish / Harry's Daydream | Mature | 1987words
Louis and Harry are best friends. Louis is in love with Harry. Harry is in love with Louis. Neither of them knows it. What will happen if Harry catches Louis masturbating and screaming his name? Come and find out
2) It Was Worth The Wait, I Think You Deserve A Taste | Explicit | 1945 words
Louis wants to be fucked but Harry has something else planned for him.
3) To Walk Out of My Life | Mature | 1981 words
This time it was Niall and his stupid group chats that had gotten them in this situation. Harry and Louis have had a multitude of "one last times," they always end up the same, two men panting on the bed using their bodies to convey the words they'd never say.
4) A Messy Show | Explicit | 2,094 words
“Need you now, yeah. Bathroom?” Harry reached into his pocket and shook his head. “Nah. Niall has a girl in there. And Ed’s with someone in our room. And-,” “I get the picture,” Louis said, glaring up at Harry and palming his dick. “You have room here,” Luke said, causing them to both snap their heads his way. He gestured at the people lazying around their living room. “What? It’s your space. Besides, everyone is so high if anyone notices, they won’t care. Or they’ll find it hot and watch. Like me.” Harry combed a hand down his face, and when Louis squeezed his dick, he made the decision for them both. “Sure. Lou, take off your pants.”
5) Can't Believe You | Explicit | 2096 words
Barricade has always been hot to watch. Seeing the fans grab and caress Louis as if they own him. But this barricade went a little too far. “Ripping his entire fucking shirt,” Harry mumbles angrily to himself, bringing up the messages with a certain ginger.
6) Doctor | Mature | 2378 words
Harry and Louis are best friends that like each other but are too afraid to say anything. Harry is an ER doctor and one day Louis has to go to the ER because he couldn't pull out the sex toy that he was using to get off as he thought about Harry. What happens when Harry is his doctor? Maybe it will turn out better than Louis thought.
7) Except It Wasn’t | Explicit | 5469 words
It was a normal day, except that it was their five-year bonding anniversary. It was a normal day, except that they were going to finally start trying for pups. It was a normal day, except something awful happened to Louis. It was a normal day, except it wasn’t.
8) On That Note | Explicit | 6237 words
Louis’ office job on an omega only floor would be absolutely fine, if not for the alphas he and his friends have to deal with in the building. But although they’ve never met face to face, the friendly notes sent between him and Harry in Purchasing help him get through the day.
9) Your Right Now, Your Forever, Your Last Call, Your Whatever | Mature | 6361 words
“We should kiss.” So they kiss.
10) It’s Only Sunny Cause The Planet’s Dying | Explicit | 13643 words
The man leans back in his chair and looks down at the tarot cards in front of him. “Wow, that was really impressive. How long did it take you to memorize all this bullshit?” He raises a brow and that challenging look is back on his face, but he’s not even bothering to mask it this time. It makes Louis’ blood run cold. “I beg your pardon?” The man chuckles, but there’s no humor in it. “If you take a peek in my wallet that you just stole, you’ll see there’s a detective’s badge in there. Why don’t you come on down to the police station with me and you can explain your methods to me there?”
11) The Boy In The Café | Mature | 14624 words
Where Harry serves Louis his morning tea while writing him silly jokes and dropping his Number there too.
12) This Could Either Break My Heart, Or Bring It Back To Life | Not Rated | 18349 words
Harry never really cared for love: he has two children he needs to care for, and a Country to rule. Love is just not in his cards. Enter Louis, who spins his children's lives but most importantly Harry's.
13) Blue Moon��| General Audiances |20351 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
What happens when Louis moves away from the busy city life to a small village in the middle of nowhere and meets Harry, the sweetest and most understanding Alpha? Will Harry be able to get Louis' walls down? Will he be able to adjust to the slower pace of life in the village and open up to Harry's love? As they navigate their new relationship, will they be able to overcome the obstacles from Louis’ past?
14) Not Safe For Work | Explicit | 23295 words
I want to drown myself in Harry’s scent until I smell like him. “I think I'm open to trying that too. Sounds very good.” Louis shakes his head a little to get out of the Harry’s-scent-spiral. “Huh?” “The dish your finger's pointing at. I thought that might be what you’re choosing?” “Oh. Yeah.”
15) 'Cause I Want You (For The Worse And For The Better) | Not Rated | 26375 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
When Louis gets invited along to Anne's wedding, Harry is prepared to let people think whatever they want about their relationship. That's what Louis said -- let people think whatever they want. That changes when Louis sees his ex, who turns out to be Anne's future husband's son. Now, Louis wants to prove that he's an omega that an alpha could want, and Harry wants to get through this weekend without letting his best friend figure out he's in love with him.
16) Deep Sea, Baby | Explicit | 28170 words
“Bunny, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” And just with that, Louis knew he wasn’t kidnapped or being pranked. He really was in his personal hell where the ex-love of his life still cared for him enough to make him breakfast, call him pet names and worry about him. And let’s not forget the part where his best friend apparently was no longer his friend. “I’m…” ‘You’re what??’ He thought. He couldn’t tell his mother he didn’t have any idea how he went from having a nice apartment in Hampstead to wake up in a “Didn’t Know I was Fucking Married and had a Distasteful Taste in Sheets.” episode. She was just going to worry and think he just lost his marbles. No one would believe him—to be frank, he wouldn’t believe himself either.
17) The Property Girl | Explicit | 31428 words
"YOU'RE THE PROPERTY GIRL!" Property what?!
18) Home Calls The Heart | Mature | 44091 words
A series of unfortunate events lands Louis Tomlinson in the heart of Texas. After running from his life in London and a performative marriage, he leaves a scandal in his wake. Home calls the heart, as his Nana always said. Though her words couldn't be truer when he decides to take up her offer to watch over Hyacinth ranch while she travels abroad. He figured the worst he'd have to deal with would be the meddlesome goats, some repairs and an errant spirit or two. That is, until the gorgeous Cowboy next door makes his presence known.
19) Men of Steel, Men of Power | Explicit | 58849 words
“You’ve been watching me,” Styles said. Louis swallowed around nothing. He tried for light. “You’re the newest addition, people are bound to be curious,” he said. “Sure,” said Styles, in a somewhat condescending tone. “I’m not that daft, I do notice the curiosity regarding my clothes. That’s not what you’re doing though, hm?” Styles’ gaze was intense, and Louis could feel it burn on the side of his face, but kept his eyes stubbornly on the coffee cup. “I,” he said, licked his lips. Took a deep breath, tried to look open, confident, dominant. Alpha.
20) The Habit I Can't Break | Explicit | 63140 words
While searching for a healthy alternative to fill the void that one habit left, Louis gets hooked on something and someone totally different. This new experience pushes him way out of his comfort zone, making Louis realize he’s capable of so much more than he could’ve ever imagined.
21) King Of My Heart | Explicit | 83712 words
Harry shrugged, his shoulders brushing against Louis’. “I think since I was young, I craved that feeling, though. I didn’t always hate being a prince, but over time, certain aspects of it just bothered me so much. I remember being four years old and realizing that every person in the world knew my name, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted that. I told my mum as much and she tried telling me that being a prince is not a punishment. That it was a privilege that I should be happy about it, but no one asked me if I was. But looking up at the sky, I remember that all of this will one day mean nothing, and neither will I. All the pressure will then disappear and I could just be.” Louis stayed quiet, allowing Harry the space to open up because he knew Harry wasn’t looking for advice, but just someone to confide in. What he wished he could tell him was that in the short amount of time that he’d known the prince, in Louis’ eyes, he couldn’t be insignificant if he tried. He was brighter than every star up there in the sky. He was all Louis could look at and think about.
22) Wind Beneath My Wings | Explicit | 93131 words
“You shouldn’t be here,” Harry gritted out, wild-eyed. “You should be scared of me.” Louis opened his mouth to speak, to cut him off, to disagree, but Harry was pushing. “I could hurt you.” “You won’t hurt me,” Louis said, simple and assuredly. Calm. “I’m capable of hurting you.” “But you won’t. That’s not who you are, Harry. I trust you,” Louis whispered. As an omega carer that works at a rescue and rehabilitation centre for feral alphas and omegas, Louis has experienced all sides of ferality. So Harry- a cold, near mute, non-receptive alpha- was a challenging case for everyone at Phoenix Rehab Centre. Louis wasn’t expecting to feel drawn towards an aloof Harry, or to form a slow bond with him. He certainly was not expecting for his entire life to change in unforeseen ways.
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.
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